An Author's Pre Nosh Ramblings- Hello all! I'm back again, it hasn't been too long, has it? Hehe. Another offering of this story, I hope that everyone is enjoying this story, and how it is developing!

A special thank you to Sara, (Shouhei) my wonderful Beta Buddy. Her words of encouragement and exceptional eye for detail continue to make my chapters even better than they were before her! Go and read her new story 'Thigh Highs', it's absolutely amazing.

I'm not sure how much I'll be writing for a while. A lot of family stuff happening all at once, none of it good, plus finals and I work retail. So, if you can imagine, I won't have a lot of time.

But enough of this stuff, that's what the blog is for!


Chapter Seven- Something Parental This Way Comes

"I can't believe you told her!"

Tristan gave her a look before lining up his shot. "It wasn't like I planned it, Mollie. It just kind of… happened."

"Still… you told her." Mollie smirked. Her little soundtrack had definitely done its job. She knew that it would make Tristan or Rory go out on that limb and tell the other how they felt, but honestly, if she had to put money on one of them, Mollie would have picked Rory.

"I swear, it was the Lennon. He makes people do crazy things." Tristan explained, cursing under his breath as he missed the red ball he was aiming for. He and Mollie were playing a 'friendly' game of pool. It was nearly one in the morning, and the game was almost over. Tristan just needed to get that red and the eight ball, while Mollie still had at least two other shots to make before she could even think of going in for the kill.

Usually, Mollie was a pool shark. She could easily beat Tristan without even trying. Tristan was no slouch by any means, but Mollie seemed to be especially gifted at the game. So the fact that Tristan was winning pretty easily had him a little worried.

Mollie seemed different. She was still her bubbly, cheerful self, but there was something lurking behind her smile. Something major had happened, and from what Tristan could tell, it wasn't good. The light that shone in her deep green eyes was a little dimmer.

"Why do you think that I picked him?" Mollie informed him, sinking a stripe. "I know the effect that he has on people, especially you."

"Evil."

"I know, we learned from the best."

"Yeah, Gran was a great teacher."

"You know Rory's gonna avoid you, right?" Mollie said suddenly.

"Yeah, I kind of figured." Tristan shrugged. "I guess I'm just going to give her space until she figures everything out."

"That's healthy."

"Yeah. It's just, I've wanted this for so long that I guess I'm willing to wait a little while to see where it goes."

"Yeah, right."

"You don't believe me?"

"Not really, no."

"Well, then I guess I'm full of surprises tonight." Tristan grinned widely as his cue came in contact with the eight ball. "I believe that means that I just won."

"Wow! There's a first time for everything!" Mollie rolled her eyes.

"You say that like it's never happened before." Tristan said. "I've beaten you before."

"The last time you beat me was when I broke my finger in the Water Olympics of 2000." Mollie smiled at the memory. "But at least I won that competition."

"I still say you cheated." Tristan grumbled, remembering the event. "I mean, you kissed two of the judges. That wasn't fair."

"It's not my fault that Sully and Tyler both had crushes on me." Mollie shrugged. "And I'm sure it had nothing to do with anything but their enthusiasm of my cannonball."

"Sure."

"Believe whatever you want to, Tris." Mollie patted his cheek. "I'm going to bed. It's exhausting being me."

"I don't doubt it."

"Shut up."

--&--

Rory peered cautiously into the dining room the next morning. Seeing no sign of Tristan, she took a seat next to Emily, and poured herself some coffee.

"Good morning Rory." Emily greeted her.

"Morning." Rory answered after taking a long swig from her cup. God, that was good coffee. Not as good as Luke's, but a vast improvement from what the 'maid of the week' made at her grandparents house.

"What do you have planned for the day?" Emily asked her. "I'm going to visit a very dear friend, a little later. She and her husband went to Yale as well. You should come with me, it would be a wonderful opportunity to make some connections."

Rory froze. She had absolutely no desire to go to visit yet another 'dear friend' of her grandmother's. They were usually dull, and snobby, and they seemed to be able to tell that she wasn't really one of them, despite her familial background.

"Actually, Mrs. Gilmore, Rory and I are going visiting ourselves." Rory looked up to see Mollie walk into the room and sit down across from her. "I just got a call from a good friend of mine, and I would love to introduce him to Rory."

"That's wonderful." Emily beamed. "I'm sure that Rory would love to meet a friend of yours. It will be good for her to meet more of her peers, and it would probably be nice to get out of the house."

"Great." Mollie smiled, digging in to her French toast. "I figured that we could leave around noon."

"Okay." Rory nodded, grateful to Mollie for saving her from another day of endless gossip with the borderline bluehairs. She mouthed 'thanks' to her as Emily returned her attentions to her breakfast.

Mollie smirked, happy with herself. She wasn't going to let Rory or Tristan off the hook.

Not one bit.

