There were only a few students left milling around the halls as Rory made her way out of the newspaper office Monday afternoon. Paris had kept them even later than usual, trying to make up for lost time due to spring break as well as Paris' emotional break down the week before. Apparently, Paris had recovered from the rejection relatively unscathed, and gone back to being her usual, bossy, patronizing self.

"So, Gilmore," she heard the sharp voice of her friend break through the quiet din of the hallway. She turned around to see Paris locking up the Franklin office. A moment later, the blonde girl had caught up with her. "You respond to that big, fat envelope from Harvard yet?"

"Umm, not exactly," Rory replied nervously, playing with the loose, nylon strap of her backpack. A lot had happened over spring break that Paris didn't know about and considering everything that had happened between the two girls, in some warped way, Rory felt Paris deserved to know. On the other hand, Paris didn't exactly keep her opinions to herself and Rory was concerned about the reaction her news would get.

"Well what the hell are you waiting for?" Paris clipped. "If you don't send in your paperwork soon, they're going to give your spot to one of those remedial waitlist kids." Rory refrained from pointing out that Paris hadn't even made a spot as one of those 'remedial waitlist kids.'

"Actually," Rory paused apprehensively, "I kind of did send in my paperwork. I just…didn't send it to Harvard." There, the first part of the news was out.

Paris stopped walking and stared at her friend. "Where did you send it to?" she asked suspiciously.

Rory took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Yale," she answered, "I sent it to Yale."

"Oh dear god, you're Felicity! First you follow the popular guy you've got the crush on to college; soon you're going to chop off all your hair!"

"It's not like that," Rory replied defensively. And it really wasn't. Sure, she had added Logan to the list, but in the end it hadn't even mattered. By the time Rory had gotten home from her trip, Lorelai had found the copies of the pro-con lists Rory had left behind and the answer had been clear, even to her. Yale was the winner by a long shot with the pros nearly doubling the cons. Rory had walked into her room Saturday, luggage in hand, only to see that her once crimson bulletin board was suddenly very blue. There was a Yale sweatshirt hanging below a cardboard cutout of her head and a stack of t-shirts declaring 'rory's going to yale!' neatly stacked on her bed. It was that moment that Rory knew for sure. It had all felt so right. It didn't even amaze Rory that Lorelai had figured it out first; although she was a little surprised her mother had so willingly embraced it. Rory was going to Yale. It couldn't have been more right.

"Well then, what is it like," Paris asked, rolling her eyes. She never pegged Rory Gilmore as the kind of girl to make her decisions based on a guy.

"Well, for starters, Logan's not just some guy I have a crush on…" Rory began. It had seemed like the perfect opportunity to break the rest of the news, but now she wasn't so sure. Still, she had to tell her some time. "He's my boyfriend."

Paris continued to stare, her jaw dropped noticeably at the news. It was no surprise to her, or anyone else who had seen Rory and Logan together, that they both had feelings for each other—as stupid as she thought Rory was for falling for a playboy like Huntzberger—but it was a surprise that he had agreed to commit to one girl, especially an innocent, High School, virgin like Rory.

Rory shrugged noncommittally. "Just call me Mrs. Beatty."

Paris got over her shock and quickly morphed back to her role as antagonist. "So just because you've been dating the guy for—what—one whole week, it's suddenly okay to make life choices based on him?

"No," Rory insisted, "I chose Yale because it was the right choice to make. It was all there in black and white on the pro-con lists. Even my Mom could see it and she hates Yale more than anyone."

"So this has nothing to do with Huntzberger?" Paris asked, completely unconvinced.

"Nothing, I swear."

"Good," Paris answered, resuming her strides towards the school's exit, "because I wouldn't trust that walking STD incubator as far as I could throw him—and there's a reason softball wasn't one of my extracurricular activities."

Rory gawked at the other girl. "But you're the one who told me I could—I believe your words were—'land the whale,'" Rory spluttered at Paris's objections to Logan. Hadn't she been the one that had talked her into her feelings about Logan that night before the speech? And now she was acting like Rory was an idiot for it.

"I said you could," Paris clarified, "not that you should. It's all good and well to fantasize about a guy like that falling head over heels for you, but do you really believe he's going to keep it in his pants for you?"

