Chapter 5: Passion

Paris wanted to skip classes. Nothing seemed to interest her suddenly. History was a bunch of wars with names that made no sense. Calculus was giving her a headache. English didn't sound like the language she was used to speaking.

And worst of all, it didn't matter to her that her thoughts kept drifting and her attention was waning.

All she could think about was the way Jess had kissed her while they were suspended in the air on the Ferris wheel. He hadn't kissed her goodnight when he dropped her off but she didn't mind – too much. She had that one kiss to get her through the night and most of her classes in the day.

His lips had been soft against hers, not like the first time when they were demanding and hot. This kiss had meant something more than proving a point. His roughened fingers brushed gently across her cheek while one hand tugged lightly at her hair.

She heard bells.

No, that was dismissal.

"Your assignment is due tomorrow," her physics teacher reminded as the class started to file out, chattering amongst themselves. She looked around sheepishly, glad that neither Louise nor Madeline were in her last period class to have witnessed how inattentive she had been.

At her locker however, her two oldest friends flogged her on each side, brows raised in anticipation and a hint amusement in their eyes. She decided to ignore them and continued emptying her bag.

Louise, of course was the first one to speak. "How are you today, Paris?"

"You asked me that this morning," Paris reminded her, not looking up.

"Yes but so much can happen between now and then," she shot back.

"Or last night," Madeline chimed in.

"If it happened last night I would have told you this morning when you asked me," Paris replied elusively as she shut her locker and slung her bag over her shoulder. Her two friends blocked her path, looking unconvinced. "Move."

"Tell us where you were last night," Louise challenged.

Paris glared at the blonde and then the brunette before making her way around them, walking fast in hopes of getting away. Of course, they followed.

"We have ways of finding out," Madeline stated from behind.

"Good. I hope you plan on working for the CIA."

"Were you hanging out with Rory?" Louise guessed as they exited the building.

Ah, a cop out. Why didn't she think about it before? "Yes, I was with Rory."

"Nope. She was on a date with Tristan," Madeline informed.

Louise feigned hurt. "Paris, you lied to us."

"I'm sure you'll heal," she retorted as she headed for the parking lot. She located her car and then turned around. Louise and Madeline were still there. "What? Are you going to follow me home?"

"I don't have anything to do," Louise shrugged.

"We have no lives," the brunette confirmed with a sweet smile.

"You're pathetic," Paris huffed, her hands on her hips.

"And you've been daydreaming all day. What we'd like to know is that why you, Paris Gellar – whose only ambition in life is to go to Harvard and then rule the entire free world – is suddenly…off in her own little world?" Louise asked curiously.

"You went out with him again, didn't you?" Madeline stated without hesitation.

"Who?" she asked innocently.

"You know him."

Louise clarified. "Dark, messy hair, a full luscious mouth that's twisted in a semi-smirk, penetrating brown eyes, jeans, an army T-shirt under a navy blue one with those little name tags embroidered at the side. Even in those horrid clothes, he's sexy."

Madeline's eyebrows furrowed in confusion and awe. "Wow, that was descriptive."

"It was easy," Louise hitched her head, looking over Paris' shoulder. "He's standing right there."

Paris immediately whipped around to see Jess looking completely out of place as he leaned against his Uncle's beat-up truck, hands in pockets, laughing silently at the entire scene in front of him. When he caught her gaze, he merely raised an eyebrow and widened his smirk into smile.

"Is that Mr. Dangerous?"

"Jess is not dangerous," Paris said over her shoulder, but her response lacked the edge that she intended. Quickly she turned around to avoid looking at him and opened her car door, depositing her bag on the driver's seat. Her thoughts were jumbled. Why is he here?

"So you are dating him," Madeline concluded. "Are you sleeping with him?"

"Madeline!" Paris warned harshly.

"Yeah, that didn't sound like you."

"If you're not doing him," Louise said she continued to stare at Jess from across the courtyard with frank female appreciation. "Can I?"

Paris slammed her car door shut and narrowed her eyes irritably. "He doesn't like bottle blondes."

Louise simply smirked. "Ooh lust makes you bitchy."

Her eyes widened wondering if her feelings were so blatant. But she remained defensive. "It's not like that." Liar, liar, pants on fire…

"You're female, you're hot-blooded and as far as I know you like boys," Louise announced. "And that guy over there…he's making you feel all kinds of lust."

"What are you doing still standing here talking to us?" Madeline asked as she pushed Paris away from her car. "Go and ask him what he wants. Although, I'll give you three guesses..."

"Are you sure?" Paris asked nervously. "I mean, what if he's here to pick up Rory?"

"Rory has Tristan to drop her home now."

