CHAPTER 8
That Saturday, Rory found herself wearing a dark mauve chiffon dress when she went out to dinner with Marty. Despite an hour of primping in front of the mirror, she felt like she was underdressed for the Sage American.
"You look wonderful," Marty said for the fourth time as he reached from across the table to hold her hand.
"Thanks," Rory blushed as she allowed his hand to cover hers. "You look wonderful yourself."
It was awkward, to say the least. Rory knew that Marty was blowing a wad of cash just to take her out. It was something she felt guilty about. They already had their aperitif and sadly, both of them knew that they were going to be paying more for the ambience than the meal itself.
"This is such a pretty place but you know we could've gone somewhere else," Rory apprehended him.
"Well I thought that I might as well take you out to a fancy place now," he replied. Then, he paused. "Okay, fancier than the dining hall. I know, it's not up to par to Logan's choice of venues, but… This way I don't have to take you out on Wednesday," he said frankly. "We could just go to your place, plop down on the sofa and watch bad TV."
Wednesday? What was Wednesday? "Oh, Valentine's! Got ya," Rory chuckled melodically.
"I hope you don't mind," Marty chortled. "I'm going to be working that night, with the Valentine's rush and all. I need all the tips I can get. But I can come by after the gig and we can have some left over canapés."
"Really, Marty. I'm fine," Rory told him. "It's not like we're... you know."
"I know," Marty responded while shrugging his shoulders. "But with this being our last semester together and all..."
"Then we just have to make tonight worthwhile," Rory suggested. She just left out the 'platonic' part when she made that statement.
It was funny how both of them were nostalgic about the small things. He was the Hallmark card that she would open every once in a while that would make her feel happy and sad at the same time. Alas, these were the moments she was going to reminisce about.
oooo00oooo
Tristin was leaning up against the banister listening to a girl whose name he'd already forgotten. He doesn't even remember what she was talking about. All he knew was that his frat brother, Jerry, introduced them earlier in the evening. She was a sophomore sorority sister, and at that, a beautiful one. Barring his current state of boredom, he would've indulged her by having a quickie in the next room over if he did want to shut her up. But another dark haired girl filled his thoughts, whose name was not one he was bound to forget.
"So how is it that you got here again?" the brunette asked him.
"To get away from my dad," Tristin retorted.
"Oh, I love my father..." she went on to another rambling thought.
She was by no means a bimbette. After all, she made it as a member of Alpha Delta Phi. She was actually pretty eloquent despite the occasional 'like' tossed in the sentence. She talked with her hands a lot; something he caught Rory doing when she was nervous. Come to think of it, he had been listening to this girl comparing her to Rory!
Somewhere between the girl talking about her first horse and her debut, his thoughts drifted to Rory and their conversation last Wednesday.
"Have you ever read High Fidelity?" Tristin asked.
"Read? My God, I think Lane recited the book to me from memory," Rory said. "She was intrigued with Rob's musical list and his overt infatuation over Laura."
"I thought it was a good read," Tristin defended himself.
"So who are your top 5 heartbreaks?" Rory challenged him.
"Let's see," he said, squinting his eyes in thought, rocking his stretched out legs on the bed. "Chrissy Abernathy from the 5th grade, Leslie Ann Carmack, freshman year college, Melissa Rochester, from the Academy, you, and of course, Summer Matthews."
"Me?" Rory asked, bewildered. "You are smoking some serious crack."
"Well you did a good job denting my ego," he said in honesty. "Every time I thought I had a chance..."
"Whatever," Rory guffawed, supporting her upper body by leaning on her elbows.
"See? If I wouldn't have known better, you would think that I'm using a pick up line on you rather than telling you the truth," Tristin said.
"It's true though, right?" Rory responded in debate.
"So, do you wanna dance?" the brunette asked, almost reluctant to ask him to lead her to the dance floor. Living Syndication who was playing on the raised platform decided to take a breather and the sound system blared some hokey Valentine's Day collection of Songs for the Dumped.
"Sure," Tristin said nonchalantly.
He rested his beer bottle on the next table they passed by before he rhythmically swayed to Words Got In The Way by Gloria Estefan.
oooo00oooo
In between her surf and turf and red wine, a trio of musicians approached the table and started playing Words Got in The Way. Rory and Marty laughed at the performers, not because they were bad but the song was utterly... appropriate?
"I guess they're trying to tell us something," Rory replied after she made sure she wasn't going to choke on the piece of lobster she was nibbling.
"What, too Jerry Maguire-ish?" Marty insinuated.
