A Hung Over Return
Summary: Lex takes the first step to help out Tristan; while Tristan finds himself once again working with Rory. Poor depressed guy, how will he handle the situation? Rating: Still going to play it safe with PG-13. There are some swear words and allusions to drinking. Author's Notes: Yet again, I am a girl trying to write about what goes on in a guy's head. So, remember the great potential for me to get a guy's thoughts all wrong. Oh and drinking is bad. Don't do it. That's a message from a former member of SADD. Tristan is a "bad boy" now and I'm just trying to use good characterization. (And failing miserably, I'm sure.) I hope you enjoy the story. A lack of flames is always appreciated. I'm sorry about the spacing issue. It looks fine double spaced in Microsoft Word. Disclaimer: Still own nothing.
This was great; in its own way. There were no real thoughts left in my head, all images of Rory and feelings of anger and sadness had been forced out by a panicked, paralyzing, fear and the one promise to myself that if I lived through this, I would never allow Lex to drive again. Never. I consider myself to be a fast driver, but compared to Lex's pace I drive like one of those elderly people who always go five to ten miles under the speed limit. I swear Lex will never drive with me in the same car again or, if I can help it, in the same state.
With my right hand gripping the unusually nice rental car's armrest, I unclenched my teeth enough to loudly question Lex as to where we were going. Teeth re-clenched, I flinched as the sports car's tires squealed and we came to a sudden stop in a dark crowded parking lot. I need a cigarette.
Lex turned down the radio so it would be possible for him to actually be heard. "So tomorrow you go back to school. Tonight, we party. Get the last of the delinquency out of your system, drink, and eventually you tell me what specifically is bothering you." Lex got out of the car without looking back and began heading for a club that I didn't even know existed after living in Hartford for all of the 17 years of my life. The things Lex Luther knew.
"Sounds like a plan." I followed my long time friend out of the car and towards the loud club; ready to confess everything about my secret obsession to the one person besides Rory who might actually be able to help me.
~
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. I was going back to Chilton and I was hung over. Suckiness compounded. Well, at least I think I managed to surprise Lex, as much as it is possible to ever surprise a Luther, with how much I could put away. I never used to drink. That was yet another recent development; all a part of my great downfall. I'm just glad I didn't cry or do something else embarrassing of the sort when I finally told Lex that all of this stupid stuff I'd been doing was all because of a girl and my pathetic inability to get her out of my head. Lex hadn't actually seemed that disappointed in me or at the fact that a girl had somehow managed to take total control over me. He promised to help me get back to my normal happy, energetic, non-delinquent, cocky self and to even help me win Rory over. Good luck to him, I'd already tried everything I could think of. "How tough could she be?" He had said. I laughed. Very hard. There was lots of the drunk teenager, me, laughing. Eventually I managed to get out that he didn't know Rory, through my side splitting laughing pain. Eventually my laughter did subside and Lex began talking about challenges, Smallville, and some guy named Clark. Then my memory of last night starts to get a bit.well.really fuzzy. I know at some point I said "Lana means wool in Spanish." Don't ask me, I have no idea why I would say that. Suffice to say, it was soon after that that Lex drove me home. A sobering experience. The pounding in my head, my puffy red eyes, and the feeling that at any second I might throw up all over my blazer told me I was back at Chilton and still hung over. Shoot, I don't want to be here. I parked my car crooked, but somehow, still in between the yellow lines. (What more could be expected from a hung over teen returning from suspension? Actual effort? Perfection? I think not.) I did the deep breathing thing and "I will not throw up" was chanted through my head more than just a couple of times. I'd say it was about one hundred times. Feeling pretty certain that my stomach wouldn't do a dreaded flip-flop thing for at least another 30 seconds, I risked exiting my car. The Chilton halls were empty. Class had started a long, long, long, LONG time ago. I mean, it was after lunch. Don't you dare comment! You try being hung over while getting ready for school. I assure you, you wouldn't get far either. Great idea, Lex. "Get the last of the delinquency out of your system," he said. It worked. I will not drink again before the end of time, but sometime between now and the end of time, I would most certainly have to kick Lex at least once for this less than fun experience. I went to the rest of my classes and some how managed not to throw up or enter into a comatose state. Really, I'm rather proud of myself. I even hung out with Duncan and Bowman in the halls. Even through my foggy vision and mottled head, I could tell they're dumb. I need new friends. Then I saw her, talking to Henry. I watched as she went on to talk with Paris, Louise, and Madeline. At least they're getting along, as much as Paris will ever allow anyone to get along with her. Maybe Rory wouldn't hold her you-caused-me-to-lose-the-few-friends-I-had-at- Chilton grudge from the end of last year. Maybe I could