I'm really sorry for totally neglecting this fic during the entire semester. School got a little distracting and I had trouble writing this. It's not as if I don't have time to write, because I did wrote a few ficlets in the meantime. It's just mainly I have time to organize the plot and characters … blah blah blah blah. It's been six months since my last update (Yeah, I can't believe that either) so you might want to re-read some bits to get reacquainted with the storyline. Thanks for sticking with me all this time.
Spoiler: I officially follow the show up till A Deep Fried Korean Thanksgiving. That's because Jess was an absolute ass after that point. But that is not to say I won't incorporate tiny facts from the show (i.e. Rory and Paris went to Yale) gleamed after that point.
Disclaimer: It's quite obvious, I do not own Gilmore Girls. I don't think people ever thought I do, but just in case.
Dedication: To Bright (of Everwood) because his rendition of Independent Women Part I is AWESOME!! I have a karaoke machine home, Bright. Call me!
Jess Mariano hated alarm clocks. He hated them with a passion. He believed that if his body demanded 19 solid hours of sleep, why let a little annoying mechanized timepiece tell him otherwise. Of course, it would be a different matter if he was on assignment and he had to wake up at ungodly hours for tapings. But he never set the alarm clock whenever he was home. What's the rush?
But that didn't put a stop to abrupt awakenings.
"Holy crap!" That was the first thing he heard this morning. The frantic exclamation was followed by equally frantic clawing at the door.
He opened one eye to see if his room still looked the way he remembered. He was too lazy to open the other eye. One of his Chuck Taylors was sitting on top of an upturned CD case. The content of said CD case had migrated next to a pile of clothes in desperate need of laundry. His dog-eared copy of 1984 quietly commanded attention on the window still. In general, the room looked like the crime scene of a breaking and entering case.
Yep. Nothing out of the ordinary here. He blindly groped for the clock and held it to reading distance. Jess squinted at the digital readout. 7:33. He threw the clock at a random direction and groaned. This was way too early for him.
He pulled the sheet above his head in hope that the scratching noise would go away. It did. Only temporary. Soon he felt a heavy weight plopped down beside him. A gush of fresh air attacked his face as the sheet was ripped away from his head. Someone's steady breathing tickled the tip of his nose. He opened one eye again.
This time the sight of his shamelessly messy room was replaced by a pair of blue eyes. Her face hovered closely to his. Her nose was this close to touching his. In fact, their eyes were so close that he could see his double image in them. It was a tiny distorted version of himself. Needless to say, those blue eyes belong to his roommate and good friend, Rory Gilmore.
He closed his eyes and rolled over. The bedsprings creaked as if to protest his shifting weight. "Why didn't I get a lock when I had the chance?" Jess wanted to sleep in today. Maybe if he closed his eyes and concentrate, he could telepathically will Rory away so he could go back to sleep.
"You bought one, but you had trouble installing it. Remember?"
"Well, remind me to try again when I'm back," He groaned, referring to his impending trip.
Rory leaned against his pillow and curled her legs underneath her. Jess could feel her absentmindedly smoothing away his hair from his forehead. The innocent gesture reminded him of his adolescence when they used to be together. But instead of dwelling on his past, he focused on the present. "So what brought you here at this time of the day?"
"The microwave isn't working, " She lamented. The way she delivered her sentence, one might easily replace "microwave" with the name of a dear family pet.
"Let me get this straight. You woke me up at 7:30 in the morning because an electronic appliance isn't working?" Jess's tone was that of amusement rather than frustration.
"Hey, the microwave is very important. I mean how else might I reheat leftover egg rolls for breakfast."
"Eat it cold," Jess suggested.
"Blech!"
"So what did you do to it?"
"Nothing! One moment my food was spinning under the warm glow of artificial light, next thing I know it let out this weird buzzing noise and just shut down."
"You sure you didn't use a metal container?"
"Yes." She rolled her eyes. "I know I'm technologically challenged, but I'm not an imbecile."
"I'll look into to it later." Rory didn't know if he was referring to the microwave or the imbecile comment.
Throughout the conversation, Jess noticed that Rory's hand never left his hair. Her warm fingers deftly threaded between his bed head, familiarizing with every twist and curl that was there. The gesture evoked familiarity and perhaps, just perhaps, intimacy. It was the type of eerie intimacy that reminded him of all the emotion that used to run wild between them. Yet there was something startlingly subdued about it.
