A/N:  As always, thanks for the feedback.  It always leaves me with a goofy grin on my face.  I apologize for the delay.  I was distracted by another writing project.  By the way, thanks so much to Lydia for being my fill-in beta. 

Chapter Nine

The bell above the door rang, distracting Jess from his current task of pretending to read behind the counter.  He glanced up just in time to see the retreating back of a couple; this was his cue to get back to work.  He dropped his book in front of him, and walked over to the now vacant booth.  He shoved the crumbled up bills that apparently qualified as his tip into his pocket, before throwing the discarded napkins and used silverware onto the plates. 

With dirty dishes in tow, he headed into the kitchen.  He came back out with a spray bottle and a rag, and immediately went to work on the table, wiping it down.  He spent several minutes making it shine, using half the bottle of cleaner in the process.  After drying the surface, he meticulously arranged the condiments and napkin dispenser, taking special care to make sure they were perfectly lined up.  By the time he had finished, the whole task had taken him four times as long as it usually did.  Glancing up at his uncle, hoping to see a glimmer of anger — or, better yet, a vein throbbing in his forehead — he was rewarded with nothing.  Luke didn't appear to have even noticed the display as he served a family of four.

Jess scowled at Luke's obliviousness, which had to be done on purpose.  Jess was wasting valuable time, not to mention the diner's cleaning supplies, yet Luke didn't care?  What was with him today?  The only reason Jess had acted out was to get a rise out of him, and pull him out of his disturbing mellow state.  Luke had been acting strange since this morning, when he had allowed Jess to sleep through his morning shift.  Instead of yelling for him to get to work, he had woken him twenty minutes before school.

Later, Jess had stumbled down the stairs, backpack in hand, wondering how this would be misconstrued as his fault.  Much to his surprise, Luke didn't even mention it, but instead nodded a good morning, and told him to "have a good day" — a phrase, Jess was certain, that hadn't been directed his way since his first year in town.  At the time, he decided not to read too much into, figuring it would blow over by the afternoon.  Luke's good moods — when it came to Jess, at least — never lasted.  It was in his nature to give him a hard time, and frankly, Jess preferred it that way.

But then he had come home from school, only to receive the afternoon off.  Luke had told him to go to a movie, or take a nap, or do whatever teenage kids were (legally) doing these days.  Now, all Jess could do was attempt to cause trouble, and hope Luke would snap out of this.  Occasional kindness wasn't so out of question, but today, Luke was simply being too nice.  Of all the possible theories, Jess had narrowed it down to either A) Luke had been diagnosed with some kind of terminal illness, rendering him grateful for every precious moment that he had left or B) Luke was being nice for, well, the sake of being nice.  Maybe he had finally taken note of Jess's hard work over the past few months.  Maybe he had finally realized that Jess had really been making an effort, maybe…

"Are you dying?"

"Excuse me?"  Luke asked, looking up for the cash register.

"Or is this one of the signs of the apocalypse?  Should I expect fire to begin raining down from the sky?  Taylor standing over an opening in the ground in the middle of town?"

"Is this conversation supposed to be making sense?  Because so far, you've lost me.  Now start from the beginning:  Who's dying?"

"You're being nice," Jess accused.

"I can be nice."

"To me."

"I can be nice to you," Luke said.

"Since when?  When was the last time you gave me the morning off?  And then followed it up with the afternoon?  You haven't even yelled at me tonight."

"You want me to yell at you?"  Luke asked, puzzled.

"I want to know what's going on."

"Nothing's going on," Luke insisted.  "You're being paranoid."

"Luke, I swear —"

"Nothing is going on.  Now go get back to work.  Go pour coffee, or do that thing where to the untrained eye, you appear to be working, but in reality, you're doing absolutely nothing.  Or, better yet…" he disappeared into the kitchen, and seconds later reappeared with several plates.

"Deliver."

Jess grabbed the meals and brought them over to what he guessed was the correct table.  As he turned to head back to his book, a nearby woman spoke.

"Excuse me, young man, I'm ready to order."

"I don't work here," he answered.

"Yes, you do," Luke called out from the counter.

Jess turned to the lady, his hand poised over his palm in a writing position.  "What will you have?"

"Don't you need to write this down?"

"I am."  He nodded down toward his empty right hand, which still hovered over his left.

"Is this some kind of joke?"

"Yes."

The woman blinked up at him, puzzled at his serious tone and stoic expression.  A hint of frustration appeared on her face, before she finally shrugged it off, figuring this teenage kid could at least remember one order.  "I'll have a hamburger, a side of fries — curly fries, and I want them extra crispy.  I'll have a small salad, no tomatoes, they make me nauseous.  Actually, scratch the curly fries, I'll take some onion rings instead —"

"Extra crispy?"  Jess asked in a bored tone of voice.

