The important thing is this: to be able at any moment to sacrifice what we are for what we could become

Disclaimer: I don't own a damn thing. Yes, I'm bitter. It all belongs to Amy Sherman Palladino and the WB. The conversation at the end, between Rory and Marty is not mine.

Rating: PG-13 for now. May go higher. Probably will, actually.

Spoilers: Everything up until episode three of season 4, The Hobbit, The Sofa and Digger Stiles.

Dedication: To Priya on her 15th birthday! This is belated, I know. But you're the coolest fifteen-year-old I know!

Chapter One: Make New Friends, But Keep The Old

To say that she was surprised to see Tristan in her dorm room was the mother of all understatements. Flashes of their encounters at Chilton ran through her muddled brain: 'Mary', the fight with Dean at the Winter Formal, PJ Harvey, Romeo and Juliet…the one comforting kiss near a grand piano.

"Tristan," she almost breathed out finally as he watched her, the amusement he was trying to keep in check seeping through in the deepening of his dimples and the crinkle around his eyes. "Wow. You're here. At Yale. In my room."

He crossed his arms over his chest and chuckled softly. "Yes, I am. This is the part where I say; it's a small world, isn't it?"

"And getting smaller," she replied with a smile, tugging at the hem of her shirt.

"I'm actually pretty surprised to see you here, too." He casually walked over to her desk, pulled out her chair a straddled it. She shifted on the bed, still uncomfortable with him being in her room. "If I remember correctly, you were going to go to Harvard."

She shrugged, twisting her sleeve with her finger. "Things changed. Uh, where do you go to school?"

He looked at her oddly for a second before smirking. "Yale."

"No you don't."

"Oh yeah, you're right," he said mockingly. "I don't. I forgot, idiot that I am."

She gave him a sheepish smile, her mind still reeling from the fact that Tristan DuGrey was in college with her. "I…sorry. I just am shocked. Not shocked that you got into Yale just shocked that you're in Yale. Not that you wouldn't be in Yale. It's perfectly reasonable. I didn't see you at orientation and I haven't seen you on campus yet and I just…sorry."

He gave her another funny look, his mouth twitching slightly as he tried to contain his amusement. "I understand. It's like a Chilton invasion. I saw Madeline and Louise out there."

"I take it you're escaping them?"

"Why would I want to escape two beautiful girls?" he asked with a grin that was so familiar, Rory felt they were actually back in Chilton again. When she rolled her eyes he laughed and shook his head. "There are these girls, twins that my grandmother knows from one of her associations. DAR or something like it. Anyway, they're really…uh, overzealous."

Amused, she quirked an eyebrow. "How so?"

"They're giving me a nickname. I believe they've settled on Trissy." He barely repressed a shudder and Rory burst out laughing. "Hey! It's not funny."

"Oh no, from where I'm sitting it's hilarious," she teased in between gasp of mirth, holding her stomach. "It suits you perfectly." An unwilling grin tugged at his lips and he shook his head in disbelief. They stared at each other as their laughed died down and Rory felt uncomfortable again as his blue eyes stayed set on her intently. She felt heat rising to her cheeks as she stared back. "What?"

He shook his head again, slightly. He crossed his arms over the back of her chair and rested his chin on top of it, scrutinizing her face again, as if searching for something. "I just…after the way we left things off that time, I never thought I'd see you again."

She caught on to how his voice softened as he said the last part and looked away, smiling slightly. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I was sure I wasn't going to see you again."

His brows furrowed even though he was chuckling. "I'm not exactly sure how I am supposed to take that. But I guess we were both wrong. So tell me, Gilmore, what are you doing in here when there's a party going out there?"

She lifted her book up and smiled sheepishly. "Catching up on my reading, of course."

"Why am I not surprised?"

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what it sounds like," he replied smoothly. "I mean, of course you'd rather be sitting on your bed reading rather than you know…try and make friends."

It was funny how he hadn't lost the ability to go from being tolerable to annoying in a matter of seconds.

She frowned as her eyes narrowed in his direction and she ignored the little voice in her head that taunted her about his accuracy of his assessment. "I have friends."

"Someone other than your roommates?" he asked challengingly and she hated the smugness in his tone. "Although, I'm pretty sure you're hardly friends with them. Let me see, the person you share this room with annoys the hell out of you most of the time. She's probably, in your opinion, neurotic and overbearing and you want to pull her hair out."

Rory felt an unwilling grin tug at her lips at his unknowingly truthful description of Paris Gellar. Of course, he had no idea the other Chiltonite went to Yale so she smiled grudgingly. "Okay, fine. You're right about that. So what, it doesn't prove anything."

"Alright," he conceded, standing up and walking over to the bed. "Let's see, the other two girls are a little too weird for your tastes. I met the athlete - Janet, was it? Well, she seems pretty intense. So you probably feel like you could never have anything in common with her and hence, you'll avoid her at all costs."

"That is not true," she protested uselessly but when he merely raised an eyebrow, she sighed. "Alright fine, yes, that was the plan. How can I possibly have something in common with someone who wakes up at five o'clock to run?"

"I ran everyday at five for the past two years," he replied with a shrug.

She smiled at him with mock sweetness. "Well then, you just proved my point."

"Funny girl," he stated with a grin as he pocketed his hands. "You should be nicer to me, Gilmore. I'm the only friend you may have here at Yale."

"Then I should probably kill myself right now," she deadpanned.

