Hardened HeartBy Stoppeda Traffic Light
Ch. 2: I'm Not Running
Rory flung the door opened to her apartment, surprised to see Paris sitting on her couch. Her best friend claimed to live there but spent most of her time at her boyfriends house or the "apartment" that Madeline and Louise shared. While Rory and Paris lived in a modest space, the other two had lived together ever since high school in a space that they called an apartment, when really it was three stories and bigger than the Gilmore house.
"What are you going here?" Rory asked as she sat her keys down on the table and hung her coat and purse on the hook by the door. "Well I do live here." She replied angrily flipping the pages of a magazine.
"Technically yes but when you tend to spend five or six nights a week elsewhere, this really just becomes the place that houses your stuff." Rory paused as she pulled off her shoes and threw them by the door. She looked at Paris who was about to dismember the magazine in front of her. "Careful now, what did the magazine ever do to you?" "Uggh! Not in the mood Gilmore. Save you bantering for someone else." "Fine, but you know you'll end up telling me eventually." Paris ignored her and Rory walked over to start a new batch of coffee. While it was brewing, Rory pulled off her sweatshirt.
"What the hell happened to you? Did they not teach you to how to drink from something that's not a sippie cup at Star Hicksville Elementary?" "First of all Star-s Hol-low." Rory annunciated the words. No matter how many times she repeated it Paris always called it Stars Hicksville when she was in a bad mood. "And as a matter of fact someone ran into me and made me spill my exiler of life. Actually it might be someone you would like to know about." Rory knew Paris had had a thing for Tristan, she made that point evidently clear when she hated Rory because she thought Tristan liked her. It almost ruined any chance the two had at a friendship, but after he got shipped off it made it a little easier.
"Doubtful. Very Doubtful." Paris finished the magazine and now that she had nothing else to do got up and poured herself a drink.
"Tristan Dugrey." Rory said nonchalantly as she sipped her freshly brewed coffee.
Paris spit out the Hawaiian Punch she had been drinking all over the floor. Rory laughed at the blonde girl who looked utterly dumbfounded. "Not interested huh?" She laughed again.
"Tristan? What is he doing here? I thought he was a military school?!" "Yeah for high school. He is the same age as us you know. He's here to go to school. He said he just transferred." "Did he look the same?" Rory could sense the bad mood disappear as Paris became interested in the news of Tristan. She joined Rory by jumping on the counter.
"Pretty much. He's a little taller, more muscular and lean. His hairs a lot shorter." Rory hesitated not knowing how to explain what she had sensed earlier.
"What?" Paris could sense her best friend was leaving something out.
"He just- He seemed different." "Well yeah it's been like four years Gilmore. Everyone changes." "I don't know it was different. Like.. He just seemed colder." "Colder?" "Yeah. Like he was more guarded, closed off. He wasn't the old joking bantering Tristan. He called Mary once. Once. And even then it was Mar. He never used to call me Rory, and he didn't make one sexual reference, not one." "Wow. I guess he has changed." "Yeah I guess so." Rory mumbled in agreement. The two sat in silence for a moment. Rory couldn't get over it. The way he acted, the look in his eyes, she could tell he had been through a lot. He would have had to, to change that much. She sat and wondered if she'd ever see him again. It was very doubtful. Yale was a huge school, and even then he had made it pretty clear he didn't want to see her. He would probably avoid her even if he did see her.
Tristan made his way out of the row of chairs and into the aisle of stairs. He was almost down the stairs when he tripped over a lone book on the floor and went tripping down the steps. Two people in front of him managed to side step and avoid being hit but one girl in front of him wasn't so lucky. "Owww!!" He hit the ground, bringing her down with him. Everyone around them kept walking stepping over them and their books. "Oh, God, I'm sorry. I tripped over a book. Here let me help you up." A small brunette lay beside him. He got up and offered her his hand. She hesitated but took it. "I'm really sorry." He repeated again, before bending down and getting both their books. He stood up and handed her the books. It wasn't until she brushed her straight hair out of her face and behind her ears that he recognized the milky face and blue eyes.