Rory took a few, deep breaths to calm herself down. Paris was wrong; she didn't know Logan at all. She didn't understand how sweet and caring and wonderful he could be. She didn't understand him at all. She wasn't going to let Paris get to her. She was happy and she wasn't going to let her friend's cynicism get her down.

"Logan's not like that," Rory defended as they made their way out into the late afternoon sunlight. "Sure he has a bit of a…torrid past, but that's the past. He's never lied to me. He's never given me a reason not to trust him. He's a good guy, Paris. If he says he can do this, he can do this," she finished adamantly. She looked up after her rant and any doubts Paris may have implanted into her head were suddenly erased. Logan was there, leaning casually against his red Ferrari, smirking in her direction. "See," Rory added triumphantly, "he can't even wait to see me." She smiled brightly.

"Yeah, here on his terms," Paris said, rolling her eyes, "but wait and see how he takes it when he finds out you're following him to Yale."

"I'm not following him to Yale," Rory sighed in frustration.

"Whatever," Paris dismissed, "I bet he won't be so happy when he feels you closing in on him. Besides, with you at Yale, it will make it a lot harder for him to sleep with all those New Haven sluts."

"You know what?" Rory was sick of listening to Paris' pessimism. Rory was happy with the way things were and she didn't want to let a petulant Paris rain on her parade. "Go be negative somewhere else." She turned to face Paris and started backing away slowly towards her boyfriend. "I'll see you tomorrow."

The air was warmer than it had been a week and a half ago before leaving for Monaco he noticed as he stood in the Chilton parking lot, leaning casually against his car. Rory wasn't expecting him, so it wasn't like she was supposed to meet him at a specific time, but Logan had definitely expected her to be out of school by now. He was starting to worry that she had left right after classes and he had missed her. It was Monday though, and he knew she had a Franklin meeting after school; there was no way she would have skipped out on one of those—Paris would have had her hide.

Finally, just as he was considering going inside to look for her, the front doors of the school opened and his girlfriend and the aforementioned editor of the paper stepped out. It looked like Paris was ranting about something, which was nothing new, but Rory was managing to hold her own—she always could in a debate. Finally the brunette he had been waiting for lifted her head and caught sight of him, smiling in his direction. A few more words were exchanged between the two girls before Rory started making her way towards him.

"Hey," she said happily when she finally reached him, "what are you doing here?" She leaned in to give him a quick peck on the lips in greeting, circling her arms around his waist.

"Can't a guy just want to see his girl?" he asked cheekily.

"But it's not Friday," she reminded him.

"Fridays are a group thing. You don't expect to just see me then?" he asked, feigning insult.

"I'm just saying it's a surprise. I'm not saying it's not a good one. Besides, now I don't have to wait forty-five minutes for the next bus since Paris held us overtime and made me miss the last one."

"You're using me, Gilmore," he continued playing around, "toying with my emotions. You could hurt a guy's feelings this way."

She pulled her arms back and shrugged her shoulders. "You'll get over it," she told him matter-of-factly, opening the car door and sliding in. He stood there for a few moments, just taking in the sight of her. It had only been a couple of days since he had last seen her, but already he'd been missing her like crazy. He was turning into one of those lovesick puppy kind of guys he had never wanted to be, but somehow he didn't seem to mind; he was happy. Of course, he tried not to think too far into the future; he knew it wouldn't be long before she found out and when that happened, he wasn't sure they would be able to withstand the blow. But that wasn't now—now they were together and they were happy. He couldn't worry about what would happen when he told her; he'd worry about that when the time came.

"Come on, Huntzberger, a girl hasn't got all day." The sound of her voice broke him out of his reverie.

"I'm coming, I'm coming, hold your horses," he scolded, walking around to the other side and getting into the driver's seat.

Rory chuckled slightly, shaking her head in amusement. Logan could always bring a smile to her face. This is what Paris didn't get—the way he looked at her, the way he smiled at her, how easily their banter flowed, how comfortable he made her feel. That had to mean something, right? Logan wouldn't cheat on her; he'd given her his word. She never had any reason not to believe what he said. Logan cared about her; he'd be thrilled when he found out she was going to Yale. She couldn't wait to give him the news. She'd show Paris just how wrong she was.

