Chapter 2
"Go hide in the closet," Paris demanded, pointing to the door in the corner of the room.
"What?" Rory exclaimed with a frown.
"You can't be out here, looking all dateable for Jamie to see."
"Paris, I do not look dateable."
"Get in the closet," Paris said again, pointing.
They were in Washington DC for student council, and Paris was going on a first date with Jamie. For the first time in the history of Paris Gellar's life, a boy was interested in her and was taking her out to dinner.
Rory made a guttural sound of disgust and did what she was told. She slid down to take a seat in the closet, pulling a notebook on her lap. She sat aside the many envelopes from Dean and opened the blank page dressed to Jess. She'd done this many times all summer. The stack of letters from Dean grew while the unwritten letter to Jess was as blank as ever. She couldn't put anything into words. All words sounded stupid and trite.
Jess, was as far as she'd gotten. It had been weeks since she kissed him and ran away. She didn't know what to say to him. What was she supposed to say? She needed to say something. There was a reason she'd kissed him as soon as she saw him. But words weren't coming. Where should she start? What did it mean to her? What did it mean to him? She could only guess. What did she hope it meant to him? She hoped it meant something.
She stared at the blank page for five minutes. She barely even heard Paris and Jamie leave, but they were gone. And still, Rory sat hidden in the closet. It felt like a safe space to be alone with her thoughts. No one was around to ask questions about what she was writing. Or rather, what she wasn't writing.
She heaved a sigh of frustration with herself and flipped to the next page in her notebook and started writing.
Dear Tristan,
Hypothetically, if a girl kissed you and ran away after, what would you want her to say to you?
I guess that's pretty cryptic. I kissed Jess. It was at Sookie's wedding. I didn't know he was back from New York, and there he was. I didn't think at all. I just saw him and kissed him. And then I ran away. I told him not to say anything, and I ran away. Literally, I ran away to DC. I'm sitting in a closet in DC. I'm not hiding. Paris didn't want her date to see me. Yes, Paris has a date, don't look so surprised.
I don't know what to say to Jess. I'm still with Dean, for the record. That's pretty terrible, isn't it? I just don't know what to do. I need perspective. A guy's perspective.
Anyway, I hope your summer is going better than mine.
Sincerely,
Rory
XXXXX
Was she kidding him with this? Tristan tossed Rory's letter aside with a scowl. Did she not remember that he was a guy she kissed and ran away from? Her mind must really be in a jumble, to not have the self-awareness to know this was her MO.
She might be able to communicate with Tristan when she couldn't with Jess, but he took little pleasure in it. Tristan hated that guy. Even more than Dean, because he was managing to do what Tristan couldn't. He was prepared to sulk for the rest of the day, but took a deep breath. He was in North Carolina. He was not in this triangle. He was a neutral third party, and she was asking for advice. He was the only guy perspective at her disposal. Even her sage mother didn't have experience as a teenage boy. So he needed to put his personal opinions and feelings aside and be helpful.
Later, though. For the time being, Tristan had to focus on rowing. He was at a camp in Massachusetts, which he went to immediately after making up two of his classes over the summer. There were a couple of subjects he had fallen behind in when he was out on multiple suspensions at Chilton. His parents didn't need much persuading to let him stay at school and then go to camp. They were all too happy that he was keeping himself occupied and out of trouble.
It was evening when he had time to sit down and reread Rory's letter. Normally, Tristan would stick to the formula he had found effective. His letters had three important elements: an update about him—classes, activities, friends he'd made, college applications; commentary about what she'd written; and, importantly, questions for her. The last was crucial, because they had to be engaging questions that would force her to respond. It didn't matter too much what they were about, as long as they were open ended so she was forced to provide lengthy explanations. Asking questions was the key to keeping up the correspondence.
Dear Rory, he started.
