When Jess reached the edge of the bridge, he stopped short. Rory was lying in the middle, her eyes closed and her legs swinging gently above the water. She looked like a little girl, waiting there for her mom to come find her while the world spun behind closed eyelids. She looked like a twelve-year-old princess dreaming about Prince Charming. She was beautiful. And he would have smiled, if not for the troubled expression that flickered across her face before disappearing under a mask of calm. It seemed like she was trying hard to think of happy things but couldn't think of anything at the moment.
Stepping out on the wood, he made sure that his footsteps made noise so that his voice wouldn't surprise her. She didn't move, though. Instead of opening her eyes, she closed them tighter, as if trying to make her intruder disappear by sheer will of mind. Something was wrong.
"Hey," he said softly, a hint of his concern inadvertently bleeding into his voice though he was trying to sound light. "You know, that's no way to implement those self-defense lessons. What if I was a mugger?"
Finally, she opened her eyes and he saw a smile in them. "Then I would push you off the bridge...again," she replied lightly.
"So what's up?" he asked lying down with her and laying his head on her stomach. "You looked like something was wrong when I walked up."
"Just hoping that it was you," she replied, her voice a little distant, and he looked up at her.
"Who else would you be expecting?" he asked, his concern returning full force. "Did something happen?"
"Relax," she instructed, looking with reassurance into his eyes. "As you can tell, I'm fine. There's nothing to get all bothered about, so you can check that look in your eyes."
"What look?" he asked innocently. "I don't have a look."
"You so have a look," she told him, propping herself up on her elbows. "Whenever you think someone's said an unkind word to me, you get this look in your eyes like you're ready to go beat someone up. I don't need that."
"Fine," he sighed. "See, no look. Consider the look checked."
"Thank you," she smiled lying back again.
"But something did happen?" he deduced, his voice a little calmer. "John just left you ten minutes ago. Did Dean come back?"
"Yeah," she sighed quietly. "He came, and I yelled at him, and he yelled back, and then he got all angry-faced and went away. It was nothing really."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah," she assured him, idly drawing little circles in his hair. "Just the usual. Though I do think that this time he's going to leave me alone...at least for a while. Earns the whole encounter three cheers from me."
"Hip-hip-hooray," he chuckled.
"Let's just change the subject," Rory suggested. "What have you been up to?"
"Not much," he replied. "I just hung out in the diner and served the people who didn't get baskets this year."
"Who was that?"
"Well," he laughed softly, "Kirk and...No, I guess it was just Kirk. Man, that guy needs a girlfriend, or a dog, or maybe an imaginary friend."
Rory chuckled, shifting Jess's head with the movement. He turned so that his ear was flat against her stomach and just stayed that way for a few minutes. He listened to the sound of her laughter and felt every movement of her breath.
"Do you remember Jay's?" he asked her suddenly, breaking the almost sacred silence. "Do you remember that last day in Jay's?"
"Yes," she replied looking down to meet his eyes.
"Do you remember what you asked me?"
She thought back on the conversation. They were both so sad that day, unaware if they would ever see each other again, never mind be together. That entire day was locked into her memory with all of her memories from New York.
"I asked if I would ever get the chance to listen to you breathe again," she replied softly, a smile playing over her lips.
"Well," he replied returning her smile, his head still rested on her stomach, "here we are, together again, and here I am listening to you breathe."
"Yes you are."
There was another silence as he closed his eyes. "I don't think I fully understood that question until about twenty seconds ago."
Rory was completely stunned. She had no idea how to respond, or what to do. All she knew was that she couldn't imagine wanting to be anywhere in the world besides there with him. She thought she could have loved him.
Then, opening his eyes again, Jess sat up, kissed her softly on the lips and forehead, and pulled her into a sitting position. "So what's for lunch?" he asked opening her picnic basket.
Rory laughed softly to herself, wondering how things had ended up the way they were.
"So how long did the doctors say I had to stay in this bed?" Lorelai asked, shifting uncomfortably to prove her point.
"Only until Monday morning," Luke assured her. "Just relax and enjoy watching soap operas all day."
"Soap operas can only take up about four hours of my day," she told him. "What am I supposed to do with the other twenty? If you haven't noticed, daytime television sucks."
"You watch four hours of soap operas a day?" he marveled, ignoring her question. "No wonder your mind is practically bursting with useless information. You spend four hours a day killing anything intellectual that might try to intrude."