"Rory." She looked up at him, like she had already knew it was him who had hit her.
"You look to bump into people don't you. At least you're improving. No coffee this time!" She waved her empty hands to indicate she had no drink." Her voice dripped with sarcasm and slight bitterness. He had hoped she hadn't taken offense to the coffee incident last week, but he could tell it had hurt her, or at least pissed her off. He had seen her a couple times since then, from a distance. He had avoided her at all cost. He was hoping she hadn't noticed but from her tone he could tell she had.
"Sorry." "I'm sure you are." She said sarcastically as she put her books in her bag. The room was now empty.
"I am." He mumbled and quickly walked away, unfortunately he only made it a couple of steps.
"What is your problem?" Her voice stopped him in his tracks. He didn't turn and facer her, he couldn't.
"What?" "What. Is. Your. Prob-lem." She annunciated, repeating the question. He didn't answer. "You've been avoiding me like the bubonic plague!! Every time you're within a hundred feet you flee!! I could tell you changed Tristan, but I didn't think you hadn't taken up my past time of running-" "I wasn't running." He cut her off.
"What do you call it then?" He turned and looked her straight in the eye. "Trying not to get my heart broken again." With that he turned and ran down the steps, leaving a dumfounded and confused Rory staring at his retreating figure.
Rory made her way down to her favorite coffee shop. She felt so confused. How had she broken Tristan's heart? She had kissed him sophomore year but they had become friends afterward and he hadn't left until almost a year later. No one ever confused her this much. Even her Yale classes were tolerable. Sometimes they were complicated but there was always an answer in the book or her notes, or in a trip to the library.
Tristan on the other hand had dropped his bomb, and then left. He just ran away. Or didn't run away. He had said he wasn't running, that he just didn't want to get his heart broken. But how did she break his heart? Her head was going in circles, back to the same question over and over. No matter what she did she couldn't get her mind off Tristan.
She had to talk to someone. Both her Mom and Lane hadn't answered the phone, so she left a message but neither had called back yet. Rory abruptly changed directions and made her way back to her apartment. Most of the time Paris was a last resort on relationship advice. Yeah she was her best friend, but Paris didn't have a lot to say on girl topics like these. But she needed to talk to someone.Tristan quickly scanned the coffee shop to make sure Rory wasn't there. It was the one where he had first ran into her, and the last thing he needed was to reenact the scene. He made his way to the counter. In the middle of putting his cream and sugar into his cup, he was interrupted by a familiar voice, one that didn't belong to a Gilmore, but another Chiltonite.
"Well, Well, Well, look who we have here." Tristan turned to see Paris Gellar standing behind him. She was holding two coffees, one small, the other a size that would be too much for Big Foot.
"Paris. Good to see you again." "Yeah, yeah, skip the formalities. What are you doing here?" She asked bluntly.
"Getting coffee." He answered gesturing to his cup. "I meant here. At Yale." "Going to school, I would think it would be obvious." "You mean you're choice of school has nothing to do with the girl you followed around for two years?" "What?" "Are you telling me you had no idea Rory went here." "What?! Of course not. How do you know that I ran into-" "I'm her best friend and you need to leave her alone." She cut him off in a typical Paris fashion.
"You're her best friend?" He asked in surprise. The last time he saw the two they were sworn enemies- because of him, for which he had always felt guilty.
"Yes, and I'm gonna repeat myself LEAVE. HER. ALONE." She walked past him to get her own cream and sugar.
"I am." He grabbed a napkin and was about to leave, when she spoke again.
"No you're not." "Paris what's your damage okay? I've tried to steer clear of her since I ran into her- which I didn't know she went here by the way. I haven't done anything to her!" He just realized his voice had risen on the last part, and people were starting to stare. He lowered his voice. "So back off." "If you didn't do anything then why did she come back to our apartment almost in tears because she doesn't know what she did to hurt you. She thinks you're mad at her." He didn't know what to say. He turned to leave but stopped. With his back turned, he told her "Tell her... Tell her I'm not, okay?" With that Tristan walked out and let the door slam behind him, never looking back.
