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I won't be writing any more 'Authors Notes' because I seriously cannot be bothered anymore - so, I hope you guys know by now that I really appreciate your reviews. Thank you so much for supporting this story.
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"Luke."
"What?"
"I love you."
"Are you drunk?"
"No," I supply. "She's just hyper." Luke continues to look at me, drawing a blank. "You gave her too much coffee."
He takes away her current cup. "Rory ..." She whines. I show no sympathy.
"So - did you see Dean?" she asks me.
I shake my head.
"Oh, so ... he doesn't know," she says.
I bit into my toast. "Doesn't know what?"
"You know--about the hair--"
I laugh. "No, Mom."
"Why?"
"Because I don't think the first thing I person wants to hair in the morning is, 'My Mom thinks you have floppy hair.'"
"Oh--fair."
It is an early Saturday morning, about a week and a half since my bridge encounter with Jess. Funnily enough, I haven't seen him since then, but have enjoyed the Miss Independent job description I've taken up. In that time, Mom and I have laughed at the worst movies ever made, cried at the best movies ever made, and drooled at the most drool-worthy movies ever made. All in all, I have had fun, but there is one thing missing--
"Chilli cheese fries, Luke ... please?" Mom asks.
He shakes his head. "It is 9.00 in the morning--"
"It is breakfast," interrupts Mom. Luke doesn't seem to be caving so she adds, "You know we are half the profits..."
"Two chilli cheese fries?" he asks, pointing his pen at us. We nod, we're smiling. We have our fries.
All I need now is--
"Mary."
OK, I was kind of thinking of someone else.
***
"Mary," he says again.
Maybe he's like a fly. Maybe if ignore him enough he'll go away.
"So, how've you been?"
I am wishing you away.
"Me. I'm good."
I am wishing you away.
"Ooh--coffee."
Shoo fly, don't bother me ... wait, is he eyeing my coffee?
"So, it's obvious you're just ignoring me so I'll go away, but I'm really not planning to ... What do you say? Can I buy you breakfast?"
"No," Mom butts in. "She's having breakfast with me."
"Well, Miss Gilmore, I hope you understand--"
"Tristan, is it? I hope you understand. One, my daughter is my daughter so that means if I want to spend time with her, I spend time with her. Two, don't you ever call me 'Miss' again."
Tristan looks unfazed. "Well, I'm sorry, but I didn't catch your name."
Mom and I exchange a look. "You do you realize I am Rory's namesake, don't you?" she asks.
He shrugs. Oh dear.
"Rory, I'm so glad you pick the smart ones."
I smile.
Mom begins talking again. "You really wanna have breakfast with my daughter?"
He nods.
Mom points to a table. "You sit there where I watch you. You talk to Rory. And don't you dare steal her chilli cheese fries - order your own."
Again, he nods. I suddenly feel like a puppet on strings.
"Oh, by the way," Mom says. "Great smile."
"She likes me," he says.
"She's drunk," I supply.
***
"So, how was military school?" I ask, biting into a fry.
"Different," he replies. His mind seems to be somewhere else. I press him for more details.
"Did you have to wear uniforms?"
He sort of laughs and sighs at the same time. "Rory Gilmore, you will never change."
"What?" I say. "I asked you a question."
He sighs again. "Yes - we had to wear uniforms."
"Different from the one's at Chilton?" I ask him.
"I didn't have to wear a skirt if that's what you mean," he tells me.
"Good."
Luke walks up to us. He's holding a coffee pot and he's smiling. I have a feeling Mom sent him up here. "Coffee?" he asks.
I immediately give him my cup and he pours coffee into it, while glancing at Tristan. "Coffee?" he asks again.
He shakes his head. "I don't like coffee, sorry."
Luke looks like he could've kissed him. "Can I get you anything else?"
"A coke?" Tristan shrugs, digging in his wallet.
The smile from Luke's face vanishes. I hear him mutter something that sounds oddly like, "Caffeine freaks ..."
Some time later, Luke returns with Tristan's coffee. There's something in there that looks suspiciously like spit. We both agree not to touch it until one of us volunteers to throw it away.
"So," Tristan begins. "Boyfriend?"
"Yes."
"Dean?"
"Gone. Jess."
"Boyfriend?"
"Yes."
"So--is Jess the new Dean?" he asks.
"No." I cry with laughter. "That's almost like saying green is the new pink."
"What?"
"Never mind."
"So, Jess is different?"
"Then Dean? Oh yeah."
"Have you slept with him yet?"
I cough and splutter, my coffee landing on the table. "Excuse me? And what?"
"Rory, you're Mary. Mary, you're Rory. You're the 'ew! sex before marriage type'."
I roll my eyes. "Ooh, you are far off, mister."
"Am I?"
"Yes!"
"But you are a virgin."
I splutter coffee all over the table again. "Tristan," I hiss, "this is not the time or the place."
"That's a 'yes'."
I stand up. "Goodbye, Tristan."
Mom looks up. She's somewhat delirious from the amount of fries she's eaten. "Where are we going?"
I link arms with her, leading her towards the door. "Home."
"Oh--yay."
"Mary."
Go away.
"Mary."
Shoo fly, don't bother me.
"Rory."
I finally turn around, shocked at being addressed like that. "What?"
"I missed you."
I allow myself a small smile. "I missed you too--Satan."
***
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