"I've got a surprise for you," she whispered huskily in his ear as he buckled his seat belt and turned the key in the ignition. She heard the engine scratch and then stall as Logan's hand slipped upon feeling her breath against his skin.

"Jeez, woman," he scolded, trying to even out his breathing, "hasn't anyone ever told you not to be so sexy when a guy is trying to operate an expensive piece of equipment?"

She chuckled slightly, loving the effect she was having on him. "Sorry," she replied innocently with a bat of her eyelashes, "I promise I'll be a good girl for the rest of the ride."

And she was a good girl, although she was squirming in her seat the entire time. She'd never been so excited to get a boy back to her room. She wanted him to find out the same way she did. She wanted to see his face as he took in the new décor in her bedroom and realization finally took over. He would be just as excited as she was; she was sure of it.

Twenty minutes later, Logan turned his car into Rory's driveway and turned off the car. "So do I get my surprise now?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye.

"It's in my room," she replied in excitement, practically bouncing up and down as she unbuckled her seatbelt.

"Your room?" he smirked, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

"Get your mind out of the gutter," she insisted.

"Hey, you're the one inviting me back to your room so you can have your way with me," he teased, coming around the car to open her door for her.

"I already have my way with you," she smirked as she stood up, "I've got you wrapped around my little pinky."

"Are you calling me whipped?" he asked in mock outrage as he reached into the back of the car to get her bag for her.

"Yes."

"Fair enough," he shrugged, throwing the backpack over one shoulder and placing his free hand on the small of her back to follow her into the house.

"Close your eyes," she instructed once they reached the foyer.

"Kinky," he teased.

"Shush and do as you're told," she chastised.

"Yes, ma'am," he saluted, and then he promptly did as he was instructed and closed his eyes. Rory took his hand and led him back through the kitchen to her bedroom. She opened the door and tugged him in, positioning him so he would have a panoramic view of her newly decorated room.

"Okay…..now," she directed.

Logan opened his eyes and took in the site before him. There was less Yale paraphernalia at the Yale Bowl during the Harvard-Yale game than there was in her room. He felt the color drain out of his face.

"Surprise," she sang out.

"Umm, wow, it's…uh…blue," he stuttered.

"Ooh, and here, this is for you," she grabbed one of the t-shirts off her counter and held it in front of her so he could clearly read the words, "rory's going to yale!" If there had been any doubt of what this meant up until that point, it was gone.

"You're not smiling," she noted, cocking her head to the side to examine him. "Why aren't you smiling?" Oh god Rory's internal freak out was beginning. Had Paris been right after all? He didn't want her at Yale?

"No, no, I'm smiling," he insisted, plastering on a horrible fake smile. "See?" he pointed to his face.

"Aren't you excited?" she asked worry laced in her voice, trying to hold back the tears that she felt forming behind her eyes.

"Of course I am…" She looked at him dubiously. "I swear. It's just…" Crap! Now he was going to have to tell her. He was hoping to put this off at least a little bit before he had to come clean. He knew she wouldn't take it well, although he had a feeling that it was going to be even worse now than it would have if she had chosen Harvard. At least then it wouldn't be all his fault. "You're not doing this because of me, are you?" If she made a decision like this based on him he would never forgive himself, especially when she didn't have all of the facts.

"What? No! Why does everyone keep saying that?"

"I saw your list on the plane, Rory. I know you put my name on it."

"Fine," she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest indignantly, "so I considered the fact that my boyfriend would be at the same school as me, alright?" she admitted. "But it wasn't the reason I made this decision. Sure, I liked the idea of being near you, and I thought you'd like it too, but apparently I was wrong. Apparently Paris was right. I can't believe this. You want me far away so you can fool around behind m back, oh god." She sunk down onto her bed as she finished her rant, holding her head in her hands and trying desperately to keep it together. Paris couldn't be right; that would be horrible.

"What? Rory, what the hell are you talking about? You can't be serious? We've been together less than a week and you're already accusing me of cheating? Real nice, it's good to see how much faith you've got in me."

