Title: Too Close For Comfort

Chapter Five: Leavin' Time Again

POV: Jess, but for this chapter only.

A/N: Answers to inquiries:

To Samantha: first of all, cool name. Second of all, two weeks pregnant is counted as being four weeks pregnant because with the gestational calendar or whatever they start two weeks before conception has actually occurred, i.e., the last period. I dunno why.

To Milo12: (1) The party was still cop-raided. See the first chapter, where they heard far-off sirens and the place was practically cleared out. Let's just say a neighbor finally got fed up with the loud music. It is, after all, Stars Hollow. Taylor probably couldn't get to sleep. (2) I didn't write about Jimmy coming because this is from Rory's POV and even in the show, Rory was never told about Jimmy coming. It just seemed like she'd been told because we'd been told. So, Luke probably told her. (3) In the show, Jess left because he'd had a fight with Rory at Kyle's party about not having sex, he'd just seen his dad, he wasn't graduating, and Luke kicked him out. In this story, Jess left because he'd had a fight with Rory in Luke's apartment about not having sex again, he'd just seen his dad, he wasn't graduating, and Luke kicked him out. Everything that had to do with Jess leaving still happened; this time it just happened off-screen, kinda, because, once again, this is Rory's POV. She knew nothing about Jess at all in the last few episodes. So, Jess left because of extremely huge reasons in the show and in this story.

I hope that answers all of your questions. :D

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I tried to be unlovable

Why couldn't you do the same?

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When I'd left California, the moon was shining duskily in the sunlight of the bright blue sky. Now, just a few days and a couple thousand miles later, the moon was barely visible through the gray clouds covering a midnight-black sky.

I stepped from the bus slowly, my leather jacket protecting me from the chilliness of the Connecticut summer night, and made my way through the small town to the dark diner in the center. I stood across the street for ten minutes, until I was completely sure that there was light flickering in the apartment upstairs.

Satisfied, I headed to the side of the diner, the one where the tree branch reaches my old bedroom window. I dropped my bag at the base of the tree, shrugged out of my leather jacket, and started to climb.

Less than two minutes later, I was oh-so-gracefully falling into my old room. I guess my loud grunts and curse words were just a little too loud, because soon Luke came running in, a baseball bat held high above his head. Remembering that he'd actually played baseball in high school, I winced and threw my arms over my head.

"Jess?" he asked, astonished, lowering the bat slowly. When I saw the bottom of the bat touch the floor, I slowly stood and smirked at Luke.

"How ya doin', Uncle Luke?"

He glared and lifted the bat again, this time adopting a batter stance and lining himself up with my head. "Hold still," he muttered, staring with an evil glint in his eye.

"Luke?" a distinctly female voice asked from around the corner.

"Who's that?" I asked, walking out of my section and around the corner. I stopped when I saw who it was. "Nicole," I said slowly.

"Uh, hello," she said, folding her arms across her chest. She was standing on the other side of Luke's bed, clothed only in a flimsy little white baby-doll nightie. I couldn't tell if she'd stood up from the bed, or the desk on the other side of the bed. She was, however, suddenly blonde, which was a change from the deep auburn she'd been only a few months ago, when I'd left. She took her gaze from me and turned to Luke. "Luke?" she asked again. "What's going on?"

Luke sighed. He leaned the baseball bat against the wall and waved a hand dismissively at me. "Jess is back."

"Oh, Jess," she sighed. She reached to the floor and lifted up a robe, flipping it on smoothly. I watched as she tied it tightly around her waist one, two, three times. After she was finished she looked up. She caught me staring at her, and I immediately turned back around to face Luke.

"So, Luke, how's life been treatin' ya?"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Luke said lowly as I wandered past him to the fridge.

"Harsh words, Uncle Luke." I pulled a carton of milk out and then tried to find a glass.

"Jess, stop it."

"I'm a growing boy. I need my calcium." I proceeded to pour.

"Jess. I said stop!"

Shocked at the actually harsh tone in his voice, I glanced up at him. I hadn't seen him this mad since…well, the last time I'd seen him.

"Um, maybe I should—" Nicole spoke up softly.

"Yeah, maybe you should go," Luke said, staring directly at me. I knew he was speaking to me.

"I'll just get my things," Nicole said, starting to cross the apartment to the bathroom.

"No, Nicole. I'll just leave. The way I came," I said, still staring at Luke. He nodded slowly.

"And you don't need to come back. If you don't know yet, she doesn't think you need to know."

"Know what?"

"Out, Jess," he said, breezing past my question and pointing to the window through which I'd come.

"But, Luke—"

"No, Jess. This is the way it is. This is the way it is supposed to be. That is the way you need to go." He pointed again at the window, for emphasis. I nodded slowly, drank my milk as quickly as I could, and waltzed back through the apartment. I left the milk on the counter, gave Nicole a head nod as I passed her, and then stopped, poised at the edge of the window.

"Bye, Luke. Tell her—tell her I'm sorry."

His gaze, nor his glare, ever wavered.

I nodded, edged my way through the window, and crawled back down the tree. At the bottom, I picked up my army bag and shoved my leather jacket into it—it really was warm—before slinging the bag back over my shoulder and sauntering back through town.

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I got there a lot quicker than I thought I would. It might have just been the fact that the town was so quiet at midnight; everyone had been asleep for hours. Normally the only people awake would be them, but they were gone. I knew they were. It was one of the reasons I'd picked that time to come, because I knew they would be off in Europe, having the time of their lives.

The house was strangely quiet, and dark. I'd seen it dark before, but even in the dark, there always seemed to be noise. Movies, TV, some CD they'd fallen asleep to; something.

