Disclaimer: Nope, none of it's mine.

A/N: This chapter is really, really short but that's because the next chapter is --Insert suspenseful music here-- the last chapter! It'll be up sometime soon. Try to enjoy this one, and please review!

Diez y Siete

"I can do everything for the next two weeks from home, and fax everything into you." Rory said. She was scribbling furiously as she held the phone between her ear and shoulder. Lorelai walked into the kitchen and over to the coffeepot. She poured herself a cup while blatantly eavesdropping on her daughter's conversation.

"Of course, Mr. O'Brien. Except for Jess Mariano. J.F. York, I mean. I've already talked to Johnson, and he's going to supervise the final printing of the book." Rory finished, putting down her pencil and drumming her nails on the tabletop.

"Yes, I'm sure." Rory said. She paused while her boss spoke to her and said, "Thank you, Mr. O'Brien. Right, two weeks. Thank you." Rory clicked off the phone and placed it on the table.

"Staying with us 'til after Christmas then, babe?" Lorelai asked, sitting at the table and facing her daughter. "While asking would've been nice, you're welcome of course."

Rory shook her head. "No. Well, maybe. I haven't thought about that yet. What would you think about me going back to school?"

"What?" Lorelai asked, confused. "What does that have to do with you staying with us over Christmas?"

Rory thought for a moment. "Nothing," she replied honestly. "But it has everything to do with the fact that I just quit my job."

"What?" Lorelai asked, setting her coffee mug down with a loud clatter. "That's what just happened?"

Rory nodded and folded her hands. "I just turned in my two weeks' notice at Rand Florin."

"Babe, I hate to say this to you, but…huh?" Lorelai asked, confused and nervous for her daughter.

"When I graduated from Yale, I was only three classes away from a double major in journalism. I've been doing some thinking-."

"Glad to know something productive came from locking yourself in your old room." Lorelai interrupted.

"And I hate being an editor." Rory finished as if her mother hadn't spoken. "That's not true. I don't hate it. It's not a horrible job. I love to read, and it's really good for that and I've met some really, really great authors. Most of them suck, but some of them are good. It's not a bad job."

"But…" Lorelai said helpfully.

Rory looked up at her mother and there was a film of tears glazing over her eyes. "I can do more. I know I can. I miss journalism. I miss newspapers. It's what I always wanted."

"I know that." Lorelai said, lightly touching her daughter's arm. "You're the one who forgot."

Rory looked down at the table again. "I know. I just…I made a mistake. I got scared and I made a mistake."

There was a long moment of quiet between mother and daughter before Lorelai said, "Just for clarification, we're not just talking about career choice anymore, right?"

Rory's response was a deep sigh, followed by dropping her head onto the table and resting it there. "I love him." She mumbled against the tabletop.

Lorelai grimaced. "I was hoping that'd get less horrifying to hear as time went on. It hasn't."

"Eternally not helpful." Rory said. "Advice would be nice."

"Well you already messed it up too badly to fix it." Lorelai said, not missing a beat. Rory sat up straight and stared incredulously at her mother.

Lorelai rolled her eyes at Rory. "It's moments like this that proves that you're my biological offspring. I can tell you whatever you want me to, kid, but it doesn't make me a mind reader. I don't know where Jess stands on…well…religion, political views, your relationship status, pretty much anything for that matter."

"He doesn't practice a religion. He's a registered democrat, but only because the Green Party will never get a candidate in office." Rory said offhandedly.

"See?" Lorelai said, calling up all the support she could muster and smiling gently. "You've already got two out of three." She nudged the phone closer to Rory's hand. "Care to go for broke?"

Rory picked up the phone and stared at the buttons apprehensively. She looked up at her mom and asked, "Could you not listen to this one, please?"

Lorelai sighed and stood up, coffee cup in hand. "So lucky you're my daughter." She said good-naturedly as she walked out of the room.

Slowly, Rory dialed Jess's number.


Jess walked into his empty apartment and tossed his coat on the sofa. He looked around sullenly, almost expecting Rory to greet him even though he knew it was foolish. Every day since she had left, he still entered the apartment and looked around for some trace of her. Besides a small box of book, strategically positioned next to the wardrobe where he had to deliberately look to be able to see it, there was none. It was as if she'd never been there, except he knew fully well that she had been.

Jess walked over to the answering machine and pressed the button. He walked away absentmindedly and over to refrigerator for a bottle of water.