"Well, what the Hell am I supposed to think?" she asked, whipping her head up and wiping away some stray tears. "Why else wouldn't you want me at Yale?"

Logan took a few deep breaths to try and calm himself down. He knew he was mostly in the wrong here for hiding things from her, but for her to accuse him of wanting to sleep around after everything he had said to her the other night was ludicrous. He tried to tell himself that she didn't really mean it; she was just upset over his reaction—or lack thereof—to her news. He had to admit that it must have looked odd to her. It was time to tell her the truth, although he wasn't really sure that was going to make her any less upset.

"It's not that I don't want you at Yale," he insisted, kneeling down next to her bed and taking her hands into his so she couldn't hide her face anymore. She turned her face away. "Rory…" Nothing. "Ace," he tried again. "Please, just hear me out," he pleaded. She let out a sigh and turned back towards him slightly, but still didn't meet his eye. He took this opportunity to go on. "You were just always so insistent about going to Harvard. I thought that was what you wanted. Then we get together and suddenly all your plans are changed and you're going to Yale? I just don't want you making this decision for the wrong reasons. It's too important. I need to make sure that you going to Yale has nothing to do with me because…" he took a deep breath; it was now or never, and never wasn't really an option, "because I won't be there next year."

Her eyes quickly shot up to meet his. "What?" she asked, completely shocked by this revelation. She tore her hand away from his as though he had burned her.

Logan took another deep breath, taking her hand in his once again. "You have to understand, Ace," he tried. "These plans were made months ago…long before there was anything happening with us. The guys and I…we…we decided to take a year off from school. We're going to take the yacht and sail around the world…see things."

"The guys?" she croaked out between soft sobs.

"And Steph," he admitted. All of them, she was going to go to Yale and be all alone. It was true that she would have made this decision regardless of them being there, but they were there, or at least she had thought they would be. She had been excited to know that she would share her college experience with her friends. Technically, their not being there didn't change anything, but that didn't stop it from hurting like hell. She'd been counting on them…on him.

"This is crazy," she spat out, standing up and moving away from him. She couldn't stand him holding her hand and looking at her with those pitiful eyes, as though he was the victim here. He wasn't the victim, she was. She had let her reservations about being with him go, and had opened herself up to him. She had let her guard down and look where it got her? He was leaving her. Was this some kind of sick joke? To go through all of that to get her when he knew all the while he was going to leave?

"Rory." He stood up to follow her and tried to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. She brushed him off.

"I can't do this," she said, turning around calmly. Her voice was suddenly very even and the tears had seemed to stop.

"Do what?" he asked fearfully.

"This," she reiterated, motioning back and forth between them.

"Ace," he pleaded, "I know this sounds bad, but we can work this out."

"Work it out?" she sneered.

"Hey, I'm not the only one leaving here, you're going away too," he snapped. He hadn't meant to attack her like that, but he was freaking out. He didn't know what to say to make her see his side.

"For three months, Logan, I'm going to Europe for the summer with my Mom. And you knew about this long before we ever started dating. You're going to be bobbing around in the South Pacific for a year. It is so not the same."

"Can't we at least try?" he asked pathetically.

"And people think I'm the naïve one," she scoffed. "Logan, ninety percent of the time you won't even have access to a telephone. Your friends are going to be getting drunk and partying it up with the locals, and you're…what? Going to sit on the boat and pine after your girlfriend? Why am I not buying it?"

She was right, of course. He knew she was right. It wasn't like they were in a long-term relationship; they had just gotten together. How could a brand-new relationship survive a year apart? And it wasn't fair of him to ask her to stay with him until he left, that would only make it that much harder when the summer came. Still, he'd just finally gotten her and he wasn't ready to let her go. It wasn't fair. "Ace, please, don't do this," he begged. It was the only defense he had left.

"Do what?" she shrugged her shoulders indifferently, "Break up with you? News flash, Logan, I just did."

AN2: I know it seems bad...and so soon after I got them together, but trust me, please :) This issue needed to be dealt with and now that it's out there, I can resolve it. Anyhow, hope you enjoyed it. Don't forget to review ;)