Chapter 4 – Lifting the Veil
Tristan woke with a start, sweating, knowing something was wrong. He didn't know what, but he knew it was there. He reached over and turned his alarm off, having woken up before it even went off. Not wanting to work himself up even more, he took a quick shower, and headed down for an early breakfast.
"Good morning, Mr. Tristan," Carmella, the cook, greeted him as he dropped his backpack next to the island. Almost collapsing, Tristan held up the mandatory Chilton blazer, tie, and his "aren't-I-rich" shoes to show he remembered.
"See, I have them today, Carmella. And you can relax, my parents are nowhere near up yet," Tristan smiled in spite of himself. Carmella had been there for him for as long as he could remember. She would sneak him treats, hide him when his parents were angry, and was the only confidant he had.
"What's bothering you this morning, hun? I would have thought you'd be happy to be home still. I know it's no haven, but it's not boot camp, you have to give it back. I was only gone for one day, my rare Monday off, and I come back to find you like this? I don't like it one bit," as she gently prodded Tristan for information, she placed a stack of warm pancakes in front of him. She smiled slightly as he drenched them with syrup and started to plow into them. At least he hadn't lost his appetite. "Come on, sweetie, out with it. What's going on in that head of yours?"
Tristan heaved a sigh, then looked up, his blue eyes meeting her chocolate ones. "You remember that girl I told you about before I left, Rory?"
"I think you mentioned her once or twice," Carmella teased the boy in front of her. He had obsessed over her from the moment she walked into his life until he left for military school. She had assumed, of course, that the obsession never stopped, but this confirmed it.
"Well, I saw her yesterday. We only said hi, barely that, and I don't think she even thought about it, but it meant the world to me. Coming back and finding her here, the same, makes me think that there may be some hope for me yet. You know? Like if the one bright light was still here, then maybe I can still follow it." He paused, unsure of what to say next. "I don't know, does that make any sense?"
"Of course it does," Carmella lowered herself onto the chair next to Tristan's, her worry increasing because he had abandoned his plate, a very uncharacteristic gesture. She didn't know what else there was to say. She had her one shining light too, and she knew how it felt to be thankful it was still there. Sure, she and Tristan had shared almost everything with each other, but it wasn't the same. They were the anchors in each other's lives, not the goal, the perfection.
They heard footsteps approaching, the sound of women's heels. A second later, Millicent was standing in the doorway, watching her son pull on his shoes, and her cook work on breakfast for the rest of the house.
"Tristan, you really should get going. You don't want to be late the second day back," she instructed.
"No ma'am," Tristan responded, thinking that that was what he really did want. He threw his tie around his neck, and grabbed his jacket. Throwing his book-heavy bag over his shoulder, he gave his mother the mandatory kiss on the cheek, then started out. He glanced back to smile a sincere grin at his lone friend in the giant house. She winked back, clearing his dishes, and he just barely missed the newest maid on the way out. He sighed, nodding at her in way of greeting, not even being aware of her name. As he opened the giant front doors, he thought how much of a shame it was that his mother never liked a maid long enough for him to get to know one as well as he knew Carmella. He opened the shiny black door of his car and threw his backpack and jacket on the seat next to him.
Glancing at the beat-up old car he knew Carmella drove on his way down the long, winding driveway, he cast a sorrowful glance at the house slowly shrinking in the background. He wished there was something he could do, but his mother would fire Carmella if he ever tried to give her a car or money for a new one. It was as if she was so unhappy, she wanted everyone else to be the same way. Blinking back tears, Tristan reluctantly steered his car in the direction of his school, his escape from his prison.
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Rory stepped off the bus the next morning desperate to avoid running into anyone. She had a black eye, and she thought she had a couple of bruised ribs. She had managed to avoid her mother that morning, as well as most of the town, by getting on an insanely early bus, then getting off at a random stop to wait for her regular one. She just sat and tried to read, although for probably the first time in her life, she couldn't manage to read. She was just too distracted, considering what would happen when she got home.
