CHAPTER 18: KEG! LOGAN!
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my imagination.
Author's Note: I got all kinds of offers/threats to induce me to update. I think my favorite would have to be Camilla, who so kindly offered to take me on a tour of London if I would only post chapter 18. She wins for best timing, cuz I just happened to finish the story the day before she reviewed. So lucky her! (Well, maybe not so lucky. I might show up on her doorstep expecting room and board for an undetermined amount of time. Just kidding. Sorta.) Enjoy!
Rory looked around the pub, sipping her drink and hoping none of her friends saw her.
It had been months since she broke up with Logan, and she insisted that she was fine by herself. Paris would hear none of it and told her she needed a good rebound guy, because before you know it it would be summer and she would slink back to Stars Hollow where the only guy remotely her age was Kirk… and just how old was Kirk, anyway?
Rory couldn't believe she let Paris talk her into yet another blind date with one of Doyle's friends. At first, the idea didn't seem so bad. Doyle was smart; surely he would have at least one dateable friend. Unfortunately, all of Doyle's buddies were hopeless. None of them had made it to a second date, and it looked like she'd have to disappoint the latest catch.
"And then the horse says, 'hay'!" he chuckled, shaking his head and appreciating his own joke.
Rory just looked at him and blinked. She realized the joke was over. "Oh, I'm sorry, he said 'hay,' like 'hey'… I get it. Funny," she said, giving him a smile that held no warmth. O-k, time to go. "Well, Neil, I enjoyed this drink, really, but unfortunately I have to go to a weekly dinner with my grandparents," Rory said, politely excusing herself.
"Right, right, Doyle mentioned something about your 'Friday night dinners,'" he said, using unnecessary air quotes.
Rory looked at him, confused. Was he trying to make something suggestive out of dinner at Grandma's?
"Yeah…um… so thanks, it's been… interesting," Rory said graciously, standing up to go.
Neil stood up as well. "My pleasure. Maybe we could do it again sometime."
No way in hell. "Perhaps. See ya," Rory waved and then navigated the crowd to the pub door.
She opened the door only to bump into a group of people coming in. "Sorry," she mumbled, looking up. Her face fell when she saw it was Logan… with a girl. She looked vaguely familiar, but Rory didn't exactly want to take the time to find out.
"It's ok, it was my fault…" But before Logan could finish his thought, Rory scurried past him. He sighed and led the girl in.
"What was that all about?" she asked as they sat down.
"Oh come on, Rosemary. You remember Rory," Logan said, running his fingers through his hair and ordering a beer. "Where is everyone?" he muttered to himself.
"Oh, right! Chick from New Year's Eve," she said, remembering. "Wow. But that was…what, like, five months ago?"
"It wasn't that long. We broke up right before spring break," Logan said, clearly not wanting to talk about it.
"Wow! How did I not know this? Wait- broke up? That insinuates you had an actual girlfriend!" she gushed.
"Yeah - you know, I don't really wanna talk about it," Logan said, taking a long swallow of beer.
"Sure. Hey, no problem," she said. There was a pause as she randomly drummed her fingers on the table. "You really had a girlfriend? How did I not know this?" she said, unable to resist.
"Well you've probably seen Finn, what, three or four times max this semester? And he's not exactly a gossip queen," Logan said.
"True," Rosemary said. She made no pretense; she and Finn were casual fuckbuddies, no claims on each other. Sexual scratching posts and what not. But still; the great Logan Huntzberger with an honest-to-God girlfriend! Surely word would have gotten around. Come to think of it, the line to get to him wasn't so vocal until spring break.
"So how ya holdin' up?" she asked, sympathetically patting him on the arm. Luckily, the guys chose that moment to show up.
"Perfect timing, I was just about to forsake you bastards," Logan said, false cheer in his voice.
"Sorry, Finn saw-" Colin started. Finn made a slashing motion across his throat. "I mean," he said slowly, "I saw a redhead that I just had to talk to in the parking lot."
"Nice save," Rosemary said dryly, "but you don't have to cover for Finnie. I know his type," she said, smiling. "Sex-crazed Aussie," she teased him.
"Who, me? Never!" Finn said dramatically. "Come on, love, let me buy you a drink," Finn said.
