Defending Bjork
Chapter 16: Everything and Nothing
Disclaimer: I write because it makes me happy, not because I intend to step on any toes. Without ASP, this story wouldn't exist. And that's a fact.
A/N: To my little sister, who never fails me; to Marissa, who never needs to apologize; to all of the readers, who make writing worthwhile; and to my mom, who never insisted that I learn how to cook. Enjoy! ~Becka
The tiny words blurred indistinctly in front of Rory's eyes as, for the thousandth time that morning, her mind drifted elsewhere. She quickly realized she wasn't focusing and pulled herself back, stubbornly fixing her eyes on the text. Moments later, she couldn't remember a single word she'd just read. Giving up, she sighed and dropped her pencil into the open spine of her textbook. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she glanced around at the other tables. They were empty. Aside from the visibly bored person behind the main desk, the Chilton library was deserted. Rory glanced at her watch. It was barely past seven. She still had almost an hour to waste – time that would normally be spent sleeping or talking with her mom or going to the diner for breakfast. But not today. Maybe, not ever again.
Removing the pencil, she shut her book. The action was louder than she'd expected, and the bored desk worker glanced over at her in clear irritation. Rory averted her eyes and shoved her things into her backpack. Then, she stood up, slung the heavy bag over her shoulder, and headed into the stacks. There had to be at least one book in the library that could distract her from her thoughts.
Her eyes scanned across the spines of the books as she wound herself through the aisles. For the first time in her life, not a single book looked appealing – a fact that she refused to acknowledge had little to do with the books themselves. Determined, she turned around a corner to try her luck in the next aisle when, out of nowhere, a looming figure suddenly appeared in front of her, blocking her path. She jumped, but her mind didn't get a chance to catch up with her body's reaction because, before she had time to think, the person spoke.
"I know what you're doing," the voice boomed loudly.
Rory sighed. "What are you talking about, Paris?"
"This. I know what this is," she said, thrusting her pen in Rory's direction.
Still not quite recovered from her shock, Rory looked at her in confusion. "It's a pen."
"Don't patronize me," Paris warned, frustrated. "You know that's not what I meant."
Rory shifted her bag to her other shoulder. "Actually, I don't."
"Oh, great, the naïve, innocent act. It's one of my favorites. Acting like you're some saintly country bumpkin," Paris accused. "I can almost see the halo-like glow forming over your head, and the little angels with harps dancing around your shoulders." She paused. "Now that I think about it, that's pretty much your only act. And yet you think you can intimidate me?"
"What?" Rory asked.
"This," Paris explained, gesturing wildly at their surroundings. "You," she continued, jabbing her pen menacingly towards Rory's arm.
Rory moved her arm away just in time. "Hey," she protested. "I was just looking for a book."
"In the Chilton library? Before school? You didn't come here for a book. I saw you. You were studying."
"So?"
"So suddenly you study here? This is where I study. It's quiet, and it's peaceful. There's no Madeline and Louise yammering on and on about what color barrette they should wear. Gold? Silver? Is there really a difference? I get a lot of work done here. But now here you come, disturbing the peace."
"It's a big library, Paris, and I happen to be very quiet."
"Oh, silly me, I must have imagined the sound of your textbook slamming earlier."
"That was an accident."
"And again, we have the harp-playing angels."
"You're acting like I never study here," Rory said. "I study here all the time."
"Correction. You study here during school hours. The only time you ever come here before or after school is to do research or meet with a group. But now, suddenly, you're here all the time."
"I'm not here all the time," Rory argued.
"You were here Thursday morning, Thursday evening, and now here you are again," Paris sneered. "Looks like a routine to me."
"We've had a lot of work lately."
"That's your defense? We're in the post-final, pre-midterm slump. That idiot boyfriend of yours could handle the amount of work we have."
"Dean isn't an idiot," Rory defended.
"And I saw what you were reading. We don't need to read that chapter for weeks."
"This is crazy, Paris. I thought we were friends. I'm pretty sure this library is big enough for the both of us."
"So, that's it? You're going to study here all the time now?" Paris asked, her voice carrying a tinge of worry.
"Not necessarily," Rory said, shifting under the weight of her backpack. "I just…"
"Just what?"
"Nevermind. If you don't want me to study here, I won't. It's obviously not as important to me as it is to you."
Paris watched her intently for a moment. "Really?"
"Really. Whatever," Rory dismissed apathetically. "I'll leave right now." She turned to head towards the door.
"Rory," Paris said, stopping her.
Rory turned around but didn't say anything.
Paris hesitated briefly before speaking. "We're friends?"
Rory considered the question. "In your saner moments, yeah, I think we might border on some sort of friend-ish relationship."
"Oh. No one told me," Paris replied, sounding a little confused.
Rory smiled. "There aren't usually memos."
"So we're friends," Paris repeated, accepting it as fact. She glanced at Rory and then at the door. "Wait, this is a trick, isn't it?"
"A trick?"
"So I'll let you study here."
Rory fought off a smile. "I'll see you in class, Paris," she said, heading towards the door.
"What does that mean? Is that some sort of code? Hey, I didn't agree to a secret friend language!" Paris called after her. When Rory kept walking, she raised her voice even more. "Friends or not, I better not see you here after school!"
Rory grinned and headed out the door. She had walked about halfway to the classroom before her earlier thoughts returned. The thoughts she'd been desperately avoiding. Jess. As she sat down in the empty classroom, she silently thanked Paris. Their brief five-minute conversation had been the longest she'd been able to distract herself in two days.