It was a kind of intimacy that one reserved for a cherished bichon frise. Emotional yet … not.
"I hope you can fix it before you leave. With you gone, I'll actually have to make an honest effort to feed myself and I would appreciate the added assistance of a microwave." Jess was more than a decent cook contrary to popular belief, providing a reasonable substitution for all those dinners she used to have over at Luke's. She wouldn't hesitate to sing his praises if she had the chance. Jess, however, would prefer if this information stayed between the two of them.
"Rory, let's be honest. The most that you ever 'cooked' was re-heating leftover pizza and you still managed to burn the crust." Jess air-quoted.
She made a half-hearted attempt to slug him in the arm. "It's blackened. People actually eat food that are cooked that way."
"Well, yeah if that's on a piece of chicken or on the shrimp kabob and the term 'Cajun' was thrown in there somewhere."
"Jess Anthony Mariano, when did you start watching Bobby Flay?" Rory covered her mouth and mock scandalized.
"The remote control ran out of battery and I couldn't change the channel," He weakly retorted.
"Sure." She teased. "Did you become an Emeril fan as well?"
It was Jess's turn to hit her shoulder. "Instead of bugging me, why don't you let your boyfriend wine and dine you? At least you won't die of starvation."
"Tristan started a new project in the museum and he's been pulling all-nighters." She stopped playing with his hair. "He's a little remote lately." The last part was uttered so softly that it risked being overwhelmed by the traffic noise outside the window.
Jess wished she could elaborate on "remote." He wanted to know if Tristan was treating her properly as he had promised to him. He wanted to know if hurtful words were spoken. Intentionally or not. He easily slipped into a protective big brother mode, conceiving reasons and methods to produce the most physical pain on Tristan if he dared to hurt her.
He didn't ask her explicitly though. He knew better. If Rory wanted a confidante, she would have told him without asking.
But Rory didn't continue on that comment. Instead, she quickly steered into a different topic. "Have you started packing yet?" As much as she tried to hide it, the Tristan comment left its mark on her tone. There was a suppressed calmness that didn't quite reach her eyes.
"I'll do it tomorrow." Jess followed her lead and didn't pursue her for more information. If she's didn't want to tell, he wouldn't ask. He respected her choice of silence.
"I thought you're leaving tomorrow night."
"Yeah. But I don't really have to pack. I just throw a few t-shirts into a duffel bag and I'm good to go."
"Please tell me you're including deodorant and some kind of shampoo on that list." Jess gave her the "well duh" look. "Oooo! Bring that electric razor that I got you."
"Nah. I think my rugged unshaven face look better on camera." He scrubbed his hand against his rough stubble.
"Sweetie, I can grate parmesan cheese with your 'stubble'."
"Well, you'll just have to make do with it. Electricity seems to be one of those necessities that will not be readily available to me."
"Well, I'll drop by the drugstore after work and pick up a pack of disposables for you. I can't risk having you look like Treat Williams by the end of the month. Where are you going this time?"
"The driest place on earth, the Atacama Desert in Chile. There's this spot near the city of Iquique for paragliding. I hear you can see the city sandwiched between the desert dune and the Pacific Ocean."
"Sounds like fun." She sarcastically enthused. The kind of "fun" that Jess seemed to enjoy immensely. The same kind of "fun" that Rory tried to avoid desperately.
"I think I'll have a great time. Sometimes, I still can't believe they pay me to do this."
"Well, I think I should go now," Rory said after she caught sight of Jess's clock at the foot of the bed. "I probably should grab a bite to eat before I head over to downtown."
While she was speaking, she attempted to roll up the sleeves of her oxfords as she spoke. But it would only scrunch up unevenly. After her third failed attempt, she stretched her arms in front of Jess and signaled for him to do it instead. He quietly obliged. Yep, that's invisible rapport is back again. As he rolled up the sleeves of her crisp white shirt, he asked, "So what's today's big story?"
"The renovations at the Donnell Library children's section is done and they're having a press conference of some sorts." She shrugged. "I find it ironic that they're holding a media gathering in the library. I'm not sure if I should expect somebody to shush me when I ask a question."
"Remember that time back in Stars Hollow …"
"And Kirk was the librarian." Rory cut in, "how could I forget. He shushed at everybody … even when he's out of the library!" She rolled her eyes in merry amusement.
