CoffeeObsessed007 - Dude! I am so in love with your Preparatory Playboy fic. Go update.
Everyone who reviewed - Thanks, I mean it. You're reviews are appreciated heaps.
A/n - There's a guy on tv right now that looks like a monkey.
No, it's alright," he sighed, "thanks," he added.
Tristan put the phone back on the hook and stared blankly at the wall. He had the sudden urge to throw something. Wrapping his fingers around the glass - now only half full of orange juice - he lifted, preparing to hurtle it. No! That's what the old Tristan would've done. Control you're anger, man. Calm down. Breathe. Put the glass down. He did so, with a little more coaxing from his conscience. Besides, he didn't particularly feel like explaining why there was an orange stain on the wall, and millions of pieces of glass beneath it.
Maintaining a low profile. That's what he needed to do. Be inconspicuous, talk to no one; not draw attention to himself. If only I wasn't so damn good looking.Tristan glared at his reflection in the mirror. In a child like movement, he stuck his tongue out at himself.
He looked back at the phone, wishing there were someone he could call. Someone who would listen to him. They didn't even have to say anything, just listen. He had only made one phone call, and that was to the mechanics. His car would be 'good as new' in three days at the least. What a crock of shit. I only got it two months ago. It's not exactly old.
Looking at his clock he let out a frustrated groan. It was only seven. He could go to sleep, or he could go out. Both presented problems. If he went to sleep now, he wouldn't be able to sleep through all of tomorrow and would have to go out for the whole day. If he went out now, he may accidentally find himself getting acquainted with new people, or making out with new girls. But then again, he would only be out for a few hours.
Rising from the bed, Tristan grabbed his wallet and left the room.
Where was she? It was never this hard to find her. Lorelai was usually in the middle of some sort of loud...something; you couldn't miss her.
Yet at that moment, she seemed to have disappeared.
Rory sighed and continued her search for her mother. Having already checked the kitchen, the dining room and asking Michel - Rory had no idea where she could be.
Walking around aimlessly, she finally brought herself to sit down on the couch in the front lobby.
"Is there a pool around here?"
She immediately jumped at the smooth, deep voice behind her.
"Tristan."
"Has anyone ever told you that you're awfully jumpy?"
"Has anyone ever told you that you shouldn't sneak up on people? Give me some warning next time."
"Would you like an announcement over the PA system in the future?"
"And a marching band."
"Noted. Make noise."
"Lots of noise."
"In case you've got you're nose buried in another book?"
"No, incase-... what do you mean 'another' book?"
"That's the third one I've seen you reading. First when we were in the car, then the dining room and now. You've had a different book for each occasion, which really makes me wonder if you're reading them or just holding them up for the sake of seeming intellectual."
"Maybe I'm just holding them up so people would think I'm busy and leave me alone."
"Is that a hint?"
"More like a blatant request for this conversation to end."
"Are you this rude to all the guests around here?"
"Only the annoying ones."
"That can't be good for business."
"Seeing as how I don't work here, it probably doesn't matter."
There was a slight pause before Tristan shook his head and grinned at her. Rory, of course, didn't see it as she had turned back to her book mid-way through their conversation.
"So?"
She sighed in frustration and looked back up at him, "so what?"
"So, is there a pool or not?"
"There is. Go down there and out the door. The pool is outside," she pointed to her left.
"See, now this would have gone by so much faster if you would have just answered the question in the first place." He turned and left before she could say anything more.
"You're still here."
"Am I?"
"How come? Do you get paid to do odd jobs or something?"
"Do I look like I'm doing anything I should get paid for?"
"Maybe the whole girl-reading-big-thick-book adds to some sort of atmosphere your mom's trying to get going on here."
"No, I'm not sitting here for any ornamental purposes. Is it too much to ask for me to be able to just sit here and read my book?" Rory snapped out in frustration. She had only met him this morning, and had only been around him for a few minutes at a time - yet he got on her nerves more then anyone she knew.
"Now did you want something specific?"
"No, I was merely making an observation."
"Well Sherlock, with those impressive deductive skills, you're at the top of your game."
"I pride myself on it." Tristan replied, unfazed by her blatant insults. "So seriously, shouldn't you be out with your friends or something? It is summer vacation after all."
"And yet here you are, spending it at an inn."
"I asked about you."
"It's none of your business what I do with my spare time. And for that matter, how do you know I don't enjoy being here. For all you know, I might come here every day."
"Do you?"
"...that's not the point."
"What is the point?"
"Stop being so nosy, Tristan."
"Noisy and nosy, there's something to add to my extensive list of attributes."
"Don't forget 'annoying'. Put that at the top in big, bold, red letters." And 'incredibly hot' just below it, she thought, before mentally slapping herself. No, not right. He's not hot. Just...relatively good looking. Nothing to get excited about. He only nodded before continuing to speak, "so I was wondering, when do they serve dinner around here?"
