Disclaimer: Any character you recognize isn't mine. Some dialogue is borrowed from Lorelai's Graduation Day. Chapter title comes from "Down" by Something Corporate.

AN: I'm so, so, so sorry for the incredibly long wait. It was so long that I'm not even going to give an excuse, because my only excuse is that I'm lazy. But I am definitly planning on continuing and finishing this. Hopefully, I'll be able to update a lot more often. Also? I'm not used to writing dialogue. So, I'm sorry if it's not very "Rory and Jess"like. And, sorry for bringing up the overused Rand/Hemingway debate...I wanted at least a touch of non AU R/J.

Chapter 4--Do You Know What Stars Are?

Rory woke up the next morning to the smell of cigarette smoke and burnt eggs. Pleasant. As her eyelids began to flutter open slowly, and her surroundings came into focus, she let out a small groan. It wasn't as if she thought she could magically be transported to the land of the Sugar Plum Fairy in her sleep, (she'd given up that dream long ago.) but it was quite a disappointment to wake up from such a good dream to this hole in the wall room strewn with dirty laundry and books.

She smiled, recalling her dream. It had been some time since she had last woken up happy.

She couldn't remember it fully, but…there were unicorns! Lots and lots of porcelain unicorns.

Okay, so that was a bit odd.

But it really was a nice dream. She was in a small town, one of those 'everybody knows your name' bits. Quirky characters up and down the street, friendly gossip on every corner. A quiet place, out of the way, with a handsome boy reading a book.

She closed her eyes and sank back into her pillow a bit further.

"Rory! Get your ass out here and help me with breakfast!"

Rory's eyes snapped back open. So much for her quite bliss.

She sighed and slid off the bed, beginning to sift through clothes. Finding victory in a pair of jeans that were probably clean, and a t-shirt that wasn't too wrinkled, Rory dressed quickly, tugged her hair into a sloppy ponytail, and reluctantly emerged from her room, ready to keep her foster mother from burning down the apartment building.

Entering the kitchen, the rancid aroma that had awoken her filled her nostrils, and she could feel her eyes water. Anna stood at the sink, scrubbing furiously at a frying pan, cigarette dangling out of the corner of her mouth. Rory thought bitterly that this must be the epitome of a pathetic existence.

It scared her, though. As much as she wanted to give, as much as she tried to convince herself that she wasn't supposed to be any better, she still wanted to be. She knew what people saw when they looked into her future. Nothing. They saw her working her way into a dead end. But they were wrong; they had to be wrong. Rory was better than that; she could be better than that. It was times like these, people like Anna, that made her truly believe that she was better.

She snapped out of her reverie once she realized Anna was barking some order or another at her.

"Hey, I've got this horrible headache, and you don't look too hung over. Do the laundry for me, just this once, Ror? Just that one load, and then you can go back to whatever the hell it is you do." Rory rolled her eyes. It was never "just one load." She'd play Anna's little slave girl all day if she agreed.

"Actually, I've got plans."

"Excuse me? Plans?" Anna raised an awkwardly plucked eyebrow.

"Yes. Plans." Seeing Anna's skeptical look, she elaborated. "I'm going to Washington Square, I'm meeting a friend."

"A friend, huh? So you got yourself a boy."

"What?" Rory felt her cheeks flush a deep red.

"You've got the look; the boy look. I know I've had that look lots of times, if you know what I mean." Anna nudged her none too subtly. Rory felt look.

"There was no look. Really." This was useless. "I'm going." Rory turned, grabbing her coat and keys.

"Be careful! You get pregnant, I'm not saving your ass!" Anna called out as Rory reached the door. Rory rolled her eyes, slamming the door behind her as she heard Anna mumble something about "ungrateful bitches".

ooo

What the hell was she doing here?

Rory wandered around Washington Square Park, looking for a guy she had met less than a day before. She knew practically nothing about him, and he most definitely didn't know her. She didn't even know that he'd be here. Sure he'd dropped the hint, but she couldn't know that he'd be her. Why should she trust that he hadn't forgotten her by morning?

She shook her head slightly. She would not allow herself to get this worked up over a boy. She was so much stronger than that.

Well, she thought she was. She let out a little sigh, and began to circle the park again. Maybe she missed him the first time.

She was about to give up and turn around, go back to the hellhole she called an apartment, or maybe browse a bookstore for a few hours, when she saw the telltale nest of unruly dark hair a few feet away. She smiled, despite herself, and walked over to the bench where he was sitting, peering over to make sure it was him before announcing her presence.

"Hey." At her voice, he turned around, smirking as he recognized her. She looked different in the daylight, almost innocent (despite the guarded look constantly carried in those big blue eyes). She seemed more real, not so done up. He liked it.

"Hey, yourself." She snaked around the bench, and sat, somewhat awkwardly, next to him.

"So," she began, not sure where to begin. "I like this place. It's nice. I don't come here often, but it's nice."

"Yeah, it is. Much cooler than Central Park."

"Oh, yes."

"It's where David Lee Roth got busted."

"Right, right. I hope he's got it together now."

She sat staring at him, unsure of what to do or say. She wasn't used having an actual conversation with a boy, much less one who may actually be at her intellectual level. "What are you reading?" she asked, nodding towards his book. He seemed caught off guard for a moment, clearly not used to this either. That calmed her, somehow.

"Oh. The Sun Also Rises. Hemingway." Rory wrinkled her nose, and he had to laugh. "What? Not a fan of Ernest?"

"I just don't understand stand how you can read him. I mean, he's so…boring. Literary equivalent to a sleeping pill."

"Oh, is that so?"

"Yep. But hey, it's okay if you're an insomniac, I suppose." Jess rolled his eyes.

"Well, what do you read? What do you consider literary coffee?"

Rory smiled shyly, reaching into her coat pocket and pulling out a paperback. Jess groaned.

"The Fountainhead? Seriously?"

"What's wrong with Rand?" Rory asked defensively.

"She's a political nut."

"She's brilliant!"

"Brilliantly psychotic." Rory rolled her eyes, smacking him on the arm lightly. "Hey!" She laughed, and he had to smile. She sounded sweet. He had a hard time believing this was the same broken girl he had met the night before.

They sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments. Rory sighed heavily, leaning her head on Jess's shoulder. He was bit taken a back; he didn't think she'd be that bold. Then again, he supposed there were a lot of things he didn't know about her.

"I'm hungry," she said after a few seconds. Her stomach growled, confirming her statement. He smirked at her, and stood up, pulling her off the bench.

"I know a place."