Neither of these two matter. Break up with Dean. You'll have to do it eventually, anyway. He isn't going to Harvard with you. And as much of an 'intellectual equal' Jess might be, a guy who needs tutoring in every subject isn't going to Harvard either. None of this matters. These guys are not on your level. Neither of them share your academic values, and that's a big part of who you are. They have no ambition. Forget them both.
Tristan read what he'd written and tore the paper out of his notebook. He balled it up and tossed it in the trash. Sometimes he needed catharsis.
Dear Rory, he tried again.
I sincerely hope you weren't the one to set Paris up. In my experience, it does not end well.
So running away after you kiss guys is just something you do, huh? Now I know not to take it personally. You forgot we kissed that one time, didn't you? At the party?
Tristan stopped writing. When he kissed her she just wanted to make sure they agreed it didn't mean anything. And she didn't want Dean to know. This was different. Because she liked Jess, he knew. God he hated that guy. He exhaled and kept writing.
Look, watching a girl I just kissed run away isn't great. She must be running because I did something wrong, or she hates me, or I'm ugly. Or a combination of all three.
Whatever you do, don't say it didn't mean anything. It's crappy to hear a girl say kissing you meant nothing. It hurts, especially if you like the girl. It's depressing and kind of heart breaking. It just really sucks, okay? Don't do it.
Jess likes you. Why else would he be back? Why would he immediately seek you out?
To answer your question, ideally, I want the girl I kiss and like to like me back and want to be my girlfriend. Then we can kiss more. It's pretty simple.
You're 17 years old, you are allowed to break up with your fist boyfriend and date a different guy. I did it all the time. You know, with girls. It gets easier. They hate you for a while, but there's no point in staying with someone who isn't making you happy, or who isn't right for you. Even if he's perfect, maybe he isn't perfect for you anymore.
In a year, none of this will matter. You're going to Harvard and neither of them are going with you. If I had a girlfriend and we were going to different schools, I'd be making plans to break up with her before we go our separate ways.
The question is not who do you want to be with. It's who do you want to break up with at the end of senior year?
Hope this helps,
Tristan
"P.S.," he muttered as he folded the paper into thirds. "I hate them both. Just get it over with."
XXXX
Dear Tristan,
I got home from DC this weekend, and there was Jess, in the middle of town, making out with some girl named Shane. What kind of name is Shane for a girl, anyway?
Good thing I didn't pour my heart out about that kiss with Jess. It clearly meant nothing to him. I would have looked like such an idiot if I broke up with the perfect boyfriend for Jess. I wonder how long it took him to hook up with Shane. Five minutes after I left for the summer? I can tell she isn't the brightest. She definitely isn't his type.
I've spent all my spare time with Dean, and I made a list. He is the only guy for me, forever. The decision was easy, really. There was no decision. All that turmoil was for nothing. Sorry I wasted your time with that last letter.
Rory
Tristan pressed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. This was getting ugly. He moved his hand to rub the back of his neck. He picked up a pen and his notebook. He started to explain the games boys play to make girls jealous, and could not help but point out that Rory was often a boy's name.
He was done with the Jess-Dean drama. He would not address it anymore, and he wouldn't ask about them. From now on, he would only talk about school. It was senior year, and Rory needed to focus on getting into college, not these two clowns who wouldn't matter in the long run.
XXXXX
Tristan set Rory's latest letter down and stared across the cafeteria with a frown, lost in thought. Something was off. He checked the date she'd written it, and it had been a Friday night. It was after Friday night dinner at her grandparents. The letter before that was written on a Saturday, and included details about what she'd done that day. She was with Jess now, so what was she doing sitting at home at night writing letters to Tristan? Where was she finding all this free time? And these letters weren't quick check-ins either. They were fairly detailed accounts of what was happening at Chilton—things with Paris had gotten bad again, courtesy of Francie Jarvis, but were thawing after the C-SPAN meltdown. Her mom's inn burned down—well not down, but pretty badly. Fran died. And Rory got into every college and chose Yale.
