A/N: I am a writing machine! This story just keeps coming out almost faster than I can type it!
My school gets out the 21st, so I'll have a lot more writing time on my hands… hopefully.
Once again, to my awesome anonymous reviewer, so: (in response to your review to chapter 5) Glad I can help: )
To my other anonymous reviewer, Anonymous: You were right on track in your review to chapter 5… Nice job!
On Sunday, the diner was too busy for Luke to leave, so he told Caesar he'd take the next couple of days off. He got in his truck Monday morning to go – you guessed it folks (actually, you didn't…) – ring shopping.
Now, normally, Luke Danes wouldn't be caught dead shopping for anything besides food and possibly clothes. But this was for Lorelai, and as we all know, when it comes to her – all bets are off. There's nothing he wouldn't do.
He spent two days scouring the surrounding towns, including Hartford the cesspool, and found nothing. He didn't see anything good enough for her, or perhaps he just had no idea what to get. He figured it was some of both, but mostly the latter.
By Wednesday, he'd given up. He decided on a different plan of action.
Wednesday night, the phone rang. Lorelai dug it out from the massive pile of clothing on the couch. "Hello?"
"Is Rory there?" the caller sounded frantic.
"Who is this?" Lorelai replied, confused.
"It's Paris."
"Oh, hey Paris. Rory's not here. She's staying at the grandparents. You have her cell number, right?"
"Yeah, thanks." And she hung up.
Lorelai hung up as well and set the phone on the coffee table, completely mystified. What was up with Paris?
Luke went upstairs to his apartment. He opened the safe and retrieved a key from the very back. He took the key to his desk and used it to open the bottom right-hand drawer.
Luke pulled out a shoebox and set it on his kitchen table. He sat down in a chair and sighed. The last time he'd even looked at this box was… he couldn't even remember. That's how long it had been. He gingerly removed the lid and coughed through the cloud of dust this action created. He dug through the loose photos and random memorabilia until he saw what he was looking for. Luke pulled out the small box and replaced the shoebox lid. He put the box back in the drawer, locked it, and returned the key to the safe. He picked up the box on the table and popped it open.
It was just as beautiful as he remembered.
Rory was sitting on the couch reading a book when her cell phone rang. She flipped it open. "Hello?"
"Rory?"
"Yes." She replied.
"It's Paris."
"Oh, hey Paris."
"I have a problem."
"Shoot."
"I saw Jamie this weekend."
"What?"
"I went by myself to New York for the weekend."
"Never go to New York alone, Paris! Have you heard what happens there?"
"Rory, I'm trying to tell you what happened!"
"Sorry."
"Okay, so I checked into my hotel and I went up to my room. I was about to go in when I look over, and there's Jamie. Just… standing there. And I walk towards him, and he walks towards me and I say 'Hi' and he says 'Hi'. Then I say 'How's Princeton?' he says 'Good. How's Yale?' I say 'Good' and the next thing I know we're kissing. And then we were in my room and - Rory I slept with Jamie!"
"Wow. Okay… Just like that?"
"Just like that. So… what do you think?"
"Well… are you still with Doyle?"
"Yes."
"Did you make arrangements to see Jamie again?"
"No. After, he just… left. Just turned around and left. I don't think I'll ever see him again."
"Then why are you talking to me about this?"
"I had to tell someone. I kept it to myself, but then I couldn't concentrate on anything. I was worried that I handled it wrong."
"You handled it fine, Paris. But what about Doyle?"
"What do you mean?"
"Are you going to tell him?"
"No."
"Okay."
"Okay."
"Well… while we're discussing big, important things, I have something to tell you."
"Go ahead."
"I'm… dropping out of Yale."
"What?"
Cliffhanger! Yay! Well… How'd you like it? Good? Not good? Tell please!
And sorry about the somewhat awkward Paris moment… I needed a reason for Paris to call Rory and boy troubles just seemed to be it!