"Hey, Big Brother. Mom and Jimmy told me about the latest book news. The only way I could be more excited would be if it had come directly from you. Would a phone call directly to me have killed you...ass. OK, I'm late now, and by late I mean I'm still going to be five minutes early. Call me, jerk. Maybe I can convince mom and Jimmy to let us come to New York for Christmas. Call me! Oh, hi Rory!"

Jess flinched at the last part of her message. He hadn't talked to Lily in a few weeks. He hadn't told that Rory had moved out, and he didn't want to do that quite yet. Lily liked Rory from the few times they'd spoken on the phone, and Jess felt uncomfortable saying she was gone.

"Mr. York, Patrick Johnson here. Just wanted to remind you that if there are any last minute changes you want to make, you need to call me here at Rand Florin immediately. The book goes to print tomorrow morning. I'll be here until 5."

Jess didn't think much of the message. The book was finished. There was nothing he wanted to change in it. It was going to print the exact same way he and Rory decided it would.

Before his machine could robotically inform him that he had no more messages, the phone rang. He walked over and picked it up, turning the machine off as he did so.

"Speak your piece." He said dully, taking a sip of water following the statement.

There was a moment of silence before Rory quietly said, "That's new."

Jess stiffened immediately, quashing the feelings of hope that tried to swell up and replacing them with cool indifference. "Yeah." He said shortly.

"Hi." Rory said after another silent moment.

"Hey." Jess said, keeping the sharp tone in his voice. "What?"

Rory took in a sharp breath at his abruptness. Before she could respond, he said, "I'll send your books to your apartment, don't worry. Just haven't gotten around to it." Avoiding it was more accurate, but damned if he was telling her that.

"I'm not there." Rory said, still speaking softly.

"In Stars Hollow?" Jess asked rhetorically, knowing the answer. "Typical."

"I didn't call to fight." Rory said, losing all energy left in her voice.

"Good." Jess said, realizing he was gripping the phone so tightly that his hand hurt. "Because the energy that would take really wouldn't be worth it."

"No, it wouldn't." Her voice was sad now, and Jess almost lost momentum. The word mediocre replayed in his head though, and he found the energy to remain angry.

"So, what do you want?" Jess bit again.

Rory was breathing raggedly, but besides that there was nothing on the other end of the line for a full two minutes. "Hypothetical situation." She said evenly, as if it took great concentration for her to form the words.

"Oh, goody." Jess snapped. "More games. Alright, let's hear it."

"Say I called to try and take everything I said back, to tell you that maybe you weren't wrong and I was just scared. Maybe to tell you that I love you too. How might you react to that?"

Jess's heart was ready to burst at the genuine emotion in her voice, but that didn't stop him from answering immediately. "I'd laugh." He responded. "I'd laugh and tell you to stop kidding yourself."

"O-oh." Rory stammered. "You would?"

"Yup, and I'll even tell you why. You were right, kid. I was fooling myself. In love with you? Please. It's never been you, Rory. Not ever. It was just convenient. We were stupid to think we belonged together in any sense of the word. Best friends, a couple, fuck buddies, whatever. We can't function together. Never could. I don't know what I was thinking, but it was never you."

Jess heard the words spill from his mouth, but he wasn't exactly sure who was speaking them. Certainly it wasn't him, this man who loved this woman so much. Who would say such cruel things just because of their hurt pride?

She was crying now. Soft, almost inaudible whimpers floated over the phone line and landed in Jess's hands. He made her cry.

"Good think it was a hypothetical." Jess said, maintaining that cool tone that he had learned from her. "Bye Rory."

The moment the phone was out of his hands, all the fight leaked out of Jess and he deflated. He sat down on the floor, and then let himself fall back so he was staring at the white ceiling. There were cracks permeating it. He traced them from one end to the other, and back again. He was stupid, and he knew it. But she'd been stupid first. They didn't have time to be happy. They were too busy being complete morons. They didn't deserve it either. They always just fucked it up. He'd done the right thing, destroying her the way she destroyed him.

Jess felt nauseous, but just lay there and let the feeling wash over him. He was going to have to get used to feeling terrible. He let out a long shaky breath. He couldn't get himself out of this one. She was going to apologize, and he cut her off at the knees. There was nothing left. This couldn't be fixed. It was never you. Those words had actually come out of his mouth, exploded as if attached to a missile. It was never you. It was the biggest lie he'd ever told.

It was better this way, though. He repeated that mantra in his head. It's better this way. It's better this way. It's better this way. It's better this way.

OK, maybe that was the biggest lie he'd ever told.