After a while Rory had cried herself to sleep. Lorelai had left her daughter on her bed and gone upstairs, too worried to leave her alone. Rory finally woke up and she lay on her bed, recalling the events of the day to herself.

She had been so excited. Nervous, but excited. She had wanted this. She had been ready. And he had rejected her. Never mind that he had vocalized the one thing she was worried about, that they were moving too fast for their own good, that this would ruin their friendship. She had just been so embarrassed to be turned down like that. She had finally gotten up the courage to tell him something, to give herself to him, and he had said no. And now she didn't know how she could face him.

He would never see her the same way again. She would never see herself the same way again. Now she was the girl who had gotten turned down. Who had brought it up. Wasn't this supposed to be the other way around? Wasn't she the one who was supposed to tell him no, they were moving too fast? She was so confused. . .

And yet. . . in all her sadness and embarrassment, she realized something. He was protecting her. He loved her and he was protecting her. She lay there on the bed for a moment, allowing these thoughts to soak in. Then she slid over to the edge of the bed and grabbed the sweatshirt that was lying on the desk chair. She walked quietly out of her room and out the front door.

She wanted to go to the bridge, but for some reason, that didn't seem right. Whenever she wanted to be with Jess she went to the bridge, so why not now? She didn't analyze it. She just walked to the diner.

It was closed, but the lights in the apartment were on. She considered her options for a moment. Should she just walk up the stairs and knock on the door? But Jess had probably told Luke everything. . . She could call, but she risked Luke picking up. . .

It was worth the risk, she decided. She searched her pocket for a quarter and used the pay phone outside the diner to call the number that by now she had memorized. She heard two distinct ringings: the one in her ear, and the one in the apartment, only a few feet away. "Hello?" she heard. It was Jess. Her heart stopped in her chest for a moment and her breath was suspended in the air between the phone and her half-opened lips.

"Hello?' he said again, "Rory? Is that you?"

"I. . . I. . ."

"Are you OK?"

"Ye-yes."

They were both silent for a moment. "Jess?"

"Yeah."

"Can you meet me downstairs?"

"When?"

"Now?"

"Now?"

"Yeah, I'm down here. . ." Rory saw Jess come to the window of the apartment.

"Why, hello down there."

"Hi."

He hung up the phone, and so did she. She watched as his figure disappeared from the window, and then she saw him come down the stairs and unlock the door to the diner to come outside. He came over to her and they started to walk, matching step for step as they walked together. They both knew exactly where they were going. They didn't say anything. They walked to the well-worn planks of wood of the bridge and sat down. Neither said anything the entire time. Rory looked at Jess and saw that he was waiting for her to talk.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I never should have asked you that. I just assumed. . . you see, I thought-I think I'm ready for that. And I thought that was OK with you. I just assumed that you had done it before. I mean, from what you were telling me about. . . about other girls you knew. . . I just didn't think it would be that big of a deal?"

Jess didn't look at her the entire time she was speaking. He was clutching his knees to his chest and looking out on the water. "Hmm. . ."

"I mean, I understand if you don't want to. . . I mean, I completely understand. . . That's not a problem. . . I just kind of. . . why? Why don't you want me?" She looked at him, tears burning her eyes. She refused to let them fall, held them captive behind her eyelashes.

"I do."

"What?"

"I did want to. I do. I just. . ."

"What?"

"I don't want you to resent me, OK? If I stay the safe boyfriend, if we never sleep together. . . if I'm not your first, then I won't be the first that you always regret."

"But. . . but I want you to be my first."

"You'll think that of your next boyfriend. If we sleep together, then you'll regret that your next boyfriend couldn't be the first one. That always happens. You think that every guy you're with should have been your first and wonder why you gave it up to that loser." His hands were twitching, the way they did right before he smoked a cigarette, before he gave it up.

"You're not that loser. You're not going to be that loser. If we. . . I never wanted to sleep with Dean, and I was with him for much longer than we've been together. I always took this so seriously, probably because of my mom and how she ended up. . . For a while I thought I would wait until I was married. But then. . . the more I thought about us. . . I want you to be my first. And you aren't going to be the first I regret. You're going to be the one I always remember."

For the first time since they had started talking, Jess looked over at her. They stared into each other's eyes, and then Jess kissed her lightly, brushing his lips across her. She lay her head down on his shoulder and he tilted his head so it rested on hers. They sat like that and listened to the water. She reached for his hand. It was still.