AN – Hey I'm back. Here's another cooked up cookie I have for y'all. Need I say which one this is?

Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow

Tristan stepped through the threshold of Chilton with his father. The soft clicks of their shoes were the only noise they created as they ignored the noise from the auditorium. Tristan was to clean out the last of his school things from his locker.

They came to locker 3113 and Tristan spun the locker combination he memorized for the last time. He pulled a trash can that was conveniently placed by the neighboring lockers closer.

"I am going to see Headmaster Charleston," Clint DuGrey told his son. "I'll meet you by the entrance. Don't dilly-dally."

One by one his notebooks and school binders were thrown in it, as well as old, used up pens. Pictures and phone numbers of girls he received were thrown out as well. Notes from numerous girls were unceremoniously dumped in the garbage. He came upon newspaper clippings he had saved and looked at the name on the byline.

Rory Gilmore.

He wasn't exactly sure what made him like this girl so much. He didn't love her that he knew. Maybe in time he would have loved her.

She was new. She was different. She was everything he did not know and nothing he expected any one to be,

She was refreshing.

She was not another notch on his bedpost, although it started out that way.

He did everything he could to please her… most of the time. The PJ Harvey tickets, when he went out with Paris… those he did just for her. But she didn't notice.

As he thought about this, he realized that was the reason why he went through the safe with Duncan and Bowman. He wanted an out. An out he wouldn't ever have here in Chilton. Not when she's near.

There were other options. There was juvenile prison, and there was community service, and of course; his grandfather could have easily taken him under his wing to different countries where he would not be able to use the DuGrey fortune like the Philippines, China, India, Japan, Hong Kong, Vietnam or Singapore. Places where he would learn exactly what other people missed.

But he chose military school. Somewhere close to home, but far away enough so he wouldn't see her.

It was the out he needed. The out he sought.

To get over himself, and get over the idea of her. It wasn't her whom he fell for. It was her personality.

"The first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem," Tristan thought. "I like Rory Gilmore. I like her much similar to the same way I liked new toys."

Novelty. Simple novelty was what drew him to her.

Tristan smiled. He perused the articles she wrote one last time before throwing them in the trash and thought, "Good-bye, Lorelai Leigh Gilmore."

He removed the book covers from the text books that were lent to him and placed each on the floor. He placed each unused pen, eraser and pencil in his pockets, and unused notebooks and binders in his arms. After the locker was empty and bare, he closed it and picked up the books and walked to his homeroom, a couple of rooms away from his locker.

He opened and closed the unlocked door (as was instructed by the headmaster when he was notified by his leave) and was missed by a blonde girl walking furiously in the hallway.

On his teacher's desk, he placed the books where it would be easily found in the morning. He looked around the dimly lit classroom. After spotting his chair, he walked to it then sat down and found the little 'M' he carved on a corner of the desk. He took a pencil from his pocket and traced the carving with its point.

He slowly stopped and realized that the nervousness he felt whenever he saw that was gone.

He was getting better already.

---

"I knew he was going to do this, but no one wanted to listen to me!" Paris exclaimed. "It was all 'Let's make Tristan Romeo, he's hot!'," The blonde was close to ripping her director's manual and throwing a tantrum like a five year old.

Rory was about to open her mouth and say something to placate the girl when someone walked up to them.

Tristan gave each a wry smile and an apologetic gaze to Paris. Before he could say a word, Paris let her anger out, "Where have you been? You have to get dressed! We're on in ten minutes!"

He normally wouldn't have cared to explain but as he got scolded by his childhood friend, he realized that she would be extremely disappointed in him. Guilt seized him powerfully. Looking in her furious eyes, he braced himself for what he was about to say. "I'm sorry Paris, but I can't." He ran a hand through his blond hair. He had forgotten how important this was to her. Now, he felt more of a jerk.

Taken aback, the angry blonde asked in a slightly less aggravated tone, "Why not?" Tristan never apologized in that manner before. He just didn't say sorry to anyone.

Rory observed the unraveling scene. He only looked like that one other time. Like a little boy who needed to be comforted. That time in the Lynn's solarium, during Madeline's party when they were both sitting on the piano bench. She was about to add her two cents in, when he spoke.

Tristan never felt the need to explain his actions since the PJ Harvey fiasco to anyone. He was letting Paris down. He was letting Rory down. He let his parents down. He let his grandparents down. And lastly, he let himself down.

"Par, I did something stupid. As much as I want to rewind the hands of time, I can't. I got pulled out of Chilton."

Paris stared at him as he said this. She heaved a sigh after he said he was no longer enrolled in school. Before he could continue saying "My father is," she wordlessly turned on her heel and marched away from them quickly.