"Hey!" she cried. "You're here to cheer me up, remember? I am insulted. I will now proceed to pout."
Before she had the chance, Luke leaned forward and kissed her softly on the lips, silencing any other arguments from her.
"Hm," she said when they separated, "the pouting has left the building."
They both smiled, leaning in for another kiss when there was a soft knock at the door.
"Ignore it," Lorelai whispered conspiratorially. "Maybe they'll go away."
"Or they'll assume you're asleep and come in anyway," Luke pointed out.
"Damn your logic," she sighed, pulling further away from him. "Come in," she called to whoever dared to interrupt her happy time.
"Hello," she heard a familiar voice and her eyes widened. "I was just looking for my favorite sister. You haven't by any chance seen her around, have you?"
"Grace!" she screamed, drawing a look from Luke, her sour mood completely diminished. "What are you doing here?"
"John and I decided to come for the weekend," Grace replied hugging her. "And of course, when I heard you were in the hospital, how could I not come check on you? What's going on?"
"I'm fine," Lorelai assured her. "Just an overrated dizzy spell. I swear these people are paranoid."
"Well I'm just glad you're okay," Grace smiled. "Oh," she said only then noticing Luke, "was I interrupting something?"
"Not enough for me to make you leave," Lorelai answered. "Grace, this is Luke. Luke, this is Grace."
"Nice to meet you," Luke said politely, shaking her hand. "And this is your sister?" he questioned Lorelai. "I didn't know you had a sister."
"Well, technically, I don't," she replied. "But we might as well be. We grew up in Hartford together until I ended up out here. She's actually Chris' sister, so she's Rory's aunt, which makes her my...almost sister-in-law...or something..."
"Don't even try to work it all out in your head," Grace told her. "For all intents and purposes, we're close enough to be sisters. Let's leave it at that."
"Works for me," Lorelai smiled.
"Hey, do either of you want coffee from the lobby?" Luke asked. "We're all out here."
"Yes, please," Lorelai piped up. "Just fill up the whole thermos, 'cause Grace here can drink almost as much as I can."
"Not quite," Grace smiled. "I don't think anyone on earth could drink a Gilmore under the table, in coffee or anything else."
"We are so not bringing that up here," Lorelai said with a smile and a warning glare.
"Do I want to know what you're talking about?" Luke asked, already knowing the answer.
"No," the women said in unison, and then burst out laughing.
"Yeah, so I'm gonna go now," he said, not waiting for a reply before heading out the door.
As Luke left, he shut the door behind him, knowing that the girls would instantly be lost in squeals and giggles and all other forms of girl talk. Figuring that they'd be at it for a while, he headed for the door. The least he could do was get them decent coffee from the diner instead of the crap they had in the lobby.
"So," Grace said as soon as the door was closed, "what's with the honey in the baseball cap?"
Lorelai laughed at the description. "That's Luke," she smiled widely.
"And?" Grace prompted. "That's not all you're giving me. You know I could blackmail the information out of you."
"You wouldn't dare," Lorelai replied glaring playfully at her again. "Luke and I just started dating. He works at the diner here in town. You know, that one I always rave about."
"Oh!" she cried. "That's Luke's Luke? That's the Luke's Luke?"
"Yup," Lorelai smiled. "He's my personal coffee man."
"Well that's a match made in heaven if I ever saw one," Grace chuckled. "How come you didn't call me and let me know about this? This is headline news!"
"It just happened this morning," Lorelai apologized. "Plus, the whole hospital thing gives me some pity points. You can't kill an injured woman, right?"
"Okay," Grace sighed dramatically. "I guess you're forgiven. Just don't let it happen again."
"Promise," Lorelai chuckled.
"These are really good," Jess said, a hint of surprise in his voice as he took another bite of his cookie.
"Don't sound so amazed," Rory swatted him on the arm. "A girl could get offended by a tone of voice like that."
"No really," he said trying to hide a smirk. "They're good. They weren't the kind where you just cut the dough and bake, right?"
"Nope," she replied proudly. "Everything was from scratch."
"My very own Betty Crocker," he chuckled. "I'm so proud."
"Don't get used to it," she warned. "Cooking an entire meal once a year is quite enough for me."
"Fair enough," he nodded. "Thank you for doing all this."