"And a diet coke," she continued, ignoring him.  "Got all that?"

He looked down at his palm, narrowing his eyes.  "Fish 'n chips, extra tomatoes, right?"

The last shred of the woman's good nature disappeared as the lines of frustration reappeared.  "Bring me your manager."

"Can't."

"Excuse me?"

"Don't have one.  I already told you I don't work here."  He offered a smirk before asking, "How do you want your burger cooked?  Should it still be mooing or just slightly twitching?"

"Medium rare," she snapped.

He nodded and headed back toward the counter where Luke stood.  "What was that?"

"What was what?"  Jess asked, his words dripping with innocence.

"Were you giving that woman a hard time?"

"Of course not, Uncle Luke.  Why would you think that?"

"She didn't look happy."

"Mid-life crisis, I think."

"Jess…"

"You're being paranoid."

Luke glared.  "Are you going to be like this for the rest of the night?"

Jess paused, his expression turning thoughtful as if he was actually mulling the question over.  "Yup."

"Just take the rest of the night off."

Jess's eyes widened at this new turn of events.  Luke was supposed to yell at him or place him on strict cleaning duty, or something.  Never before had he rewarded his crass behavior with time off.  If Jess didn't finish his shift, he would have only clocked a total of three hours today.  That just wasn't normal.

"Are you kicking me out?  Or are you going to start charging me rent?"  Jess asked.

"We've been over this.  As long as you keep going to school and working here, there's no rent."

"But I'm not working.  I haven't all day.  Is this you're subtle way of telling me, 'haha, you're screwed, go get a real job'?"

"I was gong to try and put this off until after we closed, so you wouldn't make a scene, but since you already are, I might as well just tell you now.  I'm giving you tomorrow morning off — Don't make that face, let me finish.  You're still getting up early."

"You lending me out?"

"God, Jess, you're taking the SATs."

"SATs?"

"Yup."

"No."

"What do you mean, 'no'?  You can't say no.  I signed you up."

"You signed me up?  What is wrong with you?  How long ago did you do this, and did you happen to have a massive head wound at the time?"

"I signed you up last month.  I know your name and age, I used your report card for grades, and for area of interest, I put slacker," Luke explained.

"You had no right to just decide that for me.  I'm not taking it."

"Jess, you are making this into a much bigger deal than it needs to be.  It's just a test.  You give up one Saturday morning.  That's it."

"I'm not doing it."

"You don't have a choice in this.  What if you suddenly decide you want to go to college?  I'm doing this in your best interest."

Jess shook his head in disbelief.  He should have known something like this was coming.  Luke had been lenient on speaking about his future for too long.  He couldn't believe that Luke was actually still holding on to the pipe dream of him attending college.  It just wasn't happening, and Luke refused to accept it.

"Why are you pushing this?  You know what?  Forget it.  I'm sick of having this out with you.  It's not happening and that's it."

Luke looked away, exasperated, before readjusting the cap on his head.  Deep breaths.  "Get back to work."

"Whatever." 

Jess went into the kitchen to tell Caesar the woman's order.  Minutes later, when he reappeared, he found Rory and Lorelai — newly arrived — standing behind the counter, with Luke near the cash register.

"Could you guys take a step back?  This has an intervention type feel to it."

"Jess, guess what Rory and I were just discussing?"  Luke asked.

"I couldn't imagine," Jess deadpanned.

"The SATs."

"No we weren't," Rory spoke up.

"I was about to bring the subject up," Luke explained.  "Rory, you took it, right?"

"Um, yeah, it was kind of required."

"So, the SAT… it's important?"

"This is unbelievable," Jess muttered under his breath.

"Yeah."  Rory glanced over toward him, eyebrows raised as if to ask 'what in the world is he getting at?' but Jess simply glared down at the counter.

"Now, don't you think it's in Jess's best interest to take it?  Just in case?"

Her expression quickly did a one eighty, leaving her with a deer caught in the headlights look.  "I don't think it's my place to state any kind of opinion."

"So you have no feelings toward this at all?"  Luke asked carefully.

"I think something like this is up to Jess.  It's his future, and if he doesn't want to take it, he shouldn't have to."

Luke blinked, shocked at Rory's response.  He looked over at Jess, who had finally ditched the scowl for a smirk of satisfaction.

"Jess doesn't want to go to college," Luke stated.

"His decision.  He's nineteen.  He can decide these things for himself."

"No college?"

"No college."

"Jess, would you look at her?  I think it's physically hurting her to say this."

"It is not," she insisted.

