An Author's Not So Late Night Ramblings- Wow! I have to say, I am really happy with the reaction that this story is getting from my readers, especially since I just started it! I'm really glad that you are all enjoying it.
To California Dreamer: Wow! Glad that you liked 'Mary' enough to read this, even though it's not your ship. Jess will most likely never make an appearance in any of my stories, because I'm not a huge fan, and the conflicts involving him were solved, so I don't need to! I guess you have discovered my evil plan... I'm going to convert all Lits to Trories, one at a time... (Laughs evilly while rubbing palms together!)
To my dearest and most fabulous beta, Sara (Shouhei), without whom this chapter would probably be called something else. She is behind the title, and I thought it was completely inspired, much better than what I was going to call it! Sara, you rock my world, Dahling! Her story, 'But I Love Him' is coming along incredibly, I am so happy that I get a glimpse before everyone else! It is definitely one of my favs, and it should totally be one of yours too!
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the residents of Stars Hollow, or Hartford, for that matter. I do own most of the people that you will meet in Newport, Rhode Island. It promises to be a very interesting vacation for Miss Rory Gilmore, one she is most unlikely to forget!
And now, without further ado, on with the next chapter!
Chapter Two- Chapstick Anonymous
"She did not!"
"She did so!"
"Wow." Rory said, shocked, but resumed applying her lip balm. She and Lorelai were up in her room, while Rory got ready for the party that she and Emily were going to that night.
"Shocking, isn't it?"
"Just a tad." Rory stated sarcastically. "I just can't believe that Grandma would do that!"
"Believe it."
"Wow." She said again, applying another coat of balm.
"You said that already."
"Yeah, well, it seemed appropriate."
"I suppose so."
"Yeah."
Lorelai looked around the room, taking in the walls, which Rory had purged of the boy band posters as soon as she got to the house. "I must say, this room looks much better now that you don't have Chris staring at you."
"Oh, please, you are such a closet fan."
"I am not!" Lorelai protested, which garnered a look from her daughter. "And even if I was, there would be nothing wrong with it. They are a quality band, and they did write a few songs on their last album."
"You mean they were a quality band."
"Hey! They're just taking a break!"
"Oh, please! Now who's being naïve?"
"What? They'll be back. Just wait and see!"
"Sure Mom, whatever gets you through the night." Rory rolled her eyes, setting down the brush that she had just run through her hair, and applied another coat of lip balm.
"Are you planning on using the whole tube hon?" Lorelai asked.
"What?"
"Babe, that's like the fourth time you've applied it in last ten minutes."
"That's not true."
"Now you're denying it."
"I am not."
"You just did it again!"
"I have no idea what you're talking about, crazy lady."
"That's it, I'm enrolling you in CA."
"CA?"
"Chapstick's Anonymous. I figure that they'll be able to help you shake off this addiction you seem to have."
"You do know you're insane, right?" Rory asked, as Lorelai advanced toward her.
"Now Baby, give Mommy the lip balm." She coaxed, holding out her hand.
"Mom, stop."
"Rory, admitting you have a problem is the first step in your recovery. Now give it to me!" Lorelai attempted to snatch it from her, but Rory ducked under her outstretched arm at the last minute.
"I'm not giving it to you." She said, closing the door to her closet, pulling the dress she was going to wear to tonight's soiree off of its padded hanger. Slipping the silky blue fabric over her head, she walked out of the closet, her heels in hand.
"Ready to confess you're a closet chapsticker?" Her mother asked, grinning.
"What is with you and all these non-words today?" Rory asked, smirking. "First the 'nane' nonsense, now 'chapsticker'? Who taught you English, anyway?"
"Hey, not all of us can graduate valedictorian, Missy."
"That has nothing to do with my ability to use words that are already in existence."
"How do you think that new words are made then?" Lorelai countered with her hands on her hips, and a grin starting to form. "Someone has to come up with them, why not your beloved mother?"
"Whatever." Rory relented, turning around, pointing to the back of her dress. "Zip me."
"Say the magic word."
"Please."
"That's not the magic word."
"Abracadabra, then."
"Closer, but still not it."
"Mom, I don't have time for this. Grandma and I have to leave in like twenty minutes, and I need at least two cups of coffee before then."
"There it is! You just said the magic word!"
"Which one?"
"Duh! Coffee." Lorelai giggled, finally pulling the zipper up her daughter's back, fastening the little hook at the top. "Get with the program, Gilmore."
"How is abracadabra close to coffee?"
"Well, alphabetically speaking, 'A' and 'C' only have one letter in between them, while 'P' and 'A' have fourteen." She replied. "Hence, they are closer."
"You should be studied, Mom." Rory said, placing her much talked about lip balm into her evening bag, along with a small book.
"Really? Am I that good looking?"
"No."
