Disclaimer: Yep, I bought it this weekend for $5,000, see? *holds up piece of notebook paper* That's the rights to the Gilmore Girls. I rule you all! Muahahaha! But I don't own the chapter title, my awesome beta Sami Smart-sky came up with that one. Isn't it awesome!
A/N: Again, praises sent to Sami for being an awesome beta! Thanks to my reviewers! I so adore you all.
Nyla: *giggles* Wow, you out-rambled me. *hands over the trophy* Fair's fair, you're simply the best. Okay, and now, I know! Isn't that funny. I'm the writer and even I mock it. Seriously, I was such a bad writer, I can't even look at my earlier work. If you've never read anything else of mine, don't let this story scare you, it's definitely not my best. Back In My Life and Always Trust Your Instincts are better, but of course you won't like any of my stories if you're not a Lit, because...well, I know nothing else, including how to spell my name, because quite frankly it's just not as important. I'm assuming you're a new reader of this story, though, so welcome! Don't let me scare you. I'm just hyper. ;)
smile(1): Oh, okay. I was just wondering. Yeah, I did that on purpose, I was trying to make it seem a little more... not dramatic, but... I don't know, not a complete joke. Anyhoo, thank so much! Adn don't worry, the humor didn't leave for the whole story :D
****
I closed my closet door after placing the box in it. Then I looked around the room and bit my lip. Jess would be there any minute and I was going to tell him. It took a week, but I finally figured out how, and since Mom had to work and I "wasn't feeling well" there was no dinner with the grandparents again.
I sighed. I seemed to be ready.
Just then the doorbell rang, so I had no choice but to be ready. I walked into the living room, looking once more back at my room, and I opened the door.
"Hey."
I smiled. "Hey. Come in," I said, opening the door more.
"Here's the movie," he said handing it to me. "And here's the food."
"Oh, good. Burgers."
"You said it was my choice," he reminded me.
"Yes. Your choice, which was burgers."
"Thanks for the review."
"So, eat first?"
"We could eat while we watch the movie."
"Good idea. See, you should be the one at Chilton."
He looked at me strangely. "You're acting weird tonight."
"I always act weird."
"You're too nice."
"I'm always nice," I said, although my irritation was growing for no particular reason.
"I know, but you seem too nice tonight."
"Well, I can yell at you if it'll make you feel better," I offered.
He smirked. "Probably make me feel more at home."
I smiled. "Let's just eat."
**
He was right. I was acting weird. I suppose I was trying to butter him up so I could break it to him gently. But it ended up just making me seem weird all night.
When the movie was over I helped clean up from dinner --which had secretly made me sick, but I followed it with crackers and felt better-- and then we went to my room.
"Okay, sit down," I said with courage.
"More acting weird?"
"No."
He sat down. "I'm sitting down."
"Okay, good. Um, okay, you remember how... Do you... Remember that day... Hm."
He stared at me like I was an old circus clown trying to make a balloon animal out of a rope.
"Okay, you know how we... I slept with you. And you slept with me."
"It usually does go both ways." He nodded slightly.
"And it was wonderful. But um, do you remember that day that you came over last weekend when I was ignoring you?"
"Yes."
"Then you remember that I was sick?"
"Yes," he said cautiously.
I walked over to the closet and pulled out the package I had put in when I was getting ready for him to visit. I placed the package—wrapped carefully in baby-themed paper—in his hands.
"I have a present for you."
"For my baby shower?" he asked, looking at the paper.
"Just open it."
He looked at me, then back at the paper and opened it. He turned rather pale when his thoughts were confirmed by the baby scrapbook kit.
I bit my lip and teared up. I had already imagined every possible reaction and decided to be prepared for the worst; after all, Jess hadn't really seemed the fatherly type.
He kind of just sat there in shock. I told myself this had to be either severe shock or the calm before the storm. Either way I was not going to look at him.
A minute later he spoke.
"You're pregnant?"
"Yes."