"I remember that time when I was at Doose's trying to find a pineapple in the middle of January on Luke's order, because of your mother's request. Which isn't surprising at all." Rory shrugged in agreement. "And out of the blue, Kirk bolted in, came up to Taylor and told him, in front of all his patrons, that his copy of Little Women was three weeks overdue."
"Don't forget the part where he threw a hissy fit."
"Yeah, that was the funniest thing I've ever seen. Bar none. Taylor's face just puffed up and he looked like he was going to strangle Kirk."
Rory wanted to remind him that the funniest librarian Kirk moment came when he walked in on them making out next to the gardening books section. Ever since that time, Kirk insisted on following them whenever they're in the library and sometimes he was so close that they could hear him breathe. The sudden quietness of the room indicated that Jess remembered that part as well.
Rory quickly changed the topic again. "Seeing that you're leaving, why don't we sit down and have a home cook meal tonight. Just the two of us, and I'll rent a couple of movies so we can pig out on popcorn afterwards. We haven't sat down and share a proper meal together for a while."
"By home cook, you mean I'm going to cook, right?"
"Hey, I can cook too." She pulled her face into a petulant pout. "I know how to make mac and cheese."
"Let's stop for a minute and remember that time you try to make mac and cheese alright. We nearly have to call the fire department. And it wasn't even regular mac and cheese, it was easy mac. Easy mac! Food doesn't come any simpler than that!"
Rory stuck out her tongue on account that she couldn't come up with a response. "It was a one time thing! Fine. I admit that you're the only person capable of cooking in this household."
"Thank you. Now is there a particular request?"
"I want eggplant parmesan! Ooo ooo ooh, and I want it with egg noodles too!"
"I'll go grocery shopping later then. But, I can't do it tonight though. Me, Matt and the boys are going to the Death Cab show."
"I'm still peeved that you didn't get me a ticket." She huffed.
"Hey, Death Cab tickets are hard to get ever since Ben Gibbard did that Postal Service stint. Besides, Matt was the one that bought the tickets. Blame him."
"Excuses, excuses." Rory rolled her eyes. "How about tomorrow night?"
"Tomorrow night is fine by me."
Suddenly, the blinking digital lights caught Rory's attention. She realized that the reminiscing had taken way too long and now she only has time to get coffee before work. She sat up and quickly checked herself in the mirror. She planted a quick kiss on Jess's forehead before she scurried out of his room repeatedly muttering "crap!" Jess shook his head at her time management skills or the lack or thereof and adjusted the pillows. Now that Rory's gone, maybe he could go back to sleep. He reminded himself that the kiss meant nothing, it was just one of their affectionate gestures.
He shouldn't think too much about it.
~*~*~*~
After walking the few blocks between the cafe and the library, Rory found the air-conditioned environment of the library immensely welcoming. Though she was by no means late, a healthy thong of reporters have already gathered around the podium with their notepad and tape recorder out. A few photographers were engaged in playful shoving in order to claim the best vantage point. Their competitive attitude felt at odds with the jovial giant Winnie the Pooh paintings on the wall.
She scanned the crowd quickly hoping to find Joanna among them. Perhaps they could find some time before the press conference for small talk. The hectic pace of their job made it quite difficult for her to get acquainted with the photographer. It wasn't as if she never saw Joanna after their initial introduction. But they always seemed to run into each other in the most inappropriate times. It was always in a hallway or in the lobby or in some other equally random locations when either one of them needed to run off to an assignment or interview.
After scanning the room more carefully this time, Rory found her photog leaning against the wall next to a potted ficus tree, casually distancing herself from the commodity.
Jo pushed herself off the wall as she approached and gestured at the restless crowd, "If I didn't get the press package, I'd think they're flash mobbing here." Then she took notice of what was in Rory's hands, "Is that coffee?"
"I heard you like yours black." Joanna accepted the coffee from her. Rory gulped down her vanilla latte.
"Thank you. I worked at a coffee shop for two years. This is the only thing that does it for me."
"Well, I consider coffee dependence a vital aspect of our job." Rory leaned against the wall right next to her. "How are you liking this?"
"The job? I like it. It's different than my internship gig where I had to crouch the in rainforest for 5 hours wait for the perfect shot of a lemur." She took a sip of the coffee, "They weren't that far off when they call this the concrete jungle. I guess there are some fundamental similarities between here and there. But I'm still trying to get use to the pace of the city."
"Well, it does try to live up to its name as the city that never sleep. It took me a while to get use to the pace too. Especially the traffic."
