June 20, 2008
Chris and Matt arrive early, but Jess has already waited for a while at the station, had time for coffee and a cigarette. They come with two big suitcases full of books set to be unloaded in a number of independent bookstores. Jess helps get them off the bus. Chris sleepwalks off heading for a public bathroom as soon as they're set at the platform.
"What's up with him?"
"He's hung-over." Matt reaches for Jess's cigarette-pack. "Gimme."
Jess hands him one and puts a second in his own mouth, lighting them both. Matt takes a drag.
"So, are you coming today?"
"For a while, got a meeting after lunch."
"Lucky, or sneaky."
"I like to think I'm both."
Matt laughs.
"But we're still on for tonight, right? I'm expecting your lady, too."
"We're all coming, Izzy too, and Mark's got some place lined up for us."
"And the famous Rory Gilmore?"
"Attending." He lowers his cigarette, turns to Matt and gives him a good stare. "But man, don't make a big deal out of it."
"I would never!" Matt's tone is that of someone who would definitely.
There's a pause while he takes another drag. Then he speaks again.
"I would just like to remind you what it was like the last time-"
"Jeez, Matt!"
"I worry, sue me!"
Jess opens his mouth to argue, but Chris returns, no point in letting the subject spread.
"So, which route are you guys taking?" He asks instead.
"We should split up." Matt starts. "I'll do Nomad's Land, Valentine's and Bookaroos-"
Chris interrupts, suddenly wide awake.
"No way man! I'm taking Bookaroos! We've talked about this."
"It makes no sense for you to be rooting around Tribeca, Bleecker Street's all your contacts." Matt smiles.
He's calm, in control, unlike Chris, who's clearly grasping for words.
"You're the worst!" He finally spits.
"Listen, I'll let you take Bookaroo, but you're on the hook for two more stores in that area, and that means pitching too, not just delivering."
Chris glares at Matt for several seconds before giving up.
"Fine!" He grabs a suitcase and starts dragging it towards the exit.
"He has a crush on the clerk at Bookaroo, it makes him vulnerable." Matt snickers.
Jess shakes his head, puts out his cigarette and follows Chris, dragging the other suitcase.
They make their way to lower Manhattan and split up, but not before Matt has put extra books in Chris's suitcase. Jess joins Chris despite it being out of his way, he needs the help.
"You shouldn't let him jerk you around like that." Jess remarks.
Chris shakes his head.
"It's okay. I got too drunk yesterday, let him do all the planning."
Chris heads into their first stop, a small bookstore that's mainly taking in their poetry. It's a pretty stiff interaction with the clerk who's used to communicating with Matt, the real poetry nerd among the three. Jess goes to get take-away coffee and water for Chris, mostly as an excuse to get out. He meets up with Chris back on the sidewalk. Chris empties his cup and opens the water bottle.
"Thanks." He drinks half of it in just a few gulps then keeps walking. "I do miss you in Philly though. I wish Nicks would consider gracing the city with her presence more permanently so we could have you back."
It's not in Jess's nature to tell him that the feeling is mutual, luckily Chris doesn't mind either way, it's one of his best qualities.
"So, I hear you got a new, esteemed roommate."
"Oh good." Jess mutters.
Chris ignores his tone.
"How's that going?"
"It's fine. It's not a big deal. I shouldn't have told Matt to begin with."
Chris raises an eyebrow. Jess sighs. He usually prefers confiding in Chris anyway due to his vast amounts of chill.
"I guess I panicked." He starts. "I'm not exactly well-versed in relationship etiquette."
"So, what did you wind up telling Nicks?"
"The basics, we were a thing, how I- what I felt, that it's done with."
Chris stops, and lets go of the suitcase. He clenches and unclenches his fists, straightens his back, twists his torso, stretches his arms, all the while looking at Jess.
"Just, mind yourself, man. Be careful."
Jess gives him a look.
"What do you think I'd do?"
"I meant be careful with yourself."
Jess looks down, extracting and lighting another cigarette.
"Not sure I'm built for that." He mumbles.
"Well, work on it." Chris sighs. "You know I don't do relationships, but my parents split up when I was ten, I know about that stuff." He stands up straight again, readying himself to keep dragging the suitcase down the sidewalk.
