A/N: I heart Arianna.
Chapter Eleven: I'll be a brand new day in a life that you hate
It is ghost hour when he rouses her from sleep and pulls her out of his bed. She is groggy and disoriented but trusts him enough to follow his lead. As they navigate the yard in the dark, her hand tight in his, she wakes up enough to ask him where they are going.
"I promised to take you to the beach."
"But it's the middle of the night," she points out.
"And?"
And nothing. She lets him lead her through the empty streets. They pass blackened store fronts and empty outside eateries. There is no light, no people, and she wonders if she and Jess are the only two left in the world.
The sand is soft and cool beneath her feet. Jess warns her to watch out for broken glass and other potentially dangerous detritus after he notices she has removed her shoes and stuck them under her arm. He pointedly tells her that he will under no circumstances carry her if she is mortally wounded. She shrugs and curls her toes, laughing softly.
"Where were you tonight?" she asks. "You said you were going out for lunch and then you never came back." She tilts her head, sniffs the air and finds he smells vaguely of alcohol. The scent turns her stomach.
He sits in the sand and she drops down beside him. The breeze leaves a sprinkling of goosebumps across her skin; she shivers.
"I came back a little after you went to bed," he says. "My bed," he adds. "You were supposed to be on the couch."
"Sasha said you were rude for abandoning me, so I should steal your bed." Rory shrugs, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "I thought she was giving me very sage advice."
Sasha. Jess remembers what he wants to say to Rory. There is the news of his opportunity, the new life that Ted has presented him. On his way home from a night drinking with Ted and a few of the guys ("a social get-together," Ted had called it, insisting it sounded less crude), all he could think about was sitting down with Rory to tell her how his life had changed over the course of one meal. But Jimmy and Sasha had intercepted him before he could wake her up. Now there is something else.
"Jess." Her tone has switched from light to worried. "How much did you have to drink?"
"Oh geez." He covers his face with a hand, and rubs his eyes. "You are not starting this again."
"Don't go on the defensive."
"I was out tonight with some old friends. Social drinking, Rory. It's the same thing the elite do at all those dinner parties you attend."
Her jaw tightens. "You're kind of being an asshole. I thought you took me here so we could have fun."
He looks away toward the waves, not knowing what to say. He feels funny around her, awkward and off-balance. It's not just the alcohol but what Jimmy has told him, offered him. Rory's playing games again.
"I don't want you drinking anymore."
He whips his head around. "Excuse me?"
She takes a deep breath but does not falter. "I've been wanting to say that for awhile now. Just… don't, okay? Please?"
"You're kidding, right?"
"Jess." She speaks softly, trying to get him to agree. His chest constricts as she wraps him tighter around her finger.
"Since when do you dictate my life?" It's a stupid question; she's been doing it for years.
She shakes her head. "I don't." How generous of her to concede. "I'm asking as a friend for you to not do it." She touches his hand, spilling sand over his fingers. The rushing of the waves fills the void that falls. His skin is cold as she removes her hand from his, disappointed.
"Okay," he tells her quietly.
"Do you want to go swimming?" she asks abruptly as if he hasn't just given in.
"Swimming," he echoes.
"Yeah." She acts quickly before the uneasiness can settle, before he can change his mind. "We're having fun tonight. You did wake me up."
"Wait, Rory – "
"Relax," she says as she slips off her shorts, misinterpreting his words. "The underwear is staying on." She tugs on his hand. "Come on!"
As soon as he stands she pulls on the hem of his shirt. He bats her away and tugs it off, and she shoots him an appreciative smile.
"It's going to be cold," he tells her.
She ignores him and runs down toward the water, shrieking as she wades in. Hesitantly, he follows, trying to figure out how to broach the subject he so desperately needs to bring up. The water hits him sharply, stealing his breath. It's freezing.
"So tell me about your friends," Rory requests as bends her knees, the water level rising around her. Her hair just brushes the surface.
"There's no much to say."
"Oookay." She draws out the word. "Then tell me who called this morning."
"Ted."
She scrunches her nose in disgust. "As in Bundy?"
"He's more of a Ted Logan."
"Ah." She nods knowingly. "Dude."