He knew she didn't tell him everything though. She definitely didn't talk about Jess. She barely mentioned him after they finally got together. There was a Distillers concert. But other than that, mentions of the aspiring Hemingway were few and far between.
It was like when she listed Dean's good qualities, at length, to reassure herself she still wanted to be with him. Tristan didn't know why she thought he'd be interested in a dissertation on why Dean was such a mensch, until he figured out it was a case of raging denial. She needed to make excuses to stay with him—reasons why she definitely didn't care that Jess was dating some other girl because Rory had it so good with Dean.
Sometimes Tristan wondered if she remembered she was mailing these letters to him, and not writing a private entry in a diary. Somewhere over the course of their correspondence he'd become something of a confidant. She told him how weird it was to have a little sister, even though Rory never saw Gigi. She even admitted how disappointed she was that her parents didn't get together. He got the rough draft of the letter to Dean when she got into a car crash with Jess. She didn't know how she was going to tell him, but by the end of the letter decided she'd write another one to Dean. Tristan thought Dean would kill Jess for the accident.
Rory claimed her mother and grandparents would support her no matter what she did with her future. But he had a feeling she was under the same pressure as him to go to a top university and become . . . something. Something impressive and important. Since Lorelai Gilmore did not go to college, it was up to Rory Gilmore to step up and fulfill those expectations―without getting pregnant.
Tristan got his envelopes last month too, big and small. Luckily, there were more big than small. It was with great relief that he opened a big envelope from Princeton. Military school had worked and Tristan had lived up to family expectations.
All of Rory's sharing meant Tristan had to give too. He had to tell her his deep dark secrets, successes and failures. It was strange, but he could write it to her better than he could tell any of the friends he'd had at private school. She was happy to hear he had joined the rowing team when he heard they were short a man. He correctly thought he could endear himself to the other guys if he made himself useful. Once he believed that teamwork was important here, his newfound friends became like brothers. He felt oddly triumphant when one of his classmates said he forgot Tristan transferred in last year. It was like he'd been there the whole time.
It didn't suck here as much as he thought it would while riding that plane when he was first exiled to North Carolina. The structure helped him stay on track. The friendships weren't fake.
Tristan still missed girls though.
By the end of the week, he got another letter from Rory. He wasn't expecting it, as he hadn't replied to her previous one yet. It was an outpouring of frustration with her relationship with Jess. He was always mad and he didn't talk to her, she hated how she felt and the kind of girl she had become. There was a huge fight between Jess and Dean at a house party. Jess left. He was gone.
Tristan breathed in and out. He knew she was upset, but he was relieved. It made him queasy to think that Rory was staying in Connecticut for college, so close to Jess. Not that it mattered. Tristan would still be two states away.
She only just told Lorelai all of this. She was embarrassed for being like this. At the end of the letter she lamented that she wouldn't get to go to prom. She was planning to go with Lane, who miraculously got permission to go with Dave. Now Dave, he sounded perfect.
Tristan felt antsy. Rory wanted to go to prom and didn't have anyone to take her. There was nothing he could do about Stars Hollow's prom, but maybe . . .
Tristan stood up abruptly. He needed to make a phone call.
XXXXX
"Mom sure knew a lot of interesting facts about the Wadsworth mansion tonight, didn't she?" Lorelai commented on the drive home Friday night.
"She could give tours," Rory said dryly from the passenger side of the Jeep. "Even if I was going to prom, I wasn't going to Chilton's. Didn't she know that?"
"Do you really think that would matter?"
"It's like she was rubbing salt into the wound."
"You could still go," Lorelai said sympathetically, glancing over at her daughter. "You don't have to have a date."
"If it was Stars Hollow, I could go and hang out with Lane and Dave. But I don't really have friends at Chilton," Rory argued.
"What about Paris?"
"We're tentatively not enemies at the moment, I'm not sure I'm her best friend again." She added, "And she was never my best friend."
"Poor Paris."
"I'd rather hang out at home with you. We can watch movies and eat tons of food."