"So it was worth it, right?" she grinned. "The whole 'participating in this town's inane archaic rituals' thing was worth it?"
"Well," he said with teasing hesitation, "I guess since you went to the trouble of putting this basket together, it was worth it."
"Thank you," she said with satisfaction.
"Plus," he continued, "the fact that I didn't have to pay the outrageous amount of money it took to buy said basket did help."
Rory's eyes widened with amused indignation. "I can't believe it!" she cried. "The only reason it was worth it was because it was free, is that it?"
"Um, of course not," he replied shifting his eyes with mock guilt.
"Oh, you!" she laughed throwing a potato chip at him. "Remind me to never do anything nice for you ever again."
"Oh, come on," he smiled putting an arm around her waist, "you know I appreciate all this." When she didn't answer, he scooted closer to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and leaning in close. "Really," he whispered, kissing her just behind the ear. "Thank you."
"Yeah, whatever," a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "You're so full of crap, you know that?"
"Yeah," he replied with a smirk. "But you don't mind."
"No," she sighed reluctantly. "I guess I don't."
Jess smiled, leaning his head on her shoulder. Again, Rory sighed, rolling her eyes at the innocent look he was giving her.
"So full of crap," she repeated, laughing, before hooking her arm around his back and pushing him into the river.
"And the score is...drum roll please..." Rory said as Jess resurfaced, "Rory: two; Jess: the big zero!"
Standing up, she began dancing around like a little kid who'd just won at Candyland.
"Are you feeling better now?" Jess asked, not the least annoyed.
"Very much so," she giggled. "Who knew that this place could be so cathartic?"
"I'm glad you find pushing your boyfriend into the river such an exciting new hobby," he mused. "Now how about helping me out?"
"No way, mister," she said dodging the hand he held out as if it was white hot. "Just because you fell for my trick twice doesn't mean I'll fall for yours. You're not pulling me into that water."
"You go on thinking that," Jess said, a mischievous spark in his eyes as he pulled himself back up onto the bridge.
"Jess," she said, her voice warning as she backed away from him. "Jess, if you're thinking what I think you're thinking, then just stop thinking altogether. Or maybe you should be thinking a little more clearly, because what I think you're thinking is a very bad thought."
"Rory," he said in a singsong voice, advancing toward her.
"Yes?" she asked with wide eyes as she almost backed off the other side of the bridge.
"You talk too much," he told her.
Then, before she could escape, he rushed her, compelling both of them off the other side of the bridge and into the water.
Luke got out of the truck in front of the diner, curiously looking in the window. Why is the place still open?
Opening the door, he stared a moment at the teenaged boy standing behind the counter ringing up a couple's bill.
"Who are you?" he asked, bewildered.
"Oh, hi," the boy said politely. "You must be Luke. Jess said to look for a guy in flannel. That is you, right?"
"Who are you?" he asked again.
"I'm John," the boy replied. "I'm Jess's friend and Rory's cousin. I'm sure you know Rory Gilmore. I'm sure she's your biggest customer, besides Lorelai. She talked about this place all the time."
"Wait, you're Rory's cousin?" Luke asked. "What are you doing running my diner?"
"Oh," John said. "Well, Jess wanted to go have lunch with Rory, but there were customers here, so instead of kicking them all out, I volunteered to wait tables. I worked a restaurant for a while back in New York so I pretty much know what I'm doing, and that Caesar guy is cooking so you don't have to worry about me burning the place down. It's all covered."
Luke just stared at the boy for a few minutes, struck dumb.
"I can get out if you want," John offered good-naturedly. "I mean, if you don't want some strange guy in charge of your cash register, I completely understand, but I can offer Rory as a reference for me. I don't steal. And if you want to kill Jess for leaving me in charge, he and Rory are having lunch on the bridge down the road."
"Thanks," Luke said, finally loosening his tongue. "Um, I was just at the hospital and I came here to get some coffee for Lorelai and...well, I guess she's your mom, right?"
"Right," John replied. "That is if you're talking about a brunette who's only slightly saner than Lorelai"
"Yeah," Luke replied. "That's the one. Anyway, I was just coming to get them some coffee. You don't have to stick around here, though. I can just close up."
"What else am I going to do?" John pointed out. "My mom is at the hospital and the only two other people I know in town are probably being all coupled and sickening at the moment."