***
"Do I look fat today?" Lorelai asked Luke's back without prelude as she plopped onto a stool at the counter.
Luke paused in mid-movement, knowing the inherent dangers attached to that question. With his back still turned away from her, he pretended like he hadn't heard. "What?"
"Do I look fat today?" she repeated, glancing down at herself.
"Are you serious?" he stalled. He knew how this worked. If he said, 'no, you don't look fat today,' that meant that she might occasionally look fat just not on that particular day. If he said 'yes,' he might as well sign his death warrant.
"Yeah, I'm serious," Lorelai replied, waiting for his answer.
Luke paused, then immediately decided on the truth. He didn't even need to look at her to know what that truth was. He resumed wiping out the glass he held in his hand as he spoke. "Even if you were wearing a potato sack filled with actual potatoes, it would still be impossible for you to look fat."
In the ensuing silence, Luke began to question his answer. But then he heard her whispered "Wow." Not quite sure what that meant, he turned to look at her. She met his eyes. "Good answer," she quietly commended.
He shrugged.
"You didn't even look. Guys never pick up on that. If they look, it means there's the possibility that you could look fat, under the right circumstances. Guys always look."
Luke set the glass on the counter. "I didn't need to look."
"Okay," Lorelai accepted with a nod. She glanced down at her waist. "But now that you are looking, I look fat, right?"
Luke met her eyes. "No."
"I feel fat."
"Can't help you there."
"You feed me. It's your fault."
"Do you want a table?" he asked, avoiding her statement.
"See, a table. So you can feed me and make me fat."
He folded his arms over his chest. "Fine, I'll stop feeding you."
"Aw," Lorelai protested. "You'd let me starve?"
"Don't I get any points for the potato sack thing?"
Lorelai hesitated, eyeing him suspiciously. "All right, I'll let it go."
"I appreciate it," Luke replied half-heartedly. "Now go pick a table."
"I think I'll sit here," Lorelai answered, settling in. "I hear sitting at the counter helps with weight loss."
Luke gave her a skeptical look. "Where'd you hear that?"
She smirked. "Voices in my head."
"Right. Should've guessed. Coffee?"
"You always ask, as though you think someday the answer might be different."
"Covering my bases in case a different voice takes over."
"You actually think I'd allow the presence of coffee-hating voices? Voices… that hate coffee… lurking in my head?" she asked, pointing at her temple. "Not gonna happen, buddy. That'd be like allowing Pat Buchanan into a Democratic convention. Or… or Wil Wheaton into the Academy Awards. It's just wrong."
"Wesley?"
"Ha!" Lorelai declared, pointing her finger at him. "I knew you were a Trekkie."
"I'm getting your coffee now," Luke said, turning to grab the pot.
Lorelai grinned proudly but dropped the issue. "So, are you ready for tonight?"
Luke placed a mug in front of her and filled it with coffee. "Tonight?" he asked.
"Funny! As if you could forget! I bet it's written on your calendar… and in your planner… and on a Post-It note on your mirror… and…"
Luke looked at her blankly.
"Do not tell me you forgot."
"Forgot what?"
Lorelai looked at him closely, trying to gauge his sincerity. Disappointment started to set in, as she began to accept that he really might've forgotten.
Right as he saw her face begin to fall, Luke spoke. "Oh! You mean the cooking lessons?"
Relief washed over Lorelai's face. "That was so mean."
"I wouldn't forget," Luke assured her.
"How should I know that?"
"Have I ever forgotten anything?"
"Su-ure," Lorelai stammered. "There was the… um… the… or the… okay, fine. You win. God, I hate it when you win. Today is really starting to suck."
Luke smiled and grabbed a towel off the counter. "When do you want me there?"
"6?"
"That early?" Luke asked, confused.
"Well, it'll take awhile to make it, and most normal people eat in the evening hours."
"What about your dinner?"
Lorelai looked at him in confusion. "I thought the plan was to make it."
"No, dinner with your parents," Luke clarified. "Hey!" he exclaimed suddenly. "Are you using me to get out of the dinner with your parents?"
Lorelai shook her head. "No. It's a great idea, but no. They're out of town."
"Oh."
"You thought I had dinner with my parents tonight? Why would I want to make dinner if I was already having dinner? Didn't that seem a little weird to you?"
"You, eating two dinners. Right, I must be insane," Luke quipped.
"Fine. It's not so farfetched. But I couldn't even try to tackle that feat without Rory. She'd never forgive me."
Luke glanced at the empty stool beside Lorelai. "Where is Rory?"
Lorelai's mouth fell open in mock astonishment. "You just noticed Rory isn't here?"
"I didn't say that."
"I can't believe you, Luke!" Lorelai teased. "My Rory, and you don't even notice she's gone."
"Well," he began, searching for an explanation. "She's small… and quiet."
"I'm so telling Rory about this."
"She's tiny!" he exclaimed.
"She'll appreciate that."
"Don't tell her," Luke ordered.
"Oh, I'm telling," Lorelai disagreed. She paused. "Unless…"
Luke sighed. "If anyone asks, you won every time."
Lorelai grinned triumphantly. "And the day no longer sucks."
"Great," Luke said grumpily.
"Rory's at school. Apparently, Chilton is not aware of the study that says children should only be given two hours of homework a night per every year they're in school."
Luke paused. "Rory has 22 hours of homework a night?"