"That wasn't your mom's test, that was yours."
"Yes," I answered meekly.
"And..."
"I lied to you, yes, I'm sorry. I just didn't want to tell you that way, I was nervous to tell you anyway, but I wanted to do it with a little bit of dignity. Hugging the toilet bowl, wonderful way to tell the father of your child... that he's the father of your child."
Jess just looked dazed. The shock was lasting too long, I had expected explosion already. He was behind schedule.
"Are you okay?" I finally asked.
"I'm going to be a...father?"
"According to both tests." I nodded.
He sat there, eerily still.
"Um, so..." I tried to urge him to talk.
He finally just pulled my shirt gently so I sat down next to him. Then we both sat there quietly and looked at the scrapbook kit. I wished so badly he would just tell me what was going on in his head.
I hate to say that was pretty much the end of that evening. We didn't really talk anymore. When it got late he just left, with as little words spoken as possible. He made me wish he would've blown up, at least then I would've gotten some kind of reaction. Not a good one, I'll give you that, but it would've been something.
I gave him a kiss and he was gone.
Sighing, I sat down on the couch and curled my knees up to my chest. Well, that sucked.
*
"So... it didn't go well?" Mom asked once I told her.
"Well, I don't know it went well or not. It was very strange. Like... a semblance of being peaceful, but since I knew there was more going on in his head it was actually torture. It felt like when I was waiting for my SAT scores."
"Wow, thank you for those horrible memories."
"Anytime."
"You know, actually, Chris was that way when I first told him."
"He was?"
"Yes."
"So, Jess is going to leave and I'm going to turn into you? Then he's going to come back in about 17 years and say 'Let's be a family, that sounds fun' and then find out his ex is pregnant and—"
"Well, no. I mean, not without getting his butt kicked by everyone in Stars Hollow, but I just meant, it's the initial shock thing," she cut in.
"How long did Dad do it?"
"About... um, five minutes. Okay, so it's not exactly the same, but Chris was never as to himself as Jess is, so maybe this is just Jess' way of dealing."
"Maybe," I said, still not pleased.
She patted my hand with a reassuring smile. "Don't worry about it, I'm sure he'll be more normal after he's had time to digest it."
"I hope so, because silent Jess is somehow worse than mad Jess."
*
"Okay," Paris said as she was tying up our meeting at school. "I think this has been an extremely successful first meeting. I appreciate most of the class presidents being prompt," she said pointedly at the junior class president who arrived 30 seconds late. "Before we leave is there anything that anyone would like to say?"
"Like names. Does anyone here have a name? Because Paris forgot to ask." I said, slightly annoyed.
"Actually I have something I'd like to put on the table," Francie said, half raising her hand.
"Okay, we have a couple minutes. Give us the Reader's Digest version."
"As president of the senior class, a certain problem has been brought to my attention," she said, folding her hands on the table. "For the past thirty years, the Chilton regulations have stated that skirts must be no higher than three-quarters of an inch above the knee, that's it. Any higher, the student gets written up," she explained. "I propose to put to an immediate vote an amendment to raise hemlines an additional inch and a half."
Paris looked like her head was going to explode. "Hemlines?"
"Yes." Francie nodded.
"That's the major issue the senior class wants to put on the table?"
"It's one of the major issues, yes."
Paris took only a moment before replying sarcastically, "Wow, that's a big one. Thank you, Francie, for giving us a very important major issue to mull over here. I anticipate a lot of sleepless nights over this. I'll get back to you as soon as I can."
"Oh. Okay, fine. Thanks," Francie said, trying to figure out if Paris was taking her at all seriously.
"Well, if that's it, I officially call the first meeting of the Chilton student body presidents to a close," she said, banging her gavel and hearing a few mumbled complaints.
"Hemlines. I'm working with idiots," she mumbled to me.
"Well, Paris, the point of this meeting was not to discuss hemlines or any other ridiculous issues. It was to get to know each other. Do you know any of their names?"