"You're right," Luke grimaced at the thought. "You definitely don't want to be there. Fine, you can stay here if you want."
"Thanks," John said as Luke filled a thermos from the coffeepot. "I promise I'll be good."
"No, thank you," Luke replied. "It was nice to meet you, John."
"You too, Luke," John smiled, shaking Luke's hand again. "See you later."
With a brief nod, Luke left the diner again, still in somewhat of a state of shock.
When they resurfaced, Rory swatted Jess hard in the arm. He, however, never loosened his tight hold around her waist.
"This water is not deep enough for a stunt like that," she cried, though she couldn't hide the grin plastered all over her face. "I could have hit my head on the bottom and drowned. You could have killed me!"
"You think I would let you die?" he asked, a satisfied smirk on his lips. "Come on, you know I would have saved you."
"A likely story," she narrowed her eyes at him. "You know, this ending up in the lake thing is going to have to stop when it's colder. I don't want to catch pneumonia just for the sake of nostalgia."
"Same goes for you," he said giving her a stern look. "Remember, both times we ended up in here, you started it."
"Hey," she said defensively, "is it my fault that you say something and I get the sudden, uncontrollable urge to see your impression of a drowned rat?"
He just stared at her for a moment, his eyebrows arched. "Yes," he laughed. "That is your fault!"
"Oh," she replied simply, a tiny pleased smile on her lips. "Okay then."
He shook his head with amused disbelief before dunking her under again.
"Hey!" she screamed, pushing him away from her as she surfaced. "That is enough of that!"
He tried pulling her closer, but she just pushed him away again. "No," she said turning away. "I'm done with you now."
"Oh come on," he laughed. "Don't be like that."
"You—"
He cut her off, taking her by the shoulder and pulling her into a kiss that made her forget everything she was about to say. She couldn't have described it if she'd tried. It was sweet and gentle and passionate, just like every other kiss they'd shared, but there was something different there as well. There was something...unchaste...about it. There was something deeper that she couldn't explain and hadn't expected.
As she abandoned herself to the kiss, sliding her hands around his waist, he backed her up until she hit the embankment. Barely noticing, she leaned against it so that he was bent over her, propped up on his elbows.
Rory could have been in the middle of Times Square for all she knew. All she knew, all she could feel, was the way Jess was tangling his fingers in her wet hair and moving his lips over hers. She balled the front of his shirt in her fists, needing something to hold onto so she wouldn't lose herself. Slowly, his lips moved away from hers, tracing their way down her jaw line to the pulse point on her neck. Tilting her head, she bit her lip and tried not to go crazy, her hands creeping up under his shirt.
"Rory," he whispered after an eternity. "Rory, you have to make me stop."
She looked up at him, confusion in her dizzy eyes. "Why?" she asked breathlessly.
"Because," he replied stepping away from her, looking down almost guiltily, "if you don't stop me now, I'm going to do something you're going to regret."
"But—" she tried to interject, but he continued, ignoring her protest.
"Trust me, Rory," he said, his voice choked and almost desperate. "I don't want to do anything that you're going to hate me or yourself for later."
"I couldn't hate you," she said, stepping towards him, but he stepped back again. "Jess..."
She trailed off as he turned away from her, and she could see by the way his shoulders were shaking that he was breathing hard.
"Jess," she repeated, walking through the water toward him. She touched his shoulder and felt him tense. "Jess, tell me what's wrong."
"Just get away from me, Rory," he said, his voice firm as if fighting an inner struggle. "I can't do this to you, so you just need to leave me alone right now."
"But I—"
"Just go!" he yelled, and Rory physically jumped back from him.
"I don't understand," she said quietly. Then after a moment, she backed away from him. "I don't know what I did," she whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear.
Before he could argue with her, she turned and ran up the embankment and out of sight.
"Shit," Jess sighed, running his fingers unsteadily through his hair.
John handed a receipt to the woman on the other side of the counter, flashing her a practiced smile that had always gotten him extra tips. "Have a nice day," he said, waving as she smiled back and walked out the door.
He looked around the diner. It was empty now. He hadn't gotten too much business, but he was tired nonetheless. He had started working just after driving three hours, after all.
Sitting on one of the stools, he let his mind wander. In two days, he would be starting his senior year in high school. What a trip that was to think about. He was going to graduate in nine months. It just wouldn't be the same without the guys there with him...
