Collide – Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Title and song by Howie Day. Not mine.

Summary: A look into the future.

A/N: Thanks to Ari, you are awesome! And all the Lits, too. :D hugs

I'm open, you're closed

Where I follow, you'll go

I worry I won't see your face

Light up again

She looks at herself in his bathroom mirror and decides that she looks as good as she possibly can, considering the fact that she is wearing the same pants that she wore the day before and that she had only ran her fingers through her hair and washed her face this morning.

She wonders when she'll be home, or what she'll wear while her jeans are being washed, or what will happen as days pass and she makes her decision and he makes his. Will things go back to the way they were before? A quote pops into her head: 'Everything changes, nothing stays the same.' Well, could it ever be close to how it was before? she ponders.

She opens the door to the bathroom and walks into the kitchen, where she stands silently and watches as he sets the ingredients for the waffles onto the counter. She watches him move with precision as he gets out a bowl and starts to measure things and pour them into it. After a minute passes, she decides to make her presence known. "I'm dressed."

"I know," he says without turning around.

"How did you know I was standing here? Did you hear me?" she questions.

He shakes his head. "I could just…sense that I was being watched."

"Oh…" She takes a step forward. "Can I do anything to help?" she volunteers.

He finally turns to look at her. "That shirt wasn't in one of my drawers."

"Yes it was," she argues.

He shakes his head. "That was hanging in the closet."

She smirks. "Maybe so."

"I wore that the first time you came here," he states.

She looks up at him. "And now I'm wearing it during the second time that I've come here."

There eyes locked for a moment before his flickered away. "Uh… can you… get out the bacon?"

She nods and opens up the refrigerator.

"It's in the top drawer," he directs.

She pulls it out and sets the package of bacon onto the counter.

"Now what?"

He looks around. "You can put the flour away."

"Where does it go?" she asks.

He motions his head towards a cabinet on his left. "Up there."

She walks over and just as she is about to open the cabinet, she steps on something wet and starts to slip. She screams and he quickly turns around, catching her just in time to prevent her from landing on the floor, the bag of flour flies up and out of her hands, distributing itself all over the kitchen.

They find their lips only inches apart and they both slowly move in closer, as if to kiss. The two concurrently realize what is happening and quickly pull away from each other.

They look everywhere but at one another.

"I must have spilt water on the floor when I was making the coffee," he says hurriedly.

She nods. "I'm going to go find a newspaper, i've gotta keep up with the current events," she says, quickly turns around, and heads to the door. She steps outside, closes it and tries to catch her breath.

She looks up and spots a woman walking a dog, and it reminds her of the night before, which she wills herself to think about, as she walks slowly around the building.

She stared intently out the window. She had the need to concentrate on something; the need to distract herself and get away from the matter at hand. She crossed her arms over her chest in a way she found comforting, and forced her eyes to focus on a tree in the distance.

Although it was nearing nine o'clock, the summer sunshine lit up the sky, leaving an orange, iridescent look that fascinated her. She switched her attention from the tree to the sky and tilted her head sideways up against the window, so that she could look up. He looked over at her, amused, and opened his mouth to comment, but found himself suddenly afraid to break the wall of silence that separated them.

After a few minutes the sun set and it became dark, leaving Rory with nothing to do but the one thing that she had been trying desperately to avoid: think. Without noticing it, she sighed uneasily.

What am I doing here? Why am I here? Should I be here? What am I thinking? What is he thinking? Why did he leave in the first place? How is this going to work out? All of these questions and more cluttered her brain and she shut her eyes. I can't answer any of those questions, she told herself stubbornly, I suppose only time will tell.

But if it doesn't work then this all will have been a waste of time, she mentally stated, and what if he doesn't want this? What if he leaves mysteriously like he did before? No, she argued back, he won't… will he?

"W-," Will you, she started to ask, but realized that she had actually said that aloud and put her hand over her mouth.

He looked over at her and raised an eyebrow. "What?"

She was grateful that it was by now pitch black and he could not see her face to notice it turn a lively shade of red as she blushed. "Oh, nothing."

He rolled his eyes and looked back to the road. She began to tap her fingers softly on the arm rest, and then slowly the noise became louder and louder. "So…" She struggled to break the silence. "How long have you been in New York?" She finally asked.

This caught him surprisingly off guard and he frowned. "Uh… a few months."

"Oh." She started to tap her fingers again. "Why didn't you stay in California?"

He became noticeably uncomfortable and shifted his hands to a different position on the steering wheel. He shrugged, "It didn't work out. I mean, we got along okay, but I just didn't…fit." He attempted to lighten the mood, "I was also worried that I might choke to death from smog inhalation or something."

She smiled for a second and then turned her head away from him so that he couldn't see her face as she asked the next question. "Why didn't you call me when you got back?"

He turned to look at her, to maybe get a hint of what she was thinking, but she was focusing out the window. "You mean when I got back from California? Or when I got to California?" She didn't answer. "Well, It was…awkward after that last phone conversation… you said you weren't going o pine or anything, so I knew that you'd do as you said and probably wouldn't ever want to talk to me again."

"Oh." She looked down at her lap. "That wasn't true…"

A few seconds of silence passed and they both thought about what Rory had said when he had called her cell phone at graduation.

"I'm sorry," They both said simultaneously and although neither of them gave reason for apologizing, they both separately knew what the other person was saying.

They looked at each other and their eyes locked. He nodded and she smiled.

"So how was California?" she asked a little while later.

He smirked. "Smoggy, hot…"

"Lot's of 'babes' there?" she asked, making quotation marks with her hands as she said babes.

"Oh sure," he said nodding. "There was this one, she had short blond hair and she was pretty built. Nearly knocked me down when we first met, really feisty."

Rory huffed. "I did not want to know that."

He rolled his eyes and smirked. "She's a dog."

"Oh, that's really nice. A female dog?"

He nodded.

"Jess!" she exclaimed. "I can't believe you! I bet she'd really like to know that she's being called a bitch. Is she a slut too?"

"Well… she's has about 6 kids…" he told her, unable to resist.

Her jaw dropped. "She what…?! How old is she?"

Jess shrugged and struggled to keep a straight face. "She slept in my bed a few times…"

She started to shake her head. "No more. I do NOT want to hear anymore about your sex life. No thank you," she said, holding up her hands.

He laughed. "Rory, she's a dog."

She placed her hands over her ears. "La, la, la, la."

"I mean she's really an animal. She barks…"

She looked at him with widened eyes. "Did you make her use a whip too? I don't need to know about your sex toys or whatever you'd like to call them!"

Jess chuckled. "Will you just listen to me? She has four legs; she's one of my dad's girlfriend's pets. A dog…"

She put her hands over her face. "Evil boy," she said.

"Hey, it's not my fault, I tried to explain…"

She glared at him.

"You've gotta admit, it was pretty funny."

She laughed. "That was so mean."

He smirked and then pulled into a parking lot. "We're here."

She re-entered his apartment, ten minutes after having left, empty-handed.

"Couldn't find a newspaper?" he asked, looking up from a book, as he sat at his table eating.

"Oh, no…" She walked over to the table as she saw a plate sitting across from him.

She sat down and started to eat.

"Uh, listen…" he said, not looking up. "I didn't mean to…"

She nodded. "I know. We just got…caught up in the moment."

"Right, it won't happen again."

Rory thought about that as she ate. 'It won't happen again.' But what if I want it to happen again? Why do I find myself wanting what didn't happen, to happen?

A/N: Reviews are kind and are good for the mind. :P