Rory knew everyone, especially her mom and Luke, would be worried about her, but she didn't have the energy to care. Jess didn't usually get up until the last possible second, so it was possible he wouldn't know for a little while, maybe not until after she got safely into her house. She figured she'd just try to get through the day as quickly as possible, and figure out a lie to tell people whenever she got a chance.. She knew she could avoid answering those questions at school, as most people seemed to prefer pretending she didn't exist. That someone without endless money went to their school.
She was concerned though. Stars Hollow was such a small town, that everyone would know in a matter of hours. More than likely the town already knew that Rory had taken off early. Maybe, if she could get to her mother first, she could pull of a sort of banging into something story with the rest of the town. If they kept insisting that was the truth, most people would give up, and accept that as the truth. Her mom, Luke, Jess, and Lane would be much harder to deal with. They all knew her too well to believe that kind of story. And they could usually tell when Rory was lying, which would not help the matter.
With her head down, Rory made her way as quickly as possible to her locker, and then to her first class. As she went about her daily routine, Rory allowed her mind to drift back to the little she remembered about the night before. Dean had barged into her room, knocking the phone out of her hands. She knew she had screamed a lot, and she could only hope that the phone had been turned off before everything had started. She couldn't bear the thought that Jess had heard everything that had happened. There wasn't much else she could remember. Not clearly anyway. The next thing she remembered was waking up around four in the morning, in pain from her wounds.
The bell rang, startling Rory out of her thoughts. She tried to act as though everything was normal, but she knew she wasn't doing a very good job. Luckily, no one in Chilton cared enough to tell, and even if they did, they had no interest in finding out what was wrong. She was also very careful to keep her hair in her face throughout the day. She wanted no one to see what had happened to her.
Finally, Rory walked into her last class of the day. She heaved a giant sigh of relief at the thought. She was early for class, so her mind started to wander. Like the rest of the day, her thoughts landed on the day before. How she didn't know for sure what had happened. And how she wanted Dean to be innocent, for someone else to be responsible. But she knew that the guy she had fallen in love with had done something to her. She wasn't positive exactly what it was, but she knew that it wasn't good. As she thought about it, a tear slipped down her cheek. She wiped it away as quickly as possible, and willed herself not to cry, at least not until she had a place to hide.
Tristan woke with a start, sweating, knowing something was wrong. He didn't know what, but he knew it was there. He reached over and turned his alarm off, having woken up before it even went off. Not wanting to work himself up even more, he took a quick shower, and headed down for an early breakfast.
"Good morning, Mr. Tristan," Carmella, the cook, greeted him as he dropped his backpack next to the island. Almost collapsing, Tristan held up the mandatory Chilton blazer, tie, and his "aren't-I-rich" shoes to show he remembered.
"See, I have them today, Carmella. And you can relax, my parents are nowhere near up yet," Tristan smiled in spite of himself. Carmella had been there for him for as long as he could remember. She would sneak him treats, hide him when his parents were angry, and was the only confidant he had.
"What's bothering you this morning, hun? I would have thought you'd be happy to be home still. I know it's no haven, but it's not boot camp, you have to give it back. I was only gone for one day, my rare Monday off, and I come back to find you like this? I don't like it one bit," as she gently prodded Tristan for information, she placed a stack of warm pancakes in front of him. She smiled slightly as he drenched them with syrup and started to plow into them. At least he hadn't lost his appetite. "Come on, sweetie, out with it. What's going on in that head of yours?"
Tristan heaved a sigh, then looked up, his blue eyes meeting her chocolate ones. "You remember that girl I told you about before I left, Rory?"
"I think you mentioned her once or twice," Carmella teased the boy in front of her. He had obsessed over her from the moment she walked into his life until he left for military school. She had assumed, of course, that the obsession never stopped, but this confirmed it.
"Well, I saw her yesterday. We only said hi, barely that, and I don't think she even thought about it, but it meant the world to me. Coming back and finding her here, the same, makes me think that there may be some hope for me yet. You know? Like if the one bright light was still here, then maybe I can still follow it." He paused, unsure of what to say next. "I don't know, does that make any sense?"