"Alright, we'll wallow."
"It won't be wallowing," Rory protested. "I don't need to wallow."
Lorelai dropped her head back. "Not this again. Come on, one boyfriend left, and the old one is getting married. That deserves a good long wallow."
After parking the Jeep in the driveway, Lorelai went to get the mail before going inside. She divied up the envelopes and magazines into two stacks and handed Rory hers.
Rory flipped through and opened the envelope with familiar handwriting. If anyone had told her a year ago that she would be sharing the details of her life with Tristan Dugray—of all people—she would have thought they'd fallen and hit their head. Hard. But it was rotten that no one kept in touch with him. At first she did feel bad for him. But then senior year started, and he was going through the same thing as her.
Tristan understood the pressures of having a top choice school and wondering about the appropriate number of back up schools to apply to, and pleasing family. She helped him narrow down essay topics, insofar as strongly recommending that he not write about Hillary Clinton. He ended up writing an interesting essay about his grandfather and asked her to critique it, since she was the writer. She suggested he give a copy of the essay to Janlen as a present after he got in everywhere.
It was nice to have someone to talk about this stuff with—senior year stuff. Jess and Lane, and even Lorelai didn't know what it was like. Paris did, of course. But Paris was a rival, even when they were friendish. Rory could mention SAT scores to Tristan. He wouldn't get bent out of shape and make it a competition. She could tell him she applied to Yale. He wouldn't have a meltdown.
When Rory pulled out the paper and unfolded it, two strips of narrow card stock fluttered out and onto the table.
"What's that?" Lorelai asked, picking up what fell. "Prom tickets?"
Rory read Tristan's short message aloud, "I'll be in town this weekend. Let's go to prom." She looked at Lorelai dumbstruck and took the tickets from her. "Chilton prom tickets? This came from North Carolina. How did he get these?"
"I don't know," Lorelai said with a shake of her head. "But you get to go to prom after all. What are you going to wear?"
"I don't know," Rory said, still processing this turn of events. She did mention she couldn't go to Stars Hollow's prom in that last letter. That wasn't very long ago, though. How did Tristan pull this off so fast? She looked back at her mother. "How will I find a dress? You don't have time to make me one—you're good, but you don't have a magic wand. And the dress shops, they'll probably be out of anything close to my size."
"Do you want to go?" Lorelai asked.
"It won't matter if there aren't any dresses. It's this weekend."
"But do you want to go?" Lorelai pressed.
Rory looked down at the tickets. She had been focusing on her bottomless end-of-year list so she wouldn't have to think about how unhappy she'd been. She put prom behind her. It was just one of those high school experiences she wouldn't have. But now there were two tickets in her hand and someone willing to take her. She looked back to Lorelai. "Yes," she said in a small voice.
Lorelai smiled slowly. "Then you're going to go."
XXXXX
Tristan came to a smooth stop at a red light in his mother's car. She had been his accomplice, calling Chilton to buy prom tickets in Rory's name and overnighting them to Tristan.
In the passenger seat next to him, Rory sat in her dress. She and Lorelai found a deep red dress with off the shoulder cap sleeves and an A-line skirt. She explained how it was the wrong size, but Lorelai spent all day cutting and sewing it to fit Rory's form.
Tristan exchanged pleasantries when he picked her up, and Lorelai took their picture. Now they were on the thirty minute drive to the Wadsworth mansion in Hartford, and the conversation was not flowing. Tristan wasn't sure what to talk about. Last time they saw each other, Rory complimented him for his soft skills, but he was at a loss. She seemed awkward too. He could count on one hand how many conversations they'd had in person when he was at Chilton. When exchanging letters, every response was delayed and thought out.
As they watched the cross traffic at the intersection, he sighed and leaned toward her. "I don't know how to talk to you in person."
"Oh god, me neither," Rory said, visibly relieved.
"We could just pass notes across the table all night," he suggested.
"We'll write on the napkins," she agreed with a grin.