actually find out; but that might involve talking with the girl. Risky. I'd rather chew through my own arm right now; less painful, I'm sure. I did the nonchalant thing and continued talking with Idiots 1 and 2. (Take your pick as to which one is which. I personally think they're tied. If only there was some kind of test for these things. Duncan and Bowman could be record holders.) And I swear Rory looked at me. However, I must never discount the possibility that some part of me was being hopeful. (I know, only to be disappointed and suffer later) Stupid hope, always stringing me along making things worse for me in the end. After school, I found reason to be proud of myself again; as I went to meet with all the teachers whose classes I had missed that morning. I didn't miss anything too important, considering I'd already missed loads of class time due to the whole being suspended thing. Except, I did manage to miss something in Shakespeare. We're doing this big group project. It's 50% of our final grades. (Definite ouch potential) Professor Anderson forgot to include me when she was making up the group lists. I'm trying to control my more than slight indignation at that fact. But, at least now I get to pick whatever group I want. Trust me, it was a tough decision. I deeply considered the fact that Summer is in the first group, Beth and Jessica are in Group two, Kate is in three, and a triad of Claire, Cathy, and Mary are in Group four. All are a part of my extensive line of ex-girlfriends. All are people I don't want to see and don't want to be seen by. I think the feeling is mutual. So, that left me with one group. Amazingly, it contains no ex-girlfriends, but it does contain Paris, who may very well hold some homicidal tendencies towards me. (But hey, no biggie, Paris holds homicidal tendencies towards anything that is capable of movement) And there is no way I could forget; the lovely Rory Gilmore is also a part of Group 5. This fact is causing an invisible tare to form down my middle. I really want to see her and speak/bicker with her again, but part of me thinks I'm not ready for such a stressing, fun, and strenuous activity yet. I'll talk to Lex about this huge possibly world ending crisis tonight. His opinions on such issues are typically very useful. But how to ask him and remain a confident burly man? This could qualify as a crisis all on its own. Deep in thought with a backpack filled with homework, I trekked out of the more or less now empty school.
~
Hard to believe, but I am yet again proud of myself, that makes like 3 times today. I managed to not think about talking to Lex, the inevitable time I'm going to have to spend with Shakespeare group 5, or Rory, for a whole 4 hours. I couldn't think about them. Although, I would have preferred to. Schoolwork that requires all of my concentration for extended periods of time gets real old real fast. I couldn't even watch The Simpsons. Teachers have no respect for students' needs. But that was all in the past. Thoughts of how to ask Lex about a proper course of action in relation to Rory were unavoidable now, I was sitting across from Lex in a Starbucks. He was lamenting the fact that his prison/small town didn't have one. "How primitive." I managed. Lex smiled before sipping from his cardboard cup. Then he asked it. "How was your first day back?" Ah yes, the perfect lead into asking about Rory. But first, a segway involving a bone to be picked needed to be addressed. "There was a rather rough start considering I was hung over." I formed my face to clearly express that I held Lex responsible for my first-day-back-suffering. In Luther style, Lex brushed aside my silent accusation. "How was Rory?" Ohhh, he hit right at the heart of it all. Leave it to Lex to be brutal and direct. Leave it to me to be pathetic and love sick. "Fine, I suppose. I only saw her from a distance, but I swear she looked at me." "Hmmm," Lex's response clearly contained the words "you-are-a-sad-big-eyed- puppy-dog-of-a-sick-little-boy-who-needs-all-the-psychriatric-help-good- money-can-buy." If Lex could ignore blatant accusations, so could I. "Actually, I'm probably going to have to be in a group project with her for our Shakespeare class. "That's good. You'll be able to re-establish contact." Lex once again lifted his coffee cup to his mouth. It was my turn to give the loaded "hmmm," and it wasn't given just because Lex had actually used the words "re-establish" and "contact." Don't get me wrong I want to see Rory. I mean, I want to do a lot more than see her. But, there's this huge I-actually-want-her-to-like-me-this- time-around factor that needed to be dealt with. In the past, "contact" (Lex's word not mine) with Rory had majorly "screwed" (My word not Lex's) with my head. I liked that. Partially, that led to the whole falling in love with her happy, fuzzy feeling. But my screwed head also tended to piss her off. That was a problem that lead to bitter anger. Not as much fun. Wait a minute. I am Tristan DuGrey. I'm usually an intelligent guy; I've had tons of girlfriends, 7 of them in 2 of Chilton's Shakespeare classes alone. I could handle a girl. Granted, Rory was a special girl, but it's been a while since we've spoken. Who knows, I could have matured or something. I avoided saying any of this out loud. I didn't want to make a spectacle of Lex laughing at me. Soon after my realization, I finished my coffee and returned home to continue the long journey involving challenging homework and mentally preparing for, the more than somewhat dramatic experience, of seeing and speaking with Rory Gilmore.