"Sure, you have Barbie, Theresa, Bunny and my all time favorite, Hemline Helen."
"Wrong. Do you know why you don't know their names?"
"Because they're idiots."
"No, because you didn't hand out the coffee or the donuts and you didn't talk to them, you lectured them."
"You can take the donuts if you stop telling me to get to know the group of airheads I'm working with this year."
I paused a moment, thinking about lecturing her more, but... donuts. "Yeah, the hemlines were a dumb issue," I agreed, taking the box of donuts and a cup of coffee.
"Hi. Excuse me, Paris? I just wanted to say on behalf of the entire senior class, congratulations on your win and I'm really looking forward to working very closely with you this year," Francie said.
"Thanks," Paris replied, obviously thinking of the hemline issue.
"No problem. See you later. Bye Rory. You two are going to make a great team," she said over her shoulder.
"Yep, pick up some pom poms on the way out. Jerseys get here Friday," Paris replied. Then she turned to me. "Okay, let's get out of here, I want to work on my letter demanding the librarian to resign."
"You're cruel."
"I gave you donuts," she reminded me.
"Yet so nice when you want to be," I said before taking a big bite of my first donut.
*
"Ugh," I said, walking in the diner.
"What's wrong?" Luke asked as I sat down.
"I just ate a half dozen donuts and I'm ashamed as a Gilmore to say, I'm very sick and hope to never see another donut for the rest of my life."
"You should eat healthier," he said as he started to pour me coffee.
"Ah ah!"
He stopped mid pour and stared at me.
"Is that decaf?"
"Yes."
"Proceed." I nodded and put my backpack on the ground, dumping half my cup of coffee from school in the decaf.
Just then Jess came down from the upstairs apartment and stopped in his tracks when he saw me.
"Hi," I said.
"Hi."
There was a long pause in which Luke looked between the two of us with a look of confusion on his face.
"Um... how are you?" I asked.
"Fine. You?"
"Fine."
"Good."
"Good."
"Wow, a five-year-old can't play shadow like you two. Great job," Mom said as she sat down next to me. "Now say Christy collects chrysanthemums. I'll give you five bucks if you say it five times fast."
"Is there a career in that?" Kirk asked from his seat at the counter.
"Mommy, he scares me," I said.
"Oh, me too, honey." She nodded and covered my eyes.
When I looked back over to see Jess he was already gone; apparently he snuck out. I sighed and went back to my half cold half caf.
*
As I was walking down the hall of Chilton I decided to take a restroom break before class.
"Rory, hi. How nice of you join us," Francie greeted me.
"Um, sure, anytime," I replied, confused, before going for the bathroom stall.
"Stay." She grabbed my arm. "We need to talk."
"About—"
"No, I meant I need to talk, you need to listen. Okay? Great. Now let's discuss Paris."
"I hear it's lovely this time of year," I replied sarcastically. "But I'm busy right now. I have class in about two minutes and—"
"I'm sorry, I thought I said I talk." She looked at the other girls with a look of question. "Didn't I say that?"
I sighed. "What about her?"
"She seems to have the very strange idea that she's actually in charge around here, and I thought it'd be good if I let you in on a little secret... she's not." She shook her head slightly.
"Great. You tell her that." I nodded, thinking of what an amusing show that would be. "Now if you'll excuse me—"
"No. Talking to Paris is like shopping for a bathing suit in December—frustrating, fruitless, and a complete waste of my time."
"Then don't tell her. I really don't care."
"Excuse me, I'm still talking," she informed me.
It took everything I had not to just punch her and then go to the restroom and leave. "Quickly please."
"I expect no further interruptions," she told me. "Now, you might look like a wallflower to most people, but you're obviously the Meyer Lansky in this organization."
"I am not—"
"Anyhow," she said loudly, to inform me she was still talking. "Paris is student body president—big fat deal. There are three other class presidents—the junior class president, the sophomore class president, and oh, yes, the senior class president—me."
"I know all this."
