Disclaimer: I own nothing but a package of gum and some books!
Authors Note: Sorry, sorry, sorry! It's been a while since I've updated, but I have been so wrapped up with work and reading the fifth Harry Potter, which by the way, is AWESOME!!!!!!!!! (Ahem. . . sorry. . .) So here is chapter seven. . . and remember, if you review, I'll love you!
Cleopatra-Queen-Of-The-Nile: Thank-you for all of your input, I took it all into consideration, and I'm very grateful that you took the time to write it. :) You're compliments were very flattering and criticism was well-taken. Merci.
Liz Darcy: I love how you always have something to say after every chapter, you are a very faithful and avid reviewer, and I love you for it!
To everyone else who reviewed, it really does mean so much to me. Keep it coming :)
* * * * *
Lorelai Leigh Gilmore; the definition of perfection to a tee. She certainly wasn't what Tristan had bargained for in the beginning. He had been hoping for a new fling. . . a good time, but only for a week or so. . . a joyous bout, if you will. No, he had definitely not expected an intelligent, passionate, earnest girl who he was most unquestionably falling for.
As Tristan sat at his desk at home with his copy of East of Eden, which was open, but cast aside (because contrary to popular belief, Tristan DuGray did actually crack open a book once in a while), he pondered whether this was a good thing, or whether he had put himself in a situation where he or said object of perfection would indefinitely be hurt.
He had very much earned a reputation of being a "player", which by standard, was true. Rory wanted to change him, and though he desperately wanted to change for her, there was still a burning question in the back of his mind. . .it was always there, taunting him.
Could he change?
Could he give up all the countless girls that wanted him for one, solitary girl?
He was proud of his player image because he felt as though he was in control of anything that came his way. He could drop one girl and find another within a matter of an hour, and he adored that. The ladies flocked to his allure.
It was his way of showing his family that he was in charge of his life, and not them. . .but it also scared him to death. He didn't want to turn out like his father, which was why he was sitting at his desk, book unread and coffee untouched, thinking about how he could make things work. His eyes were sore due to the dim light that his desk lamp was contributing and a constant pain was searing at his temples.
The thing that alarmed him the most was the fact that Rory wanted to be with him, and he was afraid that he wouldn't be able to match up with her expectations. He had never been a one-woman kind of guy, and honestly, he didn't really know how to be.
He knew he wanted to change, but he didn't want to end up hurting Rory involuntarily. She was so much better than that. The real question that he needed to ask himself, but was ignoring because he didn't want to have to deal with it (like a tele-marketer who doesn't get the hint that you don't want anything they are selling, until you finally hang up on them) finally presented itself to him, and he couldn't just hang up on it.
Do you even deserve her?
* * * * *
Meanwhile, Rory was having a similar debate with herself while she was sitting inertly on the sofa, eating a bowl of Rocky Road and idly watching the television. Tristan DuGray, she thought to herself, bringing the spoon to her lips and savoring the taste. Did she really want to be with someone like Tristan DuGray?
Sure, he was gorgeous. . . and he was rich. . . but to Rory, that didn't mean anything. She was only interested in getting to know what he was like underneath the rugged exterior, and when it came down to it, she really didn't know that much about him.
Did she want to go through heartbreak and anguish for him? Although this might not happen, the nagging feeling that it could prodded her thoughts. Things had been so secure with Dean, and although she hated to admit it, boring; now she felt like anything could happen at any moment, but the wall she had unknowingly built up around her heart was slowly crumbling. . .it just wasn't in shambles yet.
Tediously shredding a scrap of paper that had been lying on the coffee table in front of her, she began to languidly repeat;
You like him. . .
You like him, not. . .
You like him. . .
You like him, not. . .
You like him. . .
With a heaving sigh of disappointment, she put down the last shred.
You like him, not.
* * * * *
Friday night, Tristan's polished Benz pulled into the driveway of the Gilmore residence and he nervously stepped out of his car, checking his reflection in the window before making his way up onto the front porch.
Up until this morning, neither Tristan or Rory had said much to each other in the halls or during classes. They smiled at one another and said 'hi', but that was essentially the extent of their exchange. Both were too apprehensive to say what they were undoubtedly thinking. . . this is never going to work.
Wiping his clammy palms on his khaki slacks, he rang the door bell. After hearing several thumps and a startled cry, the door swung open to reveal a very flustered looking Lorelai. She smiled thankfully at him, and ushered him inside the foyer. "Thank God you're here. Before you leave, do you think you could be a doll and change our water cooler? I tried, but I am only but a little lady. . ."
Tristan smiled slightly, albeit a tad confused, but nodded. "Sure, Ms. Gilmore, no problem."
Now it was Lorelai's turn to look confused, and she gave him a 'what are you thinking' look. "Never, ever call me Ms. Gilmore again. What, do I look like my mother? It's Lorelai, or 'Rory's cool and wonderful mom', heck you can even call me Betty if you want."