"Wait, that's not right," Lorelai frowned. "Maybe it's a half hour per year?"
"That's 5 ½ hours of homework," Luke stated. "What kind of study is this?"
"Wait, um… aw, shoot. Forget it. Chilton is run by crazy people. They give her too much homework. Did you know she almost missed Movie in the Square Night?"
"Didn't you pick 'The Yearling'?" Luke asked.
"Yes."
"Didn't she see it last year?"
"Yes."
"And the year before that?"
"Yes."
"And the year before…"
"That is not the point," Lorelai interrupted. "Chilton is working her too hard."
"She's smart. She'll catch up," Luke assured her.
"I know. It'd just be nice to see her occasionally." Lorelai sighed and slumped in her seat. She glanced down at her stomach and began smoothing down her shirt. "Are you sure I don't look fat?"
"Lemon poppy-seed muffin minus the poppy-seeds, please," a voice interrupted.
Luke looked at the customer. "Kirk!" he exclaimed, grateful for the interruption. "Great to see you."
Kirk backed away slightly. "You too, Luke," he said, looking at him like he had multiple heads.
Luke walked over to get his muffin. Lorelai frowned and glanced from her stomach to Kirk. "Oh my god, Kirk! What happened?" she asked, seeing the cast that covered his entire arm and hand.
"I got hit by a dog."
"A dog?" Lorelai repeated, her eyes wide.
"Or maybe a cat. Might have been a possum," he clarified. "It was small and furry, and it came out of nowhere."
"It just ran into you while you were walking?"
"Roller-skating actually."
"That's awful," Lorelai said, looking sympathetically at his cast.
"I know. I think they might be gone permanently."
Lorelai gasped. "Your fingers?"
"No, my roller-skates. Mother took them away."
Lorelai hesitated, not sure what to say to that. "Oh. Well…"
Kirk held up his good hand to stop her. "Please. No condolences. I get weepy." Luke approached and handed him his muffin. Kirk took it in his good hand while he attempted to wipe his cast across his misty eyes with the other. The size of his hand was now considerably larger, due to the bulky cast, so he misestimated and accidentally smacked himself in the cheek. "Ow! STUPID CAST!" he shouted. Without another word, he left.
Bewildered, Luke and Lorelai watched him go then turned to each other. "Something furry hit him," Lorelai stated by way of explanation.
"I heard."
They both processed the fact for a moment. Then, after a beat, Lorelai pushed Kirk's situation aside and focused in on Luke. "So back to that fat question…"
***
Lane glanced at the clock and, upon seeing that she still had about five minutes before class, turned back to her book and continued her last-minute cram session. The dates were always what killed her. Was it really important to know that such-and-such happened in 1978 as opposed to 1979? Or in March as opposed to May? And why exactly did the calendar inventors have to use the same letters for multiple months? Like it wasn't hard enough to remember historical facts without having to worry about whether you were supposed to be thinking January or June or July. Or April versus August, for that matter. There are twenty-six letters in the English alphabet; why give special treatment to a few? Why not go call May something like Kay instead? Or Lanuary instead of January? Was it really so difficult?
Lane massaged her forehead in frustration and attempted to focus on the chapter summary. She was just about to flip to the next summary when she heard the desk behind her squeak as someone sat down. She paused and waited. A second later, she distinctly heard movement. She quickly glanced around at the other desks to make sure she was in the right room. Sure enough, her History classmates were seated around her, their heads buried in their books. Stunned, she blinked her eyes then she slowly shifted around in her seat to look at the student behind her. She blinked again. He was slouched down in his seat, looking down at his pencil as he tapped it gently on the desk.
"Jess?"
He looked up, meeting her eyes. "Lane," he stated simply, still tapping the pencil.
"What are you doing here?"
"This is school," he answered.
"I know this is school," Lane replied slowly. "Are you sure you do?"
"I just said so, didn't I?"
"What are you doing here?" Lane repeated.
"Generally, people my age go to school during the day," Jess explained.
"I know that," Lane repeated. "But generally those people don't include you."
He shrugged and turned his attention back to his pencil.
Lane looked bewildered. "Do you realize that you're not only in school," she continued, glancing at the clock. "But you're early."
"Actually, I'm right on time," Jess corrected.
"You know what time class starts?"
"I took a guess."
"Is this a joke?" Lane asked, looking around for a camera.
Jess smirked.
Lane leapt forward across his desk and grabbed his pencil from his hand, so she could get his full attention. "If this is a joke, I'm going to maim you with this pencil," she said, raising it threateningly. "I don't need this kind of distraction before a test."
"They have pills for that, you know," Jess said, eyeing her sharpened, Number Two lethal weapon.
"This isn't funny," Lane said seriously.
"I'm not laughing."
"Is this a dream?" she asked, pinching her outstretched arm.
Jess raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. "You dream about me, huh?"
"Stop it," she ordered, tightening her grip on the pencil. She glanced down at her clothes. "If this were a dream, I'd be in my underwear," she whispered in an attempt to reassure herself.
"You have dreams about me where you're in your underwear? Wow, Lane. I didn't know."
"I do not have dreams about you!" she said loudly, drawing the attention of her nearby classmates. She looked at them. "Jess Mariano is in school," she explained, jabbing her pencil in his direction.
They all shook their heads at her and turned back to their books.
"Why aren't they finding this strange?" she asked, more to herself than to anyone else. "You do realize we have a test, don't you?" she said, turning back to him.
"I heard a rumor."
"You're going to take the test?"
