Disclaimer: I own nothing but a pack of gum and some books.

Author's Note:  How proud are you guys of me? Two chapters in two days! I just needed to get this written because as I was falling asleep last night, I was just writing it in my head. Thanks for all the great reviews you guys have been giving me, I know the last chapter wasn't very exciting, but I needed a way to get them out of the storage room and out of the "newfound" comfortable friendship for a moment. I hope you'll keep the reviews coming, they help tons. Soo, here is chapter six.

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Rory lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling and willing herself to fall asleep. For her, the weekend went by in a blur. She had finished three novels, and hung out with Lane until Mama Kim said it was time for Rory to leave so Lane could study her bible hymns. Lorelai questioned her about the events that occurred while her and Tristan were locked in the storage room but chose not to believe her every time she heavily said 'nothing happened'.

Every time she tried to focus on something other than their conversation in the small space, somehow her mind always wandered back to it. I don't think I can be 'just friends' with you. I'll always want more. Those words seemed to be etched in her brain, and she couldn't (for the life of her) get them to stop echoing in her mind. Even eating ice cream reminded her of Tristan because at times, the formation of the chocolate chips in the carton looked like the shape of his smile. Rory now solidly believed that she should check herself into an insane asylum.

'He's a player,' she would think to herself, and then bury her head in her hands for even thinking about his boyish smile or playboy charm. It must have been the lack of oxygen in that storage room, it's making your brain cloudy. However, as the hours of her weekend ticked by, she began to grasp the fact that she was lying to herself.

What drove her crazy the most was that she couldn't tell whether he was ever being sincere with her. She was so used to security in her small town life that she was thrown off by Tristan's antics. She had never had someone quite like him in her life before, but she had to admit. . . he sure made it interesting.

He had thrown her off her game, and although she was hesitant to admit it to herself. . . she liked it. He challenged her and made her feel things that she had never even began to experience with Dean. He made her mind spin, her lips tremble, her knees tremble with anticipation and her heart rate increased rapidly anytime he was within a ten mile radius. He certainly wasn't hard on the eyes. There was just something about him . . .

Rory sat up in bed, groaning, her blankets pooling around her waist. An expression of realization, surprise and horror were sported on her expression all at once; she was falling for the playboy.

* * * * *

Rory didn't know exactly what she had expected when she returned to school on Monday morning. She was prepared for him to pull her into an empty bathroom stall to try to tempt her again, or to attempt to have a friendly conversation, but what he did do hurt her more than she would have imagined.

While reaching for her chemistry textbook in her locker, she spotted his blonde, spiky hair bobbing through the sea of plaid skirts and blue blazers. His eyes locked on hers for a brief moment and she managed a wobbly attempt at a smile, but he just averted his cool gaze and kept his arm around a red-head that Rory didn't recognize, who was blabbering on about the newest make-up she bought over the weekend.

She felt as though all the air had been sucked out of her lungs and surprisingly, tears stung at the back of her eyes. Do not cry, she thought furiously to herself, shutting her eyes tightly, it will only make him happy that he got to you. You are stronger than this. As much as she willed the tears to stop, the lump in her throat grew larger and harder to ignore, so she slammed her locker shut, heading towards the bathroom.

Once safely hidden in a stall, the tears spilled out of her eyes and she couldn't stop them. Before she knew it, she was sobbing, furious that he had played with her emotions and used his charm to weasel his way into her heart, and even more upset that she had let him. Exiting the stall several minutes later sniffling and hiccuping, Rory grabbed a piece of paper towel and dabbed her eyes. She splashed cold water on her face and looked up at her reflection, taking in the swollen red eyes and disheveled hair, disgusted at herself for being one of 'those girls'.

"You look like hell," a voice behind her stated plainly, and Rory spun around to see who it was, her face flushing at the thought of anyone seeing her in such a mess.

"Oh, um, hi Paris," Rory stammered, running her hands through her hair. Paris felt her expression soften immeadiately looking at her; she looked as though her dog had just died. "I just needed to wash my hands," she explained unnecessarily, holding up her hands. "Lamb's eye dissection in McDonald's biology class."

Rory scrunched her nose up in distaste. "Nice."

Paris turned on the tap and washed her hands, glancing nonchalantly in the mirror at Rory who was staring at the floor uncomfortably. As she dried them off, she shrugged. "You know, if there's anything you want to talk about, I'm an okay listener."