"Congratulations. Now if Paris thinks she's gonna march around dictating mandates and ignoring what I have to say, then she's in for a major bikini wax."
I grimaced. "Thanks for that visual."
"Without me, she's nothing," she went on. "Just another power mad, insecure, friendless, dateless, highlight-less loser wandering around trying to make someone care that they exist at all, which, by the way, no one does. I control the senior class. I am also the leader of the Puffs, the most exclusive society on this campus, and I have the power to make her life a living hell."
"Francie, she's-"
"I can make sure she does nothing this year but lead the student body in whatever version of the Pledge of Allegiance happens to be constitutional at the time. I have the power. Me. I can protect her or destroy her. Now here's what I want you to do. Make her play ball. She's going to support the hemline issue, and any other issue I happen to bring up this year. Otherwise I'll make her so ineffectual, she'll make Jimmy Carter look like Martin Sheen – do you get me?"
She had pushed me too far. "No, Francie. I don't get you. Do you know what I do get? Morning sickness, and I have it right now. Do not threaten someone with morning sickness, it's very dangerous. Oh, one other thing, quit calling me Meyer Lansky, for one thing my boyfriend is the troublemaker, not me, and two, it makes me think of Oscar Meyer hot dogs and bologna, and as you may have guessed, I'm not in the mood to think of food. But in the edited words of Meyer Lansky, shove your protection up your three-quarters of an inch above the knee skirt," I said before storming out of the bathroom, leaving her stunned.
*
The next day after school I went to Luke's. No Jess. Or at least so I thought. Then I noticed Jess walking by the window, not in, like he had just left.
I jumped off my stool and went out after him.
"Hey." I ran up beside him.
His jaw visibly tightened. "Hey."
I folded my arms in front of me. "I realize I'm terrifying, but you've been running away from me all week and, well, I'm the runner. Not you. So stop it."
"I have not been running," he said.
"You have so been running."
"I haven't been running," he mumbled, tucking something into his pocket and continuing to walk.
"You're Timothy Cherigat," I stated.
He sighed and stopped walking. "You're right. I have been running."
"Thank you. Now... I would ask why you're running, but I think I probably already know. So instead I'm going to ask if you're going to stop running."
He didn't reply, probably because he didn't know how.
"I haven't been chasing you because... well, it kind of makes me feel a little pathetic, but mostly because I wanted to give you time to think. I feel like I've given you time to think."
He still didn't say anything.
"And ...I'm an excellent conversationalist if you'll give talking a try."
"Aren't you scared?"
His reply took me off guard. "Of course I'm scared," I said quietly, as if admitting it. "But there's really nothing we can do about it now, as my mom pointed out. So I'm just... dealing with it. Alone with the exception of my mother," I added. "And the only reason I chased you today is because I wanted to tell you that Monday is my first doctor's appointment, and I want to know if I'm going with my mom or with you." I took a silent breath. I was asking about much more than just a doctor's appointment. I was talking about the whole pregnancy ordeal. He knew that, that's why it took him a couple seconds to reply.
"You're going with me, as long as I'm still invited," he finally said.
I broke out into a grin and gave him a hug. "You're only invited if you bring me a donut."
He smiled. "I thought you got sick on donuts."
"Oh, well, I did, but here's what I've been thinking..." He wrapped and arm around me and we walked down the street as I explained my theory about the baby just not being used to eating like a Gilmore yet and that being the reason for my sickness. The rest of that day went pretty well.
I didn't know it at the time, but the next day wouldn't go as well...
***
A/N: Sorry, the Paris/Francie/Rory thing sort of overtook me for awhile, but I hated how the show did that and I wanted to voice Rory's mood swings.. and pregnancy to the whole school. But that last part wasn't my fault. I swear. Rory did it! *points and runs*
Oh, and as for the ending... *grin* I'm cruel? Just review, then you'll see why the next day doesn't go well. I'm beginning to understand authors who write cliffhangers. It's just a cry for reviews!
