Defending Bjork
Chapter 17: Tag! You're It!
Disclaimer: The characters and general plotlines belong to The WB, Amy Sherman-Palladino, and ASP's minions. Also, I referenced MIT's Media Lab inventions with the utmost respect and intended no copyright or patent infringement.
A/N: This chapter is dedicated to my mom who, upon seeing a special on TechTV, called me and said, "You HAVE to use this for your story!" Thanks, Mom! Thanks also to Ali and Marissa for their help, to the s-h.org gang, and to my little sister. Last but definitely not least, my debt of gratitude to all of you who helped me to reach 400 reviews for this story. It boggles my mind, and I only hope that I can continue to entertain you for 400 more! ~Becka
She hated when he did this.
It would be one thing to ignore her or be rude to her. That, she could handle. But this constant removed politeness was driving her insane. Mostly because she knew it was calculated. He was a lot of things, but polite wasn't one of them. Her eyes followed him as he moved back to the counter to fill their order.
She was being the big person here. The day after their conversation at the bridge, she'd come to the diner with her mother. She hadn't even put up a fight. She didn't want to ignore him. She just wanted things to be normal again. She'd said hi, like she always did. She'd asked him what he was reading, like she always did. She'd acted normal. And, sure, he'd answered her questions. He'd taken her order. He'd done his job… but nothing more. When she'd come in for breakfast on Sunday, he'd seemed even more indifferent. And now, Monday morning, he might as well have been a stranger on the street.
Why couldn't he just get mad? Be a jerk? At least then she'd know he cared. Then again, maybe he didn't. Maybe he could turn his feelings on and off. Could she blame him?
She found herself watching his face closely whenever she could get a glimpse, hoping for something. A twitch. A tremble. A sign. He gave her nothing.
"…and then we're going to spray-paint ourselves and run buck-naked through the Inn," Lorelai finished, looking at Rory for a response.
Nothing.
"Rory?"
She paused, waiting.
"Rory!"
Rory snapped out of her daze and darted her eyes to her mother. "What?"
"Did you hear what I said?"
"I heard you," Rory stated. "Spray-paint. Buck-naked running." Realizing what she'd just said, she paused, confused. "That's what you're doing today?"
"No, that was a test, which you obviously failed."
Rory frowned. "Sorry."
"What's going on?"
"Nothing. I promise I'll listen this time," she said, focusing her full attention on her mother.
"Eh. It's no fun telling a story twice."
"But I want to hear it."
"No, no, it's fine," Lorelai said stubbornly.
Luke paused at their table as he walked by. He looked at Rory. "They're having a conference at the Inn this afternoon to test some crazy new name-tag technology. That's all you missed."
Rory smiled triumphantly. "Thank you, Luke." He nodded and walked away. "So, name-tag technology? That sounds interesting."
"Apparently, only when Luke says it."
"That's not true."
"Well, I tell you, and you're an extra in Awakenings. Luke tells you, and you snap to attention."
"I just…" Rory began, trying to explain, "…have a lot on my mind."
"Do you wanna talk about it?" Lorelai asked, concerned.
Rory fixed her eyes on a salt shaker. "Not really."
"You sure?"
Rory looked up again. "I'd rather hear your story."
"Well, I don't want you to fall asleep," Lorelai joked. "I'll just call Luke over. I hear he tells it better."
Rory smiled. "Your point has been made. Repeatedly."
"Good. So, you really want to hear it?"
"I really want to hear it."
"Okay, well, since you asked so nicely," Lorelai teased. Playing along, Rory rolled her eyes, and Lorelai launched back into her story.
Rory listened intently as her mother talked about the conference, but after a few minutes, the faint sound of Jess's voice distracted her. She glanced over at the counter and saw him take two plates from Luke's hands and round the counter in the direction of their table.
She watched him openly as he drew nearer. He didn't seem to notice. She gave him a small smile. He didn't acknowledge it.
Lorelai had been in the middle of a sentence when she abruptly realized that Rory was no longer paying attention, again. She looked up and immediately saw why. She frowned.
Jess set the plates in front of them. "Anything else?" he asked blankly, looking at nothing in particular.
Rory dropped her eyes to the table. Lorelai glanced at her daughter, then back at Jess. "We're fine," she said harshly.
Without another word, Jess walked back to the counter.
Lorelai turned her eyes to her daughter, who was now using her fork to push her food around her plate. She waited for Rory to tell her to continue her story, but she never did.
They ate in silence.
***
"Rory and I are drifting apart," Lorelai said sadly as she helped Sookie lift the bucket into place.
"What?" Sookie exclaimed.
"We are. We're drifting apart."
"That's crazy."
"She's keeping things from me."
"All teenagers do that."
Lorelai shook her head. "Not Rory."
Sookie gave her friend a sympathetic smile. "It was bound to happen."
