Chapter Eight
Jess
This was ridiculous. Here I was, a perfectly sensible person, sitting down in the living room with Paris Gellar as she exposed to me her evil plot. And I was actually listening.
Apparently, the only reason Paris wanted me around was that she and her boyfriend were having some kind of argument and she was trying to prove something by making him jealous.
"As far as Terrance knows, we're broken up, and I need a confidante of some sort to get me through it. He's actually the one who suggested that I approach you," she looked at her hands on her lap, "because you said you were fine with me being me."
God, for a life coach, this guy isn't doing a very good job; encouraging someone like Paris for rebounding and revenge? Jesus. I crossed my arms and looked at her carefully, "I am. But why not just try another, saner plan and consider Rory for the role?"
She flapped her hand at me and snorted, "With her new boy toy, you think she'll have time to do this?"
My heart collapsed, but I tried my best not to flinch when the word "boy toy" reached my auditory organs. I shifted my gaze towards the blank television and nonchalantly reaffirmed what Paris had informed.
"Rory's got a boyfriend?"
She wrinkled her nose in thought and after a bit, "Well, not exactly, but I think there's something going on, or about to go on. She and the guy are getting pretty close. Personally, I think the guy's too good-looking to be trustworthy. But hey, I didn't like you at first, either, but look where we are now—thick as thieves."
I rolled my eyes and then started to frown but checked the action. So what if Rory didn't care for me anymore? It's not like I still like her either. Psh. But as I thought these thoughts, a line ran instantly through my mind:
"I think I may have loved you, but--,"
But nothing. She's moved on, a little fast for my liking, but I'm not going to stop her. She's not my little dog to control.
I hadn't noticed Paris staring at me until she cleared her throat, jarring me from my thoughts. "So, are you willing to do this thing for me? I kind of need an answer ASAP because Jaime's arriving tomorrow afternoon."
"How sweet," I said flatly.
Paris smacked her fist on the table, "I'll crush him like a bug."
God, memo to self: Never be Paris's boyfriend.
Oh, wait, scratch that—just never piss Paris off.
***
Well, this was a start of a new (and utterly ludicrous) existence for me. I am now about to be Jess Mariano, bogus boyfriend extraordinaire. Almost.
I walked up their suite door the morning after and knocked. I waited a few seconds but was not gratified an entrance, and waiting some time longer proved that I wasn't about to be any time soon. I was about to walk away in silent annoyance but stopped when I heard the door unlock behind me.
It was Rory who stuck her head out to see who it was. It was, of course, me with a limp wave and a hand in my pocket. She seemed startled for a moment, but gathered herself immediately.
"Hey, Jess," she greeted with a twinge of awkwardness and a tuck of her hair behind her ear.
I waited patiently until she remembered her manners and with a small nod towards the inside of the room, she finally understood my meaning and let me in.
She closed the door behind her, "So, uh, Jess, what brings you here?"
"Nothing," I replied, peeking into her and Paris's room. "You're all alone here?"
She shifted around as she answered me, "Um, yeah. My roommates all have class and Paris is… actually, I have absolutely no idea where Paris is. She's probably getting ready for her boyfriend. He's coming to visit this afternoon."
My lip twitched. She was probably out buying a gun or something to "get ready for her boyfriend." If, in twenty years, or even three weeks, Paris suddenly gets arrested, I'd say I wouldn't be that surprised.
"I heard you've caught yourself one, as well." God dammit. I couldn't keep the jealousy out of my voice enough to make it a casual question. At all.
"Why would you care?" It didn't sound defensive in the least. It was delivered in a teasing tone with a small smile at me.
Of course Rory had caught on and now she was probably having a mental field day at the knowledge that I cared.
Crap. I was cornered. It was just like that stupid Yale conversation. But only this time I had no right to care whether she had a boyfriend or not because of the simple fact that even if she did, it wasn't going to be me.
"I don't." I inwardly picked up their sofa and dropped it on my head. Nice save, Loverboy. If it was possible, I'd have strangled myself right in front of her.
She fixed me with a knowing smile and chuckled at me.
Great. Now she's got me under her thumb. This meeting was just so magical.
"You, uh," I looked at her, "I better leave you to study or something. I'll come back next time."
I started towards the door when I felt her grab my hand. I stared at our interlinked hands and fought the wave of somethingorother from overcoming me. She probably felt the same somethingorother because she quickly let go of my hand. (My, I was awfully articulate today, wasn't I?) She hugged herself instead, "No, no, stay with me."
Rory
He simply looked at me when I uttered my request. I could feel his hand still. A glance at his suggested I wasn't the only one. He was clenching and unclenching his fist absently at his side.
Slowly, he stepped forward and closer to me. His face hovered over mine and I knew he was going to do something fantastic.
Something so fantastic I'd be smiling all month about it.
But the fantastic experience never came because his lips never touched mine. Instead, I felt his breath as he said in a low whisper, "I always trusted you. I want you to know that."
Tears welled up when I realized the meaning of what he'd said.
I wanted to kiss him so badly it hurt. Just as I was about to lean into him, he pulled away, the tiniest hint of gentleness in his stoic features.
I'd missed my chance.
He turned again and reached for the doorknob.
"Jess!" I admit, I was getting rather tired of calling after this boy. Really. I opened my mouth to speak, but Paris suddenly burst through the door, knocking Jess in the face with it.
"Is he here?" she asked frantically, looking around the room. "Is Jaime here?"
I scrunched my face and ran to Jess, who was standing in a daze behind the door, "No, he's not here yet! I thought he was going to call you!"
I took Jess's arm and sat him on the couch. He looked at me with a blank expression as I touched his forehead lightly and flinched at the pressure.
It took Paris a while to realize that she had just hit somebody with a slab of oak, but when it did, she rushed to the fridge to get some ice, talking the whole time.
"I wouldn't have hit you if you hadn't been so Patrick Suwayze to Demi Moore over here, dammit!"
Soon, Jess had regained his senses and the stars and cuckoo birds had faded away from his field of view, clutching the bag of ice to his face.
"I'm sorry, Paris, I'll never be an innocent bystander ever again," he said with enough sarcasm to make me smile. Only Paris could knock a person unconscious and still be the one apologised to.