He sighed too, and muttered, "And she's unhappy." He thought, "What a mess I have made." He inevitably turned toward the other person in the hallway.

Rory Gilmore asked him, "What do you mean you got pulled out of school? What happened?"

Looking at her, he realized that he truly liked her. Blood rushed in his veins and his heart pumped just a bit faster. She was decked in her Juliet costume, which her mother made. It was a shame he won't get a chance to wear the costume her mother made for him. He gave her an ironic smile. Keeping his ego in check, he said, "I'd really rather not divulge my moment of disgrace to you. However, I will tell you that I did something severely upsetting that I get to ponder about it in military school."

"Wow." Too many thoughts swam in her head. She did not know what else to say.

"Well, I can imagine you're overwhelmed with the relief in knowing that soon I will be gone," Tristan chuckled wryly.

She couldn't think of anything to say to deny what she would have felt earlier. "I'm so sorry," she offered.

"Don't be. I'm a big boy. I can handle it." He looked at her, and memorized her features.

She blushed prettily at his gentle gaze. She looked down and away from his eyes.

Ignoring his common sense, he placed a tender hand on her chin and mildly forced her to meet his eyes. He saw her usual compassion for him, and the shyness that condemned her to be forever his Mary.

Neither of the two noticed their audience. Dean watched from just outside the East Auditorium Door with Lorelai and Sookie. Paris watched from the corner with a Romeo costume in her arms and a Romeo costume on her. Mr. DuGrey and Headmaster Charleston looked on from the West Auditorium Door.

Tristan's mind screamed for him to get a grip and it won against his achy breaky heart. "I gotta go. My dad's probably wondering where I am," he said though his hand didn't let go of her chin.

She breathed out a soft, "Yeah."

Not seeing anything in her eyes, Tristan dropped his hand and looked passed her shoulder and saw their audience there. "So, uhh," he said hesitantly. "I might kiss you good-bye." He focused his gaze on her forehead. "But your boyfriend is watching." He forced himself to make eye contact.

She smiled a sad smile. She didn't really want him to go. She didn't know how to make him stay. Not in anyway that would complicate things. So she kept her mouth shut. But, she embraced him.

He noticed Paris from the corner of his eye and gave another wry smile. His friend looked like a man. His spirit lightened with the thought that they will do fine. That was one thing off his chest. At least his departure woudn't inflict a devastating damage to their project.

There was one thing left to do. Totell her his feelings in a way only a couple of people would understand completely. He slowly and reluctantly eased out of the intimate position he and Rory stood in and recited,

"A thousand times the worse, to want thy light.

Love goes toward love as schoolboys from their books,

But love from love, toward school with heavy books."

As he said this, his father made his way toward the two. He stopped in front of them as he finished the quote.

"Time to go, Tristan." Clint said and walked passed. He stopped at the exit and waited for Tristan to say his last good-byes.

"Yes, sir," Tristan answered quietly. He turned one last time to Rory, whose eyes misted with the quote. He gave her one last smile and said, "Take care of yourself… Mary." Then he turned around and walked toward his father, who saw his sadness through the façade he put up. He never saw the tear that slipped down his Mary's cheek as he walked out of her life, although his father did.

---

"Act II, scene ii, lines 154-156?" Paris said as she passed Rory. "That's impressive. You better start sucking on an Altoid, Mary. Get going, and be dead." She ran down the hallway, and out into the parking lot. She caught up to Tristan just before he slid into his father's Benz and unceremoniously dumped his custom-tailored Romeo costume in his arms.

"Lorelai made this for you, and it belongs to you. You could use it as a Halloween costume for next year, or your next Shakespeare project." She then stood there, awkwardly for a moment then turned to go back inside.

He quickly placed the clothes in the backseat, caught her by the wrist and gave her a bear hug. "Break a leg, Paris." He said her name the French way, where they don't pronounce the 's'.

She hugged back and let out a sniffle. She buried her face in his coat, and shivered in the cold. "I am going to hunt you down if we don't get an A, DuGrey."

He laughed, drew back and wiped her tears with his hand. "I would expect nothing less, Gellar." He procured a handkerchief from his pocket and dried her tears. Then he offered it to her to blow her nose with.

She refused his proffered cloth and pulled out her own. "You better go." Her voice shook with emotion. Then she turned away from him and walked. She only turned back to tell him, "Have a safe trip, Tristan." Then she disappeared in the school.

With a heavy sigh, Tristan got in the car and his father drove to the airport. Once there he said before he got out of the car, "Dad?"

"Yes son?" Clint DuGrey thought that his son would fight for his right to stay. After all, Tristan proved that he was needed here. That his true friends needed him to stay. To his surprise, his son said something else.

"Please keep my costume safe in my room. I'll be back for it… soon."