Tristan drove up to the Wadsworth mansion and parked, but made no move to get out. Instead he looked up at the building, his eyes darting to see who was walking up.
"What's wrong?" Rory asked.
"Nothing," he said quickly. "I just haven't seen these people in a long time. And I'm suddenly not sure I want to see them."
Her shoulders dropped slightly. "Oh. You don't want to go in?"
Realizing he came a long way to take Rory to her prom, he couldn't back out now. "No, no, yes we're going in. In a minute. What do you think they'll expect of me?"
"Expect of you? They aren't expecting you at all. They'll be too blindsided to know what to think. Take a deep breath."
Tristan did as he was told, taking a long inhale. Then he held it.
"Let it out," she said urgently.
He exhaled with a whoosh. "Okay. Let's go in."
By the time they reached the entrance,Tristan's classmates already knew he was there. People stopped to whisper and stare at them as they walked through the foyer.
"Oh boy, they're all looking at us," she said.
Tristan tilted his head toward her. "They're not looking at me. They're looking at you. You look really pretty."
Rory shot him a smile as they walked into the ballroom. A camera flashed in their faces, catching them by surprise. They blinked until the spots faded from their vision. The ballroom was elegant and formal, with cloth covered tables bordering a large area for dancing at the front of the room.
Tristan saw at least three ex-girlfriends shoot daggers at Rory. She didn't appear to notice though.
Rory grabbed Tristan's arm. "Hey, you should meet Jamie. He's a Princeton man, so you'll know someone when you get there." She lifted on her toes and craned her neck. "They aren't staying long. They're taking a helicopter to Martha's Vineyard." When she spotted them, she pulled Tristan along.
People who only now noticed Tristan gawked and stared. It was like they didn't know if he was real or an aberration. Now he knew what it was like to be an animal at the zoo.
"Paris, hi," Rory called as she approached Paris and her boyfriend. Paris looked great, in a long sheath navy dress and her blond hair in an intricate updo. "Look who I found," Rory said, pointing her thumb back at Tristan.
Paris looked like she saw a ghost. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"He brought me to prom," Rory said. She quickly caught Paris up. They exchanged a few letters since he'd been gone. Jess couldn't get tickets, and wasn't available.
Paris was scowling. "So he let you go to prom with Tristan?"
Rory fidgeted a little. "I don't need him to let me do anything. And anyway, he left. He's gone."
"Gone where?"
Rory lifted her shoulders. She clearly didn't want to talk about this and was regretting seeking Paris out. "He didn't tell me. Or anyone. He just left."
Tristan watched her carefully, vigilant for any sign of tears.
Paris looked from Rory to Tristan, a deep frown etched on her face. "So you've been pen pals this whole time?" she asked, incredulous. It was unclear how long she would hate Tristan because of her old unrequited crush. He wondered why she liked him so much. Her standards were impossible.
"She felt sorry for me," he said quickly. "My popularity doesn't extend beyond Chilton. I'm just a regular guy out in the real world."
"I drop a line here and there," Rory said. "It's not a big deal. I know what it's like to not have friends at a new school."
Tristan steered the conversation back on track, "Rory thought I should meet Jamie, since he goes to Princeton." He added, "I'm going to Princeton."
"Yeah, remember, Paris? Your boyfriend," Rory stressed the word, reminding Pairs she'd moved on and was very happy with her intelligent older boyfriend.
That older boy joined them, giving Rory a friendly smile. "Rory, it's great to see you."
"Jamie, hi. I wanted to introduce you to Tristan. He used to go to school with us. He's going to Princeton this fall."
Jamie stuck out a hand and turned his smile to Tristan. "It's always good to meet another Princeton man."
Tristan accepted his hand and told Jamie where he would be living on campus.
Paris watched them curiously and took Jamie's arm tightly, standing up to her full height. "Jamie couldn't stop thinking about me after last summer in DC," she said defiantly, as though to prove to Tristan that she was desirable, if not to him. "He's madly in love with me."