"Fine," she said. "You can get me another Amaretto sour. Just don't slip any roofies in it. If we have sex, I wanna remember, got it?" she teased.
"That was just the one time, and it was totally an accident. I'll see to your drink," Finn said, wandering up to the bar.
"He's kidding about that, right?" Logan said, part amused, part worried.
"God, I hope so," Colin said. "So, guess who else we saw in the parking lot?"
"Suri Cruise?" Logan offered.
"Yeah, and she was chillin' with Bigfoot and Loch Ness," Colin scoffed. "No, actually, we saw Rory Gilmore."
"I know," Logan said, playing with the droplets of water sweating down his glass.
"No way. How do you know?"
"Because I bumped into her on my way in. Literally."
"Oh," Colin said. He surveyed Logan through narrowed eyes. "You ok?" he asked, actual concern leaking into his voice.
"I don't wanna talk about it, if it's all the same to you," Logan said easily. "So how'd you do on your English exam?"
Colin knew when to leave well enough alone. "Well, it was actually Russian lit, and it kicked my ass. Never again am I going to let the promise of a hot professor affect my course choices…"
"Paris, no more Doyle's friends. Under no circumstances am I going on any more dates with guys with freaky senses of humor," Rory said, calling to Paris the minute she walked in the door.
"Don't worry, that won't be a problem," Paris said, stamping into the common area and slamming some glue down on her craft table.
"Whoa, hey, don't take it out on Elmer," Rory said, concerned the glue would explode with the force.
"No, I mean Doyle and I broke up, so you won't have to ever see any of his dumbass friends again. For that matter, neither will I," Paris said caustically.
"Oh, Paris, I'm sorry," Rory said sympathetically.
"Yeah, well, cry me a river, I could care less," Paris said. The violence with which she was squeezing out the glue said otherwise.
"Um…is there anything I can do?" Rory asked tentatively.
Paris looked up. "Yes. Yes, you can get me a drink."
"Ok…um… we have orange juice in the fridge," Rory offered.
"No no no, my angelic Rory, I mean a drink. I'm talking a rum and Coke without the Coke."
"Ah," Rory said, understanding. "Well we don't have any of that here. Dry dorm, remember?"
"Fine," Paris said, throwing down the glue and getting up and going to her room. Rory watched her, curious to see what happened next. Paris emerged from her room with her purse and keys. "Come on."
"Where are you going?" Rory asked.
"You mean where are we going. You think I would drive drunk, Rory? I'm upset, not stupid," Paris said.
"Ok, fine, where are we going?" Rory said patiently.
"The pub," Paris declared. "My therapist is always saying I need to let loose more often. Well I'm going to squeeze a semester's worth of letting loose into one night. Let's go."
"Well… does it have to be the pub? Can't we go somewhere else? Friday's, maybe? Or the Ale House?" Rory said uneasily.
"No way, they are way too expensive. The pub is cheap. Why don't you want to go to the pub?" Paris asked.
"Well…I went there before Friday night dinner, and Logan was there with his friends. They might still be there."
"Rory, geez, get some perspective. My need for bonding and drinking overrules your discomfort level at bumping into your ex-boyfriend. Besides, you're not gonna let Mr. SexyBack dictate where you can and can not hang out, are you? He can't claim the pub as his own. That's not fair. It's common ground."
"You're right," Rory said, momentarily emboldened. "Let's go," she said decisively. "But I'm not drinking," she warned Paris.
"Fine, whatever, let's just go!" Paris said, leading the way.
"We are so getting a cab," Paris said, watching Rory dance up to the bar.
"Hello, friends," Rory slurred, plopping down on the barstool next to Paris, giggling. "I'm your Vita…meta…vega…whatsit girl. Are you tired, run down, listless? Do you pop out at parties? Are you unpoopular? The answer to all your problems is in this bittle lottle," she said, tapping her drink.
Paris wobbily leaned forward and squinted at Rory's drink. "That's not a bottle, it's a glass."
"Oh, come on, use your imagination, Paris," Rory chided. She thought for a minute, though her thoughts were very fuzzy. "Hey, Paris, did you ever wish your parents named you Normandy?"
"Norman who?" Paris said.
"What?" Rory said blankly.