Something on the other side of the window caught John's attention, pulling him out of his thoughts. Across the street, he saw a very wet Rory, her long sleeves hanging over her hands as she hugged herself protectively. Her head hung low, as if trying to hide from inquiring eyes. But the thing he noticed about her right away was the lost look in her eyes.
"Caesar," he called to the back, never taking his gaze away from the window, "I'll be back...I don't know when, but I have to go."
Running out the door before waiting for a reply, he crossed the street.
"Rory," he said, jogging up beside her. "Rory, what happened?"
"I don't know," she said distantly, as if she wasn't even aware that she was speaking.
"Did something happen?" he asked, alarmed at her tone. "Are you hurt?"
"No," she said with the same dissociation. "I'm fine."
"Rory!" he said, taking her by the shoulder and turning her towards him. "Tell me what happened!"
She looked up at him for the first time, and her eyes seemed to clear a little. Looking into them, John saw that she was crying. "Oh," she said softly, her voice eerily calm. "Hi John."
"Cuz, you're seriously freaking me out here," he said seriously. "What happened?"
"I don't know," she said again, but this time there was a tremble in her voice. "One minute, we were kissing, and then he was telling me to get away from him. I don't know what I did. I didn't mean to make him mad."
She sounded so young, like that little girl he'd grown up with. He had a brief memory of a time when he was six and she was five. She'd come running to him after falling off of her bike. She'd skinned her knee and split open her palm, but the babysitter was asleep in front of the television and she couldn't wake him up. John had taken her into the bathroom and put seven band-aids on each injury. He'd thought seven was a good number when it came to band-aids. Then he'd kissed her on the forehead and helped get her mind off of it by letting her win at Shoots and Ladders.
"You didn't do anything," he told her gently, taking off his over shirt and wrapping it around her shoulders. "Whatever happened, you didn't do anything."
"Then why did he yell at me?" she asked, her voice begging him to make it alright like he had back then. "Why doesn't he want me anymore?"
"I don't know," he said softly, his eyes sad as he searched his mind for an explanation. When nothing came to him, he wrapped his arm around her protectively and began to lead her toward her house. "Come on," he said. "Let's get you home."
When they got to the Gilmore residence, Rory was completely out of it again. John, not about to try to talk to her again, found the turtle with the key and let them in. He asked Rory where her room was and she mechanically answered. He didn't even recognize her.
Leading her into her room, he sat her down on her bed and sat next to her.
"Rory," he said gently, about ready to cry himself. "Look at me, please."
She looked at him, her eyes holding a sadness that was so unfamiliar to them.
"Are you going to be okay?" he asked.
"Yeah," she said nodding gently. "I'll be okay, John."
"Are you sure?" he asked, relieved at the way she seemed to be coming back to herself. "You seemed pretty messed up when I found you."
"I'm just..." she sighed, looking down at her hands curled in her lap. "I don't understand. He just seemed so angry."
"It was nothing you did," John assured her, taking her hand in his. "I don't know what happened, but I can guarantee that it wasn't you."
She nodded, the resolve in her face flickering a few moments before she completely broke down. John, knowing that there was nothing he could say to comfort her, just put his arm around her and let her cry into his shoulder.
Jess lay in his bed in the apartment above the diner, music blasting from his stereo at full blast. He didn't read, or watch television, or move. He just sat and imagined all the forms of torture that were surly awaiting him, the most agonizing of which being the look in her eyes.
I'm such an asshole, he thought, shutting his eyes tight. Why did I yell at her? She didn't do anything. She couldn't possibly do anything. God, I'm such an asshole.
After she left, he had spent almost an hour just lying on the bridge waiting for lightning to strike him. Then, resolved in the fact that it wouldn't, he'd headed home. He didn't even look for her because he had no idea what he would do when he saw her. He needed to think.
So here he was, lying on his bed, trying to think of anything but her.
Jess lifted his head when he heard a pounding on the door and then laid it right back down, shutting his eyes.
Aw shit, he thought, knowing exactly who was behind it. He's going to kill me.
"What the hell happened?" he looked up as John shut off his stereo, and the apartment was filled with a thick silence. "Well?" John prompted, sitting on the edge of the bed.
"I'm an asshole," he spoke aloud what he'd been thinking for hours. It was the only thing he could think to say to explain himself. "I'm such a fucking asshole."
