"When I wake up, well I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who wakes up next to you
When I go out, yeah I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who goes along with you
If I get drunk, well I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who gets drunk next to you
And if I haver, yeah I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who's havering to you
But I would walk 500 miles
And I would walk 500 more
Just to be the man who walked 1,000 miles
To fall down at your door
When I'm working, yes I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who's working hard for you
And when the money, comes in for the work I do
I'll pass almost every penny on to you
When I come home (when I come home), oh I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who comes back home to you
And if I grow old, well I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who's growing old with you"
- I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles) by the Proclaimers
Chapter 5:
Determination. An admirable trait, as it usually aids in people living up to their full potential. It also aids to the stubborn pigheadedness that plagues others. Two very different types of determination for two very different people.
Logan was currently determined to use the full potential of his various connections in order find Rory's cell phone number. That task was going to be monumental, but he had a distinct feeling that it was going to work out in his favor.
As he walked along one of the innumerable paths that Yale was home to, Logan contemplated what exactly his options and means were. He could just ask Rory's roommate, Paris, but truth be told she kind of scared him. That combined with the fact he sorely doubted that she would even speak to him, let alone give him Rory's number.
'I could track down that bartender, Marty I think his name was and ask him for her number,' Logan thought. 'On second thought, maybe not, as I'm pretty sure that he hates my guts, as well as has a thing for Rory, both of which would put a damper on his willingness to help me out.'
Logan continued to ponder his options. He could ask Finn where he could get it, but the chances that Finn would be sober or conscious enough to give him a viable answer were slim. 'Who do I know that knows Rory? Her grandparents! Wait, do I really want to call my mother to get her grandmother's number so that I can ask for her number? I don't think so, too many questions, from both my mother and Emily. That is something I definitely don't want to have to deal with.'
Logan paced around his dorm, trying to come up with a viable option. Then suddenly the answer hit him like a sack of bricks. He walked to table that the phone was resting on, opened up a drawer and pulled out the phonebook. He flipped through the white pages until he found the G's and then ran his finger down the list until he found what he was looking for. Lorelai Gilmore, 37 Maple Street, Stars Hollow, Connecticut. 'Bingo!' thought Logan, picking up the phone and dialing the listed number. It rang for what felt like an eternity before the answering machine picked up and a chipper voice resounded from the other end.
"Hey, you've reached the Gilmore residence. Obviously, we lead busier and more important lives than you do because you're calling us and we're not here! Or we are here and are purposely choosing to ignore your call. Your choice. So leave a message at the tone or go out and buy a potted plant to talk to!" said the voice that Logan assumed belonged to Rory's mother. Or a strange neighbor that broke in and programmed the machine.
Having that attempt thwarted by ill timing, Logan hung up the phone without leaving a message. 'Now what am I going to do?' he thought. Suddenly he was struck with an epiphany (his second of the day, which is pretty impressive). He grabbed his cell phone and his car keys and strode out the door.
After hopping into his car, he pulled a map out of the glove compartment and looked at it to determine the best route from New Haven to Stars Hollow. After figuring it out, he turned his car on and drove out of the parking lot.
Once he was on the road, Logan opened up his phone and dialed Stephanie. After a few rings a disorientated and definitely blonde voice answered the phone.
"Hello?" Stephanie asked from the other end.
"Hey Steph, I was wondering if you could do me a favor," Logan asked.
"How much is this favor going to cost me?"
"What? Who said anything about money?"
"Well, I didn't, but most times that you need a "favor", it requires me to either have to pay with my pride, if not fiscally."
Logan had to think about what Steph said twice, trying to get comprehend the fact that she had just used the word fiscally. Shaking his head it, he continued. "Steph, it won't cost you a thing, I'll pay for it all. I just need you to help Rory get ready for Saturday's LDB event."
"You're inviting reporter girl? I so knew you liked her!" squealed Stephanie.
"Okay, I like her, but the question is, will you help me out?"
"Aw, this is so cute! Of course I'll help you! Especially since it's been ages since you've acted this. I was starting to miss gushy and romantic Logan."
"I think that's enough, Steph. I call you back later with the details, okay? Thanks again. Bye," Logan finished.
