Authors Note: Jewls13 suggested I not make Tristan's part in first person b/c it's distracting and when I actually thought about itI decided that with the different things I planned having to happen in the story that'sprobably a good idea, so everyone is in second person. Thanks Jewls13!
Mom, I will kill you.
Rory mentally wrote the death note in her mind as she sat in the limo. Being the methodical girl she was, she methodically made a list of complaints.
For one, she was wearing a white strapless gown that ABC provided.
For two, her hair wasn't up and pretty like contestant number 4, it was curled around her shoulders like a barbie doll when you take their ponitail down for the first time in five years.
For three, the limo smelled funny.
For four, there was a camera guy who smelled, no, it wasn't the limo that smelled, it was the camera guy. A camera guy with fake hair. Oh, it was much too obvious that the hair was fake.
"Ok. We'll get to the walk way, step out of the limo, pause for the camera to take you in, then walk foward and greet the guy." Grease-y fake hair informed her.
"You told me twice." She replied irratably.
"He's not going to fall in love with you if you're snappy." He retorted.
Rory paused, struck with the novel concept. Wait, if I'm rude...he'll kick me out first round and I won't have to deal with this! No one remembers the first show cuts anyway!
She smiled, almost slyly. She'd back back at her mother. Ha.
He stood in front of the grand mansion he'd live in for all of filming. He'd all ready met five girls. Dang,she was fiiiine. I didn't exactly want to be here, but things were looking up. And the best part was, He got to be a jerk! How cool is that! Where you get to be a jerk, and say all those impolite comments and there was no whiplash!
The sixth limo pulled up. It's so obvious they only have three limos and they keep taking them around to pick each of the twenty five girls up.
The black gleamed against the porch lights and it pulled to a rolling stop, the door opened.He made sure to have a cocky smirk. One that he'd practically trade-marked at Chilton.
The limo's door opened slowly. Tristan pushed his hair back...and watched a white dress slide out and she pushed hair pushed out of her own face. She tripped slightly, pushing her hair back again. Haha, what a...His breath caught. Hadn't they said he'd be meeting all these girls for the first time? How could...
Mary.
Rory smirked slyly to herself as she nearly tripped getting out of the car. No man liked a clumsy woman. She pushed her hair out of her face and looked up. Her eyes locked on the guy and she nearly passed out.
The touseled hair, the infamous smirk, the perfect stance of suave intuition...
Tristan DuGrey, in the flesh, stood before her. She hadn't seen him, since...since, since...A million thoughts should have been racing through her heads, commentary of a million lives. Instead ofa pounding thumping typical of a shock, an ebbing emotion throbbed through her head. A dormant feeling awoke.
She felt like she was in high school again watching Tristan stroll by with a flavor of the week on one side, and his posse of groupies on the other.
Bible boy.
She straitened and walked toward him, cameras poised at them as they became part of the same camera frame.
"Hi, I'm Rory." She forced her hand out, a handshake contrary to the usual hug and peck on the cheek.
He took her hand lightly and shook it. "Tristan. Glad you're here."
"Good to be here."
"Thanks for coming Mary." His electric blue eyes pierced her teasingly.
The immature son of a gun hasn't grown up yet. "That was Rory." She corrected.
"Right."
She took a step back, careful not to look at the camera. "I'll see you inside."
"I look foward to it."
"Right." She practically mimicked him as she started into the mansion.
Tristan looked after her, unsure. For one, he was shocked she was here. He hadn't seen her since Romeo and Juliet at Chilton. And second, the way she carried herself as she walked over to him. She stood tall, her back strait, her eyes meeting his without the blushing flickerance he'd been used to.
She thinks I'm the jerk I was in high school...
Slow and steady always wins the race. No worries, chapters get longer,faster, andwith more content, but the slowness is always more fun:)
-Thought's Pen