"Very. So does that make me Renee Zellweger?" Rory asked, dabbing her coral colored lips with the napkin on her lap.
"Hmm. I hope not. I can't take her seriously with the squinty eye thing," Marty replied in jest. "Premonition, I suppose?"
"Oh, so you've doomed this date already," Rory said in mocked tone.
Marty flashed a quick smile towards her before he tipped the musicians away. "Some realities we just have to face."
They should have heeded the omen. From the moment the musicians left, things between Rory and Marty went south. First, the garcon accidentally knocked Rory's arm when she was taking a sip from her wine glass, spilling the crimson drink all over her. Next, her coat was lost in the coat closet and if things couldn't get any worse, she slipped on the icy pavement, leaving more than her behind sore.
"I think we were jinxed by the Three Amigos," Marty chuckled when he dropped her off at the front of her apartment suite.
"I guess I should be thankful that then only thing that's hurt is my pride," Rory added on in agreement.
"Promise me that you won't go drive out tonight. It's the least you could do to prevent any more bad luck," Marty asked her to swear.
"I promise," she said in a mocked tone before kissing him.
The intimate act was something Rory anticipated and anxiously awaited for the past three days. Despite her hesitancy to kiss her only male heterosexual best friend, she was glad she did it.
His lips were warm and soft. His aftershave cologne assailed her nostrils, heightening each and every inch of skin exposed to his warm breath. She caught his lower lip with her teeth, sucking the soft skin gently until he moaned. She smiled when he made the primitive sound. Her hand absentmindedly caressed the freshly shaven jaw and it made him shudder a bit. Secretly, she was pleased.
"Rory, we have to stop this," he muttered between pecks, accentuating each touch with a louder smacking of lips. It was only then she even noticed his hands on her face or her arms clinging on his sides.
Rory's eyes fluttered open to meet with his intense gaze. It had a glimmer of both hunger and doubt and at that instant, Rory was confused as to why she hesitated to let him in. It's what she wanted, right?
"I know," those words slipped out almost as quietly as a child's prayer.
They clung to each other like they were each other's support. Both knew that they had to part, but both remained unwilling to be the first to say goodbye. Rory wondered if he was waiting for her to invite him over to spend the night.
"Are you coming over to study tomorrow?" he finally asked. It was an obvious inquiry to ask since awkwardness set in.
"Sure," Rory responded, non-committed.
Marty swooped down for another kiss before saying goodbye.
Rory watched Marty walk out of the building before she let herself in her flat. She absentmindedly took off her shoes, grimacing at the heel that's now broken. She shrugged off the coat, sighing at the discolored spot that obviously needed to be steamed out. She stared at her stained outfit, not knowing if it can be salvaged. And the worst of all, she can't even cry her woes to Paris who was currently being entertained in her boudoir. The empty, decorated Pinot Giorgio sitting on the breakfast nook told her not to bother her unless they were in grave danger. Rory smiled. At least it wasn't as obvious as the dorm room's scrunchy on the doorknob symbol.
If anything else, she could tell Tristin things went better than she anticipated…
oooo00oooo
Tristin was mindlessly making out with Erin, the girl whose name he'd forgotten, when his cell phone started vibrating in his front pocket. The polyphonic ring of Wish You Were Here only meant one thing.
"I have to take this call," he said, pulling his lips away from the girl. She moaned but she let him go.
"But-," she whimpered.
Tristin held up his index finger to silence her as he responded to the call. "Hey."
"Hi. Am I interrupting something?" the voice on the other end asked.
"No. Why'd you say that?" he asked as he looked at Erin who looked a little frustrated that their make out session got interrupted.
"Because you sound a little breathless," Rory explained.
Tristin smiled, a little glad that she called him this late at night. "Hey, can I call you back in a moment? I just need to find a place we can talk in private. Will you be up?"
"Yeah, I will be up for a few more hours," Rory answered.
"Good. Talk to you in a few," he said before hanging up.
Tristin shut his cell phone of quickly, almost forgetting about his lip-smacking partner.
"Where are you headed off to?" she asked. "Is everything okay?"
Tristin was at a loss of words. "Uh… yeah. That was my sister and she's just gotten back from a big date and she wants to talk about it," he fibbed.
She scrunched up her forehead in thought. He was about half a yard away when she exclaimed, "You don't have a sister!"
Tristin ran up to his room as quickly as he could despite his fraternity brothers trying to convince him to stay. He was so focused on hearing about Rory's date that he couldn't be bothered with the Anti-Valentine's Day celebration.
As soon as he locked himself up in his room, he dialed Rory's number. "So, how did the date go?" was his greeting.