"He wanted to catch up," Jess explains. "And then we ended up celebrating." He is about to tell her for what when she dives underwater.
Seconds later she pops back up, shivering and breathless. "Wow," she stutters, her teeth chattering together. "If I wasn't awake before…"
"What did you tell Sasha about us?"
"I am now," she finishes softly.
He moves toward her, slicing through the water. His skin is frightfully pale in the moonlight, but his body is vibrant, thriving on the emotion he directs toward her.
"Today when you were here, what did you tell her?" The news of his success is lost as anger overcomes him, nagging him to find out what in the world she was thinking.
"Nothing."
"Bullshit," he snaps. "When I came home tonight, Jimmy and Sasha pulled me into their room, so they could give me Jimmy's grandmother's wedding ring. A fucking ring, Rory!"
She shrinks under him, her lips trembling, her shoulders shaking. She thinks she's going to cry.
"They told me they wanted me to have it for you. That you seemed so happy when you talked to Sasha, how could it not last?" He tilts her chin up she will look him in the eye. "When you told Sasha we were together, did it somehow escape you that you have a boyfriend of over three years back home?"
She swats his hand away and swims in the opposite direction, needing so badly to be away from him.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he calls after her. His harsh tone cuts her easily, and she watches the surrounding water turn red.
She spins around, some distance away. "I'm sorry," she chokes out. "I know you're with Megan and – "
"Yeah, you keep saying that. You know what? I'm not with Megan. We broke up because of you." He pauses and shakes his head, as if he cannot believe how ridiculous he is. "Wait, we would have to have been actually dating to break up. We never started because of you."
Her eyes are wide as she listens, her heart lodged into her throat. She feels faint as she tries to find the words, any words that will placate him. His anger is lethal and slowly crushing her. She hears a bone snap as he stares her down, his expression unforgiving.
She swims back toward him, stopping directly in his path. She stares up at him with dull eyes, wondering how she is still solid.
"Sasha asked me how long we've been dating. I didn't correct her."
"No you just confirmed it," he says.
"Don't you wonder what it'd be like if you and I were together right now? Doesn't it ever occur to you?" Her voice pleads with him; tell me, she begs, tell me you think about it too.
"That's not the point, Rory, because we are not together."
She bites her lip until she tastes blood. With a gulp of sea air, a swallow of metallic red, she plunges. "I want us to be."
"Rory." He sighs because he wants it too. But she can't, they can't. She knows that!
"I want us to be together for real. I want us to be the couple that goes out on dates and holds hands in public." She pauses, waiting for the courage that never comes. "I'm in love with you."
The waves sweep him away, carry him toward sea. He drifts in and out, a tumble of blue clouding his vision. He watches her fade from sight, a pinprick of hope on the horizon.
"Jess." His name, her lips. "I love you." When he doesn't answer, she swallows over the lump in her throat. "I'm breaking up with Blake when we go back. I don't want to do it anymore – live a life that my grandmother chooses for me. I don't want to be that girl, someone of society and money. I don't want any of that!" She touches his wrist gently, cool air over his skin. "I want you. I want us. I don't care about anything else."
Silence. Just a pulse, distant and slow as she leans toward him and kisses his mouth. With a hand on either cheek, she is desperate, begging for him to kiss her back.
He does.
He wraps an arm around her back and pulls her flush against him, sliding a hand beneath her shirt. His entire body aches with want as the blood rushes through him, dizzy in all directions. He feels the throb of need, and he lets his senses go, disappearing inside her.
-
There is a freckle in the space between her breasts, a familiar mark he reads like Braille. He kisses her skin tenderly but her hands are urgent, pulling him down roughly. She wraps her legs around his waist and bites his shoulder, surprising him.
"Rory." He nuzzles her neck, smoothing down her damp hair.
She relaxes beneath him, calmed by his voice, the way he says her name. She sighs happily, ignoring the racing of her heart as it tries to shatter her ribcage and break out of her chest. With a hand on his back, she holds him to her, never wanting to let go.
"I love you," she tells him and he feels a release. It is the same he felt earlier but more intense, as if her words are borne with a fiery edge.
He breathes out and kisses her mouth, tracing her lips with his tongue.
-
Morning approaches slowly, not wanting to be a disturbance. The sun is bright but unnoticed as it replaces the moon.