Rory, surprised by the turn the conversation had taken, looked down at her watch. "In about 15 minutes," she answered.
"Would you like to accompany me?"
"Yes. I mean no. No, I can't."
"Why not? Are you going home, or are you reading your book?"
"I..." she trailed off, racking her brain for a viable excuse. Have a boyfriend? Am in training to become a nun? She really should have read that Book of Excuses her mother had bought recently. At least she would have been prepared. Just then her stomach grumbled loudly.
Tristan, noticing this as much the same predicament he had had earlier that morning, spoke up, "you may not want to, but your stomach sure does." He grinned at her, knowing he had won.
They met up in the dining hall 20 minutes later.
"Wow, they sure know how to deck this place out." Tristan remarked, taking in the beautifully covered tables in the immaculately clean hall.
"The new owner is coming by for dinner with his associates," a new voice spoke up behind them. "That's why it looks all fancy-shmancy."
The two teens turned around to face Lorelai, who was looking around, smiling proudly. Rory took in her mothers' outfit, "dressing to impress?"
"Hey, as much as I'd love it I'd never be able to have dinner with this guy in a pair of jeans," she pouted, tugging at her black dress. "It's too tight." Lorelai complained.
"Then why'd you pick it?"
"It looks good. Oh, oh! I know! Why don't you two join me? That way I'll have some interesting conversation," she said, looking hopefully from Rory to Tristan.
Rory shook her head fervently, "no way! The last time you made me join in one of your dinners I ended up singing the national anthem in front of all the guests."
"Oh you were so cute back then," she smiled fondly at the memory.
"It was three weeks ago," Rory commented dryly. She looked at Tristan, cheeks turning pink, "don't say a word."
He held up his hands in defense, "wasn't gonna."
"Oh, you just want me to suffer. This is payback for something isn't it?" Lorelai questioned, eyes narrowing. Before Rory had the chance to answer, her mothers attention was already on the waiter passing by them, "oh, put the bread in the middle otherwise it looks unbalanced..." her voice faded out as she walked away ushering the poor man back into the kitchen.
"Right. Okay. Maybe we should uh...get a table?" Tristan suggested. Rory nodded, looking down at the carpet as they walked toward a table near the back. "You should look ahead of you when you walk." Tristan commented.
"Why- oomph!" Her question was cut short as she crashed into Tristan's back.
"Because of that," he smirked down at her. She scowled up at him. A retort was instantly on her lips but he interrupted, "and because you've got such a pretty face."
Tristan's grin only got wider as Rory's cheeks blazed an interesting shade of red. She stood there momentarily, watching as he strutted away. As he reached their table, Tristan turned back toward her. She met his gaze and then instantly let it drop back to the floor. This was going to be fun.
After the customary 10-minute awkwardness period was over, they fell into easy conversation. Inane, but easy. '....yeah, so the weather is... ....I hate math, too... ....No, no pets. Although I once had a hamster...' and so on, for almost a good half an hour before Tristan made the mistake of revealing his No-Coffee diet.
"It's like an addiction. But I gave it up when I gave up smoking, you know. Figured 'curbing one bad addiction, why not another?"
There was silence, except for the sound of Rory's jaw hitting the tabletop. Finally, her stare of disbelief became too much.
"What?"
She shook her head, as if clearing it of thought before turning to his gaze once more "Sorry...I thought I heard you say that you think coffee is a 'bad' addiction." She gave a short laugh.
He raised an eyebrow, "I did. Say that, I mean."
"How-...I-...Are you-..." her eyes narrowed in concentration as her brain tried desperately to make the connection with her mouth.
"Hey, hey. Don't blow a fuse there. I'm just saying it wasn't as good an addiction for me as it is for you," he tried to explain himself.
Comments flashed through her mind, insults on the tip of her tongue; instead she just shook her head figuring it was better not to argue with a fool.
He opened his mouth to veer the conversation away from what appeared to be dangerous territory. Just then his gaze moved to a point beyond her shoulder and his mouth seemed stuck in that position. Words were fighting to come out, but his voice was god knows where.
Rory turned around to see what had grabbed his attention so intently. Her mother was entering the room, leading a group of men and a couple of women. The new owner and his associates, she figured. Turning back to Tristan she looked at him curiously.
"Is something wrong?"
He glanced back at her, then toward the group. Her mother was talking to the man at the front. The man, who just so happened to be his father. "Shit- I mean, I have to go."
"But...we haven't even-"
"I have to go," he reiterated, not bothering to look at her again. With that he got up and briskly walked toward the door leading into the gardens.
Ugh, I'm having a crap time trying not to make it all cliche-ey. >:(
I think I might be leading up to something. At least in my head I am. Dunno how it will come out in writing...
Reviews are alwaysappreciated =D