"Okay, if you're done unsuccessfully using Rory to manipulate Jess… can we please get something to eat?  Perhaps a cup of coffee?  Some kind of service?  I just had dinner with my parents… that never leaves me happy," Lorelai broke in.

"Grab a table," Luke muttered, heading back into the kitchen.

"He seems mad.  If we get overcharged, it's totally your fault."  Lorelai said to her daughter, before turning and looking for a booth.

"Overcharged?  When do we charge you?"  Jess asked the still present Rory.

"We pay.  Just not you."

"You owe me two years of tips."

"You owe me two years of friendly service."

"I'm friendly."

"Do you know what service with a smile means?"

"Yes, but sarcasm goes much better with pancakes."  He paused.  "You pissed off Luke."

"I didn't mean to."

"It warrants free coffee."

"It was my goal the entire time."

Their banter came to an abrupt end as he pulled a mug out from beneath the counter, and poured her a cup.  The two of them had gone back to the stilted way of speaking, complete with awkward silences and unexpected dead ends.  It had only been a week since Thanksgiving, after all, and he couldn't expect some kind of miracle between the two of them.  But even so, the air between them was considerably lighter, and for that he was grateful.

Since he had told her that she had been missed around the diner, she had begun tagging along with her mother again, as if she had never stopped.  This was another truce, another test, and both of them wanted to make it last.  No more pretending or ignoring one another, no more picking fights.  Any residual anger should fade with time, especially if the two of them kept this semi-friendship up.

And he wanted to maintain it.  Judging from today, she did too.  He was still surprised at her response to Luke's urging that Jess take tomorrow's test, even thought it was his decision.  Every word she had said had been true, although that didn't mean she had completely changed her way of thinking.  She didn't push because she finally seemed to understand why it had been a problem in the first place… why it had bothered him.  She was trying to change, make things better for the two of them; it only made sense that he did the same.

"You want me to take the test."  He didn't state it as a question; he hoped she wouldn't hear it as one.  He slid the mug over to her, and waited for a reply.

"Thank you."  She picked up the cup as if she hadn't heard him at all, and went and joined her mother.

"Okay, here's the deal," Luke said, suddenly materializing next to him.  "You take the SAT and I'll pay you for the morning shift and the afternoon."

"Luke —"

"No, listen.  You agreed that you would start making an effort if I let you stay.  I'm not saying you haven't been because, let's face it, you've been doing a lot better.  So why not take one more step?  I'm not forcing you to apply anywhere.  I haven't made you sit down and map out your plans for after you graduate.  I just want you to have your options open.  That's it."

A simple no wasn't going to suffice this time.  What Luke had said made sense, even though Jess still thought the whole thing was entirely useless.  Then again, Luke had pretty much acknowledged that those four hours tomorrow morning could be a huge waste of time, but still, there was always that 'what if'.  Jess doubted that that 'what if' would ever come into play, but maybe he could just give in and do it anyway.  It'd get Luke off his back for another few months.  It sure would make Rory happy.  And it was only one morning…

"Do I get time and a half?"

"Jess."

"Right.  Fine.  Whatever."  He nodded at his uncle. 

"Good.  Now…"  Luke dropped the thick SAT Study guide book in front of him.  "Go upstairs and look at this for a while.  It's not too busy down here…"

"You're kidding, right?  You're pushing this."

"Upstairs."

"I didn't agree to this!"  Luke headed out toward the tables.  "Luke!"

His uncle, of course, ignored him, leaving him alone with the monstrous book that he had no urge to look at.  He pushed it aside in favor of picking up his own, much smaller and much more enjoyable novel.  Minutes later, he was interrupted again.

"Can I get another cup of coffee?" Rory asked, approaching the counter.  "My mom finished mine.  She said that it wasn't fair that I got some and she didn't, because she makes Luke mad every day."

"So do I, but you don't see me reaping any benefits."

"Planning on doing some light reading?"  She inquired, glancing down at the study guide.

"You're hilarious."

"I was just curious.  I thought you weren't taking it."

"Yeah, me too."

"Are you going to study?"

"Wasn't planning on it."  He paused.  "How likely do you think it is that Luke will quiz me on this later tonight if I don't do it now?"

"Very likely."

"Huh."

"You know, I could go over it with you."

"Really?"  He looked skeptical.  One on one with her?  Were they ready for that again?  Things had been going well; he didn't want a study session to ruin it.

"Sure.  I'll go easy on you." 

"If you really want to…"

"Let me just tell my mom."

"Here, give her the coffee pot.  Lessen the chance of her freaking out," he offered.

"See, I knew you were smart." 

He grabbed both books, and went up the stairs to the apartment.  He still didn't like the idea of studying for something he didn't even want to take in the first place.  But maybe it wouldn't be such a bust if things went well between him and Rory.  Conversation wouldn't be so hard now.  She would have a book in front of her, lines to read.  This could be just what they needed.