"Who's Norman?" Paris asked.
"I don't know," Rory said.
"You said something about a Norman."
"Maybe that's the bartender's name." Rory sat up straighter and peered down the bar, waving her hand to catch the bartender's attention. "Excuse me, is your name Norman?"
"No, I'm Vince," he said in a voice that belayed experience with the drunk and disorderly.
"He said no, his name is Vince." Rory relayed to Paris. The bartender shook his head and went to the other end of the bar. "I bet he sucks," Rory pouted.
"Why?"
"Cuz he's a guy, and guys suck."
"No, Vince is good. He is the bringer of the magic potion that sets us free from our daily trials and tribulations," Paris said, gesturing with her half-empty drink.
"I thought he poured the shots," Rory said, not making the connection.
"That he does, Gilmore, that he does," Paris said, taking a swig.
"You know what sucks?" Rory said sadly.
"Men! Men suck!" Paris said emphatically.
"Yeah, that too. But what also sucks is irony."
"Lay it on me, sister."
"Logan said he loved me, you know," Rory said, looking down into her drink.
"No!" breathed Paris.
"Yeah. Yeah he loves me and so Zack proposed."
"Huh?"
"Zack saw Logan say he loved me and he proposed to Lane. So now Lane and Zack are getting married and Logan and I broke up. Stupid boy."
"Yeah, stupid boy," Paris agreed. "They're all so stupid and… and stupid-y, ya know? Like Doyle. We were sleeping together, right? And then I make some very minimal suggestions regarding foreplay and he gets up and says I can't take this anymore, Paris. You're so demanding, Paris. Let me do my thing, Paris. Oh he can do his thing. He can do his thing to other women, I don't care a snit."
"Yeah, you tell him."
"I mean, can't he take some constructive criticism? It never bothered him before."
Rory considered it. "Of course, it was probably never about his lovemaking before."
"True, but that shouldn't have anything to do with it."
"It shouldn't, but it does."
"Yeah."
"Boys suck."
"Yeah."
Rory woke up with a raging headache. "Ohh…I need tacos," she moaned to herself.
"Wha?" Paris said blearily.
Rory sat up and rubbed her face, looking around the room. Apparently she and Paris just barely made it out of the cab and stumbled into the common room. Paris was sprawled out over the sofa, and Rory was left with the armchair. "Tacos," she repeated. "Hangover food."
"Who the hell eats tacos at 8 in the morning?" Paris said crankily. She sat up too. "I'm making tea."
"Coffee," Rory suggested, barely able to string together a sentence. "Coffee. And aspirin."
"Yes. Yes, coffee and aspirin," Paris agreed. She started the coffeemaker and they went to their respective bathrooms to shower and brush the fuzzy feeling off of their tongues.
Twenty minutes later, they met back up in the kitchen. "Nectar of the gods," Rory breathed, clutching her latte mug. Paris rolled her eyes.
"So, we didn't do any Coyote Ugly impressions last night, did we?" Paris asked cautiously.
Rory giggled, then held her head from the movement. "Oh, we did no such thing," she said.
"Good," Paris said.
"You, on the other hand," Rory said, her eyes shining with laughter, "got up on your barstool and sang 'Pour Some Sugar on Me' to the 1:30 last call crowd."
"Dear Lord," Paris said, suddenly remembering. "Oh well," she said, shrugging. "I was drunk, I had an excuse."
"Yeah," Rory agreed, knowing better than to continue teasing Paris.
"Although I'm surprised you remembered, seeing as how you were drunker than me," Paris said, turning the spotlight back on Rory.
"And here it comes," Rory said to herself.
"Here what comes? I'm just curious as to why you were drinking. I mean, usually, you're not the drinking sort of girl. There has to be something going on with you to make you get that way, and as much as I'm all for bonding and all that crap, I don't think that you were truly that upset over me and Doyle."
"I just… I just felt like it, ok, Paris?" Rory said tiredly. She didn't have the energy for an interrogation.
"I'm not buying that. As your best friend, Rory, you're obligated to tell me these things, so spill. Besides, I can't have any negative karma around me during exam week, so you have to tell me or else I'll fail my exams. You don't want me to fail my exams, do you?" Paris accused.
