A/N: I love you all. Thanks so much for the fantastic reviews. You all are wonderful. Melissa, as always, thanks for being a groovy beta and giving me a much needed boost of confidence. Mai… what can I say? We're BOAF. Hee.
Chapter One
As it turned out, it really wasn't worth it. Or at least that was Rory's opinion on the whole matter. Of course, this thought wasn't necessarily true. It was laced with bitterness and anger directed toward their relationship, so her mind was clouded by negativity. It was funny how the anger never really went away. (And as she found out, neither did the pain.) It was a surprise for her when their relationship deteriorated further even after she walked into the diner that evening, her jaw literally dropping at the sight of his hunched over form behind the counter. (He stayed?!) She had figured everything was finally starting to look up. Really, it wasn't possible for things to get any worse.
It was. And they did.
But that was all in the past now. Her summer had been spent in Europe thinking non-Jess related thoughts, and seeing sights that she had formerly only read about in books. Sure, about halfway through her trip she had given into her intense desire (that she rarely thought about, of course) to hear his voice and placed a call to Stars Hollow. He didn't answer—thankfully—but she did leave a message—she was convinced she had been stricken temporarily insane when she placed the call—and there was only the hope that the antique answering machine Luke refused to trash had gone spastic and randomly deleted her message. Or maybe Luke listened to it first, recognized her abnormalcy, and got rid of it before Jess heard.
Although it was more likely that Jess did receive it. Whatever. She really couldn't worry about that or him or anything remotely related to him. It was distracting, not to mention emotionally draining, and the last thing she needed on her second day back in Stars Hollow was an emotional breakdown. (She'd save that for her first day at Yale.)
At the moment, she was in the process of becoming reacquainted with the town (much could've changed in the months she was away) and delivering gifts. She was headed to the Kim house, ready to catch up with her best friend complete with screaming, hugging, and jumping around. And on that thought…
"Lane!"
"Rory!"
They ran full force into each other and proceeded to make a very raucous spectacle of themselves in front of Kim's Antiques.
"You're home!" Lane nearly shrieked.
"I'm home!"
"You look different."
"I've been abroad. It changes a person," Rory explained.
"Of course," her friend nodded. "You've been Europeanized."
"Yes, I believe that's the word. I've seen so much, Stars Hollow seems so… small to me."
"It really is that small. But I see how it is now," Lane said, playing along, "You've become too good for us."
"I'm sorry, I don't think we'll be able to hang out anymore. I mean, after traveling to a foreign country…"
"Hey! I've been to Korea! I am Korean!"
"That's true," Rory said, a smile spreading across her face. "I suppose I don't have to completely cut you off…"
Lane hugged her friend once again, laughing. "How I've missed your mind games!"
The two headed inside, and Lane led them to a table in the very back. Rory dropped her backpack on the ground, let out a dramatized groan and collapsed into a chair. After Lane took her seat, she shot Rory an expectant look. "So… what'd you get me?"
Rory feigned shock. "Get you? I was supposed to get you something?"
"It is a very gratifying and well-known tradition that most people follow. The friend goes away and has a great time leaving their poor, lonely pal all alone at home. The least this 'so-called' friend can do is bring the lonely one home a gift."
"But… I'm here! I'm your gift!"
"Well, I sure hope you didn't throw away the receipt," Lane quipped.
"I'm hurt!"
Lane smiled and held out her hand. "Did you know giving makes a person feel better? It's a scientific fact."
"You're greedy." She leaned down towards her bag and unzipped the first pouch. She reached inside and felt around. "Now I tried to buy you France."
"The whole thing?"
"Of course. Every girl could use her own country," Her brow furrowed and she reached in further, "Unfortunately, the price was absolutely outrageous, so I figured you'd settle for this," She pulled out a book but as soon as her eyes landed on it, she realized she had the wrong one. Quickly, she tried to stuff it back inside but Lane caught on to her hastiness and reached down to stop her.
"What'd you got there? I'm guessing that's not for me," She said, eyes laughing.
