A/N:Thanks for the reviews, all. I'll try to make this... er... not boring. Hehe.
Chapter One - Gilmores Divided
Normal Third-Person Omniscent PoV, yay.
Lorelai Gilmore (Senior) walked into Luke's. She muttered a slightly frosty hello to her daughter, who was already there, and sat down at the counter. She frowned, realizing the diner owner (and her future husband) were nowhere to be seen.
"Luke?" she called.
"I think he's upstairs," Rory muttered from behind the five-subject notebook she was furiously scribbling into.
"Oh, 'kay." Lorelai said. She watched Rory for a moment and made to say something, but then thought better of it. She headed up to Luke's apartment.
"Hey, Luke?" Lorelai called into his apartment. It had the air of not being used in a while, the slightly stiff smell of a vacant home. This was surprisingly comforting.
"Lorelai? Hi." He said appreciatively, giving her a quick kiss hello.
"Hey, I love what you've done with the place," She mused, now observing for the first time some stacks of boxes. He was sealing a few with duct tape. (a/n: Duct tape. Quack.)
"Oh, well, yeah, I was just packing the rest of my stuff up, you know." He said cautiously.
"Luke honey, there is no way I can fit anymore of your crap in my house." Lorelai said with a bemused smile. The fact that Luke had attempted to buy her a house had already been revealed, and sadly, there was no way to get the house back, after it was given to Kirk. Luke had, however, agreed to live with Lorelai. It proved to be the best solution in the end, because the now had enough money to expand if needed.
"Yeah, I know, I was just gonna go put it in storage." Luke said, again guardedly.
"Um, maybe you haven't noticed but it'd be a LOT cheaper to just keep the stuff here. Like, free storage. Unless there's a reason you need the stuff out of here..." Lorelai prompted. Luke sighed.
"I'm nnot's supposed to tell you, so when I do tell you, remember, you don't know. Or else, you didn't hear it from me, okay?"
"Huh?"
"Rory's moving up here. She doesn't like living with your granparents and she didn't want to intrude on us, but she misses the town, so I said she could live up here." Luke blurted out.
"Oh. O...kay." Lorelai said hesitantly.
"What?" Luked sighed warily.
"Whaddya mean, what?"
"Lorelai."
"Well, it's just that, I don't know. It'll be weird, her up here, us over there, would it be so bad if she moved back in? Does she hate me that much?" Lorelai asked sadly.
"Of course she doesn't hate you. She just... wouldn't feel comfortable... with us there. And she needs a quiet place to write, probably." Luke said wisely. Lorelai recalled her daughter writing like her life depended on it down in the diner.
"Yeah, that whole writing thing, what's that about, anyway?" Lorelai wondered aloud. Luke looked mildly shocked.
"She's writing a book and she wants to get it published. Didn't she tell you?"
Lorelai sighed heavily.
"No. Communication between us is still... iffy at best. She's all distant and the little robotic monkey that controls my brain always hits the 'cold shoulder' button whenever she's around, so I guess I'm not really surprised. About the not telling me, I mean. The book's pretty weird. She never talked about writing anything other than journalism growing up." Lorelai said.
"Well, that's good, right? I mean, now she has a plan and everything and she's working for it again."
Lorelai gave a short laugh.
"It'd be better if she were going to school to do it."
Luke gave her a sypathetic squeeze on the shoulders and kissed the future Mrs. Luke Danes. Rory stepped back from the apartment door and went back down to the diner. She grabbed her things and headed back home. There wouldn't be any space in her brain to concentrate on writing for a while yet.
Chapter One - Leslie Has a Boyfriend
For Sarah, life basically started the day she met Terrance Danes. But a close second would be the day her best friend, and close rival, Leslie Gairret moved to town. Leslie was a pretty red-headed girl with a very strict mother. Leslie always set high goals (like wanting to attend the American college, Harvard), but was too easily distracted by the glamour of possible romance or the idea of becoming a musician in a crappy local band to achieve them. Leslie was, though, a very good friend, especially to an outcast like Sarah. But boys were often intimdated by Leslie's intelligence (or they were Smash Mouth fans), and she never had a real boyfriend until the eleventh grade.
"His name is Russel, and he's beautiful, and cool, and foreign, and he plays the guitar." Leslie explained rapturously to Sarah on a foggy August morning.
"He's American. That's not exactly foriegn. Especially since you're American, too." Sarah pointed out. Living in northern Canada, Leslie had a thing for anything foreign, since their home was so... bleak.
"My Mom wouldn't think that. I swear, it's like that woman has a phobia of all Canadians. Do you know how long it took me to convince her you wouldn't run away with all the silverware if you came to our house?"
"Why's she afraid of Canadians?"
"She's a freak."
"How is it you have a boyfriend and I don't?"
"You're a freak."
"Hey!" Sarah said indignantly, swatting her friend.
"Don't take it too personally. I was just like you until..." she checked her watch. "Thirty-five minuets ago."
"Right." Sarah said sarcastically. The bell rang at that moment, and Terrance ran in. His usual favorite seat behind her (where he could kick her chair and stick gum in her hair) was mercifully occupied today by Leslie. He sat in front of her instead, making sure Sarah couldn't see the chalk board. Sarah sighed. Another day, another class.