He shrugged. "Maybe. Haven't decided yet."
"You can't take this test."
"Why not?"
"Because I said so."
"I hate to break this to you, Lane, but from what I've heard, Rory is the princess of this town."
"Get out," she ordered, shooing him away.
Jess looked at her like she was crazy. "What?"
"Get out! I can't take this test with you sitting here. Leave. You hate tests."
"You can't kick me out of school."
"Maybe not, but I know how to use this," Lane said, shaking the pencil.
"You're out of your mind."
"Get out!" Lane said, lurching forward.
"Lane," the teacher's voice called. "Is there a problem?"
Lane paused and looked over her shoulder, the pencil still clenched in her fist. "Uh, no. Not really."
"Could you take your seat, so we can start the test?"
Embarrassed, Lane nodded. She sent one last glare in Jess's direction before shifting around to face the front of the classroom. She closed her book and shoved it under her desk, then grabbed a test from her classmate's outstretched hand. As she passed the stack on to the next person, she took a deep breath and tried to focus. She was just about to read the first question when a finger tapped her on the shoulder. "What?" she hissed, darting her eyes over her shoulder.
"I need my pencil," Jess stated, amusement evident in his voice.
Lane shoved it into his hand and turned her full attention to her test.
Pencil in hand, Jess settled back in his seat and flipped his test over. He scanned the page then glanced up at Lane. She shifted uncomfortably. He smirked and shook his head. Then, he turned his attention back to the test and started writing.
***
The bell rang, dismissing Rory's final class for the day. She looked down at her notebook. Her notes were a jumbled, indecipherable mess. A lot of good those were going to do her when it was time to study for the test. Frustrated, she tore the sheets of paper from the notebook and crumpled them into a ball. Madeline looked over at her as she gathered her things. "You can borrow mine," she offered sympathetically, holding out her notebook.
Rory smiled and thanked her, even though it was likely her now-crinkled notes would be more helpful to her than Madeline's. She took the notebook. "I'll give them back on Monday."
Madeline nodded and headed out the door. With a sigh, Rory gently placed the notebook among her things and trailed behind her, dropping her paper ball into the garbage as she walked out the door.
She looked at her watch. Yet again, she had hours to kill. If she was lucky, she could convince her mother to order in Chinese food for dinner, but, even so, as soon as she got home, Lorelai would expect to go to Luke's for coffee. Rory headed down the hall.
She pulled open the large door to the Chilton library and started to walk inside. She was barely a few feet in when she saw Paris storming around, looking at the tables. Rory watched as Paris approached a brunette girl from behind and grabbed her shoulder, turning her around. "You're not Rory Gilmore," she stated irritably.
"No," the girl replied, looking terrified.
"Where is she?" Paris demanded. "Have you seen her?"
"Who?" the girl asked.
"Rory Gilmore, you dimwit. Thin, brown hair, small children and animals at her feet."
"I don't know who you're talking about."
"That's great," Paris snidely remarked. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a coin. "Here's a quarter. Buy a clue." The girl gave her a bewildered look, but Paris was already hurrying over to another table.
Not in the mood for a fight, Rory left and headed outside.
***
It wasn't long before the bus pulled up to its Stars Hollow stop, and Rory was begrudgingly walking down the steps. She paused by the bench and took a look around, evaluating her options. Her eyes fell on the Luke's Diner sign, and her stomach instinctively growled. She hadn't had a cup of Luke's coffee in two days. At that moment, she would've given practically anything for a cup of that coffee. Steeling herself, she started towards the diner. With each step she took, her confidence (and her coffee craving) grew. She was now close enough that she could smell the delicious aromas wafting through the air around her. But then she glanced in the window and saw Jess. He was busy taking customers' orders and carrying plates to and from the tables. She hadn't noticed before what an expert he'd become at it. She watched as he effortlessly slid the plates in front of customers, then headed to the counter to get more, stopping along the way to grab a stray empty dish or glass. If she didn't know better, she'd almost think he enjoyed it. He looked capable and in charge. He looked… perfect. She inwardly groaned. There was that stupid word again and, with it, the unwanted rush of memories. She'd come to despise that word. To her, it had always represented the burden of others' expectations, but now things were even more confused because, with one impulsive moment, it had also come to symbolize her wants – two things that clearly did not mesh with one another. She pushed it out of her mind. Unsure where she was going, she headed away from the diner.
***
Rory wandered around the store, glancing at the antiques that surrounded her. Old rocking chairs – polished to look like new. End tables and coffee tables, amazingly devoid of nicks or scratches. An eclectic array of lamps, among them her favorite: an old-fashioned cherry wood base with little, crystalline red beads hanging from the edge of its earth-toned paisley shade. Lorelai had made fun of her when she'd once mentioned it was her favorite, calling it an obscene, psychedelic relic of the 70s home décor scene. But Rory always thought it was quirkily romantic, and she liked how the beads glimmered in the sunlight. She ran her fingers across them, and they chimed out their quiet, familiar song.
"You break it, you buy it," Mama Kim sternly reminded her, pulling Rory from her thoughts. She jerked her hand away and turned to the older woman.
"Sorry, Mrs. Kim. Is Lane here?"
"She's upstairs," Mrs. Kim answered, moving the lamp out of Rory's reach.
Rory thanked her and hurried upstairs.
"Rory," Lane greeted her as she entered the room. "Just the person I wanted to see. Sit."
Rory smiled and dropped her bag onto the floor, then took a seat across from Lane on the bed.