"Bye," Steph answered, getting off the phone.
'One thing down, two to go. Now all I need to do is find someone who would be willing to give me Rory's number and then I need to actually call Rory.'
Roughly a half hour later, Logan was driving down what he figured to be the main drag of picturesque town. He looked around him in amazement as he drove past a gazebo, marveling at the people milling about at a gentle pace. 'So this is the place that produced Rory Gilmore. Figures,' Logan thought, pulling into a parking space in front of a restaurant called "Luke's Diner". 'Luke's Diner? That seems as good a place as any to find someone who could help me.'
Logan pushed open the door of the diner and heard a bell ring as he did so. Looking around at the other patrons of the diner, Logan instantly felt horribly out of place. He could safely say that he'd never been in a place like this in his life. And he was pretty sure he looked it. Trying not to look any more uncomfortable than he already was, Logan walked up to the counter and took a seat.
A scruffy looking man in a backwards baseball cap and flannel was behind the counter and he glanced curiously at Logan as he walked over to him. "Can I take your order?" he asked.
"Um, yeah, I'll have an ice tea," Logan replied, nervously.
The man left and came back, handed him the ice tea, and said, "You're not from around here."
"No, sir, I'm not," Logan answered, having no idea why he had just called this man sir. It just seemed like the fact that he was in a very unfamiliar place by himself and sticking out like a sore thumb, made him revert back to his habits from high school, where'd he had still been suave, but dramatically less so.
"Then you won't mind me asking, what brings you here," continued the man.
"I'm looking for someone," Logan answered.
"And who might that someone be? Maybe I could help you, as this is a diner and the majority of the town comes traipsing through here on a daily basis."
"I'm looking for Lorelai Gilmore," upon saying those words, Logan noticed the man behind the counter noticeable stiffen.
"And why would you be looking for Lorelai Gilmore?" asked the man, who appeared to have some sort of relationship with Rory's mother.
Logan was about to respond when a robust woman interrupted them. "Luke, can't you see that you are scaring this beautiful, charming young man?" said the woman to the man in flannel, whom he assumed was Luke, and the same Luke who owned the diner.
"This is none of your business, Patty. This guy is looking for Lorelai," responded Luke, annoyance evident in his tone.
"Well, if he's looking for Lorelai, then why don't you tell him where Lorelai is?" answered the woman, Patty he assumed.
"Because I have no idea why he wants to see Lorelai. He could be coming to kill her or something," replied Luke.
"Can I say something on my behalf? I'm not here to kill Ms. Gilmore. I just want to ask her a question about her daughter. Please, I drove all the way here from New Haven and I just want to ask this one question," Logan said, jumping back into the conversation that was clearly about him.
"Rory? Did you hear that Luke, this young man drove all the way from Yale to talk to Lorelai about Rory? Isn't that romantic? Hun, you can find Lorelai at the Dragonfly Inn," answered Patty.
"Thanks so much for your help. I really should be going," said Logan, slamming a five down on the counter and getting up to leave. He made his way towards the door, grateful to get away from the diner. Especially since he was pretty sure that that Patty woman had grabbed his ass as he was leaving.
Getting back in his car, he called information to get the address of the Dragonfly Inn. He drove in silence, trying to figure out how exactly he was going to go about asking Lorelai what Rory's number was.
He got to the Dragonfly, parked in the lot, and got out of his car. He looked around him and felt like he'd just stepped into a scene from "The Waltons". Things were getting pretty surreal.
Logan walked into the lobby of the inn and up to the front desk, where a well-dressed man was standing flipping through what he assumed was a registrar. He walked up to the counter and began to nervously drum his fingers on the desk, looking around him, until the man spoke to him.
"Can I help you?" asked the man in a drab, French accented voice.
"Yes, I'm looking to speak with Lorelai Gilmore," Logan said, his smoothness back intact.
"I'm sorry, but whatever you're selling we're not interested. Go try another inn," said the man, turning his attention back onto the book.
Logan put his hand on the book, turning the man's attention back towards him, "Look, I'm not selling anything. I need to ask Ms. Gilmore a question."
No sooner than the words had come from his mouth, than woman with crystalline blue eyes, sleek black hair, and bearing a startling resemblance to Rory, came bustling up.