"We all know that," John replied. "My question is how and why did that fact manifest itself in front of Rory?"
There was a long silence as Jess pondered over that question. The same question he had come home to think over. Much good that had done him.
"Talk to me, Jess," John said, "because right now, I have a very strong urge to hit you."
"I didn't want to hurt her," Jess said finally, his voice full of regret.
"Well you did," John told him. "You really did."
"That's not what I mean," Jess sighed, sitting up next to John. "I mean, I pushed her away because I didn't want to hurt her." When John stayed silent, he continued, "We were kissing, and it was getting...John, you know how it goes." He hung his head in his hands. "I couldn't do that to her. I didn't want it to be that way, not with her." He looked at John again. "I had to get her away from me before I did something stupid."
John sat for a moment, thinking about what he said. "You know you screwed yourself over, right?" he asked finally.
"Yeah," Jess replied. "I know."
"You know she thinks it's her fault," he continued. "She thinks you're mad at her."
"I know."
"What are you going to do about it?" John asked him.
"I don't know."
"Let me ask you this," John said. "Why did you stop yourself...besides the fact that you know I'd kill you? When I talked to her, she didn't seem afraid that you were going to take advantage of her. She was afraid that you didn't want her. So if she didn't stop you, why did you stop yourself?"
Again, Jess paused to think before speaking. "As I said," he spoke slowly, "I didn't want it to be that way with her. I don't want her to look at me, and think of me as the guy who never should have been." He looked away from his friend, scared to death of what he was about to say. "I love her, John," he admitted finally, almost reluctantly. "I love her, and I don't want to be her mistake."
"Well, you have a great way of showing it," John told him, though there was no hostility in his voice. He understood, but he couldn't tell his friend what to do because he didn't know.
"I told you before," Jess said, some hostility in his voice, "I'm an asshole. How many times do I have to say it?"
"You have to fix this...now," John told him. "I don't know how you should do it, but if you leave this too long, you're not going to be able to."
"I know," he sighed, falling back on the bed again. "Just give me a few hours to think of the most effective way to grovel, okay?"
"Okay," John said standing up. "Mom and I have a room at the Independence Inn. If you need me, I'll be there."
"Thanks man," Jess said watching his friend walk away.
"And Jess," he turned back one more time, a small smile on his face, "you make her happy. That's the only reason you're still alive."
"Duly noted," Jess smiled back before closing his eyes to the world.
Rory shifted in the darkness of her room, unable to get comfortable on her bed. For the third time in twenty minutes, she looked at the clock. It was 3:36 in the morning.
Luke had called from the hospital around nine to ask if she wanted to stay at the apartment for the night so she wouldn't be alone, but she had calmly refused, saying that she was tired and wanted to go to bed. She would be fine on her own. She didn't know how she had kept from crying.
She'd been in this bed since then, letting the darkness fall around her. She'd cried and screamed and called Lane to do both, and now, she just wanted to sleep, but sleep wasn't coming.
Sighing with frustration she pulled back her sheet and walked out of her room. Walking into the bathroom, she switched on the light, cringing at the brightness of it. When her eyes were adjusted to the light, she looked into the mirror. Her eyes were bloodshot and sunken, her cheeks flushed. She didn't recognize herself.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" she asked her reflection, chuckling dryly. "What happened to the girl who didn't wallow?"
Smiling sarcastically at herself, she splashed some cold water on her face, turned off the light, and went back to her room. Lying down, she closed her eyes and thought of the stars. She thought of the night she and Jess went out to the cliff in New York to watch the sunset. She thought of the way she'd felt when he'd handed her that beautiful journal. She remembered the beautiful entry he'd written in it, and the many others she'd read since then.
One thing that he'd written stuck out at her as she lay in her bed right then. It was a quote by J.D. Salinger, and when she'd first read it, she fell in love with it. It read:
"I was about half in love with her by the time we sat down. That's the thing about girls. Every time they do something pretty... you fall half in love with them, and then you never know where the hell you are."
Rory was just drifting off to sleep, this quote in mind, when a noise pulled her back to consciousness. Opening her eyes, she lay in the darkness for a few moments, wondering if it was just her imagination. Then, just as she was about to give up and go back to sleep, she heard it again.
