Believe Me, I'll Be There

Chapter 10 – So now I've realized

Disclaimer: Yet again: I don't own anything to do with Gilmore Girls, any book or author references, or any colleges.

A/N: Again, sorry it took so long to get this up. I was on spring break, so I couldn't update. However, I wrote 3 chapters of this story and started a new one, all of which should be up soon. The 1st chapter of my new story, Connecticut Writers, is already up. Thanks a LOT to everyone who's reviewed!! I always get really excited when I read them. I know there's not that much action in this chapter, but I actually like the way it turned out, so I hope you all like it! Also, I know there's no mail on Sunday. But pretend, for the purposes of this story, that there is mail on Sunday. On with the story!  ~Arianna

I constantly found my mind wandering to seeing Jess on the bridge, talking to him outside the bookstore. His line "Didn't want Luke to see me cry" kept ringing over and over in my head. I was continually 'rewriting' my apology in my mind. I didn't tell anyone. But at least, I wasn't scared to go into the diner anymore.

On Sunday, Mom got a call from Sookie at 7 am. Apparently there was an emergency at the Inn. Something about people demanding new rooms. She left as quickly as possible, telling me she should be back sometime that afternoon and to have fun.

I went to Luke's.

Okay, I said I wasn't scared to go into the diner. But that didn't mean that seeing Jess, who I used to be closer to than anyone except my mom, and not being able to even really talk to him, wasn't both uncomfortable and hard to deal with. I wanted coffee, though. And…what were the chances that he'd be there? Did I want him to be there?

I walked in and looked around. Jess wasn't there. In fact, the only people there were Luke and a couple sitting quietly in the corner. I sat down at the counter.

"Hi Luke, coffee please," I said.

"Hi, Rory," he replied, getting a cup for me.

"So," I said. "Um, how's the…diner business?"

"Oh, it's good," Luke said, nodding. "I know I'm not great at asking this…but are you okay?"

I shrugged. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Luke looked at me, skeptically, for a while. I drank some coffee. "What?"

"He's okay, for the most part," Luke told me.

"What?" I repeated.

"That's the 'I wanna know how Jess is but I don't wanna ask you' look," he explained, setting the pot of coffee on the stove and grabbing a rag to clean the counter. I shifted uncomfortably on the chair.

"No it's not…"

"You might as well say you hate coffee."

I looked down, into the cup, but I could feel him staring at me. "That was some fight you guys had."

At that I looked up again. "So you heard it?"

He shrugged. "Most of it, I guess."

"I know he didn't," I said at last.

"Yeah."

"I told him."

Luke was silent for a while. "He wouldn't want you to hate him," he said finally.

"I know," I replied. "I don't. I never did." I waited. "So how is he?"

"He's gonna hate that I told you." I said nothing. Luke gave in. "He was pretty upset."

"I know," I whispered.

"He's still upset."

"I am too…I don't know what to do without talking to him. We used to be so close…"

"Who says you won't be? You got into a fight, that happens to everybody."

"I guess…" It wasn't just a fight, though. It was me accusing Jess of something he hadn't done. "Do you think I wrecked everything?"

"No, of course not," he answered.

"I can't believe I yelled at him like that…I never even really thought he did it."

"It's not as if you didn't have a reason," Luke said, trying to comfort me. "You're not the only one who's…said something like that. And several times he had done it."

"It's different!" I protested. "No one else has ever trusted him—I was the one he—he showed me the real Jess."

"The real Jess?"

"He reads Jane Austen, he tells me I'm good enough for any college—" I couldn't keep talking.

"He did?"

I nodded.

"It's true."

"Thanks, Luke." I tried to smile. Then I gave up. "But no one else even said anything! Taylor, but—I'm—" I caught myself, even thought I wished I didn't have to. "I was Jess' girlfriend! And his best friend… I'm supposed to know him better than anyone."

"Rory, you do know him better than anyone."

He was right. "I know that. But I didn't act like it, and I hurt him—"

"You're one of the few people in the world Jess cares about. He won't admit it, but he misses you, Rory."

"Really?" I asked softly.

"Yeah."

I looked at my watch. "Hey, I guess I'd better go, my mom's gonna be home soon—"

"See you tomorrow."

"Probably later tonight," I called back.

"Hey…" Luke looked like he was about to say something, but then he didn't. I walked back over to him.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Luke…" He didn't answer; just continued wiping the counter. "Well, thanks," I said.

He looked up. "I was going to say…well…" He looked uncomfortable. "Jess isn't mad at you, and you're not mad at him…"

I did smile then. "Yeah. See you later." I left the diner and walked home, feeling better. I didn't stop to wonder where Jess was…Probably at the bridge.

When I got home, my mom was sitting on the couch, reading.

"Hey, you got home early," I said.

"Yeah, it wasn't that much of an emergency after all." She smiled. "Hey, Rory. The mail just came. And Kirk had a really hard time getting it all into the mailbox." Mom was looking more and more excited.

I forgot everything that had just happened. "Really?"

"Yeah, come on, let's go!"

"Let's go!"

We rushed outside and stood on either side of the mailbox.

"You ready?" Mom asked.

"Yes," I replied, trying to sound confident. She leaned over and opened the mailbox, and I reached over to take out two large envelopes. "Oh my God," I whispered. "Harvard. Yale."

"Rory, you got in!"

"I got in!" I stood there, smiling, holding the envelopes tightly. Then it all hit me. "Jess was right," I said quietly.

"Oh, Rory…"

This is what I've been hoping for, for so long…but now there's something I want just as much. I heard Luke's voice again: "Jess isn't mad at you, and you're not mad at him…"

Luke was right. I had to talk to Jess. Really talk to him, not just say hi and then leave. I couldn't live with myself if I didn't. And standing there, looking at my future in two envelopes, the best letters I'd ever gotten—I realized how much I missed Jess.

Now that I thought about it—Jess' letters from New York, to me, were just as good as these were.