"She doesn't need to keep secrets. She can tell me anything."
"And she knows that," Sookie assured her. "But eventually, everybody wants a secret."
"Not Rory."
"Even Rory," Sookie disagreed. "Don't you remember the first time you kept something from your mother?"
"Uh, yeah, I think it was about two seconds after birth."
Sookie giggled. "Okay, not the best example. How about the first time you kept something from your best friend?"
Lorelai smiled. "Christopher. Right after I met Christopher."
Sookie nodded. "Mine was Terrence Lester."
"His name was Terrence Lester?" Lorelai teased.
"Don't," Sookie exclaimed, lightly hitting Lorelai's arm. "He was beautiful."
"He'd have to be with a name like that."
"You're awful," Sookie chided. "I'm just saying that Christopher and Terrence were our secrets. Sometimes feelings are so special and beautiful and strange that we just aren't ready to share them yet. We need time alone with them first."
"This thing with Rory is different."
"Maybe it is. Be patient; she'll tell you eventually."
Lorelai sighed. "How can you know that?"
"Because I know you, and I know Rory."
"I don't want to lose her, Sookie."
Sookie reached out and squeezed her hand. "You won't," she promised. "Stop worrying!"
Lorelai forced a smile and looked around the room. "Is it just me, or is this the most bizarre conference ever?" she asked, eyeing the buckets spread around the perimeter.
Sookie shook her head. "It's not just you. Ooh, hey, speaking of bizarre, how did the cooking lesson go?" she asked, looking at Lorelai expectantly.
"It was good. I didn't burn anything down."
"And Luke?"
"I didn't burn him down either."
"You know that's not what I meant," Sookie said, grinning. "Was he a good cook? A good teacher? Spill!"
Lorelai hesitated. "I don't know; Luke was… Luke."
"Oh, shoot!" Sookie exclaimed, noticing the clock.
"What?"
"It's been ten minutes. I have to run and check on lunch. But be prepared to tell me what you two cooked when I get back," she warned before darting towards the kitchen.
Lorelai smiled after her, then wandered around the room, double-checking that everything was in place. After a few moments, she paused, thinking back on the cooking lessons with Luke. She was replaying the night in her head when a sudden, uncomfortable realization hit her, followed by a wave of panic. As much as she wanted to deny it, Rory wasn't the only one keeping secrets.
***
School was boring. New York, Stars Hollow; it didn't matter which city or even which state you were in. It was still boring. Jess wasn't even sure why he was there. After Rory and Lorelai left, he just sort of wandered out of the diner, and eventually he ended up in the school.
After getting the evil eye from Lane, he slumped into his seat and tried not to listen to a word the teacher was saying. For the most part, he succeeded. At one point, however, the teacher insisted on calling on him. Hearing his name, he looked up and immediately noticed the weird, hopeful look in her eyes. He hadn't seen a teacher look at him like that since the fourth grade. It freaked him out. So he did the only thing he could think of: he gave a very wrong, very smartass answer. Disappointed, she sighed and called on someone else. He pulled a book out of his back pocket and began reading.
He didn't look up again until he sensed movement and realized that the teacher was walking up and down the rows of desks, returning last week's test. He knew that meant class was almost over, so he leaned forward and shoved the book back into his pocket. By the time he settled back again, the teacher was heading down his aisle. Eventually, she reached Lane's desk, then she continued forward and placed his test in front of him, upside down. He didn't touch it. Lane, however, frantically flipped hers over and scanned the page. With a squeal, she whirled around in her seat to face Jess. "I worship you!" she exclaimed. Then, realizing what she'd just said, she froze. After a beat, she glanced around and, as feared, saw all of the other students staring at her. "I got an A-," she explained quickly before turning forward and gathering up her things. The other students stared at her for another second then went back to what they were doing. As soon as the bell rang, Lane grabbed her bag and headed for the door, mumbling "I've gotta stop doing that" on the way out.
Amused, Jess shook his head and looked back down at his test. Hesitantly, he flipped it over and scanned the first page. Without expression, he folded it in half, shoved it in his pocket, and stood to go. As he passed the teacher's desk, however, she called his name. He paused.
"I'd like to speak with you for a moment."
He glanced at her and saw that look again. Averting his eyes, he walked out the door.
***
A middle-aged man walked to the front of the room and stepped behind the podium. "Hello everyone, and welcome to the first ever 'Tag! You're It!' Conference, or as I like to call it 'our little lab experiment'."
The crowd laughed.
"As you know, this conference is our attempt to mix the worlds of dating and innovative technology in new and hopefully beneficial ways. Before we get started, let's take a moment to thank the Independence Inn for the use of their beautiful property and for all of their hard work to make this conference a success."
The crowd looked in the direction of Lorelai, Sookie, and Michel and applauded enthusiastically.