Jess follows. Chris is not a busybody like Matt, and he's more into nuance. Jess decides to ask.
"So, got any advice, guru?"
Chris laughs, shoves him, but leans in. Maybe he actually has something useful to say.
"Here's the truth everybody knows but keeps secret: you're with who you're with now because it didn't work out with who you used to be with."
Maybe not.
"Duh."
"No seriously, think about that." He turns his back and keeps on walking while talking. "You choose to focus on the new thing, but the old thing, it still…" He pauses. "My dad never got over my mom, that's for sure, didn't stop him from getting hitched with my stepmom."
Liz's new boyfriends were always the best she ever had, no matter their actual quality, so Jess's experience isn't like Chris's, Luke might be a closer comparison but he doesn't feel like thinking about that.
"That sucks." Jess mumbles.
Chris shrugs.
"It is what it is."
There it is. Why would he say such a thing? What does it even mean? It's a Hail Mary. A tether to keep from losing what he couldn't bear to lose, at any cost.
They walk on in silence, drop off books at two other places before finally arriving at Bookaroos. Chris stops right before it and fixes his hair in the window reflection of the shop. Jess chuckles but helps him get the stuff inside and does the heavy lifting so Chris can do the flirting with the clerk who, unfortunately, seems immune to his charm.
June 20, 2008
She's been busy since she started at Pulse, working long hours and crashing as soon as she's gotten home. Pulse is a glorified city-guide, add-run, and they do stories for money, interview people opening clubs and restaurants, she finds herself mainly hunting advertisers, both as an administrator and a journalist, but she has too much else to think about to dwell on that. She spent last weekend in Hartford overseeing her grandfather's reinstallment into the house, and worked even harder after that. She hasn't had time to get to know any of the people she lives with since the night she moved in, wanting to and not wanting to at the same time. So, she was genuinely happy to get asked to join the party by Jess, it'll be easier in his company.
She gets home and jumps in the shower, changes clothes and does her make-up, before joining her flatmates in the kitchen. They cook together under Mark's direction, when he tries to recreate one of his restaurant's best pasta dishes. The mission fails and he spends the meal grumbling under his breath over the chef that supplied him with misinformation. Rory enjoys the food anyhow and the company, listening to Izzy and Paula swapping war stories from when they last went out. Once they're done eating Mark and Izzy rinses off the dishes - it's their week - and the rest finishes off a bottle of wine. Nicks and Paula argue over the music. Nicks sits, her back to the wall and her bare feet in Jess's lap. His hand rests on her wrist, thumb moving slightly. Rory blinks as she realizes he's looking at her, and determinedly redirects her gaze to Paula, who's arguing in favor of Alicia Keys. She weighs in with her vote and suggests a song that ends the debate between the girls.
The phone to the front door rings and Jess hurries to open and returns with two familiar guys. Everybody gets up and reaches for handshakes and hugs.
"Rory, you remember Matt, Chris?"
"Yes, from Truncheon."
"Right, you were there that one time." Chris says and tilts his head at her.
If he knows anything about her other than her being there that one time he doesn't signal it and Rory nods and smiles, grateful, but blushes at the mere thought, seriously, when is that going to stop? Matt makes an attempt to get to her, some determination on his face, but Jess interrupts it.
"You better change, you look like you slept under a bridge."
Nicks laughs, and Matt glares at Jess.
"Thanks."
"You'd do the same for me."
Matt does as he's told, though, jumps in the shower while Chris shovels leftovers into his mouth standing up.
They walk together, the evening's pretty, warm. The place is a biergarten type of pub with long tables and uncomfortable seating. Mark may have picked it, but with some, obvious reluctance; It's chosen because of its size, not its style or clientele, he makes a point of pointing out. They get a table and sit down; Paula, Nicks and Izzy on one side and Rory on the other next to Mark. She moves in to make room for Jess and he smiles at her. Matt and Chris have ordered pitchers and come to sit down too. She scooches in to make more room and Matt squeezes in between her and Mark, while Chris resolutely orders Jess to get glasses for them and takes his place as soon as he's gotten up.
"We've been dying to dig for information on Stars Hollow-" Chris explains.
"And teenage Jess." Matt fills in.
Rory laughs, oddly relieved.