"I know! Everybody here has a permanent case of road rage. That day, I almost got clipped by a cab on my way to an interview."
They both giggled at the thought. She could imagine the colourful language coming out of the girl's mouth and the unfortunate cabbie on the receiving end of it. "I assume you're not a New York native."
"God no. I can't imagine growing up here. Too chaotic." She thought for a moment, "I grew up in Cambridge, Massachusetts. My father was a professor there. What about yourself?"
"Small town USA, about half an hour drive away from Hartford, Connecticut. Actually, my grandparents still live in Hartford."
"Hartford huh. I used to know somebody from there."
But before Rory could decipher that look on her face, somebody materialized into the room and took up the spot behind the podium. Both girls immediately sprang into action mode as one whipped out the recorder and the other removed the lens cap from the camera. And for the next little while, both focused on the work at hand and paid little attention to their unfinished conversation.
The room slowly emptied out after the questioning period concluded about an hour later. People were no doubt rushing off to their offices to finish writing the article. As more and more people left, Rory was surprised to find a tall blond figure standing at the very back of the room. She waved at him exuberantly. He hesitated for a moment and squinted at her, as if he was surprised to find her here, but then he quickly waved back. She mouthed, "give me a second" before walking over to where Joanna was standing.
"I better go get these developed." Joanna said as she pulled the canister out of her camera and threw it into her camera bag along with the rest of them.
"Okay." Rory stole a quick glance at him before she added, "If anybody asks, I'm not going back to the office. I'll just e-mail it to Tim when I'm done."
"Sure. See you then." She was riffling through her camera bag and didn't realize that Rory had already left her spot.
On her way out, Jo saw that Rory was kissing someone, presumably her boyfriend. For a brief moment, she thought his outline looked familiar. But she wasn't so sure about it since her head was in the way and she couldn't see his face. Once she left the building, her rational side kicked in and convinced her that she's seeing things again. And that little scene quickly slipped out of her mind.
~*~*~*~
Rory was barely paying attention when Jo walked by them. She had just slipped her arms around him and was placing a kiss on his lips. It was only a split second response, but she clearly felt him tensed up in her arms. She was also a little surprised when he didn't deepen the kiss like he usually would. Suddenly, the dots started to connect together in a terrifying fashion.
Rory awkwardly detangled herself from him and had a full fledge panic attack.
"Oh god! I'm so sorry." She exclaimed. Now that she had a reason to look at him carefully, she saw the small details that escaped her. Though the artfully tousled hair and the blue eyes looked familiar, the person she kissed was clearly Tristan's twin brother. "I didn't mean to …" She madly gestured her hands and she was faintly conscious of the string of incomplete phrases coming out of her mouth. Her eyes were repeating, "Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit!"
"That's okay. It happens a lot more often than you'd think." Christian tried to calm her down. But once he heard his own words, he wondered what he was thinking when he thought the latter comment could make her feel better.
"I just kissed my boyfriend's bother, I don't think that's okay! That's the polar opposite of okay!" She didn't even have the brain capacity to ask him to explain that last part.
Her reply was louder then she intended it to be and it pierced through the silence. She continued to dispense incoherent words in high speed. Christian watched on and didn't know how to respond. He couldn't decide whether to shake her out of her babblings or just step back let her calm down on her own pace.
Finally, after hearing her repeat the word "slut" a few times, he put a stop to it, "Rory, listen to me. The fact that you kissed me was an honest mistake … I hope." He saw Rory's face scrunched up and wished that he didn't make the joke. "Okay, still too early to joke about it. But seeing that Tristan and I look exactly alike and you've, like, met me only once, it's not your fault for mistaking me for him … again." Rory's scrunched up face came back.
Now it's Christian's turn to wave his arms around in a nervous manner. "You know what, I'm not really good with having prolonged conversations with people in a library. Let's try to continue this somewhere else, preferably with more background noise and warm beverages." Upon seeing Rory's frozen expression, he added, "Just nod if you're fine with the idea."
In a state of absolute embarrassment and shock, she nodded and quietly allowed Christian to drag her to a coffee shop around the corner. He sat her in a table next to the window and went off to get their drinks. Rory went on to scold herself for her stupidity until Christian set a cup of hot drink in front of her. Rory took a sip of it, careful to avoid the collision between her nose and the whipped cream. She took a second sip to make sure before she wrinkled her eyebrows.