After it died down, the man continued. "Now, let's begin. My name is Stephen Anderson, and I'm a member of the MIT Media Lab team. We're the ones responsible for the strange nametags you were all given on the way in." He reached into the podium shelf and pulled out a nametag, holding it up for the crowd to see. "We call these odd, little things 'Thinking Tags.' This sort of tag is a kind of thin-layer social technology, which is intended to provide just enough information to facilitate or improve the interaction between two people. In other words, it acts as a kind of bridge between people, allowing them to see almost immediately how much they might or might not have in common with one another. The tags are a work-in-progress, which is why we're eager to see how they behave in a dating environment. Up until now, we tested them only in academic settings where the stakes were relatively low. But hopefully, today, we'll help some of you make love connections."
The crowd buzzed with approval.
"Okay, enough history, let me explain how these work, so you can all get started. As I said, each of you should have already received a nametag and an elastic bungee cord to secure it around your neck. Right now, these nametags only display your names. You are responsible for activating the other necessary information. If you look around the room, you'll notice that five kiosks have been set up. Each kiosk corresponds to a question that was designed with you in mind.
"When you get to the kiosk, you'll find the question on a large poster-board, along with three potential answers," he explained, gesturing to the sample kiosk that had been set up next to the podium. "Each answer has a corresponding, color-coded bucket. You simply decide on the answer that most suits you and dip your nametag into the bucket. A device at the bottom of the bucket will program your answer into your tag. You should hear a small beep when your tag is successfully programmed," he concluded, dipping his own tag into the bucket. There was a small beep. "You can then move on to another kiosk until all five of your answers have been entered into your tag.
"As you can see, each tag has five little lights aligned horizontally along the top. These lights display your compatibility. When you encounter another person, your tags will communicate with one another and then flash a pattern of lights. For example, if two of the lights flash, you have two answers in common. You won't know which answers, however; the responsibility lies on you to find out. That's it; it's very simple. All we expect is that you activate your answers, mingle, and enjoy the afternoon. There will be a buffet lunch around noon and an activity later in the day to demonstrate one of the other benefits of this technology. For now, however, you're free to get to know each other. Any questions?"
Everyone was eager to get started; no one raised a hand.
Stephen smiled. "Off you go!"
The singles quickly dispersed towards the kiosks, and Lorelai turned to Sookie and Michel. "They actually think this is gonna work?"
"Oh, I think it's a great idea," Sookie cooed.
Michel rolled his eyes. "It is silly. I am going back to my desk."
"Though it pains me to say it, I agree with Michel," Lorelai stated after he was gone.
"C'mon, honey. It seems like a fun way to get conversation started."
"Unless none of the lights flash."
Sookie hesitated. "Well, there is that."
"Ms. Saint James, Ms. Gilmore," Stephen greeted as he approached them. "Everything looks wonderful."
Lorelai smiled. "That's what we like to hear."
He returned the smile. "However, your work here isn't done."
"Oh," Sookie chimed in. "Lunch is under control. You have nothing to worry about."
Stephen nodded. "Of that, I'm sure, which is why these are for you," he stated, holding out two nametags.
Both women looked puzzled.
"We were hoping you two would participate," he explained. "We'd love the extra feedback."
"Oh, it's okay," Lorelai demurred, shaking her head. "We need to focus on keeping things running smoothly."
Stephen looked around the room. "I don't foresee any problems."
"Even so…" Lorelai began.
He glanced at their hands. "I don't see any rings."
Lorelai looked down at her hand and scrunched her brow in frustration.
"Are you sure you don't wanna give it a try?" he pressed.
"I don't really think it's appropri—"
"Aw, go ahead!" Sookie interrupted. "Give it a go!"
Lorelai glared at her.
Stephen grinned and waved the tags in the air. "I just happen to have these two extra nametags, literally with your names on them."
"I bet you've been waiting years to say that," Lorelai joked nervously.
He held out the nametags. Sookie took hers and motioned in the direction of the kiosks. "C'mon."
Lorelai sighed and reached for her tag. Mission accomplished, Stephen nodded and headed out to the crowd. With a weak, forced smile, Lorelai trudged behind Sookie towards the kiosks.
***
"I can't believe I'm doing this," Lorelai complained as they stopped in front of the first kiosk.
Sookie glanced at her. "I'm surprised at you. You're usually the first person to snatch up an opportunity."
Lorelai frowned and lifted her nametag. "We're putting our love lives in the hands of computer nerds."
"Sshhh," Sookie reprimanded. "They're everywhere."
"Exactly! It's like Kirk has become our Dr. Ruth."
"You're being silly."
"Says the woman with the Jackson."
Sookie grinned.
"You're cheating, you know."
"Oh, hush," Sookie dismissed. "I'm doing it for the client."
Lorelai raised an eyebrow.
Sookie pointed at the question. "We're holding up the line."