"Went well," Rory responded. He could hear through the phone water flowing.
"Not well enough for you to not be… uh… predisposed," he tried to say without being nosy.
"No, not really," she giggled as she poured in the bath salts in the tub.
"But you sound happy about it," he pointed out, asking her to expound on the subject matter.
"Yeah," Rory said. He heard the water stop. "It was strange and yet, it was fun."
"What is going on there?" he asked, bemused with the sounds she was creating.
"Taking a bath," she replied matter-of-factly. "Care to join?" she teased.
"Hmm, mind if I do?" he teased back, taking off his shirt and tossing it on his laundry hamper.
Her chuckle reverberated through the phone, putting a grin on Tristin's face. "You're a flirt."
"Now, look who's talking!" he threatened playfully. "I'm not the one soaking in a bath tub right now and issuing out invites."
"I didn't think you'd call so soon," Rory admitted, a smile formed on her face as she tested the water's heat.
"Wow, a girl that actually complains about the 'I'll call you' line from a guy," Tristin said in a mocked hurt tone.
Again, she laughed.
"So, give me the details," he suggested.
"He took me out to this nice restaurant. Had a little wine, a little surf and turf and then things went down hill," she said dramatically.
"How so?" he asked as he belly flopped on his full-sized bed.
"We were serenaded to Words Got In The Way. You know, the Gloria Estefan song?" she clarified.
Tristin laughed. "Yeah, know the song. I danced to it tonight."
"You danced to it tonight?" Rory inquired, a stab of jealousy made her sit up straight in the tub. "You didn't tell me that you went out on a date. That's cool!" Was it?
"It wasn't a date, Rory," he clarified. "The frat house was throwing a fund-raiser tonight. It's an Anti-Valentine's Day party and I got roped into it."
"Tristin getting roped? That's something you don't hear often," Rory settled back into the warm liquid.
"Yeah, well…" he said candidly. "This girl asked me to dance and it was to that song."
"I hope you got luckier than me after the song," she implied.
"I was making out with her when you called," he evilly clued her in. He might as well have pictured Rory blushing at his comment.
"I am so sorry," she apologized, dragging the word 'so' like it was a long word. "You didn't have to take my call."
"It wasn't that important," he calmed he down. "Besides, I wanted to know if things went well between you and Marty."
"Oh yeah," she shifted gears. "Things were going well until the musicians left…" she animatedly detailed to him the events of the night. Tristin was laughing and sympathizing with her as she went about the story. It felt good to hear her confide to him.
"He was a great sport throughout the whole evening," she said. "He took me back to the apartment and kissed me."
He kissed her was all he could think about. He should've realized that she was going to tell him all the gritty details. Sighing, he asked, "Then what happened?"
"I don't know," Rory said softly. "At one point we were kissing, then I stopped."
"Stopped what?" he snooped.
"Kissing him," she replied. "I wanted him to come in but I just can't bring myself to-"
"You don't have to tell me if you're not comfortable, you know," he mentioned.
There was hesitancy on the other end of the line. "It's not that."
Tristin held his breath. The only thing he heard was the sound of her breathing as she splashed softly in the water. "I can't bring myself to be… intimate with him. At least, not this night." The sound of disappointment in her voice made him want to touch her.
"Rory," he whispered softly. "You shouldn't be apologetic for feeling something you felt wasn't right."
"I know," he heard her splash. "It's just that I know he knows how I feel about him and I just don't want him thinking that I'm a tease."
"Well, you're not," he replied a little to harshly.
"That's what Logan said I was," she responded bitterly.
"You listen to an idiot like him?" Tristin snarled. "I think you should give Marty a little more credit than that."
Another pause filled the line. "You are really being nice to me with this whole fiasco. Thank you."
"I live to serve," he said, feeling a little dejected, not because he felt like a loser championing Marty to her but because he wished that it was him she spoke of so lovingly.
Not a beat too soon, Rory shrieked.
"Rory, what's wrong?" he asked, his heart suddenly pounding like he just got the scare of his life.
"Uh, nothing," she said after a moment. "Paris', uh, date just walked in on me in the bathroom. I think I have to hang up and get myself out of the tub. Apparently the curse continues."
Letting out a sigh of relief, Tristin replied, "Don't scare me like that! Call me then if things change?"
"I will," she promised. "Oh, and Tristin?"
"Yeah?" he waited with bated breath.
"Sweet dreams," she said before hanging up.
Tristin rolled on to his back and tossed his cell carelessly next to him. He sure wished he'd have one of those dreamless nights once more.