"I'm sorry, there must have been a mix up. This is a hot chocolate." Christian gave her the "so what?" look. "I usually drink beverages with a higher caffeine content." Nonetheless, she took another sip.
"It's supposed to be hot chocolate. I think caffeine will make you talk too fast. You're hard enough to follow as is."
Rory snuck a peek at his cup, "But you're drinking coffee."
"That's different. This, is to bring me up to your level." She smiled at the idea. "Good to see you smile. I didn't want to be responsible for any sort of permanent frown and then have to explain the reason to my brother."
Upon hearing that, her smile faded a little. "What happened today …"
"Will stay between the two of us. Unless you're one of those people who adhere to an exaggerated version of 'honesty' in a relationship, cause if that's the case, give me some time to skip town before you tell Tris." Though he sounded like he was joking, Rory could tell he was partially serious.
"Will 48 hours be good enough?"
"Airline connection is a bitch. Give me 72. That should be enough time for me to skip around a few continents and find a remote island to settle down." He reciprocated the deadpan expression.
"I was thinking of what you said earlier. I've only met you twice yet I managed to mistake you for Tristan both times. Those kind of odds are clearly not in my favor. So, is there a visible characteristic or something for me to make sure I don't make the same mistake again?"
He thought about it for a while, "How about this, I have a chip on my front tooth from rugby. You can always check for that."
She checked his grin and surely, a small corner of his front tooth was chipped off. "Man, your teachers must have had a field day trying to tell the two of you apart."
"Well, my mom refused to dress us up in identical clothes. So for most part, people only need to figure out who's who in the morning and they're good for the rest of the day."
"What about uniforms?"
"Well, by then our friends got used to us and they were pretty good at telling us apart. After a while, it got even simpler when I moved to England."
"You grew up in England?"
"Yeah, I moved there with mom when I was 10. I didn't come back until I graduated university."
Now that he mentioned it and she knew to look for it, she could hear the nuisances and shadows of a public school accent. She'd remember this along with the chipped tooth the next time she saw either one of the DuGrey brothers.
"This would certainly explain why I never saw you nor heard of you in Chilton."
Rory knew that Mrs. DuGrey moved to England after the divorce. Tristan only told her the barest outline of that. She assumed that's because the divorce was a sore spot for him. And she always knew that Tristan seldom talked about his brother for whatever reasons. Still, she was surprised that he never brought up the part where Christian went along with his mother.
Christian seemed to be able to read her thoughts when he offered an explanation.
"See the thing with Tris and I is that we're twins, we had that whole cliché telepathically linked deal going on. But in truth we only lived under the same roof for 10 years, give or take a few summer vacations. We lived in two different countries in two different continents and we're both too busy with life to keep up with each other. So, for a good long time, both him and I are not used to having a brother around." There were also other reasons that sparked a brief period of animosity. That, he wasn't ready to tell her. "That's probably explained why he seldom brought me up in conversations."
Rory Gilmore had always been Tristan's obsession back in high school and he would always describe a certain gesture or endearing qualities of hers to his grandfather. Of course some of these details were leaked to him when Christian talked to his grandfather. Even though all those Rory stories that his Grandfather told him made him feel like he knew her all along, he didn't want to tell her everything. Yet.
"But I saw the way the two of you talk back at the party and you guys looked amicable."
"See that's the good thing about the distance. We used to fight a lot when we were kids. We fought over toys, the last cookie on the plate, which of us get to play on the swings, you know, the whole gamut. But after I moved, I was only able to come home for a few weeks during the summer vacations and it felt so silly to fight. It was a terrible waste of time when we could instead do things a little bit more constructive. Think about it, if we end up holding a grudge against each other, that means we can't really resolve it until he comes to visit me during Christmas or me coming home during summer. 5 months is a long time to hold any grudge and we both knew better." He told her absentmindedly as he tracked the movements of the people on the other side of the window. Suddenly, he was aware of her, "I'm sorry if I'm boring you to death."
"No, that's okay. I don't mind knowing more about him. It's just, I know this sounds silly, but I always have a feeling that he knows more about me than I do of him."
Christian wanted to tell her that Tristan had a ten-year head start on her when it came to obsessing over her. But he knew better than to freak her out or make his brother come off as a stalker. Instead, he offered, "He likes you very much. I can tell."