"Erm-," Tristan began, but was cut off by Lorelai leading him into the kitchen and to the back door. "The extra bottles are out back by the garage, and the thingy you set it onto is in the corner." Tristan nodded and headed out towards the back of the garage where he found what he was looking for. Hoisting it onto his shoulder, he stiffly walked back into the house trying to support the weight of the large bottle.
When he returned to the kitchen, he was surprised to find Rory standing by the table talking to Lorelai, but foolishly shook his head when he realized he should be surprised because after all, she did live there.
She looked amazingly hot, Tristan thought, admiring her light green shirt and blue jeans. Who knew she could make a pair of denims look so good?
Rory shook her head at Lorelai, but an amused smile played on her lips. "Already making him do manual labor, are you? I'm disappointed, I thought you would at least wait until the second date."
Tristan's head shot up at this comment. She wanted there to be a second date? Of course she wanted there to be a second date, she didn't want to be just another number on his list, he reminded himself. Tristan sighed inwardly, but tried to play it cool. "Hey, it's all in a day's work. You look great, by the way."
Rory smiled bashfully but thanked him. "You don't look so bad yourself. I didn't know what we were going to be doing, so I just dressed casually, is that okay?"
"Well, to be honest, I don't know what we're going to be doing either, so how about we just wing it?" Tristan flashed her a toothy grin, but his cheeks were flushing slightly. Why hadn't he planned anything? He was so worried about how things were going to go, he didn't think to make reservations anywhere.
Rory shrugged, but didn't seem bothered by the fact that he hadn't prepared anything. "Hey, I'm up for anything." She grabbed a sweater that had been hanging over the back of a chair and kissed Lorelai on the cheek. "By mom," she said, and then turned to face him. "Are you ready?"
"Whenever you are," he replied and they left the house with abstracted calls from Lorelai, ordering them not to be home before midnight.
Rory smiled awkwardly as Tristan opened her door for her and then went to the drivers side and slid in. He started the car and for the next ten minutes as he drove out of Stars Hollow, a clumsy silence hung in the air. "So, did you want to go eat somewhere?" Tristan finally asked, wearied from the silence.
"Absolutely," Rory said, smiling at him. "I'm starved."
"Do you like Italian?" Tristan asked, thinking about a great place he had taken some of his other dates before her, which they had loved.
"Why don't we just have some pizza, or something?" Rory asked with a slight shrug. "I don't need anything expensive, and I'm really craving some good ole' American pie."
Tristan smiled. He had never taken a girl out for pizza before. They would have clubbed him over the head with their expensive Gucci bags before 'slumming' it in some local hangout. For some reason, he felt slightly relieved that Rory wasn't so high maintenance, but in truth, he somehow knew she wouldn't be.
He felt some of the tension relieved from the vehicle and the silence began to lift.
"Sorry I didn't really talk to you much this week. . . I was a little preoccupied," Tristan apologized, reasoning with himself that he wasn't really telling a lie.
"Oh, yeah, me too," she responded, looking a little embarrassed. She nervously tucked a strand of her chocolate hair behind her ear. "I had a huge chemistry test. . . but you would know that, since you're in my class. . ." she trailed off, her voice carrying a hint of unease.
"Yeah, that was a killer, huh?"
Rory nodded her head in agreement. "Definitely."
As Tristan pulled into the parking lot of Paul's Pizza Shack, he turned to Rory and raised his eyebrows. "Let's hope Paul makes some damn good pizza." The two of them got out of the car, and discreetly, thinking it was the right thing to do, he seized her hand. Looking down at their laced fingers, and then back up at Tristan, Rory smiled sheepishly.
Maybe it wouldn't be so bad being a one-woman kind of guy, Tristan thought to himself with a small smile, trying to brush away the distinct, annoying feeling of butterflies in his stomach. If she had patience with him while he tried to get the whole 'boyfriend' act together, they would be okay. She just needed to have a little faith in him.
* * * * *
When the road gets dark,
And you can no longer see,
Just let my love throw a spark,
And have a little faith in me. . .
And when the tears you cry,
Are all you can believe,
Just give these loving arms a try,
And have a little faith in me. . .
Have a little faith in me. . .
Have a little faith in me. . .
Have a little faith in me. . .
Have a little faith in me. . .
When your secret heart,
Cannot speak so easily,
Come here darlin',
From a whisper start,
To have a little faith in me,
And when your back's against the wall,
Just turn around and you will see,
I will catch, I will catch your fall baby. . .
Just have a little faith in me. . .
A/N - - - This was sort of just a filler chapter to get the ball rolling on their date. The next chapter will probably be the rest of it, but for now I just had to write something because I just got in this mood that I had to write. (I love those moods!) To those of you who asked when I would be updating Ice Cream Monday's, it's kind of on the back burner right now because it wasn't getting much response. I will probably continue it after I finish Preparatory Playboy story since it seems to be better received.
So, please. . . let me know what you think so far. . . press the pretty review button! You know you wannnnaaaaa. . .