"No, Paris, of course not," Rory sighed. Paris looked at her expectantly. "Ok, fine, so perhaps your breakup with Doyle brought back residual feelings from my very own breakup, but I'm fine. Honestly."
"No, you're not, because you wouldn't have drunk so heavily if you were fine."
Rory downed the rest of her coffee and willed the coffeemaker to hurry up so she could have a refill. "Ok, well, maybe I'm not completely fine, but I will be."
"Well what's the problem them?" Paris asked.
Rory stared into her empty cup. "I think I still love him," she said quietly.
"What?" Paris said, unable to hear.
"I said I think I still love him," Rory said miserably.
"What do you mean, you still love him? You broke up weeks ago, Rory. The boy sent you all manner of gifts and favors, but you resisted every attempt at reconciliation. And by the way, I commend you on your dedication. But it's time to move on," Paris said practically.
"I know, Paris, I know it's time to move on, but I can't, ok?" Rory said, frustrated. "I miss him, and I can't help it. I know it's better this way, that I broke things off before I got too emotionally involved so that it wouldn't hurt when he inevitably dropped me for someone new, but the thing is…" Rory stopped. "The thing is, I guess I didn't realize how emotionally involved I already was."
"Hm." Paris thought for a moment, pacing around the kitchen.
"Could you stop that? You're making me dizzy," Rory complained, putting her face in her hands to shut out the movement.
"Sorry," Paris said, standing still. "Well, the way I see it, you've got two options."
"Oh yeah?" Rory said warily.
"Yeah. One: you can get over it and leave yourself free to meet someone more dependable."
Rory rolled her eyes. "And two?"
"Two: get him back."
"Thank God exams are over. I can put all that stress behind me now."
"Finn, you didn't even go to two of your exams. What the hell did you have to be so stressed about?" Logan said with a grin.
"The three I actually took! See, I couldn't remember which professor I slept with, so I had to go to all three female-taught classes. I couldn't remember which one would give me the automatic A," Finn explained rationally.
"So wait a minute," Colin piped up. "You skipped the exams given by the male professors?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Well after all the trauma I went through concerning my first three, I didn't have the energy to make it to the last two," Finn said dramatically.
Logan shook his head at Finn's logic. "Well I, for one, am glad exams are over. See, I didn't sleep with any of my teachers, so I actually had to take them all."
"Oh please. I know for a fact that you slept with some of them," Colin jibed.
"T.A.'s don't count. Everyone knows that," Logan said, winking.
"So, are we going to the end-of-term party in Branford?" Colin asked.
"I'm sorry, did you just ask if we were going to a party? Of course we're bloody going!" Finn said.
"Good. Now… who are we going with?" Colin asked.
"I claim Stephanie," Finn said.
"Why's that?" Colin asked.
"Because she's a doll and won't care if I go home with someone else," Finn said.
"Ah," Colin said in understanding. "Smart choice. Too bad she's the only one of our friends who's that enlightened. Whatever happened to Josie?"
"The lesbian?" Logan answered.
"Oh yeah. Maybe I'll call Amy. She's still straight, right?" Colin asked.
"Far as I know; she slept with Finn last week," Logan said with a smirk.
"Yeah, and she better be straight, otherwise I'll have one more thing to add to my already long list of therapy subjects," Finn added.
"Geez!" Colin exclaimed. "Is it really that bad? I mean, have we seriously dated all the girls from Yale? Must we steal Harvard girls from the enemy?"
"I doubt you'll have to resort to that," Logan said wryly.
"God I hope so," Colin said. His eyes lit up. "Who are you gonna take? And does she have a sister? Or a cousin, I'll take a cousin."
"Actually, I thought I'd go alone… I might make an appearance and then come back to pack."
"Pack? Pack?" Finn shrieked. "This I can not abide. Why spend the evening tossing your things into poxy little boxes when you could be doing Jell-O shots with the disenfranchised youth of America?"
"That's it," declared Colin. "Which Swedish twin did you date last year?" he asked Logan.
Logan thought back. "Elsa."
"Right. Ok, so I'll take Elsa and you take Brigetta," Colin said, settling the matter.
"How is my sleeping with Elsa any different than Finn sleeping with Amy?" Logan asked, confused.