--&--

"So, where are we going?" Rory asked, as she and Mollie got into Mollie's car. She had been instructed to wear something suitable for tennis, but Rory didn't have anything like that, so she had to borrow an outfit from Mollie, who was surprisingly close to Rory's size, despite the few inches of height difference between the two girls.

"My friend Sully is in town." Mollie answered as she started the BMW. "He just got in yesterday, and I haven't seen him in forever."

"Are you sure that you want me to come? I wouldn't want to intrude." Rory said, tugging at the hem of the white skirt. Why were these things so short? How was she supposed to be comfortable enough to traipse around after a tennis ball, when she couldn't even stand in this ensemble without fidgeting?

"Of course. Plus, did you really want to go and visit those old ladies?"

"Not really."

"So you'll come with me and have fun." Mollie grinned. "Sully is great. He's really smart, and has a great sense of humor. Plus, he's pretty easy on the eyes."

Rory raised an eyebrow, and crossed her arms over her chest. The sleeveless polo shirt was a little lower cut, and definitely tighter than what she normally wore, and she was a bit uncomfortable.

"So, tennis?" Rory asked after they had driven in silence for a few minutes.

"Yeah, he's going to be in the tournament too." Mollie informed her, referring to the annual competition that took place near the end of the summer. "We've all been in it for years, and I just want to get some court time in at his house."

"Why?" Rory asked, bewildered. Why would she need to go to someone else's house to practice when she had a perfectly good tennis court at Chateau du Sable.

"Sully has grass courts, like they have at the club." Mollie explained. "We have clay."

"There's a difference?"

"Yeah, a pretty big one. The surface that you play on affects the way that you have to play the game. Where to hit the ball, how hard, angles to your shots, stuff like that."

"Wow."

"You've played tennis before, right?"

"Not really."

"How do you pull that off?" Mollie asked, a little incredulous. "I mean, didn't they teach it to you at that fancy schmancy prep school of yours?"

"Well, yeah, they had a course on it during my junior year, but I got out of it when I fractured my wrist." Rory explained, reliving the relief that she had felt when she had escaped the horrors of gym class for half of a semester.

"Yeah, but you know the basics, right?" Mollie asked, a little hopeful. Her plan might not be as flawless as she initially thought.

"Kinda."

"What do you know?"

"That Andy Roddick looks really good when he's playing." Rory smiled. "My mom gets all hot and bothered whenever he's on the court."

"That's not too hard." Mollie agreed, feeling a little bit of warmth rise in her at the thought of the rising tennis star. "He is a fine specimen of manhood."

"Yeah."

"But what else?"

"What else what?"

"What else do you know about tennis?"

"Not much. Gilmore girls aren't exactly what we'd call 'athletic.'" Rory said. "Is that bad?"

"Nah. Tennis isn't a hard sport to get." Mollie smiled encouragingly. "Basically, you hit the ball back and forth, and the last one to get it over the net wins the point."

"Oh." Rory said. Maybe this wouldn't be that hard of a sport after all. What could be so complicated about hitting a little green ball over the net?

--&--

"So you just came out and told her?"

Tristan rolled his eyes, and returned the serve. "I swear, if one more person asks me that… it's not like I planned it, Graham."

"Still, this is the girl that you've been hung up on since we were in high school." Graham said, moving up the court to volley the ball back to Tristan. "I can't believe that you just came right out and told her. It's not like you, Man."

"I know, but it's not like I thought about it. I mean, she was there, and I was there, plus, Mollie was being devious." Tristan tried to explain, hitting a backhand shot.

"Huh?"

"She played the Lennon card." Tristan said, swearing softly as he missed a well placed hit. "Nice shot."

"Thanks." Graham took a short bow before meeting Tristan on the side of the court for a water break. "So, Mollie used your weakness for the Beatles against you? That's pretty underhanded, even for her."

"Oh, she didn't even use the Beatles, Dude, she went straight for the solo stuff." Tristan told him, cracking open a bottle of ice cold water.

"Man, that's pure evil."

"I know."

"Well, Lulu must be proud that she's coming into her own."

"Yeah. I'm surprised that she hasn't thrown a ball or anything to commemorate the event." Tristan rolled his eyes. "Gran's got enough on her plate, trying to fix Rory's grandparent's relationship. She's been spending all of her free time trying to get Emily to open up, but the woman won't budge, as far as I can tell."

"I think you have enough stuff to worry about, without adding anything from generation 'W.'"

"I know. On top of all the Rory stuff, Mollie's got something going on, and it's big."

That piqued Graham's interest. "What's up with her?"

"I don't know yet, but I'm going to find out." Tristan confided in him. "It's not good, Man, you can see it in her eyes."

"I wouldn't worry too much about it. I mean, Mollie is fully capable of handling her own stuff, plus yours, mine and at least half of the rest of the crew's."

"Yeah, I know. It's just that I hate seeing her like this." Tristan explained, taking his place back on the court, getting ready to serve. "She's the same old Mollie, but something's different… off."