"You know Jess since before?" Izzy asks.
Before Rory has a chance to speak Nicks answers.
"They used to go out."
She smiles calmly and Rory can't help a thought that she's eager, pleased to be able to show off her knowledge and serene acceptance of this whole situation, before telling herself that she's monumentally unfair, that she's lucky that it's Nicks and not some other version of Shane.
She looks around, but it's mostly Mark and Izzy that seems surprised by this revelation, Paula is obviously let in on it already and she makes a mental note on liking her, she should be able to extend the same courtesy to Nicks.
Within moments questions, guesses really, is hurtled at her, some from genuine curiosity and some just for show, and she's not given time to respond to any of them.
"So you lived in the same place?"
"And you knew him when you were kids-?"
"What was he like-?"
"Don't tell me; Total brat, right?"
"Bad boy."
"Humongous nerd, obviously-"
"Ten bucks says he wore a beret at some point."
"Leave her alone."
Jess returns with glasses, setting them down in front of Matt and Chris with distinct bangs. He takes a seat next to Nicks. Everyone speaks over one another. Rory clears her throat.
"I'll be happy to tell you everything about Stars Hollow."
Everyone at the table leans in, while Jess frowns at her. She smiles, and it's a little edge pushing through the light irritation she's feeling.
"Yeah, I could tell you about the mysterious markings appearing in front of the town store one morning-" She speaks dramatically, gesturing like a fortune teller. "-or the time someone ruined the winning entry to the snowman competition- the disappearance of my neighbor's garden gnome-" Scattered laughs travels around the table and a few low whispers, she keeps going. "-or, I could tell you about our annual bid-on-a-basket-fundraiser, and the time yours truly participated and sold her basket for- I kid you not- ninety dollars to one enthusiastic bidder that you all know as-"
"But why would you?" Jess interrupts with a drawl. "Sure, you managing to sell left-overs for that amount of money says a world about your marketing skills but apart from that, the whole place is very Smallmindsville, USA."
"And you of all people lived there!" Chris fills in. "I don't think it's strange to be a bit curious about that."
"Hey, have you read Sharp Objects?" Jess tries, aiming the question at Rory.
She laughs coldly.
"You can't distract me with books-"
"Why not? It's always worked before."
"Stars Hollow is not that bad, and you know it."
"How about A Confederacy of Dunces?"
"Whatever this is it's boring me." Mark interjects.
"Fine." Matt says. "But don't think you're off the hook." He gestures at Rory and Jess, before turning to Nicks. "Speaking of books, what are you working on now, Nicks?"
She smiles.
"A few pieces on collectives, I'm going all over town, talking to people, taking pictures, trying to tie it into something about family." She winks at Rory.
The conversation goes on as Mark starts talking about other places he's lived. Nicks leans against Jess's shoulder, and Rory feels like she's twisted something, and fidgets in her seat. Chris and Izzy return the empty pitchers and get new ones. The conversation goes on, covering a bunch of experiences of shared homes, collectives, summer camps, dorm rooms before turning to roommates and live-in-partners. The stories get more frivolous, voices louder, time moves quicker.
Matt and Chris insist on their places and she can't decide if she's flattered or annoyed, they keep her plenty busy with party tricks and anecdotes on writers and their respective histories- Matt went to Penn State and disappointed his family by going into publishing while Chris is the pride and joy of his family for making something of his teenage zines on the bands he liked- But she was really hoping to get to know her flatmates a bit more, and the guys don't really ask her anything, like they're not interested or, like they already know all there is to know. All Jess could tell them anyway.
She gets angry as the realization dawns on her. She glares at Jess occasionally but Nicks and the girls keep him busy on his row, lively debating politics with Mark chiming in when he finds them particularly annoying. Why did he even invite her to come?
"So, you're exes. How come?"
Izzy winds up being the one asking, and Rory is surprised after a good hour of anonymity. She blinks at Izzy who leans across the table, her cheeks rosy, clearly drunk enough to express curiosity, but smiling, looking between Jess and Rory. He finally looks at her. She cocks her head to the side, and meets his eyes.
"I don't know. Was it because you kept things from me, or because I couldn't bring myself to trust you? Or was that like a chicken and egg situation?" She starts, rallying.