Jamie grinned down at her.
Tristan smiled too, "That's great, Paris. Will you be joining us at Princeton this fall?"
She gave him a withering look. "I'm not following a guy to college. I'm still undecided."
They were interrupted by a familiar raspy voice behind them, "Oh my god, it's true. You're back."
Tristan turned to see Louise in a low cut strapless red dress. Madeline was next to her in a somewhat more innocent blue dress. "Tristan, hi," Madeline said brightly.
"Ladies," he greeted.
"We heard you were the knight in shining armor tonight."
"How did you hear that already?" Rory asked. She'd only told Paris two minutes ago.
"Word travels fast," Madeline said. "How's military school? I bet it's awful."
"Oh, uh, yeah," Tristan said. "Totally sucks." That was probably what they wanted to hear, right?
Rory glanced at him, a small grin on her lips. She knew it wasn't so bad, and that it was maybe even good for him. He didn't feel like getting into the details though. Not at the prom.
"Looks like Duncan heard you're here," Louise said, gesturing toward a cluster of kids.
When Tristan saw his old friend, his heart sank. "Oh." His shoulders visibly fell too.
Rory, seeing his panic, grabbed his arm. "Hey, come on. I want to dance."
He followed her to the middle of the dance floor, weaving around the other couples. She stopped and turned to him and put her hands on his shoulders. He put his hands firmly on her hips and pulled her slightly closer to dance to the Justin Timberlake song playing over the speakers. "Thank you. I didn't realize this would be so stressful."
"Neither did I," Rory said. "I forgot everyone else hasn't heard from you since you left. I didn't think much, I was just excited to go to prom."
He smiled softly. "Good, I'm glad. I can get through one night with these people." They swayed back and forth to the song. "I am surprised Duncan didn't get kicked out by now."
"Oh, well Bowman did, but Duncan's dad donated a bunch of money to the school to renovate the lacrosse field," she said.
"Ah." They swayed back and forth, Tristan focused on spinning them around rather than the people who were still glancing at him. "Jamie has all those Princeton girls, but he dates Paris." It was more of a statement than a question.
"Yes. Paris is smart and driven, any guy would be—"
"Right, right," Tristan said, cutting her off. "I've heard about her good qualities, but I only like her as a friend, okay? I just meant that there are a lot of girls in the same city as him."
"You don't believe in long distance relationships?"
He lifted his shoulders. "When you're 19, at a college full of new people? Not so much."
"Well, Paris is special. Jamie didn't want a Princeton girl."
Tristan shrugged an 'okay' and dropped it.
After a minute, Rory asked, "So, what was going on this weekend?"
"Hmm?"
"You said you'd be home this weekend, what's happening?"
He remembered what she was talking about. His brief letter. "Oh, uh, a thing―family―a family thing."
"Uh-huh. What kind of family thing?"
"Just, a thing, with family."
He wrapped one arm around her and took her hand. He could see over her shoulder, so she probably couldn't see his face.
"Did you just come to take me to prom?" Rory asked.
"Uh. Well . . . maybe." At her stunned silence, he quickly added, "You seemed pretty upset about everything. And you worked really hard this year. This is one last hurrah before college. I thought you should go."
Slowly, she said, "I don't know what to say. Thank you." She dropped his hand and gave him a hug. Tristan stiffened in surprise at first, then wrapped his arms around her. A slow song came on, so they stayed close.
"I've been thinking," Tristan said, resuming their dance. "You need to find a Dave."
"A Dave?" Rory asked, backing away from him enough to look him in the eye. "What do you mean?"
"You know, Lane's Dave. If a guy won't run a mile just to see you for two seconds or read the bible all night, you should just pass."
The corner of Rory's mouth turned up. "Dave is pretty cool."
"Now, I can't imagine staying up all night to read the bible. Unless JK Rowling wrote it. Then I definitely would."