"Because," Colin said simply, "Amy was last week, and Elsa was last year. You've both slept with enough people since then that I am sufficiently un-weirded out."
Logan shook his head. "Ok, but I'm not staying long…"
"Rory!" Marty called across the quad.
"Hey, Marty!" Rory cried, jogging the last few steps to meet him and launching herself into his arms.
Marty blushed. "Hey, wow, it's good to see you too," he said, hugging her awkwardly and then stepping back. "You do realize that you saw me like two hours ago, right?"
"Yeah, but this time it's different," Rory explained.
"How so?" Marty asked, falling into step beside her as they walked back to her room.
"Because it's so… so final now. Today's the last day I'll be on campus. I'm taking all my stuff home tonight and I won't return until fall. It's our last day as sophomores, Marty!"
"And thank God for that," Marty said. "That means I've finally declared and get to take classes that actually relate to my major."
"Yeah, but I'm talking about another chapter of our lives being over," Rory said dramatically. "It's gonna be a whole summer before I see these hallowed halls again."
"Well you could always take summer classes," Marty joked.
Rory backtracked. "Yeah, well, maybe a few months of not-school won't kill me." She grinned with Marty. "What are your summer plans?"
"Well, the life of the underprivileged Ivy Leaguer never rests. I'm working for my dad this summer. And you?"
"I think I'm gonna play it by ear. Mom has a lot of things planned, some Stars Hollow traditions that I missed last year by running away to Europe with Grandma." Rory thought for a moment. "You know, I've spent at least part of the last two summers in Europe, which is highly unusual for a girl who for the majority of her life never traveled more than two states away. Hm. Well, anyway, as for the rest of the summer…" Rory shrugged. "Who knows?"
"Well, you know, if you don't have anything better to do," Marty said, looking at his feet as they walked, "you always have a standing invitation to come visit me." He looked up to gauge her reaction. "I mean, it will probably be boring, but you could come if you want to," he finished quickly.
"Aw, Marty, I'd love to! Maybe Mom and I could plan a road trip and you could take a few days off or something. Or maybe a weekend," Rory said.
"Yeah, yeah, that would be fun," Marty said, relieved and a little bit hopeful.
"And I assume that invitation extends to Paris too, right?" she said innocently. Marty just looked at her, not sure if she was kidding, and in case she wasn't, tried to think of a polite way to pre-un-invite Paris. His confusion was relieved when Rory laughed. "Kidding, I'm totally kidding!" she guffawed. "You should have seen the look on your face!"
"You know, I wanna believe that you would have felt the slightest bit guilty if I'd had a heart attack just then," Marty said as she unlocked her door.
"Of course I would have," Rory said. "And I would have read a very nice poem at your funeral."
"Thanks," he said dryly as he shut the door behind them.
Rory grinned. She walked in and noticed the stacks of boxes piling up outside Paris' door. "Anyone home?" she called.
Paris poked her head out of her room. "Yeah. Listen, what are you planning to do tonight?" she asked with her usual brevity.
Rory looked at Marty who shrugged. "Nothing in particular. I was planning on taking my last carload of stuff home tonight. What did you have in mind?"
"Well, the year is over, and I'm leaving tomorrow, and I thought we needed some kind of cathartic experience," Paris said.
"What did you have in mind?" Marty asked.
Paris looked at him, just now noticing he was in the room too. "Well, there's this party in Branford, I'm not sure which floor…hell, if it's a good party, it will be the entire building. Anyway, I think we should go," she finished. "You can come with us, if you want," she reluctantly tossed in Marty's direction.
"Thanks, Paris, that means the world to me," Marty said sarcastically, putting his hand over his heart. Rory rolled her eyes and pulled his hand down.
"Sure, why not? A little revelry never hurt anyone. Besides, it will be our last chance to bond with anyone who's graduating! Aw, man, I just thought about it, some of our friends are graduating!" Rory said. "Well, not friends per se, but acquaintances! Very almost-close acquaintances! A handful of people in my lit class and some friends from the paper…and that kid in my science class! Aw geez, it's gonna be so sad."
"Is she always this sentimental?" Marty asked Paris.
"Rarely. So, yes? We're going?" Paris said, tapping her foot impatiently.