Like a good soldier he chuckles and rolls with it.
"Probably. Or, you know it could be that everything had to be family-approved with you, or the fact that I couldn't get along with one of them."
"Good point. Then again you also failed to take me to prom-"
"-not to mention graduate high school-"
"-while school was my only true love-"
"-and I was sick of being the other woman."
"True." She laughs, and can't figure out how she's both angry with him and hungry for more of their interaction, maybe because they're so good at it, after all. "But then again you did leave without a word."
"Well, I'm sure Dean had an oversized shoulder for you to cry on."
Too good at it. Too close. Her smile freezes on her face and his is cold to match. Had they been alone this would have turned into... something other than just banter. But they're not, so she redirects the conversation, sort of.
"Hey, have you read You Suck (A Love Story)?"
"Wow, I didn't peg you as a Vampire chick, you read Twilight too?"
"Hey, if it's anything like Let the Right One In, I think I'll enjoy it."
"That reminds me; I still got that copy of Please Kill Me."
They stare at each other for a second before Paula breaks in.
"Wow. You seem like a terrible match, why were you even together?"
Rory turns to her sharply. Swallows. It's hardly the first time someone has asked her that, only this time she doesn't feel like retreating, she's had a few beers and has some fight in her. She looks back to Jess and his eyes are already on her, resolutely, like he could answer that question in a second, she smiles a little.
"I guess, I was kind of-" She takes a breath. "-lonely in a way, before I met Jess. I had a lot of people in my life, who loved me, but no one who really… got me. And, I don't know, maybe that's too much to ask, but- I felt like you covered a lot of ground, like I was less alone."
He smiles back, but not in a cheery way.
"It ended badly," she goes on, "but we made sense in a lot of ways. We had a lot in common."
"Books." He offers.
"Music."
"Only child."
"Absent dad."
"Crazy mom-" He says, smile widening.
She gasps in faux-outrage.
"And have." He adds. "We have that in common."
His smile is warm again, she has to return it. There's silence between songs and she notices the pause in the conversations with the others as well. She looks at Nicks who's gaze darts between her and Jess, slight smile on her lips. It's interrupted by Matt getting up.
"Another round?" He asks.
"Not for me." Nicks says. "Early morning."
"I'll walk you to the subway." Jess gets up and helps Nicks out of her seat. "I'll be back in a while." He adds.
Paula decides to go as well. They say their goodbyes and the three of them disappear. By then, conversations have picked up again. Matt collect drink orders.
"How 'bout you?" Matt turns to Rory. "Another beer?"
"Sure."
"Come help me carry."
The two of them head to the bar. As the bartender works, Matt leans on the counter, looking at her, he opens his mouth and closes it again, chuckles and shakes his head. She ignores it as long as she can. Then:
"What?"
He taps his fingers on the counter and leans back towards her.
"I can't believe you guys are living together."
There's that hint again, that there's nothing she could tell him about her and Jess.
"Is there a reason you waited until Jess was gone before bringing this up?" She keeps her tone tight.
He goes on as if he didn't hear her.
"I'd go nuts if I had to live with… any ex of mine."
"I think that says a lot more about you than me and Jess."
He snorts.
"You're not at all bothered by this arrangement?"
"Nope."
"Really?"
"We're friends."
"Friends?"
"Yeah!" She almost stomps her foot. "It's the adult thing to do."
"Adult schmadult."
He gestures vividly, clearly drunk. She can't help laughing. He leans closer, smiling winningly.
"Nevermind, let's drop the subject," he shoves her shoulder with his softly, "you wanna get out of here? Go for coffee?"
She stops smiling.
"I don't think that's a good idea-"
"Why?"
"Well, because-" She starts, slightly panicked.
He widens the space between them again, and looks at her triumphantly, it was all an act.
"See, you're a lot smarter than you pretend to be."
She laughs, coldly this time.
"Maybe you're just not my type."
"Oh, I'm definitely not, despite this serviceminded, one size fits all schtick you've got going. Just, try to tread lightly, would you?"
She tilts her head, not giving him anything.
"What do you mean?"
"Come on. Jess doesn't seem completely un-bothered by this. He still thinks you're all that."
She straightens, readies herself to just walk away, he can carry his own damn beer.