Without giving Rory time to say anything, Lane continued. "You need to talk to Jess."
Rory's heart stopped, and she broke out into a cold sweat. How did Lane know? Had Jess said something? "What?" she managed to choke out.
"He came to school today."
Now Rory was just confused. "And?"
"And I was stressing out about that test that I didn't study for as much as I should have," Lane said quickly. "And his presence took me by surprise a little, and I may have overreacted. But that's not the point. The point is that you need to tell him that if he's going to show up at school and take a test, he needs to warn me first. I need to be prepared. I thought I was in the 'Twilight Zone' or something. I was supposed to be thinking about the Cold War, and instead I was waiting for Jess to rip his mask off and reveal that he was a ghoulish creature of the night."
Rory smiled, relieved. "Did he?"
"Did he what?" Lane asked.
"Rip his mask off to reveal that he was a ghoulish creature of the night?"
"No, not yet," Lane admitted. "But any day now."
"So the test didn't go well?"
"No, the test went great. I was all riled up and annoyed, and the facts just came out of my head in a flood. I didn't even know they were in there, but apparently they were."
"Wait, so Jess helped then?" Rory clarified.
Lane hesitated. "Well, I guess, but that wasn't exactly his intention."
"What was his intention?"
"You think I know? To irritate me, probably."
"You think Jess came to school when there was a test, just to annoy you?"
"Is that so unlikely?"
Rory paused, realization dawning. "Did Jess take the test?"
Lane shrugged. "I guess. Either that or he was doing some serious scribbling. I guess your tutoring made a difference. How did that go, by the way?"
Rory looked down at Lane's bedspread and shifted uncomfortably. "It went fine."
"Okay, good. So you'll talk to him then?"
"Why do you think he'll listen to me?" Rory asked.
"Because he likes you."
Rory's eyes shot up to meet Lane's. "What does that mean?"
Lane gave her a strange look. "I don't know. Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," Rory said quickly. "Bad day."
Lane smiled sympathetically. "Sorry."
Rory nodded and turned her attention back to Lane's bedspread. "I'm glad your test went well."
Lane grinned. "Yeah, me too! So, no dinner with your grandparents tonight, right?"
"Right."
"And your mom is making dinner with Luke."
Rory had completely forgotten. She relaxed a little, knowing she was free of the diner for another night.
"So dinner? You and me?" Lane asked, pulling some take-out menus from under her bed. "Pizza? Pasta? Chinese?"
"Chinese," Rory answered, lying down on Lane's bed.
Lane grabbed the phone. "Perfect."
Hearing the word, Rory grabbed Lane's pillow and dragged it on top of her head.
***
The doorbell rang, and Lorelai immediately rushed down the stairs. When she reached the door, however, she stopped and grinned mischievously. "Who is it?" she sang.
"It's Luke. Let me in."
"Oh, sorry, Luke," Lorelai said apologetically. "I was only expecting Emeril Lagasse tonight. Ooh, or the Naked Chef. Either will do."
"Let me in, Lorelai."
"No can do. Too many cooks spoil the broth."
"These bags are heavy."
"C'mon," Lorelai dismissed. "You're all strong and manly. I'm sure you can handle it."
"Let me in."
"Would you rather be naked or portly? Take your pick."
"This is ridiculous," Luke mumbled, shifting the grocery bags he held in his arms.
"Come on," Lorelai said, rubbing her hands together expectantly. "Naked or portly? Portly or naked?"
Luke sighed. "Portly."
"Aw, bummer. You're such a spoil sport."
"Can I come in now?"
"Ring the doorbell," Lorelai commanded.
"I already did."
"No, Luke rang the doorbell. You are no longer Luke."
"I'm leaving," Luke stated, turning to walk down the stairs.
"Luke," Lorelai called through the door. "Just ring the doorbell, and I'll let you in."
After a pause, the bell chimed. "Who is it?" Lorelai sang.
"Luke," he said gruffly.
"Huh," Lorelai remarked. "I could've sworn you said Luke. Care to try again?"
"Emeril. It's Emeril," Luke said impatiently, jerking the heavy bags into a better position. "Let me in."
"Oh, okay, Emeril," Lorelai replied as she pulled open the door. "I've been expecting you." She swung it open and let Luke in.
"Do you have to be so annoying?" he asked, a Doose's bag in each arm.
"You love it, and you know it," Lorelai teased. "Here." She reached out and took one of the bags. "Come on in."
Luke walked in and shut the door behind him while Lorelai headed towards the kitchen. He followed behind her. She peered into the bag, sifting through its contents. "Where's the frozen pizza?"
"What?" Luke asked.
"The frozen pizza. And the tater tots. I thought we were cooking."
"We are cooking. That isn't real food."
"And this is?" Lorelai asked, holding up a bag of tomatoes.
"Those are tomatoes."
"They are?" Lorelai said, inspecting them. "I didn't know tomatoes were round."
Luke stopped and looked at her. "You're joking, right?"
"Yes, I'm joking," she responded, placing the tomatoes back in the bag.
"Thank God," Luke mumbled. He set his bag on the counter and started pulling things out.
"Thought you had your work cut out for you, huh?"
"I still do."
"Don't worry. There's always frozen pizza."
"Great."
"So, what are we making?" she asked, examining the ingredients. "Looks like a pasta of some sort."
Luke gestured at the food. "I thought we'd start simple."
"Probably a good idea," Lorelai interjected.
