Author's note: This is the next chapter! Can you believe I wrote two chapters in one day? I think it's because the previous one was horrible!

Chapter 7: What's going on?

Rory sprinted to the canteen and went to the counselors' table, sitting down in her reserved seat between Jess and Paris, opposite Tristan. Her hair was gathered hurriedly in the messiest ponytail ever, and her clothes were horribly crinkled.

"Oh my god, I woke up late!"

Tristan smirked in that unbelievably hot way of his, and stated dryly, "You have the most unbelievable knack for stating the obvious."

"Here's your coffee," said Jess, handing her an extra large cup.

"Thanks, Jess, you're a life-saver."

"Welcome."

Eve's jaw dropped as she looked at Rory. "What are you wearing, girl?"

Rory looked down at her khaki shorts and camp shirt. "Uh, clothes?"

"No shit. Have you no fashion sense?"

Rory grinned. "I'd rather not have fashion sense if that means dressing the way you do."

Eve had dressed in hot pants and the camp shirt knotted loosely so it just covered her breasts.

Jess coughed, covering the laughter that threatened to come out. Paris looked did the same as he, and they acknowledged the other's urge to laugh.

"Besides, I think Rory looks fine," said Tristan, his eyes twinkling with bridled laughter.

Trent snorted. "More than fine." He noticed the look Tristan shot him, but chose to ignore it.

Linda walked over to the table and inspected them. When her eyes landed on Eve, her mouth straightened into a thin line, showing how displeased she was.

"Eve, I think you had better change into something more sensible."

Eve huffed, flipped her hair, and waltzed off to change into something else, just in time to miss the scattered laughter that signaled her leaving.

Later, on in during the first art session, Eve decided it was time to talk to this girl about staying off her man.

Eve rolled her eyes. "You know, guys think it's a total turn-off if you come on to them too strong."

Rory gritted her teeth, unable to believe at the audacity of this girl. "Right back at you, honey."

Rory glanced at the campers, and thanked heaven that they were carrying on with their work.

Eve popped the bubble she was blowing. "What's your problem?"

Rory's mouth hanged open. "What's my problem?" she shot back in disbelief. "What do you mean what's my problem? It's more like, what is your problem!"

"You wanna know my problem? Fine!" said Eve. "My problem is that you're trying to steal my guy away from me!"

Rory mouth shut in skepticism. "I have no idea who you're talking about."

Eve snickered. "Sure you don't. Yet you flirt with him when you know that he is mine."

Rory raised her eyebrow. "First off, I have no idea who you're talking about. Secondly, I don't even know how to flirt, much less have the valor to pull it off."

"God, girl, who else?" said Eve in a snide voice. "Tristan, duh!"

Rory was slack-jawed. "Tristan Dugrey?"

Eve nodded in response.

"I didn't know you guys are going out," said Rory, her tone guarding deceivingly her anguish.

"How could you not?" voiced Eve. "Everyone can tell he totally digs me." She poked a perfectly french-manicured finger at Rory. "Except for you. So just stay off my man."

Rory bit her lip and held up her hands in surrender. "I got it."

Rory sat in the playground, her arms around her knees in a gesture for warmth. It was fairly late and she couldn't sleep, so she decided to take a walk. She had had a talk with Jess earlier on, but he was off practicing some Karate kicks or something like that.

"I can't believe it," she muttered, still shocked at her discoveries earlier on in the day. "Why didn't I know about it?" She thought for a while, and then said aloud, "Well, it's not like you own him. He doesn't even know anything about what you feel. You are so dumb to even think that he would like you that way. Why do you even like someone like him? Have you…"

Someone cleared his or her throat behind her.

Rory whipped around, wide-eyed, to discover Paris standing there, with her hands on her hips and a disapproving look on her face.

"Paris! Oh my god, how long have you been standing there?"

Paris shrugged. "Long enough to hear you psychoanalyzing yourself about a trivial thing that you shouldn't even think about."

Rory groaned, and covered her face with her hand. "Go away Paris, I don't need what you mistakenly define as help."

Paris sat down opposite her. "You know what, contrary to popular belief, I actually do like you. I don't know why, it's unexplainable, but it must be part of the Gilmore charm since I like your mother too."

Rory looked up, startled. "Really?"

Paris sighed. "I knew I would pay for admitting that. Yes, I really do like you. It's just that most of the time, we seem to be on opposite ends of the spectrum."

"I know," acknowledged Rory.

They sat in comfortable silence.

"You were talking about Tristan, weren't you?" asked Paris.

Rory was stupefied to think that she was that obvious. "No I wasn't," she said. She didn't even want to think about what it'd be like to discuss her situation with someone who likes Tristan that way as well.

Paris laughed. "I wasn't born yesterday, you know."

"Neither was I," retorted Rory.

"I'm over him, you know."

Rory looked wide-eyed at Paris. "Are you on crack? What makes you think I would talk about an obnoxious, annoying, insinuating teenage boy obsessed with sex, that plays with people and their emotions, when I can talk about other people who are more nicer, happier, and just… nicer."

Paris gave a sarcastic grin. "That's exactly what I mean. You don't know what to perceive about Tristan, so you go with the stereotypical image that he flawlessly pulls off. Unfortunately for him, part of that image cracks whenever he's with you, so you get to witness the endearingly sweet side of his personality, and that throws you because it conflicts dearly with the stereotype group you have mentally placed him in."

As Rory tried to process the information so carelessly flung at her, Paris added, "He likes you."

That was when Rory snapped. "I think living with two psychologists have affected the way you think, because he does not like me. If he did like me, he wouldn't be dating that cow Eve."

Paris raised her eyebrows. "Where'd you get that from?"

"Uhm… Eve."

Paris grinned. "And you believe her?"

"What's not to believe?"

"He isn't going out with her," said Paris, her tone full of confidence that she didn't possess totally.

"Yes, he is," muttered Rory dejectedly. "Now go away and let me lick my wounds alone."

Paris stood up, grumbling all the while under her breath about stupid love-sick teenagers. Then, she grabbed Rory's hand. "I have an idea."

Rory looked at Paris confusedly. "What are you going on about?"

Paris didn't reply, however, she only dragged Rory towards a cabin on the far side of the lake. Once she reached her destination, she knocked on the door ferociously.

No one answered.

Rory breathed a sigh of relief, she didn't know what Paris thought she was doing, but she must be crazy if she was knocking on doors of cabins in the middle of the night. As she turned to walk off, the door opened.

Standing in the doorway was a very mussed-up looking Tristan dressed only in boxers. His hair stuck up in angles and his eyes were half closed. Rory was shocked into silence, just registering that he had an extremely delicious pack of abs and gorgeously muscled arms. Military school did him a world of good, refining his body to Adonis status. When he saw the two girls standing there in front of him, he rubbed his eyes and grinned.

"Paris, Rory… what a surprise. I normally only go one-on-one, but since there are two beautiful girls in front of me, I'll try a trio. After all…"

Paris scowled at him. "Zip it, Romeo."

Tristan shrugged. "Hey, it's you who came to me, not the other way around."

Rory was still shocked into silence.

Paris gave Rory a pointed glance as she asked Tristan the question that shook Rory out of her reverie. "Is it true that you're going out with Eve?"

TO BE CONTINUED…