July 10, 2008
It's late Thursday and Lane's bus arrives. Rory's taken the next day off to make it a weekend and is waiting on the platform, jumping lightly up and down when she sees her friend. Lane squeals in response and near jumps into her arms. Rory reaches for Lane's bag and starts walking towards the subway station.
"So, what is it like being a free woman?" She asks.
"You should know all about it!"
"Well, I wanna hear your description of it."
"The freedom is intoxicating!" Lane skips a bit while keeping up with her pace.
"Intoxicating, huh?"
"Yeah! Oh, and let's get it straight; not just in a good way, 'cause I keep getting the feeling that I've forgotten something, like my keys, or my twin sons." She jumps in front of Rory and walks backwards ahead of her. "So, I'm counting on some actual intoxication later. I need to self medicate."
"Speaking of which: I've prepared an itinerary-"
"No museums!"
"-tailor-made to suit your tastes-"
"Please don't mention Taylor!"
Rory keeps talking through her laughter.
"-meaning all the sub-pop-culture stops, culty coffee-shops and record stores you can handle."
"I love you, I love you, I love you."
"Hey, back at ya kiddo."
"And don't mention the kids either," Lane moans, "it's my first weekend on my own in two years."
"I won't mention it if you won't."
They walk side by side, silently for a few seconds.
"But you won't believe how much they've grown!"
Rory doesn't hesitate to gush, it's the right thing to do.
"I know! Thanks for the card!"
"Yeah, and that was like two whole months ago, they're even bigger now."
"Incredible. They'll be tryin' out for football before you know it."
"More like the marching band, and oh my god I'm so lame."
"You're not lame." Rory objects.
"Twenty-four and only talking about my kids."
Lane has a point of course. It wasn't supposed to go like this. The two of them were supposed to live the free life in cities similar to New York, Lane was supposed to have a musical career, it was all she ever talked about. It's more than a little spooky that your actual purpose, or path can just sneak up on you like that and knock you over the head with something completely different than what you'd imagined for yourself, that your truth, destiny can be out there, elsewhere, running wild, like some separate entity, that some otherness can know you better than you know yourself.
"Have you forgotten who you're talking to?" She mumbles.
"Apparently."
Lorelai and her entire family has always talked about the pregnancy as a derailment of a life, several actually, she's used to that. Maybe it scares her more that Lane, her friend, who's dreams she knew as well as her own, can walk cheerily next to her, life derailed, and still happy, rolling with the punches, full of new purpose. Cool with the chaos of the universe.
"All my best friends are young mothers." Rory adds, determined to shake her thoughts.
"And medical students. How is Paris?"
"Reassuringly the same."
Lane's tone goes softer.
"And how's your grandpa?"
"Better, but-"
But it's just temporary, is on the tip of her tongue, because it's what she's thinking.
"Can we add it to the no fly list?" She sighs.
"You bet. I think it's cool that this weekend will be as much for unplugging for you as it is for me."
"Yeah."
She takes an easy breath, lets the summer night sink in, the feeling of ease. They make their way down the stairs to the subway. Lane pries the bag from Rory's grip again.
"Speaking of which, how's the living situation?"
"Good." She answers immediately. "It's temporary, but- It's good." Temporary.
"Really? All smooth sailing?" Lane pushes.
"Yeah, I was surprised too but lately…"
"Lately...?"
"Lately I've just remembered," she has to force the words, "that me and Jess actually get on really well, always had, it's just the circumstances that's been..." She trails off.
They get tickets for Lane and Rory hooks her arm in hers to lead her through the crowd to their tracks.
"And now the circumstances are favorable?"
They really aren't. The circumstances are chaotic, awkward, so why does she feel so good? It's a rabbit hole she doesn't have time to fall into, so she just nods.
"Nicks is really nice."
"The girlfriend? And your landlord?"
"Yeah."
Lane laughs.
"What?"
Lane starts singing.
"Wait, who's that guy? Just hangin' at your pad. He's lookin' kinda bummed, yeah, you broke up that's too bad, I guess it's fair if he always pays the rent and he doesn't get bent about sleepin' on the couch when I'm there." Her voice echoes between the tiled walls and transitions into laughter.
"Who am I in this scenario?" Rory protests.