"Some spaghetti aglio e olio and some bruschetta."
"Awhatta?"
"Spaghetti with garlic and olive oil and your basic garlic bread," he simplified.
"Why didn't you just say that?"
Luke smiled. "I'm Emeril, remember?"
"Touche."
"Where do you keep your pans?" he asked.
"We have pans?"
Luke sighed. "I didn't bring any."
"Take a look around," Lorelai replied, waving at the cupboards. "Maybe you'll get lucky. Ooh, that reminds me; I almost forgot my surprise," she exclaimed before running out of the kitchen.
Luke shook his head and started going through the cupboards. He found some pans and pulled them out. Moments later, Lorelai appeared with a bag in hand.
"Are you ready?" she asked, reaching into the bag.
Luke looked at her worriedly. "What?"
"Tada!" Lorelai exclaimed, pulling out a white apron and white chef's hat. "If you're gonna be Emeril, you gotta dress the part."
"I'm not wearing those," Luke stated firmly.
"Well then, you should've chosen the Naked Chef earlier. C'mon, it'll be fun." He gave her a look that said pretty much anything but fun. "I have some too," she assured him, holding up her apron and hat. "We'll look stupid together."
"Great. Just what I always wanted."
Lorelai smiled and flipped the apron over her head. Then, she grabbed the hat and pulled it on. "See? It's not so hard. Put it on," she urged, holding out the apron.
Begrudgingly, Luke put it on and tied it behind his back.
"And the hat?" Lorelai added.
"No way."
"Oh, please. You can do without your baseball cap for one night," she said. She walked forward, plucked the cap from his head, and replaced it with the chef's hat. "You look good," she declared, stepping back to admire her handiwork. He really did.
"I knew I'd regret this," Luke mumbled before turning back to the pans.
Lorelai reached behind her back and tried tying the apron strings. After two attempts, she still couldn't get it. "Hey, can you help me with these?" she asked, shuffling over to him with her hands still behind her back. She turned around, holding the strings in place.
Luke glanced at her, then stepped forward and took the strings from her hands, grazing her wrists lightly with his fingertips. Sparks shot up Lorelai's arms, and she quickly pulled them forward and folded them over her chest.
Luke pretended not to notice. But as he carefully tied the strings together, the scent of her shampoo drifted up towards him. She smelled great. He finished tying the apron and stepped back. "There you go."
Lorelai swallowed and turned to face him. "Thanks."
"No problem."
"So, where do we start?" she asked, glancing around.
"Uh," he spoke, trying to gather his thoughts. "Water. We need to boil water."
Lorelai grabbed the large pot and walked over to the sink. "How much?"
"A little over half full."
Lorelai turned on the faucet and started filling the pot. Luke watched her for a moment, then turned and grabbed the cutting board to begin slicing the garlic and tomatoes.
Once the pot was full, Lorelai lugged it to the stove and set it on the largest burner. Then, she leaned down and peered at the dials. Luke glanced over at her. "What are you doing?" he asked, seeing the contemplative look on her face.
"I knew I should have paid more attention in chemistry class," she mumbled. "How many degrees does water boil at?"
"What? Why?"
"I need to know how high to set this," she said, pointing at the dial.
"Please tell me that's a joke."
"No, no joke," Lorelai said honestly. "Was it 350? God, I really can't remember."
Luke put down the knife and walked over to the stove. "That dial," he said, pointing at the one she was looking at, "is for the oven. These are for the stove." He pointed to the other dials.
Lorelai nodded. "Wow! I always wondered what those were for. Okay. So does water boil at," she began, peering at the other dials. "Low, medium, high, or the little dots in between?"
"Put it halfway between medium and high."
Lorelai turned the dial and stepped back. "Done."
Luke shook his head and walked back to the cutting board. "It's gonna be a long night," he muttered.
***
Jess glanced around the diner, then at the clock. They always came in by 6:30. She wasn't coming. That fact shouldn't have surprised him. He knew that Luke was giving Lorelai cooking lessons tonight; of course Rory would want to stick around and watch. But given that she also hadn't come in for dinner on Thursday night or for breakfast or coffee in the past two days, he couldn't help but take it personally. He hadn't seen her at all for two days. He missed her, and it made him mad.
Ever since he was five, he'd made a habit of never missing people. Once he'd trained himself to stop missing his father, he found he didn't have to miss anyone. Not his mother when she couldn't handle things and wouldn't come home some nights. Not his friends who moved (or drifted) away. Not a single person who had walked in and out of his life – and it had happened often. When he'd come to Stars Hollow, he'd convinced himself that he didn't even miss New York. Not for a second. But now he missed her, and with that, the floodgates opened, and he suddenly missed any and everything he'd ever lost. She'd destroyed years of hard work, and the longer she avoided him, the more he resented her for it.
He needed a cigarette. He glanced at the clock. Two and a half more hours, and his shift was over. Not a second longer.
***
Luke finished chopping the vegetables and walked over to add them to the olive oil that Lorelai had begun heating.
"Ooh, ooh! Let me do it!" she begged, giving him her most persuasively pathetic look.
He held the board out to her. She grabbed a handful of garlic and chucked it into the pan. "BAM!"
"You are insane," he declared as little bits of oil splashed against the stovetop.
"You should do it. It's liberating. I have a new understanding of Emeril now." She grabbed a few tomatoes and repeated the move. "BAM!"
Luke shook his head.
"C'mon, Luke. Do it!" she urged, gesturing with her shoulder towards the pan. "You know you want to."