"Of course it does," Carmella lowered herself onto the chair next to Tristan's, her worry increasing because he had abandoned his plate, a very uncharacteristic gesture. She didn't know what else there was to say. She had her one shining light too, and she knew how it felt to be thankful it was still there. Sure, she and Tristan had shared almost everything with each other, but it wasn't the same. They were the anchors in each other's lives, not the goal, the perfection.
They heard footsteps approaching, the sound of women's heels. A second later, Millicent was standing in the doorway, watching her son pull on his shoes, and her cook work on breakfast for the rest of the house.
"Tristan, you really should get going. You don't want to be late the second day back," she instructed.
"No ma'am," Tristan responded, thinking that that was what he really did want. He threw his tie around his neck, and grabbed his jacket. Throwing his book-heavy bag over his shoulder, he gave his mother the mandatory kiss on the cheek, then started out. He glanced back to smile a sincere grin at his lone friend in the giant house. She winked back, clearing his dishes, and he just barely missed the newest maid on the way out. He sighed, nodding at her in way of greeting, not even being aware of her name. As he opened the giant front doors, he thought how much of a shame it was that his mother never liked a maid long enough for him to get to know one as well as he knew Carmella. He opened the shiny black door of his car and threw his backpack and jacket on the seat next to him.
Glancing at the beat-up old car he knew Carmella drove on his way down the long, winding driveway, he cast a sorrowful glance at the house slowly shrinking in the background. He wished there was something he could do, but his mother would fire Carmella if he ever tried to give her a car or money for a new one. It was as if she was so unhappy, she wanted everyone else to be the same way. Blinking back tears, Tristan reluctantly steered his car in the direction of his school, his escape from his prison.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Rory stepped off the bus the next morning desperate to avoid running into anyone. She had a black eye, and she thought she had a couple of bruised ribs. She had managed to avoid her mother that morning, as well as most of the town, by getting on an insanely early bus, then getting off at a random stop to wait for her regular one. She just sat and tried to read, although for probably the first time in her life, she couldn't manage to read. She was just too distracted, considering what would happen when she got home.
Rory knew everyone, especially her mom and Luke, would be worried about her, but she didn't have the energy to care. Jess didn't usually get up until the last possible second, so it was possible he wouldn't know for a little while, maybe not until after she got safely into her house. She figured she'd just try to get through the day as quickly as possible, and figure out a lie to tell people whenever she got a chance.. She knew she could avoid answering those questions at school, as most people seemed to prefer pretending she didn't exist. That someone without endless money went to their school.
She was concerned though. Stars Hollow was such a small town, that everyone would know in a matter of hours. More than likely the town already knew that Rory had taken off early. Maybe, if she could get to her mother first, she could pull of a sort of banging into something story with the rest of the town. If they kept insisting that was the truth, most people would give up, and accept that as the truth. Her mom, Luke, Jess, and Lane would be much harder to deal with. They all knew her too well to believe that kind of story. And they could usually tell when Rory was lying, which would not help the matter.
With her head down, Rory made her way as quickly as possible to her locker, and then to her first class. As she went about her daily routine, Rory allowed her mind to drift back to the little she remembered about the night before. Dean had barged into her room, knocking the phone out of her hands. She knew she had screamed a lot, and she could only hope that the phone had been turned off before everything had started. She couldn't bear the thought that Jess had heard everything that had happened. There wasn't much else she could remember. Not clearly anyway. The next thing she remembered was waking up around four in the morning, in pain from her wounds.
The bell rang, startling Rory out of her thoughts. She tried to act as though everything was normal, but she knew she wasn't doing a very good job. Luckily, no one in Chilton cared enough to tell, and even if they did, they had no interest in finding out what was wrong. She was also very careful to keep her hair in her face throughout the day. She wanted no one to see what had happened to her.
Finally, Rory walked into her last class of the day. She heaved a giant sigh of relief at the thought. She was early for class, so her mind started to wander. Like the rest of the day, her thoughts landed on the day before. How she didn't know for sure what had happened. And how she wanted Dean to be innocent, for someone else to be responsible. But she knew that the guy she had fallen in love with had done something to her. She wasn't positive exactly what it was, but she knew that it wasn't good. As she thought about it, a tear slipped down her cheek. She wiped it away as quickly as possible, and willed herself not to cry, at least not until she had a place to hide.