"He's great at multitasking then, seeing as he's with Nicks."
Matt shrugs.
"He wasn't okay after you last left, just so you know."
She's angry and ashamed, can't keep it out. The night at Truncheon comes back to her; his smile when she showed up, his eagerness to get close, how good it felt to let him, how she almost forgot about her broken heart, her broken ego - his face, his words. He didn't deserve that, even if she'd convinced herself he kind of did, that he wouldn't mind either way, because that's the kind of guy he was, the kind of guy everybody told her he was, even himself. But he isn't that guy, maybe he never was.
Her throat stings. It must show too because Matt's expression softens, he looks concerned, and maybe even a little scared, looks toward the exit. She's got him. He doesn't know her, not at all. She sticks her chin out and nails him with a glare.
"Well, I wasn't okay after he left either." She says firmly.
Matt blinks, and shoots her a small apologetic smile before returning his attention to the bartender. She lets him pay and starts carrying drinks back to the table. Her honesty feels good. Her anger too, even if it partly is with herself.
Chris has moved next to Izzy and the two of them are in deep conversation with each other. Mark is squinting at his phone while texting. She sits down next to him anyway and ignores Matt when he gets back. He takes a seat next to Chris and Izzy instead but their talking is distinctly for the two of them. He looks a bit lost for a moment before Mark takes pity on him and strikes up a conversation.
Rory misses Yale all of a sudden, badly, and comes to think of a poetry reading she went to on campus with Logan a couple of years ago. She wanted to go, he wanted to be with her, but wound up hating it, calling it absolute gibberish, she disagreed but could not argue her case, as it usually is with poetry. Now she recalls a specific line that stuck with her; For a while I thought I was the princess. But I'm out here, breathing fire, and getting stabbed to death. So, I'm the dragon. Big deal.
Yeah, big deal. Matt and Chris, or at least the former, wasn't being friendly, he was keeping an eye on her. She's just about to excuse herself and call it a night when Jess returns.
The relief when she sees him is a thing of beauty. They're back in each other's lives and she's less alone, that's all she feels right then and there. You still get to be the hero. She smiles broadly at him, and he halts slightly and returns it. He sits down next to her and it feels safe to have him back.
"You okay?" He asks.
She nods. He frowns.
"Rory?"
She manages a smile.
"I am now."
He doesn't smile back, but turns and glares at Matt who excuses himself to use the bathroom. Jess is silent beside her. Her heart is pounding, her conversation with Matt still in her chest.
"Jess-"
He looks at her.
"Are you-?" She starts.
"We're good. You and me." He interrupts. "Okay? No matter what Matt might've told you, he just needs to be up in everyone's business."
She swallows.
"Okay."
"We are good aren't we?"
It's more complicated than that, but it doesn't seem like it when she looks at him, she's just happy to see him.
"Yeah." She smiles again. "How could we not be when we're starting our own book club?"
He laughs.
"Good. I'll get another beer, and when I get back we can argue and never agree on which books to read."
He gets up and executes the first part of his plan, but when he gets back the collective conversation has moved on to other things, like how screwed they would be if Cloverfield really did happen, landing on them being fine.
"Monsters always go for the hallmarks."
"Would they really though?"
"Oh, you bet! Probably thinks of 'em as rivals or something."
"Same principle as lightning, just stay away from tall buildings-"
"Or don't actually be the tallest point-"
"Now, other catastrophes on the other hand-"
"Yeah, if a tsunami comes you'd wanna be in Manhattan."
"Anywhere with high hills-"
"Or tall trees-"
"On rooftops."
This goes on for a while. She yawns. Jess pushes her side slightly.
"Tired?"
"No. Yes. Hungry."
"Oh-oh. We better take care of that."
He stands and pulls her up by the hand.
"We're going, you coming?"
Chris and Izzy get up, Mark stays seated.
"My guy's picking me up, we're staying at his place."
Jess looks at Matt, who still can't quite face him.
"I'll wait with Mark. Take a cab back." He mumbles.
"You can have my key, sleep in my room if you like." Mark offers.
"I think I've had enough for tonight anyway." Matt says.
Jess nods.
"Yeah."
They walk. Chris and Izzy run around like high teenagers taking turns singing and carrying each other. Jess and Rory walk slowly behind them, smiling at their shenanigans.