"Fine," Lorelai moped. She glanced at the question and read it aloud. "When looking for a potential mate, the most important quality is…. Wow! Doesn't get more generic than that!"
"Would you stop? Choose an answer. A) Intelligence. B) Sense of humor. C) Looks." Sookie immediately dipped her tag into "sense of humor."
Lorelai, meanwhile, shuffled around her and dunked her tag into a different bucket.
Sookie glanced at her choice. "What are you doing? That isn't important to you!"
"It is now," Lorelai replied, grinning mischievously.
"Lorelai!"
"Hey, would you sleep with someone who looked like Andy Rooney?"
"Well, no," Sookie admitted.
"All right then. Next question."
Lorelai hurried to the next kiosk.
"Oh, now she's excited," Sookie mumbled, trailing after her.
***
"When you were a child, you were most likely to…" Sookie read after they stopped at the third kiosk.
Lorelai read over the answers then turned to Sookie. "Do you see 'get pregnant'? 'Cuz I don't think it's up there."
Sookie bumped her with her shoulder. "You're impossible."
"Hey, for some of us that was a crucial childhood experience."
Sookie giggled. "That answer wouldn't really work for half of the people here."
"Okay, fine. How about 'when you were a child, you were most likely to get pregnant or impregnate'?"
"Pick a different answer."
Lorelai looked at her nametag. "How come there's no write-in vote?"
Shaking her head, Sookie took the tag from Lorelai's hand and dipped it into the 'steal a candy bar' bucket.
"Hey," Lorelai protested.
Sookie handed the tag back. "You know it's true."
"Yes, but I had been lying up 'til now. I can't believe you did that."
"You'll get over it," Sookie teased, dunking her own tag into 'put on plays for your friends and family'.
They walked to the next kiosk.
"Ooh, I like this question," Sookie applauded.
Lorelai read it over. "If you could invent a technology, it would be: A) An earpiece that transmits a chosen person's thoughts to you; B) An oven that magically produces whatever food you desire; C) A machine that allows you to relive the memory of your choice. Definitely B," Lorelai stated, programming her tag.
"No more lessons? Luke will be crushed."
Lorelai shifted uncomfortably, but Sookie didn't notice. "Well, definitely not B. I like C, but with Jackson around, I need A." She dipped her tag.
"Really?" Lorelai asked.
"I know he's always saying one thing when he means another."
Lorelai's eyes twinkled. "No when he really means yes," she teased.
Sookie blushed. "No."
"Does that mean yes?"
"No."
"So, yes."
"Stop," Sookie ordered half-heartedly.
"Which means continue?"
"This could go on all day."
"No," Lorelai nodded.
"Now you're just confusing me."
Lorelai smiled proudly, and they walked to the last kiosk. After reading the answers, they both laughed. Without a thought, Lorelai dipped her tag into a bucket.
Sookie blushed. "I can't believe you."
With an evil grin, Lorelai hurried off in search of victims.
***
After about forty-five minutes of wandering from person to person, Lorelai decided that her initial impression had been right all along. This game was hopeless. There was a reason these men were single. She began to be grateful when none of the lights flashed because it meant the guy would make two-second small talk before scurrying off towards a more promising woman. She glanced around for Sookie but couldn't spot her in the crowd, so she flopped into a nearby armchair. With nothing better to do and only fifteen minutes until lunch, she lifted her tag and examined its intricate wiring.
"Is this seat taken?" a male voice asked, drawing her attention.
'Great, another one,' Lorelai mumbled to herself as she looked up. Well, at least this guy was easy on the eyes: dark, wavy hair; chiseled features; an easy smile; gorgeous eyes. She peered at his nametag. "August McCullough. That's quite a name."
He chuckled. "Gus is fine."
"Okay, Gus, it is," she agreed, gesturing towards the empty chair.
He sat down and looked at her nametag. "Ah, Lorelai Gilmore. Siren of the Rhine?"
She smirked. "Lorelai is fine."
"Lorelai, it is," he agreed, extending his hand towards her. She shook it. "Didn't we applaud you earlier?" he asked, leaning back in his chair.
She shrugged. "It's weird, but I enter a room, and the people just start clapping."
He laughed. "Do they? That must be unnerving."
"You get used to it after a while."
"So do you own The Independence Inn?"
"If by 'own', you mean 'manage.' Then, yes, I own the Inn."
"Well, it's a great place," he said warmly. "That must be a big job."
She smiled and started to say something but was interrupted by the beeping of their tags. She glanced at his. "Well, look at that," she commented.
He glanced down at his tag.
"One lonely little light," she said, shaking her head forlornly. "Guess we don't have a lot in common."
"I could always change my answers," he offered.
Surprised, she met his eyes. There was a mischievous glint in them but also a little hint of seriousness. "Not necessary," she remarked.
He leaned his elbow on the armrest and placed his chin on his palm, searching her face for clues. "I wonder what we have in common," he contemplated.