"She'll talk to someone when she's ready to talk to someone." Graham reassured him, returning the serve with a flawless forehand. "Mollie'll do what she wants when she wants, you know that."

"I know. It's that big brother syndrome rearing its ugly head, I guess."

"You're going to have to watch that, you know." Graham nodded, lobbing the ball back over the net. "She'll kill you if you start to bring her social life down when you come to Yale."

"How did you… Mollie." Tristan answered his own question. No one knew about his transfer, except for himself, his parents, and Mollie.

"Did you really think that the girl was going to keep that secret for long?" Graham asked him, hitting the ball into the net.

"When did she tell you?"

"I called her yesterday around one or so, and she spilled." Graham called, taking his place on his side of the court.

"In the morning or afternoon?" Tristan asked, faulting his first serve.

"Afternoon."

"Well, she lasted five hours." Tristan grumbled, landing his second serve. He was going to have to work on that if they wanted to win the Men's doubles competition. He and Graham had come in second in their age group for the last three years. And Dugreys didn't lose very well, especially to-

"Sully!" Tristan returned the ball quickly, but Graham whirled around when he heard someone call his name. "Watch-,"

"-Out." Mollie finished, running over to Graham, who had just been struck in the back of the head by the ball that Tristan had just hit. "Are you okay?"

Graham sat up on the soft grass of the court. "I am now. How've you been, Doc Oc?"

"Ugh, why do you have to be so mean, Sully?" Mollie groaned, crinkling her nose in distaste at his choice of nicknames.

"Hey, I told you years ago, I'm fighting nickname with nickname." Graham explained. "Good hit, Tris." He grinned evilly at his friend, who had crossed the court to see if he was okay. "Now, if only you could channel this power and accuracy into your serve, we'd be set."

"Shut up." Tristan rolled his eyes, offering Graham a hand. "Sorry about that. I didn't think that Bigmouth over here was going to distract you."

"Hey! I don't have a big mouth!" Mollie defended herself. "And if you can't be nice, then maybe we'll just go and visit someone else."

"We?" Graham asked, looking around for another person, but the court, and the area surrounding it was empty.

"She got distracted, when your Mom offered coffee." Mollie explained. "I've never seen anyone with the ability to drink so much coffee before. She already had four cups before we got here."

"Wow." Graham raised an eyebrow. "So, SHE'S here?"

"Yep."

"So, I finally get to meet this amazing girl that has Tristan here all atwitter?"

"Did you just say 'atwitter?'" Mollie giggled. "Tristan, Graham just said 'atwitter.'"

"I heard, Molls." Tristan chuckled. "Dude, we've got to get you a better thesaurus. The one you have… well, I don't even want to know where you learned 'atwitter.'"

"Shut up." Graham rolled his eyes, giving him a friendly push. "Why do you feel the need to pick on me?"

"Because you make it easy!" Mollie grinned. "Oh, there she is. Over here, Rory!"

"I think she can figure it out, Mollie." Graham smirked. "It's not like there are many other groups out here."

"Shut up." Mollie narrowed her eyes playfully. As soon as Rory joined the group, she started to make the introductions. "Graham, this is Rory Gilmore, Rory, this is-,"

"Graham Sullivan." Rory finished for her.

--&--

Rory couldn't believe it. The Sully that Mollie had raved about was none other than Graham Sullivan.

How could Tristan and Mollie be friends with him? He was so… ick.

Maybe they weren't as great as she originally thought, if they hung out with people like that. Rory was a pretty good judge of character, but even she had some slips every once in a while.

The weather had quickly grown too hot to continue playing outside, so the group had decided to go back to Chateau du Sable and go swimming. Rory hadn't said much since being 'introduced' to Graham. She was too busy trying to figure out how she could have become such good friends with people who had friends like that.

"Ror?"

Rory shook herself from her thoughts and turned to Mollie. "Yeah?"

"You've been really quiet."

"I'm just thinking."

"About what?"

"Stuff." Rory answered, looking out the window as they turned back onto Bellevue Avenue. She had been very vague about how she knew Graham, not volunteering too many details. She didn't really want to relive that night, it hadn't been one of her best, after all.

"Want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

"Oh, okay."

They drove into the driveway in silence. Mollie didn't really want to push, and Rory didn't really have much of a desire to share. As they got out of the car, they were met by Graham and Tristan, who had been ahead of them on the way back.

Tristan was dying to grill Graham on how he knew Rory, but it would have to wait until later. He opened the front door, and was met with angry voices coming from a distance.

"Tell me where she is, damn it!"

"What's going on?" Rory asked, looking around. "Who is that?"

A man with sandy blonde hair and a pair of angry green eyes burst out of the parlor, shooting daggers at the group of teens at the end of the hall.

"There you are!"

Mollie stared the man down, anger that rivaled his in her own emerald orbs.

"That would be my father."


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