In the dark I noticed not one, but three cars crowding the front lawn. The requisite Jeep, a silver Volvo, and some other silver weird-looking car. As I walked past it, I trailed my hand along the weird-looking car. Maybe she'd gotten it for graduation, from her grandparents. Her grandparents seemed like the time of people to give her a car, and she would be going to school a whole 22.8 miles away.

The front door was locked, like they always did when they left for more than a few hours at a time. Her window, however, was unlocked, like always, and I slowly pried it open and crawled through, leaving my bag below it. Somehow, crawling through a first-floor window was much easier than crawling through a second-floor window, and I managed to not fall to the floor of her room. I even managed to make it through in a somewhat standing position.

Her bed was made, the throw pillows arranged meticulously. Her Harvard corner had been transformed into a much geekier Yale corner, although I had to admit, the blue of the Yale sweater matched her eyes much better than the crimson Harvard one. Her bookshelves were still relatively full, which meant she'd been a little bit talked out of the multitudes of paperbacks she'd been planning to cart around with her. A few books were pulled from the shelves, and were lying down as if she'd just put them down. There was some trashy thing; a very old, bedraggled book that looked like it'd been read a million times; a book or two on the history of Yale, a European guide book they'd left out at the last minute, and at the bottom…a tiny brochure.

Your Period's Late. Now What? it read in bold letters across the top. At the bottom was a badly drawn picture of a cartoon girl looking sad. She had three thought bubbles drawn above her head. One read "Stress?" with a picture of a stack of books, with a big C circled on what looked to be a test paper. The second read "Weight Loss/Gain?" with a picture of a scale with its numbers spinning. The third read "Pregnancy?" with a picture of what was supposedly the cartoon girl's cartoon boyfriend.

The brochure had words trailing up and down the sides, written in her precise script.

"This tiny little brochure likes to scare the hell out of girls, and also to bore others of us to death. It serves only as a tool for public schools to separate the boys and girls for an hour, hoping that if they are separated to learn about the disadvantages of sex, they will be that much more disinclined to jump upon one another when they meet again."

I flipped open the brochure to see if she continued her commentary anywhere else. I was greeted by some not so precise print, something that only had to be her best friend's words, judging by the content.

"That is entirely true. However, I know that Mama will want us to give her a complete run down of every single word that was spoken during this entire hour. Maybe we should pay attention."

"I almost laughed out loud! You have to be careful what you write here, because you know they'll yell again."

"Just because we made fun of Taylor's "Stay Only In Stars Hollow For The Rest Of Your Life" speech. I mean, I know that Mama will force me to, but it's not like I want to."

"I get it. Don't worry. When I make it to somewhere away from here, I'll most definitely sneak you away. At least for a year or two."

"Why do they give this speech to us as freshmen? I don't care at all. As a matter of fact, I don't like this speech. I certainly don't know anyone who's planning on having sex anytime soon. Unless you're not telling me something…"

"Oh, right, me. With the mother who dropped out of high school at the age of 16 and ran away from home at the age of 17."

"See what I mean?"

"You're right about us. But what about the rest of these girls?"

"Well, Joanna Posner is glowing a little."

"Oops, he just glared. Better put the pens away."

"It's your fault for laughing."

It was there the conversation ended. I refolded the brochure and restacked the books, before wandering towards her desk. Her iMac was open, but off. Getting an idea, I turned it on and settled into her desk chair, all in one smooth motion.

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I woke up the next morning with the iMac's keyboard permanently imprinted on my cheek. I tried to wipe it off, with no avail. Instead, I turned the laptop off quickly, before crawling back through her window and shutting it as tightly as I could behind me. I picked up my bag and started to stride quickly across the lawn.

I only stopped at her car, the new silver weird-looking one. I pulled the letter that had been in my pocket since I'd left her on the bus at the end of May. I stared at it for just a second, before opening the driver's side door and placing it gently on the seat. I closed the door, aware of the deafening noise the slam seemed to make in the relatively early morning.

"Goodbye, Rory. Thanks. For everything."

I left the words hanging in the air next to her car, hoping they would still be there when she got back, and walked back through the town, back to the bus station. The next bus that pulled up, I was on it. I didn't know where it was going, but that's where I wanted to be. Away from Stars Hollow.

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Dear Rory Gilmore,

I meant to be there.

I meant to graduate.

I meant to make you proud.

You know I did. You know that's all I ever wanted. All I ever wanted was for you to look at me like you cared.

And for so long, you did.

My dad came back. I know that Luke will probably tell you this after he learns that I'm gone. But it happened. My dad came back.

I haven't seen him in years. Since I can remember. He came back, he told me who he was, we sat in the dark diner listening to "Suffragette City" by Bowie, and then he split. Again.

That was the day after Kyle's party.

That was the same day as our fight.

And I'm so sorry for not making it up to you. I'm so sorry for walking out on you without resolving this stupid thing. But I just couldn't anymore. I've been failing since at least January. I've been skipping school to go to work. I worked at Wal-Mart, for crissakes.

Rory, you don't understand. There's no way you can. There's no way you can know what it's like to not know your dad, to not give a damn about anyone else, and then suddenly…care. That's right, I care. I care a lot.

None of this is about you at all. It was just the right time. I don't have to stick around for graduation or anything, because I'm not going to be graduating. And I haven't met Jimmy before. I just want to get to know him.

Our fight just happened at an inopportune time.

It's not your fault, though. This has nothing to do with you. I understand it should; I get all that. Maybe I'm just an uncaring bastard, I don't know. Maybe it's genetic, something we Marianos have.

Ror, don't blame yourself. Blame me all you want, but don't blame yourself.

Jess Mariano