"Aside from names that can only come from evil parents?"
He smiled. "Aside from that."
"Only one way to find out," she stated, glancing at the kiosks. "Care to answer a few questions?"
He looked at the boards as well then turned back to her. "Hit me."
"Okay, let's see, first question: Intelligence, sense of humor, or looks?"
"Sense of humor," he said simply.
"Why sense of humor?"
He shrugged. "From my experience, a true sense of humor requires intelligence. Plus, laughter is sexy. Pick sense of humor and you get all three."
"Oh, so you're just greedy."
"And proud of it. What did you pick?"
Lorelai smiled. "Looks, naturally."
"Really?" he drawled.
"I was trying to irritate my friend," she admitted.
"How would that irritate your friend?"
"I wasn't taking it seriously."
"Ah," he said, understanding. "So what would you have picked, if you were being truthful?"
She glanced at the choices, then back at him. "Sense of humor. I'm greedy too."
"See, this is good. Now we have two answers in common. Definitely progress. What's next?"
Lorelai looked at the next kiosk. "Your ideal date is: A) Charlie Chaplin marathon at an old-fashioned theater, B) Horseback riding along the beach, C) Latin dancing at a hot new club."
"You first," he prodded.
"C, but again, not entirely true."
"What's the truth?"
"Definitely A."
He nodded in agreement. "The Little Tramp."
"Hey! No need for name-calling," Lorelai chided.
"Oh, I just meant—," he began to explain. Then he saw Lorelai's grin. "Okay, so we both enjoy the master of the silent film. That makes three lights."
"And brings us to the next question."
"When you were a child," Gus read. "You were most likely to: A) Steal a candy bar, B) Read War and Peace, or C) Put on plays for your friends and family."
"Wild child," Lorelai answered. "If there was a rule, I had to break it."
"Bookworm," Gus responded.
"In that case, you'd have a lot in common with my daughter."
"Your daughter?"
"Rory. She's 17. Unfortunately, 'get pregnant' wasn't one of the answers."
Gus laughed. "Should've done a write-in."
"I tried, but apparently, the technology on these things is hack-proof."
He frowned. "It seems we're stuck at three. Shall we try for four?"
"I don't know," Lorelai hedged. "If it's not gonna be a perfect score, we might as well give up."
He smirked at her double entendre. "I disagree. Four out of five is still admirable. We shouldn't quit now."
"No?"
"Eighty-percent compatibility is very impressive."
"Okay, fine, you convinced me. Let's give it a shot," she agreed, turning to the fourth question. "If you could invent a technology, it would be: A) An earpiece that transmits a chosen person's thoughts to you, B) An oven that magically produces whatever food you desire, or C) A machine that allows you to relive a memory of your choice."
"I guess A. You seem like the curious type."
"Ehn! Sorry! More like the clueless in the kitchen type."
"Not domestic?"
"Definitely not. Any chance you aren't either?"
He shook his head regretfully. "I own a restaurant."
"Well, there goes our chance at redeeming ourselves. What'd you pick?"
"C."
"Yeah?" she asked, intrigued. "Which memory would you want to relive?"
"Well, originally I would've picked something from my childhood. You know, back when life was carefree and innocent."
Lorelai smiled. "And now?"
"The past fifteen minutes would be nice."
Lorelai's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Very smooth."
"Too smooth?" he asked.
"Just a little bit," she stated, holding her fingers up to demonstrate. "But nice try."
He smiled. "Okay, well, last question."
Lorelai nodded. "The parent of our lone blinking light."
"All right, complete this sentence. Love is…"
"All we need," Lorelai read, looking at him curiously.
He shook his head.
"Yeah, me neither."
"A four-letter word?" he asked.
"I'm not that cynical yet."
"Something else we have in common," he pointed out. "Okay, moment of truth. Drum roll please."
Lorelai drummed her fingers against the armrest.
"According to us," he began, his eyes on her. "Love is…." He turned to read the board. "The triumphant twang of a bedspring."
Lorelai stopped drumming. "Well," she said, blushing slightly.
He laughed. "That's interesting."
"It was more of a—"
"Joke answer," he finished for her. They both fell silent.
"At least that wasn't all we had in common," he pointed out.
Lorelai nodded. "True… unless you go by the lights."
"An experimental technology; I wouldn't trust it."
"Probably a good idea."
They both paused, searching for something to say. Simultaneously, they opened their mouths to speak.
"Lunch is ready!" Sookie called from across the room, cutting them off. "The buffet is organized into seven sections…"
"Oh, thank God, I'm starving," Lorelai commented, rising from her chair.
They both stood up and turned to each other. Gus held out his hand. "It was nice meeting you, Lorelai Gilmore."
She smiled and shook his hand. "Three out of five isn't bad."
He nodded. "Not at all." After another moment's hesitation, he lifted her hand in his and placed a small kiss on its back. "It was a pleasure."