"Ouch! That really hurts." Lorelai clutched her heart, falling dramatically back on the bed, Rory's fluffy pink comforter billowing around her. "Besides, you carry half of my genetic material, what does that say about you?"
"That I'm damn lucky that my father is attractive."
"Oh, the agony! And to think, I went through nineteen hours of labor, all for you to turn evil twenty years down the line!" She cried, thrashing around the bed in mock pain, knocking several throw pillows to the floor in the process.
"Drama queen."
"Hey!"
"I'm going to go and get some coffee, you coming?"
"Hell yeah!"
-
"Emily!" A woman called as she and Rory walked through the front door. "How lovely to see you!"
"Evelyn!" Emily greeted the woman warmly with a kiss on both cheeks. "It is wonderful to see you too. This is my granddaughter, Rory. I don't believe you two have met."
Evelyn Lynn clasped Rory's outstretched hand. "Oh, I feel as though I know you already Rory. Your grandparents speak very highly of you. You go to Yale, don't you?"
Rory nodded. "Yes, I do."
"Do you enjoy it there?"
"Yes, it is a wonderful school."
"It's a pity my Madeline didn't choose to follow in her father's footsteps. He's a Yale man, you know." Evelyn went on, pointing at a man with dark hair on the other side of the room. "Remind me to introduce you two later."
Rory looked around the room, and unfortunately, she didn't spot anyone near her age bracket. All the partygoers seemed to be at least forty. She didn't want to be there, but felt obligated, because her grandmother had wanted her to go with her.
"So, Emily, where is Richard tonight?" Evelyn asked.
"He is away on an extended business trip." Emily replied, not missing a beat. "He should be back by the end of the August."
"What are your plans for the summer, dear?" Evelyn asked Rory.
"Actually, Grandma and I are going to visit one of her friends for a little over a month."
"Really?"
"Yes. We are spending the summer with Lulu Carrington in Newport." Emily explained further.
"Oh, what a lovely woman. Her daughter Clara is here tonight, with her husband and their son." Evelyn commented, distracted by someone on the other side of the room. "Oh look, Emily, it's Paige. You simply have to hear the story about what happened between Gloria and Hunter. It's simply scandalous!"
As Evelyn Lynn led Emily off to one of their friends, Rory took the opportunity to slip away from them. She loved her grandmother dearly, but she didn't have any desire to hear any more gossip about who was sleeping with whom and which trophy wife had gotten a botched nose job. She had definitely gotten her fill at the meetings and luncheons that she attended with her grandmother.
She took off down a random hall, one that wasn't very populated, in search for a quiet place to read the book she had brought with her. The route she was taking seemed familiar, but she hadn't been in this house in over a year.
She was about to open a door when a faint sound stopped her. Intrigued, she followed it, and as she got closer to its source, she realized that someone was playing the piano in the music room. Whoever was playing was quite talented, she thought as she pushed open the door, the sight before her taking her completely by surprise.
"Tristan?"
Tristan Dugrey, who had been gracefully playing the piano, looked up, and slammed his strong hands down onto the keys, creating a dreadful sound. "Rory?"
"What are you doing here?" They both said in unison. Their eyes met and they both laughed nervously.
"I came with my parents, who I ditched as soon as I possibly could. What are you doing here, Rory? This is the last place I ever expected to see you." He said, his eyes never leaving her face.
"Wow, that's twice in less than two minutes that you called me by my real name." Rory smiled. "I feel like I should call the people over at Guinness, and let them know about it."
"If I remember correctly, Rory was just a nickname, Mary." Tristan smirked as she walked further into the room, stopping a few feet away from him.
"And the count stops at two." Rory rolled her eyes at the old nickname. It had been nearly three years since she had last heard it, and even though she didn't want to admit it; she had missed hearing it.
"I never thought that I would see you at one of these parties."
"I'm spending the summer with my grandmother, and she kind of dragged me here."
"You mean you didn't come here to see me?" He joked, his face a mixture of amusement and mock shock.
"Hah."
He slid over on the piano bench, giving her room to sit next to him.
"So, how was military school?" She asked.
"Don't ask." He shivered, running a hand through his hair, now an unruly mess again.
"Aw, did they cut your hair?" She mocked him, as soft smile playing on her lips.
"Have you ever seen a military school attendee with hair like this?" He smiled, pointing to the top of his head.
"Nope. They usually have much nicer cuts than that."
"Ouch."
"Yeah, well the truth hurts, baby."
"Baby?"
"I could always go back to Satan, if you prefer."
"I'll think about it, and get back to you."
"Sound's like a plan."
"So, how is Harvard?"
"I'm not the person to ask. If you want to know about Yale, however, I'm your girl."
"So what happened, if you don't mind my asking. You seemed very adamant about going there." He asked, turning more to get a good look at the beauty that was sitting beside him. If it were possible, she was more breathtaking than the last time he saw her.
