A/N: Not as many reviews as I would like, but from what I did get, I was happy. Thanks a lot!
Disclaimer: Go ahead, go ahead. Call the police, but this statement I'm saying right here is my proof.
Reminder: Rory has long hair still. Remember?
Chapter 12. Yet Again
"How did you get here?" She asked quietly, her head on his chest, face up, looking at him. "I didn't see your car in the driveway…?"
Tristan started to play with her hands with his own. "I parked a little out of the town. Didn't want to give myself away with a fancy car, now would I? Luckily for you, you left your window slightly open; that's how I got in."
She played with his hands also. "How did you get here before me? I mean, he was blazing down the freeway. He probably had somewhere to be…"
"I skipped last period, changed my clothes…"
"Mm, you can copy my notes."
"Good."
They lay in silence the next few moments, thinking about what had just happened. They just had sex, again. How… did this happen? Tristan swore to himself that he was going to leave her alone. Just go back to his original thing. Not to get in the way.
"We should get up," Rory stated, getting into a sitting position.
Tristan closed his eyes at what he saw. "Rory…" he started, quietly, "what's on your back?"
She looked and winced. "Um… well, I…"
"He did it to you, didn't he?"
She got up, pulling the comforter around her. "It doesn't make any difference."
He sat up as well, picking up his boxers off the floor. "It makes all the difference." He stood and put the cloth on.
"No, it doesn't."
He walked right up to her and stood in front of her. "Yes, it does."
"No, it doesn't."
"Yes, it does."
"No, it doesn't."
"Yes, it-"
"Why do you care, Tristan?! Why?! It's not like you're involved…!"
This made him fuming. "I am involved, Rory! I am!" Then he got right in her face and spoke softly through his teeth. "The moment I slept with you, it made me emotionally involved. So don't you fucking dare and say that this doesn't concern me, Rory. Because that's shit."
It wasn't until the end that he realized Rory was looking to the ground, tears in her eyes, threatening to come out. And he broke all over again.
He cupped her cheek in his hands. "Hey… don't cry," he said in his warmest voice. "Please… for me…?"
She responded to his touch. "Let's get dressed. I need to meet my mom at Luke's in ten minutes."
They did so.
"I guess I'll be going then…?"
She looked at him with the answer in her eyes, along with an apology.
"I'll see you tomorrow." He crawled out her window, leaving the way he entered.
She ran a hand through her messy hair thinking what she should do to do something, anything.
-- Next Day --
"Whoa… what… happened to you're hair?" Paris asked as she walked out of their first period class.
"I thought it was time for a change… do you like it?"
"It's… really short."
Paris was right. Rory had cut it. It was about to her chin now, but still held its strait-ness. Ron was going to have a fit when he saw, but she needed something different… something that was just… her.
"I know. And a hell of a lot easier to shampoo."
"I hope you don't have plans for this afternoon because we have a lot of work to do for this assignment."
"Tuesday… I'll just have to check something, and then I'll get back to you."
"Ciao." Paris walked a different direction.
All of the sudden Ron appeared by her side.
"God," she jumped.
"What'd you do to your hair?"
"I cut it."
"Did you consult with me, because I don't remember having a phone call…?"
"No, I didn't."
"Huh," he said it with disgust.
"I'm sorry, I should have," she gave up.
He nodded, his point being across. "How did you get to school today?"
"Mom's jeep broke, she took my car, thinking you'd pick me up. Since you didn't, I had to take the bus."
"Something came up."
And then he dismissed the matter.
"What did the bitch have to say?"
"Um… well, she said that our group in Peterson's needs to meet after school today. Is that okay with you?"
"Depends… who's in your group?"
"Paris, Madelyn, Louise, Ben, Riley, and Tristan."
"DuGrey?"
"Yes. That one."
He looked around and then snuck them into a corner off a locker section. "Is there any way you could get out of this?" With every word, he pressed up against her harder.
"I tried, she declined…" she lied, "You're hurting me."
He touched his hand to her face and stroked it. "I'll let you go if you promise me you'll be a good girl."
"I will."
"Promise me," he demanded.
"I promise," she gritted through her teeth.
He pulled away and pulled her out to the hall once more with him, putting his arm around her shoulder.
While they walked, her eyes met up with another blue pair. She smiled with her eyes, not letting it come out of her mouth. He looked at her with questioning eyes, quietly asking her what she had done with her hair. She just walked passed him.
-- After School --
"So, Rory and Tristan, have you got something worked out?"
"What?" Rory asked, looking at Tristan, seeing the same confused face that was on her own.
"Well, you should at least get along together if we are going to make this work," Paris pointed out. "You two are going to have to spend a lot of time together, so you need cell numbers, a schedule… anything really…"
"Um, yeah… right," Tristan thought out loud.
"So, are you?" Paris asked.
"Are we what?" Rory asked back.
"Comfortable together…?"
"Well, um," the two looked at each other, "I guess so."
"Good, like I said, you are going to be spending a lot of time together."
They nodded.
-- After the Meeting --
"Do you need a ride?" somebody had asked her from behind.
She turned around and smiled slightly at who it was.
"I was going to wait for the bus…"
"The bus won't be here for a while. I'd hate for you to stay here that long…?"
She nodded silently, walking toward him.
"Come on, then; it's freezing out here." And with that he led her to his car.
When they both had gotten in, he turned on the heater and radio. When they started to drive, they heard that the freeway was 'bumper-to-bumper.'
"Do you mind if you come over to my house for a while? 'Till it gets cleared up?" Tristan asked.
"I guess not." She said quietly, looking out the window at the scenery. The rain just started.
They sat in silence the rest of the ride and when they finally pulled in the DuGrey residence, she asked, "Would you're parents mind?"
"No, they're not here."
"Oh."
They entered the outsized house, Tristan showing her to his room up the stairs. She followed without saying anything, remembering the last time she was there. She trailed behind him, until he got to his bedroom.
"Do you want to do anything? Like homework?"
"Could I… take a shower? I want to get Paris off of me." She chuckled a bit under her breath.
"Yeah, um… it's right there," he said, pointing across the room to the bathroom connected to his room.
"Thanks a lot." She said, putting down her backpack next to the wardrobe next to the door and hustling to the restroom to cleanse herself.
Tristan walked around his own room and then hit play on his stereo. The Killers played softly in the background as he sat at his desk and started on his homework.
About twenty minutes later, he heard the shower shut off. Then the petite girl that occupied the bathroom stepped out in only a towel. He gazed upon her.
"Um… I don't really want to change back into my uniform just yet…"
"Oh, um… clothes. Right, you need clothes." He stood and walked over and past her to the drawers on the other side of the room. He rummaged through them and pulled out some garments and started walking back towards her.
"I hope these will fit…" he had gotten close to her, he could feel her breath on him, "… you."
She took them out of his hands gently, not breaking contact with his eyes. "Thank you," she said in the softest voice possible and he couldn't take it anymore.
He kissed her… again.
A/N: I had to put the Killers thing in there. I mean, he just looks so much like he would be someone that would listen to The Killers, doesn't he? It took me forever to write this chapter. I was working on it non-stop whenever I would come on the computer. Well, anyways, this was long. I wrote in a smaller font and passed the spot where I usually end with the bigger font. So that's good, right? Review please. Oh yeah, um, you understand with Rory's hair, right? It's like, short. Let's just keep it at short.
Paige