"Oh, uh, no. It's mine."
"Yours?"
"Yup," Rory nodded.
"So if it's yours, why did you try to not so stealthily shove it back into your bag?"
"I didn't want you to see it. I was afraid you'd call me a bookworm, mocking my literature loving ways."
"Of course. Because it'd make total sense to start making fun of you now," Lane said, shooting her an odd look. She pulled the book from her grasp and sat back in her seat. "Blue of Noon," she read from the cover. "Huh."
"Yeah," Rory shrugged. "It's by a French author, but I found a translated version, and I figured I'd buy it… because I wanted it. For me."
"Or for a certain dark haired ex-boyfriend of yours?"
"Fooooor," she drew out the word as much as she could, "Me," she enunciated clearly. "Me. M. E. Me."
"You do know that the more insistent you are, the more obvious it is that you're lying."
"That's not true!"
"You're nose is growing, Pinocchio. Just admit it. You bought it for Jess."
Rory sighed. "Sometimes I don't like you."
Lane shrugged and handed the book back over. "Sometimes you act like such a baby. Are you going to give it to him?"
Rory opened her mouth once again to protest the intended recipient of the gift but at the look that was shot her way, she crumbled in defeat. "I don't know. We're not even on speaking terms… and I don't know if he's moved on. I've been gone all summer, he could have had dozens of Shanes by now."
"Except he hasn't."
"How do you know?" Rory asked, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. "Jess didn't get his very own personal stalker while I was gone, did he?"
"How could you think so little of me? Wipe that smirk off your face before I conveniently forget everything I know!" She paused and once Rory complied, she continued, "Alright. He has had no public girlfriends. He spent most of the summer working in the diner, so unless he keeps them stashed in his closet, he has been very inactive. And, for your information, I know this from seeing him myself and from the town. Everyone had their eye on him while you were gone."
"My faithful little town, looking out for me. Thank you, Lane. So, he's… single? And he's still… here. Something I'm pretty surprised about. I didn't think he'd be here when I got back."
"You think he'd just up and leave while you were gone?" Lane asked, unaware of just how close he came to doing so last May.
"I wouldn't put it past him," she muttered, studying the table top in front of her. What now? Talk to him? Avoid him? Make eye contact? It wasn't as if she would be able to stay away from the diner for long. She'd most likely end up there before the day was over. Luke needed to be greeted (and apologized to for the fake jam). She also needed the delicious taste of his coffee. It had been too long. But she doubted she'd enjoy it if it was Jess who was pouring it for her.
Rory tapped her fingers against the table, attempting to rid her mind of her thoughts. She looked up at Lane and figured a change of subject was needed, so she reached back down to her bag, once again trying to find her gift.
"Back to searching," Rory sighed. "So, how's the band?"
"The band? Ah yes, the band. My band. My wonderful, fantastic band," she rambled while Rory raised her eyebrows. "It's doing okay, I suppose. We haven't really practiced much over the summer. Sure we've had meetings, and I've stashed them in random pieces of furniture at every suspicious noise. And sure Dave left for college in California, so we're one member short, not to mention my having my heart ripped out and stomped on. But we're doing fine. Just… fine."
At this point, Rory gave up her fruitless efforts to retrieve the gift and sat back in her chair, her mouth hanging open. "He… left?" She managed to stutter out. "For California?"
"California," Lane echoed.
"Wow, I am really starting to not like that state," she muttered. "Oh, Lane! Why didn't you tell me before I left? I'm so sorry!"
"He didn't tell me, either, till like a month ago. He kept putting it off… and off…" She sighed. "Now he's out there, having fun in the sun with all sorts of Kate Bosworthesque girls, and I'm here, with three quarters of a band. We're not even a complete band anymore!"
"He's not with a bunch of surfer girls! He's down there, setting up his dorm room, moping around, completely miserable without you. When'd he leave?"
"A couple of days ago. He said he'd call, write, email, ect., ect. You know, all those empty clichéd promises that he'll forget about after a week."