"I didn't want to leave my mom. We're really close, and Yale isn't as far away, after all." She explained, taking note of the changes about him. His shoulders seemed broader, his features more defined, but there was something in his eyes, something she couldn't quite place. "Plus, my grandfather went there, and my grandparent's really wanted me to go there."
"Huh."
"Hey, Yale is just as good as Harvard, buster." Rory shot at him, getting annoyed. "Where did you end up?"
"Princeton."
"Huh." She mocked. "I guess it's a good thing I didn't decide to go there, then."
"And why is that?"
"Because I'd have to deal with you every day."
"Hey, that hurts, Ror."
"Three."
"What?"
"Three." She repeated.
"I heard you, but what does 'three' mean?"
"That is the number of times that you haven't called me 'Mary'." Rory smirked. "I thought that Princeton was supposed to be a good school."
"It is, they just don't have 'Rory Gilmore 101 in their curriculum."
"See? What did I tell you? Yale is better."
"I don't remember you saying that."
"Well, it is quite obvious. After all, Princeton doesn't have me, now does it?"
"Nope, I guess not." Tristan smiled, but his heart was racing. What was it about this girl that always seemed to send him spinning out of control? He never thought he would see her again, and now she was sitting next to him.
"This is a little déjà vu-ey, isn't it?" Rory commented softly. God, she thought. How was he doing this? She had only been with him for a short time, but she could feel herself getting lost in his blue eyes. In the past, she had always caught herself before she did something stupid, but she could feel herself gravitating towards him, and there was nothing she could do about it.
"Déjà vu-ey?" Tristan raised his eyebrow. "Is that even a word?"
"Non words seem to be the thing to say, today at least." Rory smiled at the memory of her mother's antics earlier. "Anyway, I meant that we were here, on this bench three years ago." She bit her lip nervously. What was she thinking? He probably didn't even remember that kiss. After all, she was just one girl in a long line of other women that he had probably had, maybe even on this very bench.
"Yeah, we were." He said, his voice dropping an octave as he remembered that night. He had never felt a spark quite like that before that night. Hell, he had never felt a spark like that after that night, for that matter.
Rory bit her lip, and nervously ran her hand through her hair, or she tried to, anyway. Her finger caught the hoop that was dangling from her ear, and it rolled away, somewhere under the piano.
"Shoot." She said, moving off the bench to fetch her earring. Crawling on her hands and knees underneath the baby grand, Rory spotted a flash of silver, and reached for it.
Her fingers closed around the average sized hoop, and she began to back out from under the piano, but she startled herself when she backed into one of the legs, and hit her head on the underside of the piano.
Tristan heard a muffled thud, followed by a soft "Owww". It was more than obvious that she needed some help, or she might cause serious brain injury.
"Here." He said, stooping down beside the large instrument, taking her hand to lead her out. Once again in the light, she leaned against the side of the piano, rubbing her head. "Are you okay?" He asked, his voice full of concern.
"Yeah, I don't think any permanent damage has been done." She joked, attempting to control her heart rate. He was so close to her, he must have been able to hear it as it attempted to pound out of her chest.
"You sure?" Tristan surveyed the damage, desperately trying to ignore the feeling of her silky hair slipping through his fingers.
"I think I'll live." She smiled, looking into his eyes.
Bad idea.
"Yeah, I guess..." He trailed off, leaning in slowly, his eyes never leaving hers.
Their lips met, soft, feather light at first, but it quickly accelerated from innocent to searing, as the pressure of his lips increased, searching for an answer to an unasked question.
She passionately deepened the kiss, threading her fingers into his hair, pulling him closer. Rory had never felt like this before. Even their last kiss had been marred by her guilt over Dean.
She clamped down on that familiar feeling that was beginning to rise within her. Nothing was going to ruin this moment, especially not Dean.
The need for oxygen was becoming urgent, but he didn't want to break their connection. Tristan fought against all of his body's natural urges, which were screaming for air. He didn't want to pull away, only to see her crying again.
Rory couldn't breathe, but she didn't care. The only thing that she cared about was that she was kissing... Tristan? What was going on here? She hadn't seen him in almost three years, and suddenly, she's in his arms, her lips on his. What was she doing?
"Rory!"
"Rory!" She reluctantly pulled away from Tristan; both of them dazed, heads still spinning. But Rory did hear her Grandmother's voice as she floated back down from the lofty haze she had been in.
"I... that... we..." She struggled to find words, but couldn't seem to make her brain think straight. "My... grandmother... she's..." Rory tried to make a coherent statement, which was still difficult. "I have to go." She finally got out, leaving his embrace, unable to look back as she hurried out the door.
What? You didn't think it was going to be that easy, did you?
