Hey, I just realized something. For a while, for some odd reason, chapters one and two were switched. I just wanted to apologize to anyone who that confused, and I hope things are better now.

So last chapter was such complainy bullsht that I thought you guys deserved some fun...

This was insane, Rory thought to herself again. This time she was typing her research paper for project physics, and found herself thinking once again about Tristan. She tapped her pen against her chin and bit her lip, wishing she could bite his. She was shocked at herself for thinking such a though, it wasn't like her at all. But really, she was going nuts. It had been almost a week and a half, and Tristan was still ignoring her.

Well, no. That wasn't fair. He was definitely not ignoring her. More like he was purposefully not looking at her, even though he was. His eyes remained resolutely facing forward, yet were somehow always on her. His words were never directed at her, yet always seemed meant for her. It was insane. She was insane. This was insane, she thought again. It was this overriding thought which she had ultimately concluded, and now it resounded relentlessly in her mind, cutting off all possibility to valid thought.

Consequentially, the present data yielded by the This is insa--

Ugh. She'd done it again. Rory pounded the delete several times, wondering wryly if it would wear down to nothing by the end of the night. She tried once again to focus on her lab report, but her mind flitted almost instantly back to her blond friend. Were they still friends? Could one kiss their friend and then ignore them, and still be their friend? Were they ever even friends in the first place? Why was he acting so strange, when he clearly still wanted to interact with her? What if it was her imagination?

She used to think she knew. A day or so after that night on the roof, she thought she had things figured out. But what if she didn't? What if he wasn't holding himself back for some reason, but instead just didn't like her? Good God, what if she was such a bad kisser that she actually turned him away? She paused in her typing. No, that didn't sound right. If what she heard was true, Tristan DuGrey would have been upront and simply told her about that. This was insane. She sighed and continued her typing.

-

The next morning Rory had made up her mind. She knew what she was going to do, and she was determined to go through with it. If Tristan wasn't going to make a consious choice about her on his own, she was going to force him into one. After several hours of thinking, she had decided what to do about it.

That morning, she walked towards her classroom with a determined expression. She was apprehensive, and a little excited. Whatever happened, she knew she couldn nolonger deal with the constant apathy she had been forced to endure. Shee needed something to happen, to break the endless string of noncommitted signals and stolen glances not returned.

Tristan's locker was standing walking in front of her, towards the classroom. She took a deep breath, then,

"Tristan," she said. She hadn't spoken to him since the night of the date from hell, so this first step was strange enough. He turned, the sound of her voice calling his name finally driving him to look at her. He leaned against the wall behind him, his face taking on a strange mix of resignation and interest. He didn't say anything, just looked at her, waiting for her to make her next move.

She stared into those blue eyes for a moment, trying to figure out what was going on behind them. Finally, she ran out of patience. She obeyed her impulse. She dropped her bag and reached up, pulling his face down to hers and kissing him quickly. She did it to gauge his reaction, and to show him how she felt. This seemed a more desirable, not to mention simpler method than any words were.

She began to pull away, ready to face the consequences of her rash actions, when he surprised her. He pulled her back to him, not letting her end the kiss. Suddenly he turned her, and Rory found herself being pressed againt the wall. His tongue brushed lightly against the edge of her lip, and she opened her mouth to him. Lost in the fantastic impossibility of the situation, she almost didn't notice his lips break contact with her own. She remained as she was, still under his spell.

Her eyes were shocked open when he pounded his fist against the wall next to her head. Suddenly things weren't so happy anymore. He paced to the wall at the other side of the corridor and then back to her.

"You can't just do that!" he said angrily. The halls were now clear of students, and the sound of his voice seeming louder in the opressive silence surrounding them. Rory was at a complete loss for words.

"I...what?" she asked perplexedly.

"You can't just do whatever you want, whenever you want! You can't just k...don't you even care about your boyfriend?" he finished bitterly. Rory's mouth fell open.

"Tristan what in the hell are you talking about? What boyfriend?" she asked. His eyes cleared somewhat.

"You...don't...have a...?" he asked.

"Of course not!" she sputtered. What was going on?

"No boyfriend." he repeated. Rory had had enough.

"No!" she exploded, "I don't! And what would give you that idea? It's warped? What, is this some weird habit you've picked up? Kissing girls and then losing your ever fucking mind?" She was furious. This wasn't the way things were supposed to happen.

"Mary..."

"Rory! And if you're going to act like such a braindead idiot then you had at least better get my name right! A boyfriend? Honsetly, what the f--" her words were cut off by his lips on hers. He kissed her hungrily, clasping his fingers in hers and holding them against the wall above her. She leaned into him as he devoured her, suddenly lost once again in him. The pair remained connected for what seemed like ages, and Tristan finally came up for air. He leaned his forehead on hers, both of them breathing heavily.

"Tristan," she said after she had caught her breath, "what--" he kissed her again.

-

The pair walked into class deshevelled and late, and unable to wipe foolish grins from their faces. Rory mumbled a fast apology to the teacher, and Tristan didn't say anything at all. They took their seats and tried to pretend they were paying attention to the lesson.

After class Tristan waited for Rory by her desk. She collected her books and Marty walked over, unaware of the new situation. Tristan looked up and shot him a glare so full of rage and mistrust that the curly haired boy backed away, and left before Rory had time to notice the exchange. Tristan sighed inwardly at the thought that he would have to talk to Marty, and soon.

"Ready?" her voice came to him, and once again he was grinning helplessly.

"Yeah, cmon, Mary," he said, and she rolled her eyes at him. This time, however, it wasn't such a bad thing.

-

He walked her to her dorm room, having spent the entire day together. They frequented coffeeshops, libraries, parks, and restaurants. Rory found herself in a suddenly blissful state of mind. Her happiness was only dampened by the fact that it had to end now.

"Goodnight," he whispered, kissing her softly. She smiled, and then remembered the question she had meant to ask him all day.

"Tristan," she said seriously, "What gave you the idea that I had a boyfriend?" he shrugged uncomfortable, and ran his hand through his hair.

"Something I heard."

"From who?"

"A friend. I...need to talk to them before I do anything else, okay?" Rory nodded. She understood perfectly.

"Good night," she murmered, and he leaned over for one last kiss before she closed the heavy mahogany door.

"That is rediculous! You are absolutely out of your mind!" she heard Paris shout.

"Oh, so you're excusing everything proven false by Aristotle? How can you possibly ignore that?"

"Aristotle was an ass! He played off the ideas of his teacher and claimed them as his own! Who do you think came up with this idea of a philosopher king in the first place?"

"Aristotle taught that King! And wasn't Plato just as much a commiter of plagarism? Didn't he steal everything he knew from Socrates? The man had no oppinions!"

"Jess!" Rory said in shock, adressing the guy arguing heatedly with her room mate.

"Hey, Ror," he greeted. "How's life in preppy hell?"

Wooooooh!

This had better come with reviews, because you totally got what you wanted this chapter! More to come next time, including the charming clash of Jess and the rest of Rory's world. Fuuuuuun.

Oh, and nobody go see Hostel, becuase it's not scary at all, and not even sufficiently gross to make up for that. Total waste of time and money.