"Michel, what seems to be the problem?" asked the woman, seeming to have the intuitive ability to sense that things were not all calm and pleasant.
"Lorelai, this boy, is asking to see you. Shall I send him away?" Michel asked, slight eagerness apparent underneath the disdainful tone.
"No, Michel, you will not send him away. If he is here to see me, than see me he shall," said Lorelai, turning her attention to Logan. "Hi, I'm Lorelai Gilmore."
"Hello, Ms. Gilmore, I'm Logan Huntzberger and I drove all the way here from Yale to ask you a question," Logan said, relieved to finally be able to accomplish his Wizard of Oz-like quest.
"Wait, Limo boy? You really are cute. And if you're here to ask me for Rory's hand in marriage, I'm going to have to say that you should just ask her yourself," answered Lorelai, quirking an eyebrow and smiling.
"What? Limo boy? You give nicknames out just like your daughter. Very interesting names."
"Yes, she gets that from me, I've raised her well."
"Well, as I was saying Ms. Gilmore."
"Lorelai."
"Lorelai. I drove here from Yale so that I could ask you for Rory's cell phone number. And trust me, it has been quite the journey, involving a gruff man in flannel who owns a diner, a woman who told me was I cute and grabbed my butt, and then this guy here," said Logan, gesturing towards Michel.
"You met Miss Patty? Wow, you must really be desperate. Sure, Limo boy, I'll give you Rory's number. And I'll be so nice as to not ask you why you want, cause I'm pretty sure I'll know by tonight," Lorelai said grabbing a pen from a holder and tearing off a sheet from a memo pad. She wrote down the number and handed the piece of paper to Logan. "Have fun kid, and remember, you hurt my Rory, I hurt you, okay?"
"I got that, Lorelai. It was a pleasure to meet you. Thanks for the number," Logan said, taking the piece of paper and heading towards the door.
"Sure thing. Bye," said Lorelai waving to him as he left.
Logan left the inn, and got back into his car, grateful that that part of his mission was over. 'After all that, she had better say yes,' thought Logan as he made his way back to Yale. 'If she doesn't, I'm definitely not going to be amused by the irony.'
Rory sat in the Yale library, desperately determined to forget about the majority of the morning's events and focus solely on the book in front of her. Which was a daunting task, as the subject she was studying wasn't the most interesting in nature. Actually, it was quite boring and it was taking all mental strength Rory had not to slam it shut and hurl it across the library at an unsuspecting patron. Luckily, she had her mother's stubbornness. So there she sat, reading The Faerie Queene by Edmund Spencer, for her Medieval Poetry class. And now she was pretty confident in the way that she was going to die; boredom. This book was surely going to kill her and she only had to read selected passages, not the whole thing.
'Why did I choose to take Medieval Poetry? I don't even like poetry! I guess I was just experiencing temporary insanity. But what kind of evil person makes their students read The Faerie Queene! I'm pretty sure that this is a direct violation of the 8th Amendment. Perhaps I should contact my local senator,' Rory thought as she tried to focus.
"Excuse me?" asked a lilting voice from above Rory's head.
Rory glanced from her reading, both grateful for the interruption and curious as to who was talking to her. She looked up to the smiling face of a petite girl, who's curly auburn hair was pulled haphazardly back into a ponytail, and was wearing a Clash tee-shirt.
"Hi, I'm sorry to interrupt you while you're reading, The Faerie Queene," the girl paused and wrinkled her freckled nose in distaste. "But you looked like someone who could help me and this is kind of embarrassing to admit, but I haven't been in the library for a while, so I was wondering if you could tell me where I could find Pushkin?"
It took Rory a moment to process what she had been asked. But after she had she answered the girl. "Um…over there," she said pointing towards the far entrance. "Lower bookcase, third shelf from the end."
"Thanks for your help. Have fun forgetting what you're trying to," answered the girl as she made to walk away.
Rory stared after the girl in amazement and confusion, before calling after her, "Wait, how did you that I'm trying to forget something?"
The girl turned around and smiled, continuing to slowly back away, "Because no one reads Spencer unless they are trying to be distracted. Especially when you just SparkNotes it. Whoever he is, I bet he's cute." And with that she turned and continued towards the shelves.