PLEASE REVIEW! I'll be eternally grateful! So grateful that I'll update! *clears throat and cues music* MUAHAHAHAHAHA!
A/N: Again, praises sent to Sami for being an awesome beta! Thanks to my reviewers! I so adore you all.
Nyla: *giggles* Wow, you out-rambled me. *hands over the trophy* Fair's fair, you're simply the best. Okay, and now, I know! Isn't that funny. I'm the writer and even I mock it. Seriously, I was such a bad writer, I can't even look at my earlier work. If you've never read anything else of mine, don't let this story scare you, it's definitely not my best. Back In My Life and Always Trust Your Instincts are better, but of course you won't like any of my stories if you're not a Lit, because...well, I know nothing else, including how to spell my name, because quite frankly it's just not as important. I'm assuming you're a new reader of this story, though, so welcome! Don't let me scare you. I'm just hyper. ;)
smile(1): Oh, okay. I was just wondering. Yeah, I did that on purpose, I was trying to make it seem a little more... not dramatic, but... I don't know, not a complete joke. Anyhoo, thank so much! Adn don't worry, the humor didn't leave for the whole story :D
****
I closed my closet door after placing the box in it. Then I looked around the room and bit my lip. Jess would be there any minute and I was going to tell him. It took a week, but I finally figured out how, and since Mom had to work and I "wasn't feeling well" there was no dinner with the grandparents again.
I sighed. I seemed to be ready.
Just then the doorbell rang, so I had no choice but to be ready. I walked into the living room, looking once more back at my room, and I opened the door.
"Hey."
I smiled. "Hey. Come in," I said, opening the door more.
"Here's the movie," he said handing it to me. "And here's the food."
"Oh, good. Burgers."
"You said it was my choice," he reminded me.
"Yes. Your choice, which was burgers."
"Thanks for the review."
"So, eat first?"
"We could eat while we watch the movie."
"Good idea. See, you should be the one at Chilton."
He looked at me strangely. "You're acting weird tonight."
"I always act weird."
"You're too nice."
"I'm always nice," I said, although my irritation was growing for no particular reason.
"I know, but you seem too nice tonight."
"Well, I can yell at you if it'll make you feel better," I offered.
He smirked. "Probably make me feel more at home."
I smiled. "Let's just eat."
**
He was right. I was acting weird. I suppose I was trying to butter him up so I could break it to him gently. But it ended up just making me seem weird all night.
When the movie was over I helped clean up from dinner --which had secretly made me sick, but I followed it with crackers and felt better-- and then we went to my room.
"Okay, sit down," I said with courage.
"More acting weird?"
"No."
He sat down. "I'm sitting down."
"Okay, good. Um, okay, you remember how... Do you... Remember that day... Hm."
He stared at me like I was an old circus clown trying to make a balloon animal out of a rope.
"Okay, you know how we... I slept with you. And you slept with me."
"It usually does go both ways." He nodded slightly.
"And it was wonderful. But um, do you remember that day that you came over last weekend when I was ignoring you?"
"Yes."
"Then you remember that I was sick?"
"Yes," he said cautiously.
I walked over to the closet and pulled out the package I had put in when I was getting ready for him to visit. I placed the package—wrapped carefully in baby-themed paper—in his hands.
"I have a present for you."
"For my baby shower?" he asked, looking at the paper.
"Just open it."
He looked at me, then back at the paper and opened it. He turned rather pale when his thoughts were confirmed by the baby scrapbook kit.
I bit my lip and teared up. I had already imagined every possible reaction and decided to be prepared for the worst; after all, Jess hadn't really seemed the fatherly type.
He kind of just sat there in shock. I told myself this had to be either severe shock or the calm before the storm. Either way I was not going to look at him.
A minute later he spoke.
"You're pregnant?"
"Yes."
"That wasn't your mom's test, that was yours."
"Yes," I answered meekly.
"And..."