"Lane! Don't say that! But, what exactly is the situation with you two? Is this a long distance relationship or…"
"A non-existent one? We've agreed to see other people. But he's coming home for Christmas… which is only, what? …Four months away," Lane finished mournfully.
"I'm sorry, Lane. This really…"
"Sucks," she finished for her. "I can't believe he picked California of all places! But you know what? I am not going to pine. I am not going to sit by the phone every single night waiting for him to call. I am going to be out, having a great time! I'll have class, I'll be studying…" She paused. "I will be casually dating Koreans who aspire to be doctors!" She threw her hand up in the air in a triumphant stance. "And guys with non-medical interests when I can manage it," she added.
"That's a great plan! Live your life to the fullest! Date all that you can! And when Dave finally calls, you won't be home, and that'll just go to show him--"
"Wait! I don't want to miss his call!"
"I think somehow you missed the whole point of your little tirade."
"Yes, you're right. I'm insane. If I miss his call, I miss his call. He'll leave a message. Right?"
"Right!" Rory agreed, leaning down to, once again, search for Lane's present. She opened up the second pouch, and this time, was immediately successful. "Oh! Found it!" She slid the book across the table, and Lane caught it before it flew off.
Lane's smile faltered as she lifted the book up to read the title. "Um…"
"Héros oubliés du rock'n roll: Les Années du rock avant Elvis," Rory recited.
"That's really great how you can pronounce it but… I can't. It's kind of in French. You know, that language that I can't speak. And…wow. This entire book is in French," she observed, flipping through the pages. "French on this page, French on this page. And, oh, look! French on page 72!"
"Yes, I know, it's in a foreign language that you don't know, and this, unfortunately didn't really occur to me until I already paid for it. So…" Rory leaned down and grabbed another book out of her bag. "I got you this too!"
"A French to English dictionary?" Lane asked, studying the book in front of her. "You thought of everything!"
"You're never going to read that book, are you?"
"Let's just put it this way: It'll make a great paper weight."
"Ungrateful," Rory teased.
--
The bell jingled above her, but all she heard was a warning to turn around, run away. Ignoring the voice (of reason) in her head, she continued inside the diner, the door swinging shut behind her. Her eyes slowly danced from left to right, making a quick sweep of the room. Unfortunately, her gaze froze about halfway through when it landed on the counter.
Or, more specifically, on him.
He had been standing there preoccupied—reading, humming, contemplating which cloth cleaned the best… she didn't know—but at the (irritating) sound of the bell, he had glanced up. Their eyes locked, and she found herself rooted to the spot. His gaze conjured up an unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach, and she nearly turned away. But somehow she recognized this moment for what it was, and she refused to avert her eyes. It was almost a staring contest between them, who would turn away first…?
After too many seconds had passed, she was surprised to feel a blush reddening her cheeks. The memory of the last time they had been together—really together—accompanied it, and she bit her lip so hard, she tasted blood. Flashes of that night danced in her head. Lips, hands, a cold silence and stiff sheets, a first time, their last time, fragments that deepened her blush so much, she felt she had to look away. And she did break the contact, choosing instead to search for her mother—not there—and then an empty table, her hair falling forward with the tilt of her head to provide a curtain to hide her face.
She slid into the nearest booth, her mind reeling from the absolute nothing the two of them had just shared. Regret took a seat next to her, and she was practically kicking herself for coming there tonight. Lorelai wasn't even there; although it was very possible she would be making an appearance soon, so Rory figured she should wait a few more minutes. At least five hundred more seconds of sitting there, stealing glances at a guy she hadn't had an actual conversation with in months. Maybe she shouldn't have broken eye contact. Maybe she should have made an attempt to speak to him, or at the very least, taken a seat at the counter. It was a horrible thought to think she had just ruined any chance for reconciliation because she couldn't even say "hi".