"No, I don't."
"You do. I can see it. You have the apron. The hat, which might I add is much more flattering than the baseball cap. Now you just need the catchphrase. Do it."
Luke looked at her without expression.
"C'mon, Luke, do it! All the cool kids are doing it."
He handed her the board and walked over to prepare the bread.
"You are seriously no fun," she stated before dumping the rest of the vegetables into the oil and mixing them around with a spoon.
"So I've been told."
She looked at him. "Do you even have an impulsive bone in your body?"
"Drain the spaghetti."
She walked over to the pot and lifted it from the stove. "Don't you ever want to do something crazy?"
"Teaching you how to cook isn't crazy?"
"Wild and crazy, Luke? Like swim naked or go skydiving or TP Taylor's house?"
"He has motion detectors."
Lorelai's mouth dropped open, and she peered at him as she dumped the water out of the pot. "How do you know that?"
"It's common knowledge."
"I hope you told Jess."
Luke smiled. "He'll find out eventually."
"Wow! You are evil. A totally predictable evil. But evil nonetheless."
"Thanks, I think."
"So, what now?"
"Now, you sit and let me finish."
Lorelai scooted into a chair. "That's cooking I can deal with. God, it smells good."
"You're not so bad at this," he commented.
"Thanks. Even if you are lying."
"I'm not," Luke said sincerely.
Lorelai grabbed a piece of cooked spaghetti and wound it around her finger. "How's Jess doing these days?"
Luke glanced at her. "He's okay. Why?"
Lorelai shrugged. "I don't know. He spends a lot of time with Rory. I just like to make sure he's not wanted for any felonies."
"Not at the moment."
"He really likes her, doesn't he?"
"Rory? Yeah, she's a good kid."
Lorelai nodded. "That, she is." After a pause, she continued. "Say, you haven't noticed anything, have you?"
"Like what?"
"Oh, I don't know. Between Rory and Jess. A vibe or anything."
Luke paused and considered her question. "They seem to get along."
"But not, like, I don't know… maybe…."
"You think?"
Lorelai waved her hand dismissively. "Nah, I'm just talking out loud."
"I never thought about it. That'd be great though, huh?"
"It would?" Lorelai asked nervously.
"Yeah, she'd be good for him. He could use someone like Rory."
Lorelai bit the piece of spaghetti off from her finger. "Right, sure. But, she has Dean."
"Of course," Luke agreed. "I'm just talking out loud."
"She loves Dean."
Luke looked at her. "I know."
Lorelai nodded, and Luke turned back to the bread. "You make that look easy."
He smiled. "It is."
"Well, sure, for Emeril," Lorelai remarked, trying to put Rory and Jess out of her mind and focus on what a good time she was having. "But what about the Naked Chef?"
***
"Good movie," Lane sighed contently as the closing credits rolled.
Rory peered at the tiny television in front of them. "It's even better when it's full-sized."
"Hey, you try to smuggle a 13-inch in here," Lane reprimanded.
"I know, I know. It was just hard to tell one character from another."
"We take what we can get," Lane answered, shutting off the television and carrying it over to the closet.
Rory looked at her watch. "I should go."
"It's only 9:20," Lane observed after checking the time on her alarm clock.
"I know, but I haven't seen my mom all day."
"Chilton really is working you hard, isn't it?"
Rory walked over to slide on her shoes. "Uh, yeah," she lied. "Work, work, work. It's the Chilton motto."
"Well, hopefully you'll get a break soon."
Rory smiled and pulled her bag onto her shoulders. "I'll call you tomorrow." She headed towards the door.
"I look forward to it. Oh, and don't forget to talk to Jess."
Rory's eyes darted to the ground. "Oh, right."
"But don't mention that he actually helped with the test. My anger isn't quite as convincing then."
"Got it."
"Say hi to your mom for me."
Rory smiled. "Night, Lane."
"Night."
***
Rory pulled open the door and stepped out of the Kim's house into the cool, night air. Everything was still, and the sky was perfectly clear. She stared up at it, picking out her favorite constellations as she walked towards home. When she neared the diner, however, she tore her eyes from the stars and looked towards it. She was surprised to find it dark and deserted. The diner usually closed at nine, but more often than not, Jess or Luke was still inside, cleaning up.
She stepped towards the building and peered in through the window. Sure enough, there was no one there. She looked around at the rest of town. There were a few people, but unlike most towns, Stars Hollow was pretty dead on a Friday night. People who wanted a good time went to a bigger city, and those who didn't stayed inside. But, she decided, tonight was too beautiful to stay inside. Veering away from the path home, Rory headed in a different direction.
It wasn't long before she turned onto the dirt path that led to the bridge. She was sure the stars and moon probably looked gorgeous reflected in the lake. She quickened her pace. As the bridge came into sight, she saw someone already perched on its edge, feet dangling over the water. A small wisp of smoke wound up into the air beside him. She saw the cigarette dangling from one hand and a flash of nondescript white in the other. She started to turn away, knowing exactly who it was. But, for reasons she couldn't explain, she changed her mind. She turned back and walked on quiet feet towards where he sat.
***
Lorelai dried the last of the dishes and placed it back into the cupboard. "Dinner was great," she said, turning to Luke.
"Yeah, it turned out okay," he agreed.
"And I didn't even burn anything down."
"I kept a close eye on you."
She placed her hands on her hips, the towel dangling from between her fingers. "We should do this again sometime. You can teach me how to make a dessert. Rory would love that."