"Yes, let's!" Rory exclaimed.
The trio followed the sound of a thumping bass into the first room of the party, which had already spilled out to the entire first floor.
"You guys want a beer?" Marty asked, raising his voice to be heard over the thumping.
"Sure," Paris shouted back.
"Me too, thanks, Marty," Rory added.
"Ok, I'll be right back," he said, off in search of the keg.
Rory and Paris looked around the room, realizing that they didn't know a single soul. That is, until Rory heard an unidentifiable voice say, 'Logan, buddy, you owe me twenty bucks!'
"Oh geez, oh geez," Rory said, one paper bag shy of hyperventilating.
"What?" Paris said.
"I think he's here."
"Who's here?"
"You know who! Logan!"
"Well of course he's here. It's a party. That's what he does," Paris said dismissively.
"That's not all he does," Rory said in his defense.
Paris raised an eyebrow. "So, what, are you going to talk to him?"
"I haven't decided yet," Rory said nervously, wringing her fingers.
"Come on, Rory. We've been over this. Two options: get over him, or go get him. It's very simple."
"It's not that simple. I need to carefully weigh the pros and cons of both choices."
"Well, you better do your list-making fast, because everyone's moving out this weekend, and now might be your only shot at reconciliation," Paris said.
Rory was momentarily emboldened. "You know what? You're right!"
Paris snorted. "Of course I'm right. I'm always right."
Marty approached them, carefully balancing three drinks in his hands. "Here you go, guys."
"Thanks. Well, I'm off to mingle," Paris said, with one last challenging look at Rory. Feeling she made her point well enough, she walked away.
"Ok," Rory said in a tone that let Paris know she got it. She turned her attention to Marty. "Thanks," she said, accepting the drink. She took a sip.
"So, you see anybody you know?" Marty asked, looking around the room.
"I'm not sure yet…" she said, scanning the crowd. Her stomach jumped as she saw a cluster of people, hearing a telltale Australian accent from somewhere in the crowd.
"Um, there's a girl from my psych class that I should probably say hello to…she's graduating," Rory said quickly. "Um… hold my drink?" she asked.
"Sure," Marty said, looking at her strangely, accepting her cup.
"Ok, thanks," Rory said, flashing him a smile. She wiped her hands slowly on her jeans, not able to tell if it was water off the cup or sweat from her hands.
Rory tried to follow Finn's voice, for where Finn was, Colin surely was, and where Colin and Finn were, surely there was a Logan. Rory silently cursed the inordinate amount of tall people at this party, for they prevented her from seeing anything. Hands on hips, she stood on tiptoe, and there they were. The crowd shifted enough for her to see the group across the room. Rory summoned up her courage and took a tentative step into the throng, but stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Logan. She felt a lump forming in the pit of her stomach as she saw Logan with his arm around some perfectly tan and blonde girl, whispering something in her ear to make her laugh. Logan smirked and pulled away from her ear to take a sip of his drink, and it was then that his aimless gaze landed on Rory. She was rooted to the spot, all of a sudden forgetting how to walk. She felt the heat creep into her cheeks as Logan's eyes met hers. Only when his smile faltered did she realize that she was standing still. Rory blinked back the tears that burned in her eyes and suddenly turned to flee, bumping into Marty in her hurry to find the nearest exit.
"What's up? Are you ok?" Marty asked, concerned. He set down both drinks on the nearest surface.
"I'm fine… it was just…" Rory struggled to breathe. "It wasn't who I thought… it was someone else," she said sadly.
"Oh," Marty said, not sure what was wrong with her.
"I'm not feeling so great…can we go?" Rory said.
"Sure, no problem, come on," Marty said, frowning and putting his arm around her shoulders.
Rory sighed and threw her arm around his waist, squeezing it thankfully. "Thanks, Marty."
"It's ok. I didn't really see anybody I wanted to talk to anyway," Marty said comfortingly as they walked out the door.
"Rory," Logan said softly to himself the minute she turned around to go.
"What?" the girl said.
Colin and Finn looked at each other.
"Uh, nothing, listen, Brigetta, if you'll excuse me for just one brief second," Logan said, releasing her from his grip and following Rory with his eyes. He didn't take more than two steps before he saw Rory was with Marty. His eyes darkened when he saw them walk out the door with their arms around each other.