"Obviously the guy on the couch."
"Bummed ex boyfriend?!"
"I'm sorry!" Lane laughs. "A certain amount of conservatism comes with the motherhood, I can't help it!"
They get on and off the subway and make their way to the apartment, just, slowly; They get off at Brooklyn Bridge to get from there on foot but go for coffee at a record store first. Later, when they're crossing the bridge and Rory tells her about all the places she's planning on them visiting, then:
"And on Saturday Jess is- well, really it's a Truncheon event- for this book some guy released- he, Jess, he invited me, I guess weeks ago, and I said I'd go and was kinda hoping you wouldn't mind tagging along- but if you don't want to it's- we can make up an excuse-" She doesn't know why she's rambling, she doesn't even entirely know how she feels about having Jess and Lane in the same place.
"Sounds fun, let's do it."
That was easy.
"If it's awkward we can just leave."
"Obviously."
Rory goes quiet, can't quite figure out why she was nervous about asking Lane to join.
"Apart from that I'll leave decisions up to you." She adds.
"Rad."
They keep walking. Lane shoves her.
"You promised Jess?"
"Stop it."
By the time they get to the apartment Nicks, Izzy and Paula are in the common room watching some reality show, Rory introduces Lane, and Nicks gets up to shake her hand, and offer her welcomes, like a concierge Barbie. Mark, who has a few evenings off, is sitting in the other common room and greets them with contained enthusiasm and Lane giggles over Rory having her own resident Michel. They install Lane in Rory's room, pull the mattress off the bed and make up both. Lane changes. She frowns at Rory's empty walls.
"We're gonna have to fix this."
They head to the kitchen, where Rory does her best to mimic the BLT Jess made her. Lane puts on Le Tigre before they dive into their food. They've been on her feet all day and gotten by mainly on sugar, so the room gets silent apart from Julie Ruin and the contented grunts of two hungry girls, despite the somewhat flawed sandwiches. Lane takes a bite way too big and chews enthusiastically with her mouth open.
Suddenly Jess appears in the doorway. He nods at Rory, and leans on the frame while looking at Lane, who has her back to him.
"Mrs Kim."
Her eyes widen at the sound of his voice.
"Oh my god fuck you." She says with her mouth full, crumbs flying.
"I'm sorry, is it Mrs Van Gerbig?"
She spins around in her seat and gets up, all in one motion. She reaches him in two steps and throws her arms around him in a rough sort of hug. Jess jerks at the impact of her but returns the gesture within seconds. He looks at Rory over Lane's shoulder, he's surprised. She smiles at him even if her chest hurts, why does it hurt?
Lane pulls back.
"I hear you haven't changed a bit."
"Ouch. Guess I deserved that."
"Oh, it's okay, neither have I." She says and slaps Jess's lower arm.
He laughs.
"You're a parent."
"With the bandmate I've had since I was sixteen."
"And how is Zack?"
She smiles.
"Wiser. But otherwise the same."
He nods, takes a few steps into the room leaning on the sink.
"So, what are you up to this weekend?"
"Rory gave me a speedrun through lower Manhattan today and tomorrow it's Brooklyn's time to shine. And I found a pamphlet for this pub that seemed cool."
Lane pulls out the piece of paper from her purse and hands it to him. He looks it over, smiles.
"You know it?" She asks.
He nods and gives it back.
"Nice find."
"You wanna come? Tomorrow night?"
Rory freezes mid-chew, meets Jess's eyes for a second, and musters an awkward smile behind closed lips. Then he responds.
"Sure." He looks back at Rory. "If that's okay?"
She blushes, annoyed for some reason that he had to ask.
"'Course."
He turns back to Lane.
"I'll ask Nicks too."
"Oh great," Lane says, obviously high on social interaction "your girlfriend, right?"
"And Mother Den to us all."
"Excellent."
"Later."
Jess raises his hand to Rory who returns the gesture, and leaves the room. Lane turns and smiles at Rory. Rory gets up and takes another two bottles of beer from the fridge.
"Come on."
Lane picks up what's left of their sandwiches and follows Rory into her room. Rory closes the door. They finish their meals by the small table, then Rory opens the window to the fire escape. They climb out and sit down on a blanket. Rory opens the bottles and hands one to Lane. They clink them together and drink.