"Is it safe to let them run free like this? What if there's a car?"
"Don't worry, you let Chris loose after five beers he'll track and hone in on the nearest churro stand."
"Oh yes!" She squeals.
"It may look chaotic, but it's just part of the process."
"Can you change his settings? I was thinking donuts too."
He laughs, it's nice, so she carries on.
"And, also, I've noticed there's a severe lack of pop-tarts at the apartment."
"Really?"
She nods.
"It's really keeping it from reaching the level of pop-tartment."
He shoves her, and it's kind of nice too.
"Don't worry, there's a bakery a few blocks down."
"Is there a grocery store as well?"
He smiles.
"And a coffee place."
"You're the best."
They get a copious amount of baked goods, and eat a good deal of the churros on the sidewalk, before continuing back to the apartment. Jess, Izzy and Chris all smoke a cigarette each before heading up. Jess and Rory set up the box of donuts in the kitchen. He goes for CD's and she lights the two candles at the table. He comes back into the kitchen with a bit of a hesitant smile.
"What?" She says.
"They're not coming."
"Why?"
He raises his eyebrows.
"Oh." She lets out a silent laugh. "More for us then."
"Yup." He sits down.
She thinks about the night she moved in.
"I wonder how sound travels from Izzy's room to here." She mumbles.
"We don't have to find out."
He blows out the candles and grabs the box. She follows him out of the kitchen, to her door. She unlocks the room and tries to ignore any and all sound from Izzy's room. He walks into her room and opens the window, climbing out onto the fire escape.
"Grab your blanket." He says.
She obeys and hands it to him. He spreads it out on the grating and she climbs out and sits down. He closes the window and sits down next to her. They lean on the wall and listen to the noise from the streets that effectively drowns out any residue from the apartment.
"So, why didn't anyone ask you what you're working on?" She asks after a few minutes.
He chooses that moment to pick a donut out of the box.
"Cause I'm not writing right now."
He takes a bite and chews it slowly, eyes on his coffee. She forces herself to stay quiet, this habit of incessant speaking tends to help people hide, she's discovered. He looks at her and smiles slightly.
"I haven't written anything since The Subsect, nothing big anyway."
"How come?"
"I don't know why. I haven't felt like it, I've been busy, learning the trade, the relationship stuff, landing at this GED-decision."
She can't very well object to that. He smiles and speaks, his voice humorous.
"Maybe I'm a one quasi-hit-wonder, or maybe I don't have anything more to say."
"I find that hard to believe." She says earnestly.
"No, but listen," he's still smiling, but less mannered now, "when I wrote it I needed to, it was all I had." He pauses. "But if I had to choose between being there, like that, and being here, I choose here, no question."
"But-"
"This is the only stable thing I've ever had, that I've ever been able to sustain."
He looks at her, sincere. She doesn't exactly know what he means, Truncheon or Nicks.
"Okay. Sorry."
There's a pause, in the silence between traces of laughter from Izzy's room can be heard.
"Won't Izzy and Chris- Chrizzy- mean trouble, for the stability of things?" Rory asks.
He smiles at her.
"I appreciate your concern, but I think they're a good match. None of them really date in the traditional sense, they just sleep with people they like, it'll be fine. It might even be good news."
"So it's politics." She shakes her head with a smile. "You sly dog."
He shrugs.
"Public relations."
"Private relations."
He chuckles. She stays quiet until she can't anymore.
"I just hope you don't fall into someone else's mould."
"You're so full of it, miss Living-up-to-everyone's-expectations." His response is immediate, like he knew she wasn't done.
"Well, that's not for you." She protests.
"Maybe I want some of that for me."
"It's not all it's cracked up to be, that's all."
"Neither is my life."
She stares at him, moments pass, he shakes his head.
"Fine, you want me to write, I'll write."
He gets up and climbs the shaky staircase.
"Jess-" She starts, hesitantly.
"No. Come on. Let's make it into an extreme sport."
"Stop messing around!" She looks after him, but he's already reached the roof.
"Get your notebook."
She curses, but obeys, and climbs the staircase without looking down. The whole contraption seems to shriek from her movements. She climbs it slowly, looks up but sees nothing.