Lorelai smiled. "Enjoy the rest of the conference," she said, turning to go.
She got about two steps before he called out her name.
She turned back. "Yeah?"
"Are you allowed to eat?"
She grinned. "I don't know. Let me ask the manager." Then, after a brief pause, "She seems okay with it."
"In that case, care to join me?"
Even though she'd suspected he was going to ask, when the time came, something made her hesitate. She searched her mind, trying to come up with an excuse. After a moment, however, she realized she had no reason to say no. She met his eyes. "I'd like that."
He smiled and gestured towards the dining room. "After you."
***
The bus pulled up to its Stars Hollow stop. Rory grabbed her bag from the seat beside her and, shoving in the book she'd been reading, zipped it shut. Then, she rose quickly and hurried to the front of the bus. As soon as she started down the steps, she saw him.
"Hey," he greeted, holding out a take-out cup of coffee.
Reaching the last step, she smiled and walked towards him. "You're back."
"I'm back," Dean affirmed, leaning down to give her a kiss.
After the briefest of moments, she pulled away. She immediately saw disappointment flash across his face, and a knot of guilt formed in the pit of her stomach. Leaning towards him, she placed another quick kiss on his lips. "Welcome back," she said softly.
He grinned and held the cup towards her again. "Coffee?"
"Of course," she said, taking it and immediately raising it to her lips. It burned a familiar path down her throat. She instantly noted that Jess must've made it; his coffee was always a little stronger than Luke's.
"Did you miss me?" Dean asked, drawing her attention.
She shook Jess from her mind. "Of course I did. How was Chicago?"
"Good. Really good."
"Glad to hear it," she stated. They turned and began walking down the street.
"So, what did you do while I was gone?" he asked.
The sip of coffee Rory had just taken felt thick in her mouth, and for a second, she thought she might drown. Swallowing hard, she forced the liquid down her throat. When it hit her stomach, it melded with the knot, doubling its size. "Um," she answered, her voice sounding strange, "nothing really."
"No?"
"Well," she answered hesitantly, searching for a response. "Oh! You missed Movie in the Square Night."
"That's right. What was the movie?"
"The Yearling."
"Suddenly, I'm not really that disappointed."
"Hey, it was very good," Rory defended.
He smiled down at her. "I'm sure it was."
"It was."
"Okay then. Did I miss anything else?"
"Nothing important," she said quickly, shaking her head.
Abruptly, Dean stopped. Confused, Rory looked at him. He grinned and placed his arms around her waist, shifting down a little so he could see her better. "I really missed you," he said sincerely. "You look even better than when I left."
The knot of guilt shot shockwaves through her body. Face flushed, she looked away.
Dean mistook her reaction. "Are you blushing?" he teased.
When she didn't respond, he reached out and lifted her chin until her eyes met his. "You always look beautiful," he whispered. Before she could say anything else, he drew her into another kiss.
When he pulled away, Rory forced a smile. Satisfied with her reaction, Dean moved to the side and took her hand in his. It was then that Rory realized they were standing in front of Luke's. Through the window, her eyes met Jess's, but only for a second. Without so much as a flinch, he turned back to the table in front of him and took the customer's order.
The knot of guilt unwound itself, and all Rory felt was pain.
***
The phone was ringing. Jess ignored it. About twenty minutes ago, he'd announced that he was taking a break; before Luke could disagree, he'd disappeared up the stairs. Book in hand, he was now reclining on his bed. Surprisingly, he found he was able to concentrate, or at least until the damn phone started ringing. He glared at it and turned back to his book. Around the fourth or fifth ring, it stopped, but by then, he'd already succeeded at blocking it out.
He had just turned the page when he heard footsteps thumping up the stairs. A second later, the door flew open. Jess kept reading.
Luke folded his arms over his chest and stared at him. Jess kept reading.
"One chance," Luke said, waving a finger in the air. "That's all you're getting."
Jess turned the page.
"Jess?"
He kept reading.
"Jess."
He moved his eyes to the adjacent page.
"Jess!"
His head shot up. "What?"
"I'm giving you one chance."
"Great," Jess said sarcastically. "Thanks."
"Is there something you want to tell me?"
"Yeah. Flannel's out."
"Jess," Luke warned.
"Don't worry. I hear baseball caps are making a comeback."
"Did you hear the phone ringing?"
Jess glanced around the room. "Was that what that noise was?"
"I had to run across the diner to get it."
"No wonder you're winded," Jess said sympathetically. "Deep breath."
Luke ignored him. "Guess who it was."
"Ed McMahon?" Jess ventured.
"The high school."
"Huh."
"I have to go meet with the principal again."
Jess smirked. "I think he's developing a little crush on you," he teased.
"And your History teacher."
"Gee, Uncle Luke. You get around."
"This is serious, Jess."