They swayed back and forth, and he adeptly turned them around. Rory rolled her eyes. "Oh no, don't start on Harry Potter. I swear, when you finished Goblet of Fire it was like reading a fourth grade book report."
The rowing team all went to the local cinema and everyone wanted to see the second movie. Tristan watched, without any idea what was going on. He finally succumbed and read the four books that were out. He was surprised how much he actually liked them.
He smiled broadly. "Hey, come on. I was just sharing some of my theories."
"Yes, over four pages, front and back," she said. "There was an entire page on why you'd be in Slytherin."
He nodded, remembering. "I'd be Malfloy, for sure. You're obviously Hermione."
She laughed lightly. "I'm glad you found a way to make friends, but there are more grown-up books out there."
"You're just a book snob," he said dismissively. "The Order of the Phoenix is coming out soon, and one of my buddies and I are going to wait in line at the bookstore to buy it at midnight."
"And here I was excited about going to Europe this summer."
"Hey, you should go to the train station in London," he said. "Platform nine and three-quarters."
Rory glanced around. "Should you be talking about this here? Don't you have a reputation to protect?"
"Nah, I'm not going to see these people again." Eagerly, he said, "You don't have to run into the wall, but get a picture there. For me."
She smiled. "We have a pretty full agenda, but I'll see what I can do."
XXXXX
Tristan pulled up to the Gilmore house at the end of the night. Lorelai was pretty cool about how late they could stay out. Although she did eye Rory and tell her to stay away from Miss Patty's. Tristan didn't know what that was about, but Rory rolled her eyes and said they would steer clear.
They didn't come straight home after they left. The dinner at the mansion was good, but had small portions, so they were hungry by the time they left. He suggested Luke's, since she ate there every day, but Luke was awkward around her lately. Tristan reminded her Jess was the one who left, and she didn't have to feel guilty about going to her prom―even with someone else.
He told her to take a deep breath and let it out. Then he took her to a casual restaurant in Hartford that was open late. He knew the area, while even after attending school there for three years, she didn't. They each ordered a burger and a milkshake and gratefully ate a second dinner.
Tristan walked Rory up to the front door, lit by the porch light. She held her hand to her mouth to cover a yawn as she stopped to face him at the front door. "Thank you for taking me to my prom. It was good not to think about . . . everything. I actually had a good time."
He smiled back. "Good."
"I didn't mean that I wouldn't. I just don't hang out with Chilton people."
"Yeah. I know." Tristan looked down, then back at her. "I feel kind of different. Like I wouldn't be able to fit in if I was back here. I wonder if it'll be like this when I start college."
"I'm sure you'll fit in."
But would they stay in touch, if he wasn't friendless? He wasn't sure. It made him a little sad. "Hey, I got my school email."
She brightened. "Tristan at Princeton dot e-d-u?"
"There are a few numbers in there. I'll write it down when I get back to school."
"I want to be the first one to send something to your Princeton email," she said smiling.
Dodged that bullet.
Tristan let out a long tired exhale. He had to drive back to Hartford. It was probably time to say goodnight. Rory really did look pretty tonight. In fact, she looked prettier than when he went to school with her, and she was more sure of herself. It was a good thing he was at a school that eliminated distractions, or he'd be a goner here.
In a quiet voice, he asked, "So, have you cried?"
She looked at him strangely. "Cried?"
"Over your recent break up. Jess is gone. Dean is engaged."
Exasperated, she said, "Oh my god, you sound like my mom. Just because I'm―"
Tristan cut her off by firmly pressing his lips against hers. She stiffened at first, but then softened into the kiss. He put his hand on her lower back to pull her closer to him and she put her hand on his shoulder..
She looked dazed when he pulled away, and she pressed her fingers to her lips.
It wasn't a make-out session, but more than their tearful kiss at the piano. "I just didn't want you to run away crying when I did that."
"Oh."
He straightened and let her go. "Goodnight, Rory."
He was already headed back to the car when he heard her meekly say, "Goodnight."