Rory smiled slightly. "Oh, thanks, but it's nothing. I found out they're serving green jello for dessert today and I really had my heart set on red." Her usual witty responses were coming back to her, which Rory took as a good sign.

Paris nodded, clearly disbelieving the answer she was provided with but not pressing her for details. "Okay, well the offer still stands."

"Okay." Paris left the bathroom and Rory stayed in there for a few minutes afterwards, trying to compose herself. She needed to talk to Tristan, and she needed to do it soon before she drove herself crazy.

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Rory sat at a table by herself in the cafeteria, her food untouched and her book unopened. The Clash was sounding through her headphones, but she wasn't listening. She was discreetly trying to spot the famaliar blonde hair and distinct laugh, but she didn't see or hear him anywhere. Just when she was about to give up, she spotted him off in a corner, attatched at the lips with the girl she had spotted him with earlier. Scoffing, Rory stood up and hesitantly made her way over.

"Tristan?" She asked, tapping him on the shoulder.

No response.

"Hello? Tristan?" she asked again, this time a little louder.

Tristan raised his hand as though to silence her, but did not once tear his lips away from his companion.

Fed up, Rory grabbed his arm and pulled him up from the seat, dragging him towards the direction of the exit. Daggers were shot at her from the girl who he was with, but Rory shrugged and gave her a smug look.

"What are you doing?" Tristan demanded angrily once they were out in the hallway. "I was busy."

Rory rolled her eyes. "This is more important."

Tristan narrowed his eyes at her. "I highly doubt it."

Sighing, she led him over to a bench and they sat down facing eachother. "I just have a few things I would like to say, and I want you to listen to all of it before you say anything."

"I really don't have time for this," Tristan replied impatiently. "Becka is in there waiting for me."

"I really don't care about Becka," she spat, rolling her eyes. "It's too bad all of her brains seem to be in her chest."

Tristan smirked, his eyebrows raised in an amused expression. "Jealous, are we Mary?"

"Just listen to me, please." Rory pleaded, ignoring his comment.

"Fine," he complied, crossing his arms. "This better be good."

Relieved, Rory closed her eyes to organize her thoughts before she began speaking. She found it ironic that their roles seemed to have been reversed; she was now begging him to listen to her and he didn't want to give her the time of day.

"I know that over the past month, our relation has been. . .  well. . . it's been interesting," she began.

"That's an understatement," Tristan replied sardonically, but Rory held her hand up to silence him. He rolled his eyes, and said, "Right, no talking until you're done, sorry."

Rory nodded her appreciation, and continued. "You know, when I first met you, I thought you were arrogant and conceited and overbearing. . ."

". . . you know, you can stop any time you'd like," Tristan interputed, then smirked. "Sorry, I couldn't help it."

Rory smiled. "I actually still believe all these things about you."

Tristan frowned. "Did you drag me out to insult me, because if you did. . ."

"No, no, no!" Rory insisted, pushing him back down on the bench when he tried to get up. He flashed a sarcastic grin and replied, "Fiesty . . . I like it," causing Rory to smile at the memory it provided.

"When we were down in that storage room, and you were talking about your family and we actually had a suitable conversation, I just think something clicked." Tristan's face took on a look of surprise.  "And all weekend, I've been having this internal fight with my heart and my mind, and I finally decided to let my heart win. You've drawn me in, and as much as I hate it, I can't help but find it exciting. You provide my life with fun and festivity," she added with an embarressed laugh, "and if we can just put both of our defenses and differences aside. . . I don't know, maybe we could try. . . um, a date?"

Silence fell over the corridor as Tristan thought over everything she had said. Finally, he laughed and said, "Are you crazy?"

Rory's face fell. "Oh, okay, well nevermind then, I just thought. . ."

Tristan put his hand over her mouth to prevent her from speaking any more. "What I meant, was you are crazy if you thought you even had to ask."

Rory let out a long sigh of relief and smiled bashfully, but then turned serious. "I don't want to be a conquest to you, understood?"

Tristan nodded and stood up. "Completely. Thanks for the second chance, Mary. How does Friday sound?"

"Fine, but where are you going?" she questioned as he walked towards the cafeteria.

"To tell Becka that I'm going to have to cancel our plans for this weekend because I'm taking out the only girl who has ever called me concieted and arrogant but was still willing to date me."

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Soooo, what do you think? Let me know! Any suggestions on the date, and what should happen, where they should go? etc. . . I'm willing to consider anything. Thanks.