Quickly, she glanced over to where he was standing, only to see Luke there, gesturing towards her table, and Jess looking thoroughly pissed off. He shook his head 'no' with each thrust of Luke's arm in her direction, and finally, the coffee pot was shoved into his hand, and he turned, a scowl present on his face. On his way out from behind the counter, he grabbed a mug, and she immediately turned away, suddenly finding the tabletop much more fascinating. Then the mug came clattering in front of her, placed with such a force, it spun. His hand then entered her line of vision, stilling the cup. She looked up and saw him suck in a breath.
"Coffee?" He questioned, his voice nonchalant. She nearly smiled at his facade of easiness. Or maybe it was just at the sound of his voice.
"Of course," she nodded. He reached down to pour, and the rarely unleashed impulsive side of her decided to seize the opportunity. Start off slow. "So how was your summer?" She asked, doing her best to copy his calm tone.
"Fine," he replied tersely, and then he spun around and headed back to the counter, without another word. The image of his back actually hurt, a physical shot right through her chest, and all she could do was sip her coffee, and analyze all the reasons why their relationship had taken such a drastic turn downhill. She couldn't believe that after she had put up such a fight, even shakily confessing love for him, she actually (almost) regretted his staying in Stars Hollow. But how could she be grateful? So he was there for her a little longer… their make-out sessions did little to make up for their non-existent conversation. She had hoped that he would open up a bit more once he decided to stay, but instead her questions became less frequent as his replies became even more succinct. And then one night, they really didn't talk at all, instead opting for a physical comfort. Luke had been gone for the weekend, off with Nicole, and Rory had arrived to find a distracted Jess, on his bed, reading an upside down book. Greetings were exchanged, and then a kiss, a lingering touch, and before she knew it, she could barely catch her breath as his hand moved to her jeans. Thinking back now, she thought herself naïve, hoping that sex would change things, make everything better. And it had felt so good…
But then morning had come, that unfortunate inevitable fate, and she had awoken to an unfamiliar bed and regret. She hadn't wanted their first time to be under those circumstances. She was afraid of him attempting to leave again, afraid of losing him (anything to get him to stay). She proved herself to be one of those silly girls, losing her head over a guy. She had tried her hardest to leave without waking him, but stealth had never been her strong suit, and he had woken before she was fully dressed. What could have been a tender moment was ruined by her uneasiness. The surrounding air had been thick with tension, and it had settled over her like a second skin. Then it had erupted into a fight of how the night before should never have happened, of how it had been wrong, wrong, wrong (the word ringing in both their ears). She didn't trust him, and relationships were based on trust! (And on communication and honesty… both ingredients that they sorely lacked.) Then there was only the end, their break up, initiated by her and completed by him.
That had been a couple of weeks before Europe. They didn't speak again until right before she left. A forced goodbye, not meeting his eyes. Words only exchanged because he had been in the diner when she and Lorelai were saying farewell to Luke. Earlier, he had skipped her graduation, and sometimes, she thought she hated him.
Before she knew it, several minutes had passed, and her coffee cup was empty. No one came over to refill it, and she sighed, noticing that Jess had disappeared upstairs. Luke was out of sight as well, and Lorelei was still M.I.A. After a full minute of staring at the curtain separating the stairs from the rest of the diner, she stood up and hurried over to it. Then she hesitated, her fingers lingering on the material.
"Um, hey… hi, Jess."
"Hey, Rory. Coffee?"
Swallowing hard, "Sure." A pause. "You're… here."
"It's my shift."
"You know what I'm talking about."
Looking down, up, around, couldn't look her in the eye, "Anything else?"
"A reason."
"I think it could be worth it."
She blinked quickly, although tears hadn't begun to form. The memory of finding him in the diner even though she was sure he was already 3000 miles away stung, but she refused to shed one more tear over him. She drew the curtain back, but then the sound of the bell distracted her. Turning around, she saw her mother in the entrance of the diner. With her free hand, she waved back, and Lorelai raised her eyebrows in question. She took a breath and glanced back at the stairs. Her hand dropped with a final thought: it wasn't worth it. She was halfway across the room before the curtain fell back into place, looking as if it hadn't been disturbed.
