Summary: Tristin is surprised when the last person he expects shows up at his college...Rory. Following things will happen: Trory christmas, Lorelai and Luke with kids, and Trory babysitting, spring break, and more entertainment.
Disclaimer: Okay. Think about it people. Is my first name Amy? no. Is my last name Pallendino? No. Am I associated with Warner Bros.? No. Do you think I could write a song at all? No. The song You belongs to the wonderful Switchfoot.
There's always something
In the way
There's always something
Getting through
But it's not me
it's You
It had been five and a half god damn years. Yet, Tristin still thought of her. He craved her, yearned for her, wanted her...Rory Gilmore was the only woman for him. A woman she most surely was now. He'd kept in touch with Paris after he'd left Chilton, and she'd told him all of Rory's goings on, because she knew that he missed the girl, and wanted the girl. He wanted her so bad it hurt.
He'd hurt for her when Paris had told him that boyfriend of hers, Jess, had broken up with her and ran off out of nowhere. He'd hurt for her when the bagboy Dean situation had been screwed up-for the fourth time.
Tristin had tried dating. There'd been a few girls here and there once he left military school. None of them had lasted long. None of them were her.
Tristin always swore to Paris he was over Rory. But Paris knew him better then anyone else, and could tell when he was lying. Now that she knew he was still pining for the girl, he asked Paris if she ever mentioned him, and Paris told him no. He ignored the pain when she said that, and Paris asked if he was okay, and he said yeah, he was fine.
There's always something
In the way
There's always something
Getting through
But it's not me
it's You
Fine. Sure, he was fine. He was fine like a drunk with a bad hangover the next morning. Which he had been. He'd drank his sorrows away, had sex with some random girl, and then drank some more. At first, he was certain that he'd rid himself of her.
He went to the library, as he sometimes did. Then he came across a Jane Austen novel, and images of her swirled in his head. He remembered the last day of school, sophomore year.
"So I'm getting a little tired of this," he said, "are we meeting there or what?"
"Meeting where?" she asked.
"The concert."
"Well, I hope you and the empty seat next to you have fun," she said, sarcasm in her voice.
He noticed the books in her hand, and took them away from her. "Give me back my books, Tristin," she demanded.
"Go out with me, Mary, and then I'll give them back," he'd said.
"Fine, keep the books Tristin," she said and she whirled around, and it was then that he'd noticed The Bag Boy standing there. His heart had dropped.
It's all I know
And I find peace
When I'm confused
I find hope when
I'm let down
Not in me
But in You
He sighed and he looked up from the bench that he sat on in the middle of the Harvard courtyard. Yes, he'd gone to Harvard. Because Daddy Dearest said so. And because he had thought she would be there. Everything came back to her. But then she hadn't. She'd gone to Yale.
And her and Paris were friends.
God, apparently the world enjoyed mocking him, him and his love for her. He was pathetic.
Someone stood infront of him, a girl. He could tell. No guy had those legs. "I'm not in the mood for your sad attempt at flirting," he said, bitterly.
There was a familiar chuckle. "Same old bible boy, assuming that every woman wants him," said the girl-
Wait. No, it couldn't be. Could it?
Tristin slowly lifted his eyes. Blue eyes met blue. He was staring face to face with a memory from his past. A ghost. The ghost of Rory Gilmore.
She'd changed. A bit taller, but he still probably towered over her. The innocence was still there...and yet it wasn't. Dean had taken that away as he knew. Paris had told him pretty much everything.
He couldn't help but smirk. "Mary," he said, "long time no see."
She tugged at her brown hair. "You look good," she said.
"Gilmore, I never thought I'd hear those words out of your mouth," he said, smirk widdening.
She punched him. Damn that hurt. "Ow!" he said. "Fiesty as ever...you look good too, Gilmore."
"Thank you," she said, and there was a slight pause. "You want to get some coffee?"
He hesitates. He knows he shouldn't. He knows that seeing her again will make him addicted. He'll want more, and more. Yet he's already addicted, just seeing her now. So he sighs, and smiles.
"Sure," he says, "why not?"
I hope to lose myself
For good
I hope to find it in the end
Not in me
It's You
It's all I know
A/N: So, what do you think? Reviews much appriciated. Crosses fingers in hopes of ten at least