Rory was dumbfounded. All she could do was respond in a voice that was barely audible, "He is, but not as cute as Pushkin."
Left to ponder the mysterious girl's astute words, Spencer, and how viable the option of SparkNotes was, Rory lapsed into distracted silence. 'Who was that girl? And how did she know that was I looking for a distraction? Do have the word "Confused" tattooed across my forehead? Cause I'm pretty sure that I have never met her before, ever. Oh great, I'm right back where I started! Having no idea what to do about my article or Logan and now I have the added problem of the fact that my distress is noticeable to strangers!'
Just then, Rory's cell phone started to ring, taking her abruptly away from her thoughts. 'Thank god, a distraction,' Rory thought as she dug into her bag, looking for her cell phone so that she could answer it. She pulled out her cell, shoved her books back into her bag, picked up her back, and flipped open her cell as she made to exit the library, trying hard to ignore the glares of her fellow patrons.
"Hello?" she asked.
"Hey Ace, I told you that I'd call you," Logan's voice emanated from the other end of the line.
"Logan? How did you get this number?" Rory asked confused.
"Well, I am the Master and Commander, Ace. That title does come with perks and connections."
"And these 'connections' help you stalk me? Well, isn't this quite the role reversal. Would you like me to leave a window open for you?"
"If it would mean that I get to sneak and see you, then go for it. I'm sure that it would be quite fun."
"Ha ha, very funny Huntzberger."
"So, I've relegated to being referred to by my surname? That hurts, Ace. You cut me deep."
"Aw, poor baby. Would you care for a band-aid?"
"They don't make band-aids to fix broken hearts."
"Oh, so I've broken your heart now."
"Okay, maybe not broken it, but you did give it a paper cut."
"Logan, is there a point to this phone call or did you just want to show off your sleuthing skills?"
"Well, actually Ace, there is a method to this madness."
"And that would be?"
"What are you doing this weekend?"
"Why? Are you asking me out?"
"Not necessarily. I was just wondering if you'd like to come to a Brigade party with me. The gang really liked you."
"You tracked down my phone number to ask me to a party?"
"Not just any party, Ace, a Life and Death Brigade party. Those parties fall into a realm of their own. So what do you say?"
Rory paused for a moment. She had really had fun at the last Brigade event, and they seemed like nice people. Plus who was she to turn down such an invitation. "Sure. I'll go to the party."
"Perfect! I'll pick you up at 7 sharp. Don't forget to wear something nice."
"Wait, how nice?" Rory asked, concern in her voice. She definitely did not want to be underdressed.
"Don't fret, Ace. I've thought that you might be anxious, so Steph will be at your dorm at noon on Saturday. Well, I better get going, people to see, hospitals to visit, you know, the like."
"Okay, but before you go, aren't you going to tell me how you my number?"
"Ace, a good reporter always protects the anonymity of his or her sources. Talk to you later, bye," Logan said, hanging up the phone before Rory had a chance to respond.
'He always manages to somehow get the last word. One of these days, I'll have the last word, and he won't know what hit him,' Rory thought as she opened the door to her dorm. Her conversation with Logan had lasted the entire walk back, and she was surprised that she hadn't accidentally walked into someone from lack of paying attention. Throwing her bag down on a chair, she checked to see if there were any phone messages. Upon seeing that there were none, she thought to herself, 'A LDB party? I think that I might just have gotten myself in over my head by involving myself with Logan. Wait! Did I just say that I was involved with Logan? I meant befriending. Interacting. That's it a better, safer word.'
Rory opened up her cell phone and speed dialed her mom.
"Hey mom, you'll never guess what just happened to me."
A/N: Holy cow… this is the longest chapter I've ever written. It totals 9 pages and 3,502 words. Isn't that amazing? Makes up for the longtime between updates. Thanks to all those who reviewed ( lizzie, hannah, beautymarked, g--b-S-t-E-r07, beauty unfolds, RidgelandHater, daisyduke947, Rosey88, Lovelock79, readergurl87, & TMK78). I love getting feedback! It's a great motivator! Read and review, please, and I'll update soon with more Sophie goodness!