"In that case, use protection, big guy. You'll be fine," Jess assured him before turning back to his book.
"What are you talking about?" Luke asked, flabbergasted.
Jess glanced back up, his face serious. "Condoms, sponges, The Pill. Hey, did you know they just came out with a—"
"What did you do, Jess?" Luke asked, his patience hanging on by a very thin thread.
"C'mon, Uncle Luke, you didn't really think I was still a v—"
"Last. Chance."
"Really? 'Cuz I thought I was only getting one chance."
Exasperated, Luke just stared at him. Then, after a moment, he said calmly, "This is your warning, Jess. I hate that place," he stated, gesturing in the general direction of the school. Then, he pointed at Jess. "It's your fault I have to go there. If I get there, and you did something – ANYTHING – illegal, even mildly illegal. No, you know what, even just morally wrong, and you didn't tell me about it first, right now, when you had the chance, then you're out." He waved his hand in the air. "That's it."
Jess turned back to his book.
"You have nothing to say?"
"Try not to have too much fun," Jess said flatly.
Luke looked at him and sighed. "Watch the diner!" he ordered on his way out the door.
Once he was gone, Jess closed his book and glanced at the empty doorway. A small twinge of panic started to rise up, but he quickly shoved it down. Taking a deep breath, he stood up and went downstairs.
***
After saying goodbye to Dean, Rory walked into the house and shut the door. She leaned against it and took a deep breath. Once she knew he was gone, she walked into the living room and glanced out the window. Not a soul in sight. And, now that she thought about it, not a soul upstairs either. She glanced around the room and saw that the answering machine was flashing. Dropping her bag onto the floor, she walked over and pressed the button.
"Hey, babe! It's me. I got held up at the Inn. I don't think I'll make it for dinner, but I'll be there as soon as I can. Eat something. Love you."
The message ended, and Rory reached out to delete it. Then, she walked into the kitchen and pulled open the refrigerator. As expected, it contained nothing edible. She shut it again.
Entering the living room, she went to her bag and unzipped the front pocket. She rifled through it for loose cash. Five dollars. Not enough to get pizza, or anything deliverable, for that matter. But, she reluctantly admitted, it would cover a cheeseburger and some fries. She hesitated. Not amused, her stomach growled at her.
With a deep sigh, she headed back outside.
***
As soon as she entered the diner, her eyes surveyed the room and narrowed in on him. He was talking to Caesar. She looked around for a seat. Thanks to the early dinner rush, all of the tables were full. She had two choices: either ask Kirk if she could join him or sit at the counter. Or she could leave, she reminded herself. Her stomach growled again, and she headed towards the counter.
Sliding onto a stool, she immediately pulled a laminated menu in front of her and started scanning its contents.
Jess finished talking to Caesar and glanced around for new customers. His eyes fell on her. She was hunched over a menu. He couldn't help but chuckle at her sad attempt to avoid conversation. He grabbed the pencil and pad from his pocket and walked towards her. He stopped in front of her but didn't say anything. After a moment, she peered up at him.
"Are you ready to order?" he asked, sounding bored.
"Um, yeah," she nodded, stumbling over her words. She looked back at the menu for reassurance. "Just a cheeseburger."
"Fries?" he asked politely.
She glanced up again, searching his face. "Yeah, fries would be good."
"That all?" he asked, emotionless.
"Can I get a Coke too?"
He nodded. "Sure."
"Thanks."
"You're welcome," he said evenly before heading over to hand off her order.
She wanted to throttle him. She placed the menu back on the rack but attuned her ears to the conversation he was having with Caesar. She couldn't hear anything.
Seconds later, he passed by behind the counter and walked into the storage room. She glanced over her shoulder at the rest of the diner. When she was sure no one was watching, she slipped off the stool and followed after him.
He was crouched in front of a shelf, sifting through some tin cans. Soups or olives or something. She wasn't sure. She walked in and leaned against the wall. "Why are you doing this?" she asked quietly.
She'd been hoping to startle him, but he just continued looking through the cans. "It's my job."
"No, I don't mean that," she clarified, gesturing at what he was doing. "I just meant – well, I meant—"
Finding the can, he stood up and turned to her. "You meant what?"
"This," she said, motioning towards him. "Why are you acting like this?"
"Like what?"
"Polite," she blurted out. "You're never polite."
"Gee, thanks."
Her shoulders collapsed. "No, I didn't mean it like that. I just meant...." She cut herself off.
"Do you even know what you mean?" he asked, curious.
"Yes," Rory said, trying to sound confident.
"Fine, then say it."
"You're being immature," she accused.
"Because I'm polite to you?" Jess asked.
"Yes."
He shook his head. "Do you realize what you're saying?"
"Yes," she said again.
"Fine. What do you want me to do?" he asked sarcastically. "Stick out my tongue and call you names?"
"No," Rory lamely replied.