Next Chapter: Encounter the Love Interest
Summary: Lex takes the first step to help out Tristan; while Tristan finds himself once again working with Rory. Poor depressed guy, how will he handle the situation? Rating: Still going to play it safe with PG-13. There are some swear words and allusions to drinking. Author's Notes: Yet again, I am a girl trying to write about what goes on in a guy's head. So, remember the great potential for me to get a guy's thoughts all wrong. Oh and drinking is bad. Don't do it. That's a message from a former member of SADD. Tristan is a "bad boy" now and I'm just trying to use good characterization. (And failing miserably, I'm sure.) I hope you enjoy the story. A lack of flames is always appreciated. I'm sorry about the spacing issue. It looks fine double spaced in Microsoft Word. Disclaimer: Still own nothing.
This was great; in its own way. There were no real thoughts left in my head, all images of Rory and feelings of anger and sadness had been forced out by a panicked, paralyzing, fear and the one promise to myself that if I lived through this, I would never allow Lex to drive again. Never. I consider myself to be a fast driver, but compared to Lex's pace I drive like one of those elderly people who always go five to ten miles under the speed limit. I swear Lex will never drive with me in the same car again or, if I can help it, in the same state.
With my right hand gripping the unusually nice rental car's armrest, I unclenched my teeth enough to loudly question Lex as to where we were going. Teeth re-clenched, I flinched as the sports car's tires squealed and we came to a sudden stop in a dark crowded parking lot. I need a cigarette.
Lex turned down the radio so it would be possible for him to actually be heard. "So tomorrow you go back to school. Tonight, we party. Get the last of the delinquency out of your system, drink, and eventually you tell me what specifically is bothering you." Lex got out of the car without looking back and began heading for a club that I didn't even know existed after living in Hartford for all of the 17 years of my life. The things Lex Luther knew.
"Sounds like a plan." I followed my long time friend out of the car and towards the loud club; ready to confess everything about my secret obsession to the one person besides Rory who might actually be able to help me.
~
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. I was going back to Chilton and I was hung over. Suckiness compounded. Well, at least I think I managed to surprise Lex, as much as it is possible to ever surprise a Luther, with how much I could put away. I never used to drink. That was yet another recent development; all a part of my great downfall. I'm just glad I didn't cry or do something else embarrassing of the sort when I finally told Lex that all of this stupid stuff I'd been doing was all because of a girl and my pathetic inability to get her out of my head. Lex hadn't actually seemed that disappointed in me or at the fact that a girl had somehow managed to take total control over me. He promised to help me get back to my normal happy, energetic, non-delinquent, cocky self and to even help me win Rory over. Good luck to him, I'd already tried everything I could think of. "How tough could she be?" He had said. I laughed. Very hard. There was lots of the drunk teenager, me, laughing. Eventually I managed to get out that he didn't know Rory, through my side splitting laughing pain. Eventually my laughter did subside and Lex began talking about challenges, Smallville, and some guy named Clark. Then my memory of last night starts to get a bit.well.really fuzzy. I know at some point I said "Lana means wool in Spanish." Don't ask me, I have no idea why I would say that. Suffice to say, it was soon after that that Lex drove me home. A sobering experience. The pounding in my head, my puffy red eyes, and the feeling that at any second I might throw up all over my blazer told me I was back at Chilton and still hung over. Shoot, I don't want to be here. I parked my car crooked, but somehow, still in between the yellow lines. (What more could be expected from a hung over teen returning from suspension? Actual effort? Perfection? I think not.) I did the deep breathing thing and "I will not throw up" was chanted through my head more than just a couple of times. I'd say it was about one hundred times. Feeling pretty certain that my stomach wouldn't do a dreaded flip-flop thing for at least another 30 seconds, I risked exiting my car. The Chilton halls were empty. Class had started a long, long, long, LONG time ago. I mean, it was after lunch. Don't you dare comment! You try being hung over while getting ready for school. I assure you, you wouldn't get far either. Great idea, Lex. "Get the last of the delinquency out of your system," he said. It worked. I will not drink again before the end of time, but sometime between now and the end of time, I would most certainly have to kick Lex at least once for this less than fun experience. I went to the rest of my classes and some how managed not to throw up or enter into a comatose state. Really, I'm rather proud of myself. I even hung out with Duncan and Bowman in the halls. Even through my foggy vision and mottled head, I could tell they're dumb. I need new friends. Then I saw her, talking to Henry. I watched as she went on to talk with Paris, Louise, and Madeline. At least they're getting along, as much as Paris will ever allow anyone to get along with her. Maybe Rory wouldn't hold her you-caused-me-to-lose-the-few-friends-I-had-at- Chilton grudge from the end of last year. Maybe I could actually