Chapter Three

Rory

"Tristan DuGrey?" I asked, rather surprised to hear his name mentioned again.  I thought he'd be one of those names that sort of vanished once you graduate high school.

But hey, this was Tristan we're talking about.  The Supreme Being who believed that no rules could or would ever have to apply to any part of his wealthy stature.

"You deaf?"  Joe asked the same question earlier, but this time I felt a little friendliness seep through the smart retort.  I started to grin.

And promptly cleared my throat, reminding myself that this wasn't Connecticut anymore.  These people were hardcore.  Manly grunt.

"How do you know so many people I know?"

He merely shrugged, "It's the way the world works, friend."

"Well, how come I haven't even met you through my grandmother… or," I squinted my eye, "Sherry?"

"Lorelai, I've spent five years and a considerable amount of money in a university that bred doctors and lawyers since the dawn of time.  My parents aren't exactly… jumping at the chance to introduce me to young ladies of promise in their social circles, you know?"

I shoved my chin out at the thought.  "I can't imagine you in a dinner party or a formal at all."

"Exactly."  He gave me a wicked smile as I understood his words.

My heart sank when I suddenly remembered how Jess used to smile like that when he was still, you know… normal.  Joe saw the change in my expression and looked at me dubiously (the third time in ten minutes).

"What?  You look like the poster girl for Valium."

I sighed, further supporting his comment, "You got a girlfriend, Joe?"

He pursed his lips, "Yes.  Yes, I do, sorry to break your heart."

I glared at his arrogance, yet ventured on with my diatribe.  "Well, imagine your girlfriend without… anything."

"You mean like clothes on?" he asked coyly.

Grabbing my sweater tighter around myself, I rolled my eyes.  Joe was certainly a part of Tristan's crowd.

"No, Jeem.  I meant, without…," I shrugged, "Motivation.  Hope.  A future."

"Without promise?" he suggested in an eager tone which I didn't appreciate.

"Yeah.  But at the same time, you know he could have done so much more and things could have been… nicer."

Then I realized that I had just said some pretty personal things.  To a stranger.  To someone my grandmother sent.  To a pervert.

I put my hands on my face, embarrassed.

"Um, forget that I said anything, Joe.  Sorry about that," I quickly offered, gathering my books into my bag and getting up.

"Did he die or something?" Joe asked suddenly, making my head jolt upwards to face him.

"Well, no, but…," I thought for a moment, "I guess, kind of."  I know it was a terrible thing to say, but that's what it felt like to me at that moment.  Jess just… up and went, without warning, without returning.

He frowned and raised an eyebrow, "Bummer."

I let out a short breath, a start of a controlled laugh, a sound usually emitted by a person when surprised with an amusing thing.  Joe was starting to warm up, to my surprise, and I appreciated it so much more than to put in words.

He was being my friend.  Like, a dozen people kind of forced him to me, but… he was being my friend.

And I needed that now more than ever.

"Hey, Joe?"

He stubbed his cigarette on the bench armrest, blowing the ashes slowly to the ground, completely ignoring me.  Talk about ADD…

"Can you call me Rory?"

"Why?  Is it some sort of sick pet name you enjoy being called?  Like Sex Kitten or Mom?"

I didn't know how to react to his humour, yet, but I found it refreshing and, God help me, even witty.  I gave him a goofy smile and scratched my head absently.

In return, he nodded with a smirk, "Rory it is."

My hand was clutching the straps of my bag, but I had this strange notion of wanting to stay.  It was like I was stuck in that moment, me frozen in indecision, him waiting calmly for the result.

What the hey.

I dropped my bag and sat next to him again.  He went, "Psh," and crossed his arms in front of him.

"So, what's going on with Tristan nowadays?"

"He's fine; I guess… he hasn't been writing much—the bastard.  I think he's coming home soon, though."

I leaned back and thought of the prospect of seeing Tristan DuGrey again.

Hopefully he'd grown out of his annoying, childish ways.

"Last I heard, he's got the kids groveling at his feet."

Maybe not.

Jess

Climbing up the stairs, I kind of felt very, well, I'd like to say Dustin Hoffman with the cranky landlord to his room, but to be honest, Audrey Hepburn with that tall Spanish man to her party, actually. 

It didn't help that he was wearing a Madonna tee and a blue feather boa, either.

"So you new here?" Roberto asked me as he led me up to Ma-Huen's apartment.  His ass was doing that swish-swish thing that only gay guys could pull off.  In my face, nonetheless, as he climbed a few steps more than me.

"Pretty much."

I wasn't homophobic or anything.  I lived in New York, for God's sake.  But I wasn't Conan O'Brien, either.  Conversational aspects of socialization were, sadly, not my forte.  Revolt and annoying I can do, but not friendly-to-all.

"What courses are you taking, Jess?"

"A little bit of everything, actually."

Roberto chuckled, a rich, very gay laugh.  "Still finding your way around the world, huh?"

"That's right.  What floor is this apartment?"

The place wasn't dingy, but it wasn't the Ritz Carlton, either.  It was an old-fashioned building, and obviously restored quite regularly.  At least there weren't any rats running around having babies on my foot or anything.

"We're almost there."

We finally reached the stupid floor and I dropped my bag with a thud on the ground, tired.  Roberto smiled at me apologetically and knocked on the door daintily.

"Ma-Huen, someone's here for you!"

"Who?" a muffled voice came from inside.  I heard some shuffling and the door slowly opened.  Out popped the face of Ma-Huen, eyes like little chinks on a wall, face sour like a lemon.

"Jess," I simply put, leaving the processing to him.  It took him a while, but he got there.

His eyebrows jumped and he nodded vigorously, "Oh, yeah, new roommate, that's right."

"I'll leave you two boys alone," Roberto said excitedly as he exited, clutching the end of his boa and waving it at us.

He opened the front door wider to let me in, and when I got in there, I sighed at the irony.  Remember when I mentioned Audrey Hepburn and tall Spanish guy?

Well, apparently, I was going to live with Mickey Rooney.

Author's Note:

Hey guys.  Wow, this baby's doing good, eh?  Thanks again for all your support and the constructive criticism as well.  I do believe Jess is a "skater," but I could be wrong.  I got the idea from the publicity photos from Luminary, with him in Venice Beach, skating towards God knows where… I'm sorry if that causes some sort of problem to anyone (scratched head).

I know I kind of lost Jess for a moment back there, probably a "Consider This" nostalgia moment, you know.  Haha.

And really, dude, I'm on my knees here.  None Of That Emo Crap's not going to well and we'd appreciate some submissions.  We'll be cool, we promise!

emo.blah-mah-gah.net