Colin turned to see what Logan was looking at and he sighed in recognition. "Actually, ladies, if you would be so kind as to excuse us, we need a word." He made significant eye contact with Stephanie who rolled her eyes and led the Swedish twins to another group.
"What was that all about?" Colin asked once they left.
"And why did we have to send the birds away?" Finn complained. Colin mouthed 'Rory.' "Ah."
"I don't know, she… she was just standing there," Logan said.
"Ok, and that is significant how?" Colin said impatiently.
"We looked at each other, and it was just… I don't know," Logan said, frustratedly running a hand through his hair. "It was just a really weird moment, is all." He sighed. "And she left with Marty. That's gotta be significant, right? I mean, she always said she was a girlfriend girl. Maybe she's with him now. It just… it didn't look like they were together. She wouldn't have approached me then, right?" Logan said, looking to his friends for the answers.
Finn sized him up. "I know it's tough, mate, but you've got to let her go. She let you go, didn't she? Look, tell ya what: come home with me this summer. I've got at least a dozen women who would give their left nuts to sleep with you. I'm being figurative, naturally. Australian women don't have nuts," he said helpfully.
"That's not it! Look, guys, I've tried that, ok? Tonight is a perfect case in point. The lovely Brigetta is beautiful enough to tempt any man, but I had to force myself to go through the motions. It's just not enough anymore, and the whole thing sucks. It sucks up one side and down the other. All the easy lays in the world aren't gonna fix my problem."
"And what exactly is your problem?" Colin pressed.
"Rory," Logan said simply. "I miss her. I can't help it and I don't know what to do about it and it pisses me off. I've never missed a girl before. I've tried sending her flowers, chocolates, even had the coffee guy follow her around for a day, but nothing works."
"Ok, well there's a simple solution for that. Just try dating somebody else if the one night stands aren't living up to their former glory," Colin said.
"No, you don't understand. Just one minute with Rory is better than a year with any of the girls we know. I gotta do something to get her back."
"Hm. Well, maybe you're going about this the wrong way," Finn said.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean you've spent the whole semester doing what you think will get her back. But you need to do something to actually get her back," Finn said.
"Well thank you Captain Obvious," Logan said dryly.
Colin nodded in agreement. "Look, ask yourself this: who knows Rory best? Who would know how to get her back? Because whatever you're doing obviously isn't working. If you really want her back, then go get her… on her terms."
Logan thought for a moment, a light bulb flickering to life in his head. "Thanks, man," he said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "You're absolutely right. Wish me luck." With that, Logan strode out of the party.
"Wait, Huntz, where you goin'? Huntz?" He called after him to no avail.
"Well, I say good luck to the crazy bastard." Finn said.
Colin turned to Finn. "You know, we need to find a Rory for ourselves."
Finn nodded sagely. "Quite. Where does one start?"
"I dunno. The paper?" Colin offered.
"Nah, too much thinking required. We might get recruited to do actual work." They shuddered. "The library?"
"I don't like the smell of the old books. Creeps me out." They both thought for a grand total of twenty seconds until Colin found a solution. "How about those Indian chicks in the corner?"
Finn followed his eyes. "Excellent idea, mate. Let's go get 'em." They shook hands and headed off to new conquests.
Oh, I'm such a bitch! You thought this was the last chapter. And it was! The first half of it! In my infinite niceness, rather than overload your senses with too much happening in one chapter, I decided to play Solomon and split this baby into two chapters. Easier on the eyes and much more plot-sensical. (And, I mean, come on. You don't want to read a file the size of three chapters, do ya? Dontcha think 25 pages is a bit much?)
But don't freak, I've already written the next chapter. And mostly just because I can, I'm gonna update on a supply and demand system. You guys supply a significant amount of reviews showing you want – no, NEED – this update ASAP, I'll post it within three days. (Wow, this sounds like a fairy tale. Or a Disney movie. Must kiss before sunset on the third day, or Ariel turns into a sea squiggly.) But if there are no reviews, that means y'all don't care, right? So I can take my sweet time, right? (That's what I thought.) And, as always, Gilmore-isms are on my profile for your viewing pleasures. Ta ta!