find out; but that might involve talking with the girl. Risky. I'd rather chew through my own arm right now; less painful, I'm sure. I did the nonchalant thing and continued talking with Idiots 1 and 2. (Take your pick as to which one is which. I personally think they're tied. If only there was some kind of test for these things. Duncan and Bowman could be record holders.) And I swear Rory looked at me. However, I must never discount the possibility that some part of me was being hopeful. (I know, only to be disappointed and suffer later) Stupid hope, always stringing me along making things worse for me in the end. After school, I found reason to be proud of myself again; as I went to meet with all the teachers whose classes I had missed that morning. I didn't miss anything too important, considering I'd already missed loads of class time due to the whole being suspended thing. Except, I did manage to miss something in Shakespeare. We're doing this big group project. It's 50% of our final grades. (Definite ouch potential) Professor Anderson forgot to include me when she was making up the group lists. I'm trying to control my more than slight indignation at that fact. But, at least now I get to pick whatever group I want. Trust me, it was a tough decision. I deeply considered the fact that Summer is in the first group, Beth and Jessica are in Group two, Kate is in three, and a triad of Claire, Cathy, and Mary are in Group four. All are a part of my extensive line of ex-girlfriends. All are people I don't want to see and don't want to be seen by. I think the feeling is mutual. So, that left me with one group. Amazingly, it contains no ex-girlfriends, but it does contain Paris, who may very well hold some homicidal tendencies towards me. (But hey, no biggie, Paris holds homicidal tendencies towards anything that is capable of movement) And there is no way I could forget; the lovely Rory Gilmore is also a part of Group 5. This fact is causing an invisible tare to form down my middle. I really want to see her and speak/bicker with her again, but part of me thinks I'm not ready for such a stressing, fun, and strenuous activity yet. I'll talk to Lex about this huge possibly world ending crisis tonight. His opinions on such issues are typically very useful. But how to ask him and remain a confident burly man? This could qualify as a crisis all on its own. Deep in thought with a backpack filled with homework, I trekked out of the more or less now empty school.
~
Hard to believe, but I am yet again proud of myself, that makes like 3 times today. I managed to not think about talking to Lex, the inevitable time I'm going to have to spend with Shakespeare group 5, or Rory, for a whole 4 hours. I couldn't think about them. Although, I would have preferred to. Schoolwork that requires all of my concentration for extended periods of time gets real old real fast. I couldn't even watch The Simpsons. Teachers have no respect for students' needs. But that was all in the past. Thoughts of how to ask Lex about a proper course of action in relation to Rory were unavoidable now, I was sitting across from Lex in a Starbucks. He was lamenting the fact that his prison/small town didn't have one. "How primitive." I managed. Lex smiled before sipping from his cardboard cup. Then he asked it. "How was your first day back?" Ah yes, the perfect lead into asking about Rory. But first, a segway involving a bone to be picked needed to be addressed. "There was a rather rough start considering I was hung over." I formed my face to clearly express that I held Lex responsible for my first-day-back-suffering. In Luther style, Lex brushed aside my silent accusation. "How was Rory?" Ohhh, he hit right at the heart of it all. Leave it to Lex to be brutal and direct. Leave it to me to be pathetic and love sick. "Fine, I suppose. I only saw her from a distance, but I swear she looked at me." "Hmmm," Lex's response clearly contained the words "you-are-a-sad-big-eyed- puppy-dog-of-a-sick-little-boy-who-needs-all-the-psychriatric-help-good- money-can-buy." If Lex could ignore blatant accusations, so could I. "Actually, I'm probably going to have to be in a group project with her for our Shakespeare class. "That's good. You'll be able to re-establish contact." Lex once again lifted his coffee cup to his mouth. It was my turn to give the loaded "hmmm," and it wasn't given just because Lex had actually used the words "re-establish" and "contact." Don't get me wrong I want to see Rory. I mean, I want to do a lot more than see her. But, there's this huge I-actually-want-her-to-like-me-this- time-around factor that needed to be dealt with. In the past, "contact" (Lex's word not mine) with Rory had majorly "screwed" (My word not Lex's) with my head. I liked that. Partially, that led to the whole falling in love with her happy, fuzzy feeling. But my screwed head also tended to piss her off. That was a problem that lead to bitter anger. Not as much fun. Wait a minute. I am Tristan DuGrey. I'm usually an intelligent guy; I've had tons of girlfriends, 7 of them in 2 of Chilton's Shakespeare classes alone. I could handle a girl. Granted, Rory was a special girl, but it's been a while since we've spoken. Who knows, I could have matured or something. I avoided saying any of this out loud. I didn't want to make a spectacle of Lex laughing at me. Soon after my realization, I finished my coffee and returned home to continue the long journey involving challenging homework and mentally preparing for, the more than somewhat dramatic experience, of seeing and speaking with Rory Gilmore.
Next Chapter: Encounter the Love Interest