"I lied to you, yes, I'm sorry. I just didn't want to tell you that way, I was nervous to tell you anyway, but I wanted to do it with a little bit of dignity. Hugging the toilet bowl, wonderful way to tell the father of your child... that he's the father of your child."
Jess just looked dazed. The shock was lasting too long, I had expected explosion already. He was behind schedule.
"Are you okay?" I finally asked.
"I'm going to be a...father?"
"According to both tests." I nodded.
He sat there, eerily still.
"Um, so..." I tried to urge him to talk.
He finally just pulled my shirt gently so I sat down next to him. Then we both sat there quietly and looked at the scrapbook kit. I wished so badly he would just tell me what was going on in his head.
I hate to say that was pretty much the end of that evening. We didn't really talk anymore. When it got late he just left, with as little words spoken as possible. He made me wish he would've blown up, at least then I would've gotten some kind of reaction. Not a good one, I'll give you that, but it would've been something.
I gave him a kiss and he was gone.
Sighing, I sat down on the couch and curled my knees up to my chest. Well, that sucked.
*
"So... it didn't go well?" Mom asked once I told her.
"Well, I don't know it went well or not. It was very strange. Like... a semblance of being peaceful, but since I knew there was more going on in his head it was actually torture. It felt like when I was waiting for my SAT scores."
"Wow, thank you for those horrible memories."
"Anytime."
"You know, actually, Chris was that way when I first told him."
"He was?"
"Yes."
"So, Jess is going to leave and I'm going to turn into you? Then he's going to come back in about 17 years and say 'Let's be a family, that sounds fun' and then find out his ex is pregnant and—"
"Well, no. I mean, not without getting his butt kicked by everyone in Stars Hollow, but I just meant, it's the initial shock thing," she cut in.
"How long did Dad do it?"
"About... um, five minutes. Okay, so it's not exactly the same, but Chris was never as to himself as Jess is, so maybe this is just Jess' way of dealing."
"Maybe," I said, still not pleased.
She patted my hand with a reassuring smile. "Don't worry about it, I'm sure he'll be more normal after he's had time to digest it."
"I hope so, because silent Jess is somehow worse than mad Jess."
*
"Okay," Paris said as she was tying up our meeting at school. "I think this has been an extremely successful first meeting. I appreciate most of the class presidents being prompt," she said pointedly at the junior class president who arrived 30 seconds late. "Before we leave is there anything that anyone would like to say?"
"Like names. Does anyone here have a name? Because Paris forgot to ask." I said, slightly annoyed.
"Actually I have something I'd like to put on the table," Francie said, half raising her hand.
"Okay, we have a couple minutes. Give us the Reader's Digest version."
"As president of the senior class, a certain problem has been brought to my attention," she said, folding her hands on the table. "For the past thirty years, the Chilton regulations have stated that skirts must be no higher than three-quarters of an inch above the knee, that's it. Any higher, the student gets written up," she explained. "I propose to put to an immediate vote an amendment to raise hemlines an additional inch and a half."
Paris looked like her head was going to explode. "Hemlines?"
"Yes." Francie nodded.
"That's the major issue the senior class wants to put on the table?"
"It's one of the major issues, yes."
Paris took only a moment before replying sarcastically, "Wow, that's a big one. Thank you, Francie, for giving us a very important major issue to mull over here. I anticipate a lot of sleepless nights over this. I'll get back to you as soon as I can."
"Oh. Okay, fine. Thanks," Francie said, trying to figure out if Paris was taking her at all seriously.
"Well, if that's it, I officially call the first meeting of the Chilton student body presidents to a close," she said, banging her gavel and hearing a few mumbled complaints.
"Hemlines. I'm working with idiots," she mumbled to me.
"Well, Paris, the point of this meeting was not to discuss hemlines or any other ridiculous issues. It was to get to know each other. Do you know any of their names?"
"Sure, you have Barbie, Theresa, Bunny and my all time favorite, Hemline Helen."
"Wrong. Do you know why you don't know their names?"