"Ah that quick wit," he drawled, sitting down at the foot of her bed. "How did I ever do without it?"

Before she could say anything else, the distinct sound of Paris shouting loudly at a group of unsuspecting people, permeated through the door and cut off her response. "Okay, everybody out, now! This room is closed. Take your gross beer and your inane conversations somewhere else. Move!"

Tristan's eyes widened in surprise as he stared at the door and then back at her, his expression almost comical. "Please, tell me that's not who I think it is."

Rory's grin belied the regret in her voice. "Sorry, I can't do that."

He shook his head in disbelief. "Paris Gellar at Yale?"

"The one and only." Tristan walked to the door, wrenching it open and she followed, wanting to see the spectacle for herself. Paris had just managed to shoo away the last of the party and closed the door with an annoyed huff. Tristan was watching her as if she weren't real and Rory cleared her throat. "What happened?"

"I don't even know why I tri-" Paris started but cut herself off when she turned and saw Tristan standing there. Her eyes narrowed dangerously as she took him in and Rory was scared that she might actually lash out. "You!"

To his credit, he barely flinched and managed another charming smile. "Gellar! What a surprise!"

"What the hell are you doing here?" she raged, stalking up to him.

"I go to school here," he answered innocently.

Paris looked at him as if she would love nothing more than to slap the stupid smile off his face. When she looked at Rory for some kind of reassurance, the brunette nodded meekly.

"Stay away from me," she told him icily before pushing past him and slamming the door of their room shut behind her.

Tristan ran his tongue over the front of his teeth and looked mildly amused. "So she's still mad at me, huh?"

She gave him a pitying look and crossed her arms over her chest. "She's got the memory of an elephant."

He let out a sigh and gave her a sidelong glance. "It should be interesting to say the least."

"What should?"

"Me, you and Paris Gellar in Yale together," he replied with a wry smile. "Just like Chilton."

"God, I hope it's nothing like Chilton," she quipped with a horrified look on her face.

He laughed as he walked towards the door. Once he was there, he turned to her inclining his head to the side as he studied her once more, those blue eyes scrutinizing her face so intently she shifted in her place. "Very interesting, indeed. I'll see you around, Gilmore."

She raised her hand in a half-wave as he closed the door behind him.

~*~

Rory could not believe what she was seeing. She knew that college was supposed to bring open up a new world to her and make her experience new things but she would never have imagined waking up in the middle of the night because of a sound she heard in the hallway, only to find a naked guy sprawled there.

Tentatively, she woke him up with the tie of her robe not knowing what else to do.

He looked up groggily, unsure of his surroundings. "Hi."

"Hi," she greeted back. Should she just tell him about his state of undress?

"I'm on the floor," he stated matter-of-factly.

"You were sleeping," she told him needlessly, wrapping her arms around her torso.

"I have no clothes on." Oh good he knew.  

"No, you don't," she confirmed, staring at him apologetically.

He seemed to be putting it altogether. "I'm on the floor, I have no clothes on, and you're a girl, so I must be…"

"On the wrong floor."

"Oh, boy." He finally sounded as embarrassed as she felt.

"Where's your room?"

"I think up. Are we on the first floor?" When she said yes, he nodded. "Then up. Any idea how long I've been here?"

"No."

"So you have no idea how many people have walked by while I've…" he trailed off, flushing again.

Rory gave him the same kind of pitying look she had given Tristan earlier. "Sorry."

"Great. Now for the rest of my time at Yale, I'm gonna be 'the naked guy'." Rory thought of the nickname Tristan had labeled her with on the first day of Chilton and immediately felt sorry for him. Mary was infinitely better than Naked Guy. He continued to rant, "And you know what's really great? Tomorrow, when the "naked guy" nickname starts spreading around campus like wildfire, I'm gonna be in my third hour of throwing up."

"Well, it's been really quiet out here for a while now, so there's a chance that no one but me has actually seen you yet," she stated optimistically.

Hope flared in his eyes. "Oh yeah?"

"I promise I won't say anything," she affirmed and then started to ramble. "And if there's a chance that you could refrain from, you know, being naked again in the wrong hallway at the next party, then there's a chance you might get a completely different nickname, like 'the never-naked guy'."

"You're a very kind person," he complimented as he started to get up.

Rory's eyes widened and she turned away from him before she got an eyeful. "Wait. Hold on. Um, you can borrow this."

She took off her robe and handed it to him. He thanked her and she looked away while h put it on. One he was done, she turned to look at him and bit her lower lip to keep from laughing at the sight of him in her blue robe. "Hey, weren't you in my Japanese Fiction class today?"

"Yeah, that's right."

"I thought so. Hi, I'm, uh…Marty," he introduced himself.

"Um…Rory."

"I won't remember that tomorrow."

"That's perfectly understandable."

"So I should probably try and find my room. And my pants, 'cause that's where I kept my keys," he informed her and she wondered how this encounter could possibly get any weirder,

"So pants first."

"Right, pants first."

"Night," she said and then he turned to leave as he mumbled something about being stupider than his brother.

The night is officially going to go under Weirdest Nights of My Life, she thought to herself as she walked back to her room. First Tristan DuGrey's at Yale and now some random naked guy has my favorite robe.

As she crawled back into her bed and thought of what Tristan said about the year being interesting. Closing her eyes, she sighed and snuggled against her pillow. If tonight was a preview of her life at Yale, then she agreed with him: life would definitely not be boring.