"Jess!"
His head appears from the top of the roof.
"Come on."
She reaches the top. The roof is an empty space, with just a door to the interior staircase that looks like it hasn't been used in years, placed in the middle. At least the light above it still works.
"I don't know about this." She whines.
"Just come here."
She rounds the corner of the door and there's a bench on the other side. He's already sitting there, emptying his coffee cup. She hands him her notebook and a pen.
"You'll pay for this mister." She growls. "I'm putting you on a deadline. You got three minutes to write some spectacular observation about what you see… On dark rooftops."
He smiles and takes the book from her, tapping the pen against his chin a few times before he starts scribbling. She looks out across the city while he writes, stretches in her seat, unwilling to get up. She reluctantly admits to herself it is pretty. She leans her head back and watches the moths flutter around the light. He swears lowly, whispers a little to himself, she turns her head and watches his lips move. She checks her watch.
"Time's up."
He scribbles more frantically.
"Pen down, mr. Mariano."
She snatches the book from his hands, takes a few steps so he can't reach her, and reads to herself.
People are always going on about the view. I don't know, you can't do a thing with it but watch. It drives me a bit crazy seeing every place I could be if only I was grounded enough to walk. I think I'd even prefer being underground 'cause at least then I could dig. But I envy the birds.
She blinks at it and looks at him. He's smiling like he's pulling her chain. She smiles back, slowly and increasingly wicked.
"This is poetry."
He snorts.
"You're a poet." She insists.
"Take that back."
She looks at the paper again.
"God, I hate that you compare yourself to that drag Hemingway."
"He wrote poetry too."
"About farts." She points at him. "And you admit it."
He shrugs.
"Well, what is poetry, really? All words are pretty."
She sighs and turns back to the view, backs up and sits down next to him again. They sit like that for a few minutes before climbing back down to her window. It's worse going down and she swears she'll never do it in the dark while under the influence again. They remain outside her window for a minute.
"Think it's safe to go back inside?" She asks.
"Probably." He answers.
She stands still, thinking of getting inside but finding she doesn't really want to, that'll mean the night is over, coming down. He stands silently too, at first, next to her, but then he speaks, and the words are quick, low.
"Why aren't you dating anyone?"
She stiffens, smiles a bit, and glances at him; He's staring intently at the glass.
"What do you mean why?"
"You haven't been single the whole time I've known you."
She stops smiling.
"I have, you just weren't there for it."
There's silence. She exhales quickly.
"You want me to date?"
"I-"
She can't stop her next words.
"Think it'd make it easier if I did?"
"No!" He answers sharply.
She stands as still as she can, afraid to move. He shakes his head.
"Maybe." He admits.
She can't make sense of this, she's drifting, so, she clings to what she does know.
"Well, I don't wanna date anyone. Not just anyone."
He sighs.
"What are we even talking about, Jess?"
He looks at her, finally.
"I don't know. I'm drunk." He mumbles.
She forces a smile.
"Me too." She grabs the last donut from the box, and opens the window climbing inside.
"You know, those are just gonna make you feel worse in the morning." He says while following her inside.
"Maybe that's true for puny humans."
She takes a big bite, feeling the sugar stick to her cheek. He chuckles and shuts the window behind him. She wipes the grains off her face with the back of her hand and looks at him.
"Adam asked me out."
He stops smiling. She licks her lips and stares at their reflection in the window - his back, her pale face - producing another smile, a shake of the head.
"But I'm not gonna go. I think it'd be weird."
She doesn't dare to look at him, doesn't know why she told him, and feels, messy, like any reaction he might produce would upset her for no clear reason. She's full, from sugar and bread and Matt's stupid words, she realizes, drunk, tired.
"I should go to bed." She mumbles, reaches for the box to put the rest of her donut back, and he grasps her wrist.
"I got it." He says.
His thumb moves over the surface of her skin, before he releases her and grabs the donut instead.
"Okay, thanks." She manages, looks at him without meaning to.
He's looking at her and she gets the sense she could let him keep doing it and they'd be here for hours. She presses her lips together in a smile.
"Goodnight." She turns and opens the door to the corridor without waiting for a reply.
Notes: Paraphrased poetry by Richard Siken "Litany in which certain things are crossed out"