"Then what? You're gonna have to define maturity for me because I think we read different dictionaries," Jess said, frustrated.
"I don't know," Rory answered, suddenly fighting back tears.
"Maybe you should figure it out."
"I'm trying."
He moved towards the door. "Try harder."
"I just want you to be normal," she said loudly, stopping him. He turned to look at her. "I just want everything to go back to normal."
"And what is that?" he asked angrily.
Rory sighed. "I don't know."
"Again, you're gonna have to give me more to go on. What do you want me to do?"
She wiped a tear away. "I don't know."
"Fine, let me help," he offered, gesturing at her. "How about the normal where everything is perfect? You're with Dean, the control freak, and you're everyone's princess. Perfect Rory with her perfect, chauvinist prince! And, of course, nothing ever goes wrong in this stupid, perfect town, and what's even better? I don't even exist. Gosh, it's like a fairytale."
Another tear rolled down her cheek; she shook her head. "I don't want that."
"Oh, okay," Jess said, gaining momentum. "So I do exist, but I'm stuck behind a stupid window while you make out with Dean in front of my face? Is that your idea of normal?"
Rory stared at the ground and said softly, "No."
"Great, at least now we're getting somewhere. How about the normal where you flip-flop back and forth between the two of us? You like him? No, wait, you like me? Oh, darn, his turn again."
"Stop it," Rory pleaded.
"Or we could just have the normal where I kiss you and you run away?" He took a step towards her. "Wanna give that normal another try?"
Tears streaming down her cheeks, she looked up at him. "Jess."
"What, Rory? What is normal? I'd really like to know."
Frustrated, she brushed the tears away with the back of her hand. "I don't know. I just want us to be friends again," she said, her voice breaking.
They both fell silent. The only sound was Rory's sniffles as she tried to regain her composure.
After a few seconds, Jess let himself look at her. She was staring at the ground. He watched as she ran her fingers across her cheeks, trying to erase the tears that just kept coming, and all he really wanted to do was pull her close. That's all he ever wanted to do. But then his eyes drifted down her arm and fell on the bracelet tied around her wrist, and the anger came back. When he spoke, his tone was even and harsh. "The thing is, Rory," he said calmly, "we can't go back to something that never existed."
He walked out before she could react. He had to.
A minute later, she hurried through the diner and out the door.
***
The sound of knocking woke her. She glanced around the dark room and tried to remember where she was. She swallowed, and her throat felt sore. She rubbed her eyes; they felt puffy. In a rush, her fight with Jess came back to her, and she curled her long limbs into a protective ball.
Another knock.
Irritated, she threw the blankets off and stumbled into the living room.
As soon as she opened the door, two big arms wrapped around her and pulled her into a crushing hug. She blinked. "Luke?"
He pulled away. "How did you do it?"
"Do what?" she asked, very confused.
"He got a B!" Luke exclaimed, looking at her with amazement.
Her groggy mind tried to process the information. "What?"
"Jess! He got a B on his History test."
Rory couldn't help it; she smiled. "He did? Really?"
"And he didn't even cheat," Luke said proudly.
"Why would you thin—"
"I didn't," Luke interrupted. "The teacher thought maybe… but only Jess could write smartass answers like that."
Luke's grin was contagious. "So how'd you do it?" he asked again.
"I didn't. Jess is really smart."
Luke nodded. "I know, but how'd you get him to take the test?"
Rory was at a loss. "I guess I… maybe… I don't really know," she said honestly.
"Do you think you can do it again?"
Rory froze. "What?"
"Help him."
"I don't thin—"
"Free coffee," he offered. "For you." He hesitated before adding reluctantly, "And your mom."
"I'm sorry, Luke. I just don't think that's a goo—"
Luke's smile faded slightly.
Rory sighed. "Okay."
"Okay?"
She shrugged. "Yeah, sure."
Luke hugged her again. This time, when he pulled away, he noticed her red eyes. "Is everything okay?"
"Yeah, everything's fine," Rory assured him.
"Where's your mom?" he asked, looking past her into the house.
"Oh, she's at the Inn. She'll be home soon."
"I can stay," Luke awkwardly offered. "If you nee—"
"I'm fine."
Luke nodded. "So, Jess? How about Thursday?"
"Uh, yeah, Thursday is fine."
"Great!" Luke shook his head in disbelief. "I can't believe he got a B."
Rory smiled.
"I'll see you in the diner tomorrow?"
"Um, yeah," she agreed. "We'll be there."
"Okay. I'll have your coffee waiting."
Rory nodded. "Okay."
Luke shook his head in disbelief one more time and headed back down the walk.
Rory watched him go, then shut the door. She leaned her back against it for the second time that day and softly banged her head on the wood. With a deep sigh, she trudged back into her room, collapsed on the bed, pulled the comforter over her head, and tried not to think about what she'd just done.