"Sounds good."
Lorelai glanced at the time on the microwave. "She'll probably be home any minute."
"It's late," he said, pulling off his apron.
"I know. Time really flew, didn't it?"
"I should get going," he remarked. "Oh, here." Abruptly, he walked towards her and wrapped his hands around and behind her waist, his face not more than a foot from hers.
She jerked a little in surprise but didn't move. His fingers expertly loosened the knot and let the apron strings fall from her waist.
His eyes met hers, holding her gaze. Then, almost imperceptibly, they flickered to her lips and back. She held her breath, and he leaned a little closer. Distracted, she let the towel slip from her grasp, and it landed gracefully across his foot, pulling them both back to reality. He backed away and knelt to pick it up. He took a deep breath before rising and holding it out to her. She smiled at him and took it. "Thanks."
He pulled the hat from his head. "You're welcome."
"Oh, your cap. Here." She hurried over and grabbed it from its place on the fridge. He took it and pulled it on. "Thanks for the lesson."
"I'll see you tomorrow."
She grinned. "Have the coffee ready."
"Night, Lorelai."
"Good-night, Luke," she replied as he walked out the door.
***
Her feet echoed against the wooden slats of the bridge, but Jess didn't look up. Instead, he brought the cigarette to his lips and breathed deeply. When Rory reached him, she paused, her eyes falling on the white object he'd held in his hand earlier. Now resting precariously on his leg was the origami rabbit.
She took a step forward and sat down beside him. He breathed out the smoke. The gray wisps rose up into the air and dissipated.
"Hi," she said softly. She knew it sounded ridiculous, but it's all she could come up with at the moment.
"Hey," he replied. He kept his eyes trained on the expanse of water before them.
As she had expected, the lake was a mirror reflection of the moon and stars above. She spotted the Big Dipper shimmering across the surface.
"Lane wanted me to tell you that you should warn her before you come to school next time," Rory stated. She meant for it to sound like a joke, but somehow its humor was lost as the words escaped her lips.
"Tell Lane the world doesn't revolve around her," Jess coldly replied, flicking an ash into the water.
Rory watched as the spark dropped through the air and sizzled upon contact with the water's surface. She turned her eyes to Jess. "Are you mad at me?"
Jess met her gaze. "The world doesn't revolve around you either."
His icy tone stabbed her in the chest, and she looked away. "I know that," she weakly replied.
"Do you?" he asked, his eyes still on her.
She didn't answer. She didn't know what to say. He turned back to the water and lifted the cigarette to his mouth again.
"I'm sorry."
"For what?" he asked, letting the smoke escape prematurely.
"For avoiding you," she said bluntly.
Jess shrugged.
"I just didn't know what to do."
"Do you know now?" he asked.
"No," she said honestly.
He nodded. Neither of them said anything for what seemed like forever. Jess reached the end of his cigarette and dropped the butt into the water.
"Where did you learn how to do that?" Rory asked.
"Do what?"
"Origami," Rory replied, fixing her eyes on the rabbit.
Jess looked at it too. "I can only make the rabbit."
"That was lucky," Rory teased. When Jess didn't respond, she asked again, "So where'd you learn how to make it?"
"American Museum of Natural History."
"In New York?"
"Where else?" Jess said, his tone making her feel stupid.
Rory sighed. "Forget I asked."
Jess hated when she did that – made him feel guilty. He didn't need to tell her anything.
"They have this tree," he explained. "Around the holidays, every year for almost thirty years. It's huge – like fourteen feet – decorated entirely with origami figures. I saw it on the news when I was eight, so I decided to go see it in person. It took almost an hour and a subway transfer, but I made it."
"When you were eight?" Rory said in disbelief, clearly impressed.
Jess shrugged. "It wasn't that hard."
"So what happened when you got there? Was it what you expected?"
Jess nodded. "It was exactly what I expected. Gigantic, especially considering how short I was back then. I stared at the different animals for hours, just walking around the tree and memorizing them like an idiot. Then, they had this class where they were teaching kids how to make some of them. You had to have a parent with you, but I snuck in. I only made it through the rabbit before they found out and made me leave."
"The rabbit is beautiful."
"It's stupid," Jess disagreed.
"You kissed me," Rory said suddenly, the words just tumbling out.
Jess glanced at her. "You kissed me back."
"I probably shouldn't have," she admitted.
"Probably?"
"Definitely," Rory amended. "I definitely shouldn't have. I love Dean."
He turned away. "So you keep saying."
"I do," she insisted, her eyes fixed downward. "I love Dean."
"As long as you're sure."
"I am."
There was a long silence. By the time Jess spoke, it almost startled Rory. "Do me a favor," he began, his words echoing into the night.
She turned her eyes to meet his.
"Next time I want to kiss you, slap me or push me away or something. At least that would make some sense."
"At the moment, I doubt you'll ever want to kiss me again," Rory assured him.
Jess smirked knowingly, his eyes drifting to her lips. "I want to kiss you right now."
Rory shifted uncomfortably and let her eyes fall to her lap. "Oh."
When she didn't say anything else, Jess sighed and moved to stand up. "Don't worry," he said with visible irritation. "I'm sure it'll pass." As he rose to his feet, the rabbit slid off his lap and tumbled into the water.
Rory glanced up at him, but he was already walking across the bridge. Her eyes followed him until he was no longer visible. Then, she turned back to the water and watched the saturated rabbit float awkwardly across its surface.