"Because they're idiots."
"No, because you didn't hand out the coffee or the donuts and you didn't talk to them, you lectured them."
"You can take the donuts if you stop telling me to get to know the group of airheads I'm working with this year."
I paused a moment, thinking about lecturing her more, but... donuts. "Yeah, the hemlines were a dumb issue," I agreed, taking the box of donuts and a cup of coffee.
"Hi. Excuse me, Paris? I just wanted to say on behalf of the entire senior class, congratulations on your win and I'm really looking forward to working very closely with you this year," Francie said.
"Thanks," Paris replied, obviously thinking of the hemline issue.
"No problem. See you later. Bye Rory. You two are going to make a great team," she said over her shoulder.
"Yep, pick up some pom poms on the way out. Jerseys get here Friday," Paris replied. Then she turned to me. "Okay, let's get out of here, I want to work on my letter demanding the librarian to resign."
"You're cruel."
"I gave you donuts," she reminded me.
"Yet so nice when you want to be," I said before taking a big bite of my first donut.
*
"Ugh," I said, walking in the diner.
"What's wrong?" Luke asked as I sat down.
"I just ate a half dozen donuts and I'm ashamed as a Gilmore to say, I'm very sick and hope to never see another donut for the rest of my life."
"You should eat healthier," he said as he started to pour me coffee.
"Ah ah!"
He stopped mid pour and stared at me.
"Is that decaf?"
"Yes."
"Proceed." I nodded and put my backpack on the ground, dumping half my cup of coffee from school in the decaf.
Just then Jess came down from the upstairs apartment and stopped in his tracks when he saw me.
"Hi," I said.
"Hi."
There was a long pause in which Luke looked between the two of us with a look of confusion on his face.
"Um... how are you?" I asked.
"Fine. You?"
"Fine."
"Good."
"Good."
"Wow, a five-year-old can't play shadow like you two. Great job," Mom said as she sat down next to me. "Now say Christy collects chrysanthemums. I'll give you five bucks if you say it five times fast."
"Is there a career in that?" Kirk asked from his seat at the counter.
"Mommy, he scares me," I said.
"Oh, me too, honey." She nodded and covered my eyes.
When I looked back over to see Jess he was already gone; apparently he snuck out. I sighed and went back to my half cold half caf.
*
As I was walking down the hall of Chilton I decided to take a restroom break before class.
"Rory, hi. How nice of you join us," Francie greeted me.
"Um, sure, anytime," I replied, confused, before going for the bathroom stall.
"Stay." She grabbed my arm. "We need to talk."
"About—"
"No, I meant I need to talk, you need to listen. Okay? Great. Now let's discuss Paris."
"I hear it's lovely this time of year," I replied sarcastically. "But I'm busy right now. I have class in about two minutes and—"
"I'm sorry, I thought I said I talk." She looked at the other girls with a look of question. "Didn't I say that?"
I sighed. "What about her?"
"She seems to have the very strange idea that she's actually in charge around here, and I thought it'd be good if I let you in on a little secret... she's not." She shook her head slightly.
"Great. You tell her that." I nodded, thinking of what an amusing show that would be. "Now if you'll excuse me—"
"No. Talking to Paris is like shopping for a bathing suit in December—frustrating, fruitless, and a complete waste of my time."
"Then don't tell her. I really don't care."
"Excuse me, I'm still talking," she informed me.
It took everything I had not to just punch her and then go to the restroom and leave. "Quickly please."
"I expect no further interruptions," she told me. "Now, you might look like a wallflower to most people, but you're obviously the Meyer Lansky in this organization."
"I am not—"
"Anyhow," she said loudly, to inform me she was still talking. "Paris is student body president—big fat deal. There are three other class presidents—the junior class president, the sophomore class president, and oh, yes, the senior class president—me."
"I know all this."
"Congratulations. Now if Paris thinks she's gonna march around dictating mandates and ignoring what I have to say, then she's in for a major bikini wax."
