Title: Lies
Rating: G
Timeline: Late season 5/season 6.
Author's note: This fic is kinda schitzophrenic. It's also the first GG fic I've ever written.
It had been a year, maybe longer, since you'd seen him. And, to be honest, you hadn't really thought about him. He would cross your mind at the most random times, when you were reading a certain book or listening to Bjork. But that's all he did, cross your mind, he never stayed. Maybe you pushed him out of your mind intentionally, maybe you just couldn't hold on to the memory of a boy who was always leaving, never staying.
It was always worse when you were at Luke's and you would lose track of time, thinking it was years ago, and you would look up at the stairs, half-expecting him to rush down them. But he never did.
So, you moved on. It was the only choice you had. After all, Rory Gilmore doesn't wallow.
And you hadn't. Not in the seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, or years after he left.
Maybe that's why you were so angry when he showed up at Yale. You hadn't cried over him. You told yourself he wasn't the sort of boy worth crying over.
And you had wanted to be right, to never cry over him, to never have him prove you wrong.
But he had proved you wrong. You had always had a sneaking suspicion that he would.
But still, he showed up and he said things that Jess doesn't say. The first time, he said that he loved you. And you just couldn't understand how someone who would hold such little regard for himself could actually care, even love, another person. You wondered if he even knew what that word meant. Sure, he had read about it countless times in those books of his. Sure, it might have been mentioned in the music he listen to. But did he know love? Did he know what it was, what it felt like? Did he know anything at all?
The second time had been just as spontaneous, just as confusing. He told you to come with him. It was ludicrous and ridiculous and you didn't have time to make a Pros and Cons list about it. You didn't have time to do anything, except to tell him no.
But a part of you, a part of you that you had thought had left when he did, wanted to go.
You wanted to go. You wanted to leave with Jess. And if that small revelation wasn't bad enough, the other words he said only made it worse.
He said that he could be what you needed now. And maybe that was true. But, if you were really being honest with yourself, he had always been what you needed. He just hadn't stuck around long enough to realize that.
He said that you were suppose to be together, that he had known it since the moment he saw you. You didn't actually believe that. You didn't think that he would have had those thoughts way back when. But maybe...
He told you not to say no just so he would leave, just to make him stop talking. He said to only say no if you really didn't want to be with him.
You said no for the wrong reason.
You wanted him to leave. It seemed like everything was spinning and you were starting to get a headache. You couldn't comprehend everything he was saying, the weight of it all. Did he really mean it? And did it even matter anymore?
You wanted him to stop talking. You didn't want him to say anything else. Who knows what he would have said. Who knows what you would have said. Who knows what you would have done.
After he leaves, you practice lying in the mirror, so that on the off chance that he shows up again, you can say more than one word. You're focusing on sentences now. Maybe even a paragraph soon.
"I don't love you," you say to your reflection.
And it scares you how unconvincing you sound.
You try again. A variation on a theme.
"I never loved you." You want the words to be harsh and angry and truthful.
But they fall flat against the truth. Because the truth is something entirely different.
"I'm with Logan now. I love Logan now."
No. No. Wrong. Don't say the second now. It implies that you loved someone before him. And you know that Jess would read into it. He would see what's really there.
And this time, you succeed at lying.
You are able to control most of the things that would give you away.
You can control what you say and what you do.
You can't control what you think. But that's okay, because no one can read your thoughts. At least, you hope he can't do that anymore.
You hadn't reached the point of denial until you had dreamed of him. Until then, you had been able to convince yourself that the only reason you thought of him was because he kept showing up.
But when you dreamed of him, you knew that you had gone past the point of no return, when he invaded your subconscious.
You start kissing Logan with your eyes open.
This is because everytime you closed your eyes, you see the other boy, not the blonde one.
You think that this might be some form of cheating, thinking of someone else while kissing your boyfriend.
So you keep your eyes open, focusing in on Logan.
It takes a Jimmy Eat World song to make you realize that this is not cheating. This is lying.
Like the kind you've been practicing in front of your bathroom mirror.
It's a lie. A kiss with open eyes.
He calls you at 3 a.m. and rambles on and on about a song that he heard.
You say nothing.
You don't have 3 a.m. conversations with boys that aren't your boyfriend.
He says that he was listening to Jimmy Eat World. He begins to explain the lyrics and how they apply to their situation.
You think this is funny. You are thousands of miles away from each other, and yet you manage to have a situation.
He says that he walked away from you. He did it because he thought that he needed to.
And he was proud of himself for doing something, for once, that he needed.
But it's a false sense of accomplishment.
Never thought I'd walk away from you. I did. But it's a false sense of accomplishment.
An hour later, you smash your CD into a million tiny pieces.
He calls you more frequently. And for some reason, you pick up.
He asks you if it would make a difference if he said that he doesn't think he'll ever love anyone as much as he loves you.
"No, I don't think it would."
You have come to find that you are a better liar than you thought you were.