"What are you going here?" Rory asked as she sat her keys down on the table and hung her coat and purse on the hook by the door. "Well I do live here." She replied angrily flipping the pages of a magazine.
"Technically yes but when you tend to spend five or six nights a week elsewhere, this really just becomes the place that houses your stuff." Rory paused as she pulled off her shoes and threw them by the door. She looked at Paris who was about to dismember the magazine in front of her. "Careful now, what did the magazine ever do to you?" "Uggh! Not in the mood Gilmore. Save you bantering for someone else." "Fine, but you know you'll end up telling me eventually." Paris ignored her and Rory walked over to start a new batch of coffee. While it was brewing, Rory pulled off her sweatshirt.
"What the hell happened to you? Did they not teach you to how to drink from something that's not a sippie cup at Star Hicksville Elementary?" "First of all Star-s Hol-low." Rory annunciated the words. No matter how many times she repeated it Paris always called it Stars Hicksville when she was in a bad mood. "And as a matter of fact someone ran into me and made me spill my exiler of life. Actually it might be someone you would like to know about." Rory knew Paris had had a thing for Tristan, she made that point evidently clear when she hated Rory because she thought Tristan liked her. It almost ruined any chance the two had at a friendship, but after he got shipped off it made it a little easier.
"Doubtful. Very Doubtful." Paris finished the magazine and now that she had nothing else to do got up and poured herself a drink.
"Tristan Dugrey." Rory said nonchalantly as she sipped her freshly brewed coffee.
Paris spit out the Hawaiian Punch she had been drinking all over the floor. Rory laughed at the blonde girl who looked utterly dumbfounded. "Not interested huh?" She laughed again.
"Tristan? What is he doing here? I thought he was a military school?!" "Yeah for high school. He is the same age as us you know. He's here to go to school. He said he just transferred." "Did he look the same?" Rory could sense the bad mood disappear as Paris became interested in the news of Tristan. She joined Rory by jumping on the counter.
"Pretty much. He's a little taller, more muscular and lean. His hairs a lot shorter." Rory hesitated not knowing how to explain what she had sensed earlier.
"What?" Paris could sense her best friend was leaving something out.
"He just- He seemed different." "Well yeah it's been like four years Gilmore. Everyone changes." "I don't know it was different. Like.. He just seemed colder." "Colder?" "Yeah. Like he was more guarded, closed off. He wasn't the old joking bantering Tristan. He called Mary once. Once. And even then it was Mar. He never used to call me Rory, and he didn't make one sexual reference, not one." "Wow. I guess he has changed." "Yeah I guess so." Rory mumbled in agreement. The two sat in silence for a moment. Rory couldn't get over it. The way he acted, the look in his eyes, she could tell he had been through a lot. He would have had to, to change that much. She sat and wondered if she'd ever see him again. It was very doubtful. Yale was a huge school, and even then he had made it pretty clear he didn't want to see her. He would probably avoid her even if he did see her.
Tristan made his way out of the row of chairs and into the aisle of stairs. He was almost down the stairs when he tripped over a lone book on the floor and went tripping down the steps. Two people in front of him managed to side step and avoid being hit but one girl in front of him wasn't so lucky. "Owww!!" He hit the ground, bringing her down with him. Everyone around them kept walking stepping over them and their books. "Oh, God, I'm sorry. I tripped over a book. Here let me help you up." A small brunette lay beside him. He got up and offered her his hand. She hesitated but took it. "I'm really sorry." He repeated again, before bending down and getting both their books. He stood up and handed her the books. It wasn't until she brushed her straight hair out of her face and behind her ears that he recognized the milky face and blue eyes.
"Rory." She looked up at him, like she had already knew it was him who had hit her.