"Okay, your turn," Rory says. "What's the one place you want to go to more than anywhere else?"
Jess muses for a moment before responding with, "Kansas City."
"What?" She turns her head to look at him. Both are side by side on his bed, the linens pulled over their heads. Under the sheets, it is dark and still, like a frozen moment of the two of them. "You can't give me an answer like that and not explain why."
"It's a long story."
She drapes an arm across his chest. "Tell me."
He shakes his head, mostly out of wonder for why she would want to hear this. "Fine."
"Yay!" She lets out a small squeal of excitement. "Story time."
"I got stuck in detention a lot when I lived in New York."
"Surprise, surprise," she mumbles.
He ignores her and continues. "By seventh grade, I had finished copying the school handbook… twice."
"Twice?" She laughs. "Geez Jess, how often were you there?"
"At one point, I was in there every afternoon. Some days, I don't think I had it, but I was so used to going there, I just did."
"Why break routine?" she asks, amused.
"Exactly." He nods, the side of his face brushing against her hair. She kisses his neck and waits for him to continue. "I was always stuck in this classroom with tons of books. They had high school reading books and atlases and dictionaries… like a whole wall of this stuff."
"Nice place for detention," she says, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "You weren't even being punished!"
"I discovered Hemingway in there."
"Oh boy."
"And I noticed he had this recurring location."
"Kansas City," she fills in for him.
"Yep. So I planned the trip."
Her eyes widen. "You planned it?"
"I had nothing better to do."
"So are you flying or driving?"
"Flying," he answers. "First class on American Airlines."
"Window or aisle seat?"
"Aisle."
She looks up at him in surprise. He really has this figured out. "Why not window? You're not afraid of heights."
"Imagine being stuck next to a screaming kid for hours with no chance of escape except for climbing over him and his mother."
"Ah, noted." She smiles against his shoulder, a tingling rocking her body; a side effect of being so close to him. "So what was the worst thing you ever did? I mean, you were in detention so much." She's not sure why she and Jess are having such a heart-to-heart this morning, but after last night, she feels like telling him everything. She wants to open herself up and let him see everything.
"Arson."
"Are you serious?" She's floored. "You set a fire!"
"Not on purpose," he defends. "Me and a bunch of friends we're having a smoke… we put it out in the wrong spot."
"Oh god." She laughs again. "You're pretty bad with where you smoke." She rests her chin on his chest, and smiles up at him. "Remember that night when we kissed at the gas station? It was our first real kiss as a couple?" He nods silently, transfixed. "You were about to smoke a cigarette as you leaned against a gas pump!"
"I was distracted."
"Oh really?" She kisses a trail up his chest, pausing at the hollow of his throat. "By what?"
"So we're playing this game?" he asks. He kisses her forehead, and runs a hand down her back. "I've always wondered where you went that night."
She groans. "I never told you?"
"Nope."
She sighs, hiding her face in his neck. "I went to see Dean."
"Dean? Huh." He thinks he should feel bad but at this moment, nothing can touch him.
"I climbed a tree and knocked on his window," Rory confesses.
"And you'd rather play wilderness girl than kiss me?" His tone is playful and she's surprised.
"I felt so guilty about the way things ended between us. And I didn't want to associate kissing you with guilt."
He cups her cheek, looking at her thoughtfully. As if answering the unasked question, she kisses him softly.
"No guilt," she whispers when she pulls away.
He kisses her again, pushing her onto her back; she revels in the feel of his weight against her. Sighing, she traces absent figure eights on his back, thinking: this is it; this is the rest of her life.
A knock at the bedroom doors interrupts their kiss. Without waiting for an answer, the door opens and Jimmy steps inside. Rory's eyes widen, silently asking Jess if what she thinks happened, really just did.
"Uh, Jess?"
"Yeah, Jimmy?" Jess answers from beneath the sheets.
"Breakfast is ready."
"Good to know."
"Is that, uh, is that Rory under there with you?"
She blushes and covers her face even though Jimmy can't see her.
"It is."
"Um, right. Tell her breakfast's ready?"
"Can do."
After the door closes, Rory laughs into Jess's chest, and he thinks he can stay like this forever.