"Christopher!" Rory heard Lorelei yell from the kitchen.

"Mom, he's not home yet," she informed.

"Well, get in here so we can have some dinner."

Rory walked solemnly down the hall and into their kitchen. It had green walls with red and white checkered everything else. This room had been decorated by interior designers, much like the rest of the house.

"I've already eaten," Rory said, looking down at the feast her mother had brought home.

Her mother sighed and looked down. "Oh," was her simple reply.

Rory bowed her head. "I guess I'm a little hungrier, though. Maybe I'll have just a bite."

Lorelei's face brightened. "Okay, I'll have Tessa make you a plate."

A half an hour later, Rory and Lorelei were laughing and eating together. "So, then he got up and left!" Lorelei laughed.

"No way!" Rory replied, giggling right along.

"Yeah…" the conversation had died down and the two were eating through the food on their plates. "So how's Mychal?"

"Oh, he's fine. He had work tonight, so he couldn't come over."

"That's a shame. Did you do anything exciting at school?"

"No, but I did have another debate with Paris on something that I don't even remember now. But I won," Rory chuckled a bit.

"That's always fun."

Rory nodded and focused on her dish that was half gone. She wasn't hungry anymore – she was never hungry. But she loved Lorelei; she had always been there for her, and vise versa. Lorelei had always liked Mychal. She called him the Perfect First Boyfriend. Rory had met him at one of her grandparents' parties. He went to a school across town, making it easier on Rory to hook up with Tristin behind his back.

He was good to her, though. She knew he would never cheat on her or anything. To an extent, Rory felt a little bad. That feeing would diminish when she saw Tristin in the halls at school or… in her bedroom, or… in her bed…

The next day at school was a long one. All of Rory's classes were boring, and she couldn't stop thinking about the girl in the background of Tristin's house. She hadn't even thought about Tristin seeing other girls than her outside of this, and this was a huge wake up call. She couldn't believe it. How could she have been so stupid? Of course there were others: it's Tristin, the most popular guy in school.

"Hey," she heard him behind her. She could tell her was in her doorway. She turned to him from her bed and smiled.

"Hello."

He walked up to her and kissed her passionately, pushing her down to lie on her bed. She knew it was artificial, that all he wanted was another piece off ass, but she couldn't help herself. She wanted him enough to get past that.

Later, they were lying in her bed, her head on his chest, and his arm around her. His other hand was playing with her hair. "Do you ever feel guilty?" He said it very quiet, almost as if he didn't want her to even hear him.

She got up on her elbow, on the other side of him and looked into his eyes. "I… what?"

"Sometimes I do," he said, just as softly.

Rory bowed her head and put her chin to his chest so she could still look at him.

"I mean, of all the girls at school, I'm bangin' the one that's unattainable." Tristin put his arms behind his head and looked up at the ceiling. Rory put her head to the side and reached up to rub his chest hairs.

"Sometimes," Rory replied after a long five minutes of silence.

Tristin nodded, though Rory couldn't see him. "Look, I have to go soon. My sister needs babysitting when my parents have to work late and the maid leaves."

Rory changed positions once more to look back at him.

"Do you want to help me?" He asked it; she would have never thought the words would have escaped his mouth.

"I… uhm…" Rory didn't know what to say.

"I mean, you probably don't, right?" he shrugged, "but I thought I'd put the offer out there." He was approaching this like it meant nothing, like he wasn't asking her to come over to his house, like he didn't just ask her to help him, like it was just something normal, that they did all the time.

"Uhm, yeah. Just… just let me put something on."

They both dressed, turned from each other, so they weren't looking at one another.

"After you," Tristin said when they exited the house to his car.

As Rory got in the passenger seat, Tristin turned on the radio. Death Cab for Cutie filled the automobile and she saw him start to mouth the words occasionally. They got to his own driveway only a few minutes into the song "Why You'd Want to Live Here," a song that Rory actually liked. She never knew Tristin would actually like that kind of music.

The entered his house without a word and an anxious young girl jumped on Tristin. "You're home!"

He kissed her cheek and put her down. "Jeni, this is Rory. Rory, Jeni."

"Nice to meet you," Rory squatted to the kid's height. "I really like those shoes," she pointed to Jeni's pink Keds.

"Thank you very much, Rory."

"You're welcome."

Later on in the night, Rory went into the kitchen to grab something to drink. Tristin was in the bathroom and she thought it rude to even ask: she had never asked him if he wanted anything to drink when he was at her home.

She looked into the refrigerator, finding some orange juice she would like to have. She looked in a couple of cabinets for the cups, but as she got to the forth one or so, some put their arms around her and kissed her neck intensely. Her knees weakened at the contact. She turned around and they kissed deeply. He propped her up on the counter and he started to lift the shirt over her head.

"In your kitchen?" she breathed.

"Who's going to walk in?"

That seemed to be good enough of an answer, because she let him dispose of her top.

Her phone rang and Tristin sighed and turned around.

"Hello?"

"Rory?"

"Hey Mom. What's up?"

"Uhm, you're not here."

"Oh, I'm at Tristin DuGrey's house. We were working on a project for school."

She talked for another minute or so, looking at Tristin trying to leisurely find something to eat. She knew he wasn't hungry for food.

Rory hung up. "It's my time to go."

Tristin nodded nonchalantly. "Do I have to take you back home?"

"No, she's sending a car for me."

He kissed her for the last time that night. "I'll see you around."

"You sure will."

A/N: I still have no idea where I'm taking this story, as I usually make up a plot while writing. If you have any helpful suggestions, please tell in your review.