She came in a few minutes later, and took a seat across from him at the table. 

"I'm surprised Lorelai allowed this," he remarked.

"I've been told not to leave the apartment with you under any circumstances."

"And there it is."

"Oh, hey, you're reading Mystic River?"  She asked, finding the book on the table in front of her, and conveniently changing the subject.

"Rereading.  I want to see the movie soon," he explained, a proverbial light bulb forming over his head.

"Oh," she nodded.

"Do you do that too?"

"Do what?"

"Read the book first?  The movie is never as good as the book, and sometimes, if you see it on screen first, your image of it is all skewed when you go to read it."

She narrowed his eyes, seeing through his words.  "Give me the study book."

"Some movies just completely obliterate the book, you know?  Like The Scarlet Letter with Demi Moore?  That's a perfect example of the cinema destroying the message of a classic just to make a profit.  Which they really didn't."

"Jess, the book."  She leaned across the table and grabbed it away, but he paid no attention.

"There should be a rule that classics aren't allowed to be turned into films.  There's so many of them:  Wuthering Heights, Anna Karenina, Pride and Prejudice, Gone With the Wind…"

"That's not fair.  A lot of those films were excellent.  Gone With the Wind won ten academy awards and has been re-released at least twenty times."

"Huh, so it has.  You like that movie?"

She opened her mouth to respond, but then shook her head disapprovingly, and looked back down at the open page in front of her.  "Despite your usual tendency to speak in three word sentences, I know you have an extensive vocabulary.  Case in point:  You won't shut up tonight.  So, we'll just skip to the math."

"It's not just the classics though.  Today, tons of movies are made out of modern novels, or they're remakes of older movies based on older books.  It's like they're running out of ideas or something."

"If a and b are positive integers, and if a and b are not prime numbers, which of the following cannot be the sum of a and b?  A) 5; B) 6; C) 7; D) 12; E) 13…"

"Did you know Big Fish is going to be a movie?  There's also Girl With a Pearl Earring, White Oleander, Where the Heart Is, some of John Grisham's novels, just about every single thing Stephen King has ever written…"

"The answer is B) 6.  Let me see if I can find you an easier one…" She sighed, exasperated.

"I just hate how they change events in movies.  Like in The Virgin Suicides?  In the film, all four girls are successful in offing themselves, while in the book, Mary lives for another month."

"Or how they just get rid of characters.  For what?  Because of time?  Every character in a book holds some value of importance.  If they didn't they wouldn't have been written in."

"Give me an example."

"Jess, come on.  Let me ask you another question.  Oh!  Here we go:  The area of a circle 6 meters in diameter exceeds the combined areas of a circle 4 meters in diameter and a circle 2 meters in diameter by how many square meters?  A) 0; B) 3 pi; C) 4 pi —"

"Pie.  You want some pie?  We've got apple pie downstairs."

"Jess."

"Blueberry, too, I think."

"Jess!"

"What, no pie?  I didn't want to offer you ice cream, but if you really want…"

"Okay, let's just head to the verbal section."

"You ever see Fight Club?  I'd love to see them make Invisible Monsters into a movie."

"But you just said you hated movies from books…"

"I'm just curious about how'd they do it.  Most of the plot twists in that book depend on the lack of a visual."

"Ooh, analogies.  You'll love these.  Anodyne is to pain as A) horse is to journey; B) blanket is to cold; C) candle is to light; D) doctor is to surgeon; E) infection is to germ."

"How about the science fiction / fantasy genre?  Can someone please explain to me the Lord of the Rings craze?"  He had to have her here.  She had an opinion on everything, and she was just dying to fight him on something.  He knew she had plenty to say on this.  Now if only she would let it out…

"Stop it.  I mean it, Jess.  I offered to come up here and help you, but if you're just going to just waste my time, I'll leave."

Great.  Just great.  He had pushed too hard, and now he had pissed her off.  Perfect.  Things had been going well, and suddenly they would be fighting over some irrelevant test.

"Are you mad?" 

"No, I'm just frustrated.  You're an incredibly difficult person," she said.

"That's the general opinion… but you're not mad?"

"After everything we've fought about, you think I'd let something as stupid as this get to me?"

"Good point." 

He paused, staring at her.  She had gone back to looking at the book, flipping through the pages, searching for another question.  He remembered once again that she was trying, really trying here… what was that about him doing the same?

"It's B."

"What?"

"Blanket is to cold," he explained.  "Anodyne relieves pain.  A blanket relieves cold."

She considered his words for a moment, before her mouth curved into a small grin.  She was finally smiling at him again.  Things between them were good.  Better.

"Alright, next question…"