Left Over
It was light by the time he got back to the tiny, dingy apartment off Washington Square. He hadn't slept on the bus, even though he was exhausted; he didn't want to close his eyes for fear that his reality would turn into nightmares. And another one bites the dust, he thought blindly. Has anyone ever figured that relationships don't work because one person always leaves?
He let himself into his mother's apartment; technically, Liz didn't know he was here, but he figured she wouldn't mind if he crashed for a few days. That's what he'd told himself three weeks ago, anyway. He was looking for a place. He'd been looking for a place for a long time. He still hadn't found one, but maybe it was time to leave anyway. It was always better to be the first one to leave. It didn't hurt as much.
He yanked open the refrigerator door and squinted into its dark interior. The bulb had been out since he'd been back, and for who knows how long before that, but he hadn't bothered to change it. There were some oddly-shaped leftovers from the taco dinner he'd bought last night, and a half-empty beer. Not half-full. It was never half-full for him.
He decided against the tacos but took the beer, staring around the quiet apartment. The early morning sunlight filtered in through the blinds, making precise lines on the floor. The summer air seemed heavy. He finished the beer and started throwing his clothes into his duffel bag, dirty ones first. He had no idea where he was going, but he was going somewhere. Somewhere else.
The phone rang suddenly, but he ignored it, gathering his CDs and books, straightening the mess he'd made.
The answering machine picked up, and the outgoing message played. "What's up, my friends?" He shook his head, annoyed. She was so easy-going. It made going easy.
"Jess?" he recognized the voice instantly, and froze. It was the same voice, the same tone even, that she'd use to tell him to take better care of her daughter. He didn't know why she was angry at him now. Maybe she wanted to tell him to take better care of himself. "Jess, I know you're there. Or maybe you're somewhere in between here and there- I don't know how long the bus takes, but I know you're there. Or you will be there. And I know you were here."
He gritted his teeth in frustration. He was trying to cut the ties, dammit. Why the hell was she reaching out?
"It's Lorelai," she continued after an awkward pause. "You probably figured that out from all the rambling…for somebody who talks a lot you'd think I could figure out how to say things coherently, but apparently not." She gave a small self-deprecating laugh.
"He's okay," she finally got to the point. Jess paused, staring at the flashing red light on the machine. "He's okay," she repeated, her voice wavering a bit. "I thought you'd want to know. You should've… you should've stayed, you know? He would have wanted to see you. But I didn't tell him you were here. Nobody knows. I figured that's what you wanted."
She sighed loudly. "I should hate you, Jess. I don't know why I don't hate you. You were young, and stupid, and selfish, and you hurt the two people I care most about in the entire world, and it's changed them. Luke and Rory. So now I guess you know you had an impact. Nobody will forget that you were here, anyway."
He tried to stop listening, jamming his feet back into his worn-out sneakers and zipping up his jacket. It was too hot for a jacket, but he always wore it.
"I know you're going to erase this as soon as I hang up," Lorelai's voice finished. "So I'll call back and leave a message for your mom, let her know Luke's okay. Don't erase that one. So…okay, bye. Take care of yourself." She hung up.
He stared at the machine for a long moment, counting the pulses of the flashing red light. One…two..three…
He had to do it now; it was like she'd given him a challenge. Four…five…six…
He reached out and punched the message-erase button. Good-bye, Lorelai.
The phone rang again. "What's up, my friends?"
He grabbed his duffel and slung it over his shoulder, eyeing the apartment one last time.
"Liz, hi, this is Lorelai Gilmore…"
He slammed the door shut on the message, locking it all behind him.