I grimaced. "Thanks for that visual."
"Without me, she's nothing," she went on. "Just another power mad, insecure, friendless, dateless, highlight-less loser wandering around trying to make someone care that they exist at all, which, by the way, no one does. I control the senior class. I am also the leader of the Puffs, the most exclusive society on this campus, and I have the power to make her life a living hell."
"Francie, she's-"
"I can make sure she does nothing this year but lead the student body in whatever version of the Pledge of Allegiance happens to be constitutional at the time. I have the power. Me. I can protect her or destroy her. Now here's what I want you to do. Make her play ball. She's going to support the hemline issue, and any other issue I happen to bring up this year. Otherwise I'll make her so ineffectual, she'll make Jimmy Carter look like Martin Sheen – do you get me?"
She had pushed me too far. "No, Francie. I don't get you. Do you know what I do get? Morning sickness, and I have it right now. Do not threaten someone with morning sickness, it's very dangerous. Oh, one other thing, quit calling me Meyer Lansky, for one thing my boyfriend is the troublemaker, not me, and two, it makes me think of Oscar Meyer hot dogs and bologna, and as you may have guessed, I'm not in the mood to think of food. But in the edited words of Meyer Lansky, shove your protection up your three-quarters of an inch above the knee skirt," I said before storming out of the bathroom, leaving her stunned.
*
The next day after school I went to Luke's. No Jess. Or at least so I thought. Then I noticed Jess walking by the window, not in, like he had just left.
I jumped off my stool and went out after him.
"Hey." I ran up beside him.
His jaw visibly tightened. "Hey."
I folded my arms in front of me. "I realize I'm terrifying, but you've been running away from me all week and, well, I'm the runner. Not you. So stop it."
"I have not been running," he said.
"You have so been running."
"I haven't been running," he mumbled, tucking something into his pocket and continuing to walk.
"You're Timothy Cherigat," I stated.
He sighed and stopped walking. "You're right. I have been running."
"Thank you. Now... I would ask why you're running, but I think I probably already know. So instead I'm going to ask if you're going to stop running."
He didn't reply, probably because he didn't know how.
"I haven't been chasing you because... well, it kind of makes me feel a little pathetic, but mostly because I wanted to give you time to think. I feel like I've given you time to think."
He still didn't say anything.
"And ...I'm an excellent conversationalist if you'll give talking a try."
"Aren't you scared?"
His reply took me off guard. "Of course I'm scared," I said quietly, as if admitting it. "But there's really nothing we can do about it now, as my mom pointed out. So I'm just... dealing with it. Alone with the exception of my mother," I added. "And the only reason I chased you today is because I wanted to tell you that Monday is my first doctor's appointment, and I want to know if I'm going with my mom or with you." I took a silent breath. I was asking about much more than just a doctor's appointment. I was talking about the whole pregnancy ordeal. He knew that, that's why it took him a couple seconds to reply.
"You're going with me, as long as I'm still invited," he finally said.
I broke out into a grin and gave him a hug. "You're only invited if you bring me a donut."
He smiled. "I thought you got sick on donuts."
"Oh, well, I did, but here's what I've been thinking..." He wrapped and arm around me and we walked down the street as I explained my theory about the baby just not being used to eating like a Gilmore yet and that being the reason for my sickness. The rest of that day went pretty well.
I didn't know it at the time, but the next day wouldn't go as well...
***
A/N: Sorry, the Paris/Francie/Rory thing sort of overtook me for awhile, but I hated how the show did that and I wanted to voice Rory's mood swings.. and pregnancy to the whole school. But that last part wasn't my fault. I swear. Rory did it! *points and runs*
Oh, and as for the ending... *grin* I'm cruel? Just review, then you'll see why the next day doesn't go well. I'm beginning to understand authors who write cliffhangers. It's just a cry for reviews!
PLEASE REVIEW! I'll be eternally grateful! So grateful that I'll update! *clears throat and cues music* MUAHAHAHAHAHA!