"You look to bump into people don't you. At least you're improving. No coffee this time!" She waved her empty hands to indicate she had no drink." Her voice dripped with sarcasm and slight bitterness. He had hoped she hadn't taken offense to the coffee incident last week, but he could tell it had hurt her, or at least pissed her off. He had seen her a couple times since then, from a distance. He had avoided her at all cost. He was hoping she hadn't noticed but from her tone he could tell she had.
"Sorry." "I'm sure you are." She said sarcastically as she put her books in her bag. The room was now empty.
"I am." He mumbled and quickly walked away, unfortunately he only made it a couple of steps.
"What is your problem?" Her voice stopped him in his tracks. He didn't turn and facer her, he couldn't.
"What?" "What. Is. Your. Prob-lem." She annunciated, repeating the question. He didn't answer. "You've been avoiding me like the bubonic plague!! Every time you're within a hundred feet you flee!! I could tell you changed Tristan, but I didn't think you hadn't taken up my past time of running-" "I wasn't running." He cut her off.
"What do you call it then?" He turned and looked her straight in the eye. "Trying not to get my heart broken again." With that he turned and ran down the steps, leaving a dumfounded and confused Rory staring at his retreating figure.
Rory made her way down to her favorite coffee shop. She felt so confused. How had she broken Tristan's heart? She had kissed him sophomore year but they had become friends afterward and he hadn't left until almost a year later. No one ever confused her this much. Even her Yale classes were tolerable. Sometimes they were complicated but there was always an answer in the book or her notes, or in a trip to the library.
Tristan on the other hand had dropped his bomb, and then left. He just ran away. Or didn't run away. He had said he wasn't running, that he just didn't want to get his heart broken. But how did she break his heart? Her head was going in circles, back to the same question over and over. No matter what she did she couldn't get her mind off Tristan.
She had to talk to someone. Both her Mom and Lane hadn't answered the phone, so she left a message but neither had called back yet. Rory abruptly changed directions and made her way back to her apartment. Most of the time Paris was a last resort on relationship advice. Yeah she was her best friend, but Paris didn't have a lot to say on girl topics like these. But she needed to talk to someone.Tristan quickly scanned the coffee shop to make sure Rory wasn't there. It was the one where he had first ran into her, and the last thing he needed was to reenact the scene. He made his way to the counter. In the middle of putting his cream and sugar into his cup, he was interrupted by a familiar voice, one that didn't belong to a Gilmore, but another Chiltonite.
"Well, Well, Well, look who we have here." Tristan turned to see Paris Gellar standing behind him. She was holding two coffees, one small, the other a size that would be too much for Big Foot.
"Paris. Good to see you again." "Yeah, yeah, skip the formalities. What are you doing here?" She asked bluntly.
"Getting coffee." He answered gesturing to his cup. "I meant here. At Yale." "Going to school, I would think it would be obvious." "You mean you're choice of school has nothing to do with the girl you followed around for two years?" "What?" "Are you telling me you had no idea Rory went here." "What?! Of course not. How do you know that I ran into-" "I'm her best friend and you need to leave her alone." She cut him off in a typical Paris fashion.
"You're her best friend?" He asked in surprise. The last time he saw the two they were sworn enemies- because of him, for which he had always felt guilty.
"Yes, and I'm gonna repeat myself LEAVE. HER. ALONE." She walked past him to get her own cream and sugar.
"I am." He grabbed a napkin and was about to leave, when she spoke again.
"No you're not." "Paris what's your damage okay? I've tried to steer clear of her since I ran into her- which I didn't know she went here by the way. I haven't done anything to her!" He just realized his voice had risen on the last part, and people were starting to stare. He lowered his voice. "So back off." "If you didn't do anything then why did she come back to our apartment almost in tears because she doesn't know what she did to hurt you. She thinks you're mad at her." He didn't know what to say. He turned to leave but stopped. With his back turned, he told her "Tell her... Tell her I'm not, okay?" With that Tristan walked out and let the door slam behind him, never looking back.