Lifting her heavy limbs, she stood up and stared into the blackness in which she was surrounded. What if it was a robber? What if it was an axe murderer? What if it was just a branch blowing against the side of the house? Maybe she should have taken Luke's advice.
When something tapped on the window, she jumped about three feet in the air. Taking a deep breath, she crept slowly towards the window in question, grabbing an umbrella that was leaning against her desk in case she needed to defend herself.
Stopping in front of the window, Rory gathered her courage and threw back the curtains to reveal a face staring back at her.
"Holy crap, Jess!" she screamed, walking over to the opposite wall and flipping on the light switch before turning back and unlatching the window. "What the hell did you think you were doing? You scared the crap out of me!"
"Sorry," he apologized as he stepped into her room. He looked around skittishly, his eyes never meeting hers. "I didn't mean to. I just needed to...and I didn't think ringing the doorbell at three in the morning was a good idea. I didn't want to wake the neighbors or anything. I really didn't mean to scare you."
"What are you doing here?" she sighed, now fully awake as she sat the edge of her bed. "I was just getting to sleep."
"I, um," Jess stammered, not moving any further into the room, "I just needed to...I wanted to..." She watched him struggle, knowing that he was trying to either apologize or break up with her. "Shit," he said, losing his nerve and turning to leave, "this was a bad idea. I'll come back tomorrow..."
"Jess." She stood up, and he looked back over his shoulder. "What do you want to say?" she asked him, her voice resigned. "Whatever it is, just go ahead and say it."
He turned to face her, lowering his eyes for a moment before meeting hers for the first time since he'd come. She could see that they were just as bloodshot, just as tortured as hers, and that gave her a strange sense of comfort.
"I'm not sure how," he said quietly, his voice suddenly steady. "See, today I screwed up royally with my girlfriend and I don't know how to tell her I'm sorry in such a way that it could ever make up for the way I acted."
"Really?" she asked, her voice guarded. She wanted to make it a little hard for him. For some reason, that seemed fair to her at the moment.
"Yeah," he continued, walking over to her and kneeling down in front of her so that their eyes were almost even. "I pushed her away and yelled at her when she didn't do anything wrong. And I made her think that I didn't want her anymore, which is the exact opposite of the truth."
"So why'd you do it?" she asked, her voice holding a hint of pleading. "Why'd you yell at her and push her away?"
"Because I'm afraid," he admitted, dropping eye contact for a moment before returning it with an intensity that almost scared her. "I'm afraid that if I get too close or move too fast with this girl, I'm going to hurt her or lose her or become her mistake."
"Why would you think that you're going to lose her?" she asked, tears gathering in her eyes and her voice desperate to understand. "Why are you so afraid to be with her?"
Jess paused, drawing a shaky breath. "Because," he said slowly, "I'm so in love with this girl that I'm not thinking straight."
Rory's breath caught in her throat, her eyes searching his for any trace of sarcasm or dishonesty. "What did you say?" she asked shakily.
"I love you," he repeated, his voice stronger. "And I'm so afraid that if I get too close, you're going to disappear. I know it's irrational, but when have I ever been rational? Seriously, Rory, have I ever struck you as the rational kind of—"
"Shut up, Jess," she interrupted, looking down and taking a deep breath. When she looked up again, Jess looked as if he had swallowed a live frog. His cheeks were pale and his eyes were wide, tears sparkling in them.
He opened his mouth to speak again, but she stopped him with a single brief kiss on the lips. It wasn't sweet or sensual or passionate, but almost impassive. It held in it all the frustration and pain and confusion she'd felt that night, but also the understanding she felt now.
He looked questioningly at her as she pulled away and leaned her forehead against his, but her eyes were turned down. The kiss filled his mind with questions, but no answers, and he still needed to know what was going through her head.
"I love you," she whispered finally, her voice solid and unemotional. "And I don't ever want to feel like I did tonight again, do you understand me?"
"Yes," he replied quietly.
"Good," she said and then kneeled down and hugged him around his neck.
Finally, Jess let himself breathe, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face in her neck. "I love you," he whispered again, a single tear escaping and trailing down her shoulder.
"I know baby," she sighed, stroking the back of his hair like you would when comforting a child. "I know."
They sat that way for half and hour before they moved to the bed. All night, they lay wrapped in each other's arm, thinking not of yesterday or tomorrow, but of the person they lay next to, and the newfound understanding between them.