"Yeah but Tristan lives so far away," she argued uselessly.

"Paris, darling. Never keep a man waiting too long. Their attention spans are about this much." Louise demonstrated by holding her thumb and index finger a half an inch apart. "Now go. And call me later with details."

"Fine," Paris said with a sigh. She straightened herself out, squared her shoulders and forced her feet to move. When she drew close, Jess pushed off the truck and took his hands out his pockets. "Hi Jess."

"Hey Paris. So you go here."

She looked over at Chilton. "Yes."

"Preppy."

"It's a prep school," she replied dryly. "And what you meant was arrogant."

"Do you deny it?" he challenged.

Her lips twisted into a reluctantly smile. "No."

"Jess! What are you doing here?" Rory asked suddenly showed up behind him before either one of them could say anything else. Her brow was furrowed in worry. "Is everything okay?"

"Rory," Jess stated blandly. "I was in the neighborhood. Thought I'd stop by check Chilton out for myself."

He's just stopping by to see the school Rory goes to, she thought to herself. He's not here for you.

"But you've seen if before," Rory reminded him.

Paris looked up to see him look guilty for just a second before her nodded at her impassively. "I forgot how it looked."

"Right," Rory smirked slightly and Paris couldn't help but flush a little. "I'll see you two later."

When she left, Jess turned to Paris again and started to smile a little, looking uncomfortable. "She really knows how to put someone on the spot, doesn't she?"

She nodded. "It's always the quiet ones."

He ran a hand through his hair and looked like he was thinking of how to express himself. "Have you ever played laser tag?"

"Excuse me?"

He nodded slowly and then clarified. "I thought that you might not have. See there's this great place a good twenty minutes from here…it's an arcade. I was wondering if you'd like to come with me."

"Right now?" she asked, still trying to figure out what he was trying to do.

"Yes," he grinned. "Now would be good. Luke's having dinner with Lorelai's parents tonight and he's pretty ticked off about it and he ordered me to take the night shift at the diner. So my plans for dinner and a movie are kinda out the proverbial window."

"We were going to go for dinner and a movie?" she asked pleased.

"Were being the operative word," he shook his head a little. "So? What do you say?"

She looked down at her uniform and frowned. "I'll need to change."

"I figured you'd say that. We'll stop by your place first."

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

"Your lack of uneasiness with a gun scares me," Jess quipped as the handed back their laser tag gear to the assistant. "And your aim. Is there something I should know?"

She shook her head. "There's an annual Archery competition at the Country Club. My mother used to make me participate."

"Why is it like that with you?" he asked curiously as they exited the arcade. She stared at him confused. "Why do you do things that your mother makes you do? Or Chilton makes you do."

"Because it's required," she said defensively.

"With your mother?"

"It's complicated," she replied shortly.

"Then explain it to me," he stated evenly.

"Why are you so keen on knowing?" she asked as they got back into his truck.

"Because it seems like to me that you are doing things to make others happy. You want to go to Harvard because everyone expects that from you, you took up archery because she wanted you to – and sounds to me like you don't even like it."

"I'm good at it."

"There's a difference between being good at something and liking it," he explained as he started the car and pulled out of the arcade's parking lot. "I mean you're a dedicated to studying, I get that but there has to be an outlet."

"An outlet for what?" she asked angrily.

"For your passion."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she replied distractedly and then fastened her seatbelt. "My passion lies in my ambition – in my schoolwork."

"Okay," he conceded because she looked like she was going to explode, but still remained unconvinced. "I guess that's a good passion to have."

"I know it is."

"I didn't disagree," he pointed out. Silence fell over them and he needed to find some way to break it. Suddenly, he saw a familiar restaurant and had an idea. "You hungry?"

"Starving, actually."

"Hot dogs?" he asked as he pulled into the drive-thru.

"Are they any good?" she looked apprehensive.

"Why don't you try one and then tell me," he suggested and then ordered two hot dogs with everything on it and two sodas.

A few minutes later, she was bit into her bun and chewed, an expression of bliss taking over her features. "You know where to find the best food!"

"And it doesn't even cost a lot," he agreed, amused. "Wow, you sure like food."

Her eyes widened as she looked at him. She chewed, swallowed and wiped her mouth with a paper napkin. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He thought of his words and realized they sounded offensive. "I mean you seem to enjoy food."

She flushed faintly. "Oh."

"Some might say you even have a passion for it."

She laughed and took a bite of her hot dog. Keeping one hand on the wheel, he glanced at her and made a resolution. He was sure that Paris Gellar was a very passionate person – he could prove it by the way she had responded to his kiss in her father's study. He would just have to try harder to tap into her zeal and spontaneity. It was something he was looking forward to.