"Me too. It's just … I have no trouble knowing Tristan. I know the way he likes his waffles, his favourite jacket, or that time when he fell off the tricycle when he was four. But that's it. It's all only about Tristan. I know little about you, or your parents … you know, the big things." She fiddled with her napkin and rolled it into a little ball. "It feels like I know him, yet … I don't."
"Hey, if you want, Tristan and I are planning to have dinner with grandpa this Friday. Why don't you come hang out with us?"
Christian stuttered half way through when he realized that he just put his foot into his big mouth when he offered to introduce his brother's girlfriend to his grandfather. Something that he should leave Tristan to do. But his continued on with the invitation anyways. There was no turning back "I'm sure Grandpa would be delighted to finally have a face to connect to the name. He can tell you all about Tristan starting with the sonogram pictures. You might even get sick of hearing about him by the end of the night. Not to mention the cook is super awesome. He does this spectacular pan-fried sole, and I have yet to taste anything better in the city."
"Friday? As in tomorrow night?"
This wasn't the first time she had to pick between Tristan and Jess. Deep down, she felt bad for blowing off Jess so many times and she knew her roommate deserved better. Not to mention Jess would be gone for a month and this would be the last time she would see him before he left. But at the same time, she couldn't resist the opportunity to finally meet the fabled DuGrey patriarch or to know more of Tristan's family.
"Yeah, tomorrow night. I know I'm cutting it close." He saw her hesitation. "I'm sorry. It's probably too early for meet the grandparents huh. Just pretend I never offered that."
"Oh no. I'd be equally delighted to meet your grandfather. Tristan said many fine things of him. It's just, I promised to have dinner with my roommate." She pursed her lips and thought about it. "But you know what, I see him everyday and I'm sure he won't mind if I blow him off this one time."
"Good. We start dinner at 8, so you have plenty to get there after work."
"I'll still have to run this over with Tristan." If he finally called her back after the numerous messages she left on his voicemail. "But yeah, I'm sure we can make it. So, I have a little question. When that happened and you tried to pacify me by telling me that it happens a lot of often than I think. What was that suppose to mean?"
He gave her a smirk that she swore was identical to Tristan's. Perhaps it was genetic. "I'll let Tris explain that to you. I don't what to reveal all his secrets at once."
She was going to comment on his smirk when her cellphone started ringing. Rory was going to let it skip to voicemail, but Christian stood up and put on his jacket, "Why don't you answer the phone. I have an 4:30 appointment and I should go and prepare for that anyways."
"Okay. I'll probably see you tomorrow night then." She waved back at him as she answered the phone. "Hello."
"Hey it's me."
Rory cringed at the voice. She was hoping to tell Jess later when she saw him at home. She needed time to formulate her sentences properly before so she could let him down easier. "Hey. What's up."
"Well, I'm at the grocery store" He said as he threw a can of diced tomatoes into the basket, "and apparently, egg noodles came in a variety of widths and sizes. There's also barley egg noodles and toasted barley egg noodles. I think only Martha Stewart could tell the differences between those. So, any special requests or should I just close my eyes and pick one?"
She didn't know how to say it, so she just said it. "I just saw Christian today, and he invited me over to dinner with his grandfather tomorrow." She didn't need to go any further and Jess already knew what she was getting at.
"You don't have to worry about me." His automatic reply rolled out easily. Jess almost fooled himself with that.
"You sure? Because we can still have dinner together tomorrow night. All you have to do is say it."
Jess was tempted to say it, just to see if she was really willing to pick him before her boyfriend. But he knew better. "Nah. Don't worry. Go have dinner with the DuGreys. I can always go out with Matt. It's no big deal." He said that, even though it felt like a big deal.
"Okay, I'll see you when I come home then." She felt both guilty and relieved.
"You probably won't catch me. I'm leaving early for the concert because there's no assigned seating. By the way, I can pick up the disposable razors while I'm here. So you don't have to." There was an unavoidable bitterness to his tone.
"Oh. Well, I'll see you later tonight or tomorrow then. Bye, have fun at the concert." She said timidly before she put away her phone. Rory couldn't help but wonder if he's punishing her by shutting her out. Because if he did, she deserved it.
Jess put the phone away in his back pocket. He knew that he was no longer on the very top when it came to Rory's list of priorities. And he accepted that. But he still couldn't fight back the harsh taste of disappointment when he returned that can of tomatoes back on the shelf. Perhaps he was making things harder than they really should be.
Or perhaps he had trouble letting it go.