"Gosh the two of you were chummy." Rory mutters.
Lane laughs.
"That was nice, seeing him again, kinda… familiar."
"It is good to catch up." Rory admits.
"Yeah, but, I didn't really see that coming." Lane waves her finger around and puts it to her lip, tapping it. "Maybe it's more side effects of the parent thing. You know, when Steve and Kwan were newborns Lorelai told me about this thing called cocooning which is basically what happens to parents the first years when the kids are small: you just shut the outside world out, and focus on all the small stuff, so much even that you forget any other way to be, so once you meet someone, anyone you used to know it's literally a blast from the past, you're overcome by the good old days. Maybe that's it." She takes a sip from the bottle. "But on the other hand, we've always been chummy."
Rory scoffs.
"What? I always thought he was kinda cool, even when-" Lane stops herself.
"Even when what?" Rory asks, unable to keep a certain sharpness from her voice. "Even when he left without a word?" And when he finally delivered that great parting line it was somehow worse.
It's quiet. Rory is confused, she and Jess have been getting on great, so she's more than a little blindsided by the irritation she's feeling. Lane looks at her, serious in an instant.
"Sorry. You know I'd never take anyone's side over yours, especially not in this case. I just figured, since you live together that you'd maybe gotten around to talk about that stuff."
"I think maybe we can live together because we don't talk about certain things."
"That makes sense too."
Rory takes a few gulps from the bottle trying to swallow the ache in her throat. Why didn't he tell me? She wants to say it, it burns a hole in her, but she can't, it would suggest that she needs to know, like it would make a difference now, either way. Or worse, that it's a thing that causes her so much pain that she's forced to speculate, to thresh about it. They're quiet for a few minutes. Lane sighs.
"It's so nice out here."
"It's the best room in the apartment. According to Jess."
"According to Jess." Lane echoes.
"If I didn't know better I'd say you were disappointed at the lack of drama, that maybe being a mother of toddlers wasn't stimulating enough for you."
She's instantly guilty over her stupid joke, but Lane just stares at her and gestures.
"Of course I am! I'm looking to you, as always, to provide excitement. Isn't that our established dynamic?"
Rory feels even more stupid. And suddenly alone. She wants to tell Lane about Matt, so they can trash talk him together, but if she does, she'll have to tell her about the first night in the apartment, the roof, the couch, the vague memory of being carried, the walk the other night. She wants Lane to know, would feel so much better if she did, but can't tell her any of that, she knows, without knowing why.
"But I don't worry." Lane adds. "Seems there's plenty of drama still, just, the old kind."
Rory chuckles. Lane puts her arm around her.
"I guess it'll have to do."
July 11, 2008
Eventually it's the warmth that wakes her. She kicks off the blankets and gets up, opens the window right away, but the air doesn't move, it's as warm outside as indoors. She glances at the watch, it's early. She falls back into bed, pulls off her tank top and lies on top of all covers staring at the ceiling. The sounds from outside move into the room and wake up Lane. She makes a few mumbling noises before distinctly whining:
"Too warm. I don't think I can take it!"
"We'll be fine, as long as we move slowly."
"Like lizards."
When they get up for breakfast they run into Nicks in the hallway.
"Me, Mark and Adam are going to get cooling units for the common rooms."
"Great."
"Yeah it's about time. I told Jess to take you guys swimming, if you wanna go?"
"Oh my god, yes!" Lane blurts.
"Thank you." Rory adds.
Nicks winks at Lane and heads to the door.
"She is nice." Lane mumbles, looking back over her shoulder.
"Told you."
Jess is at the table when they enter the kitchen. He nods at them. Lane sits down and Rory heads for the coffee maker. Jess gets up and joins her by the counter, leans lightly on her then stands up straight. She looks at him.
"So what's the plan for today?" He asks.
"Williamsburg. All the coffee shops and record stores she can handle." She gestures at Lane.
"That won't be a lot in this heat."
"You're going swimming?" Lane asks eagerly.
"Me and Izzy." He turns to her. "There's a public pool. It might make the day bearable. We can meet up there later if you want to."
He writes down the address and hands Rory the note before slipping out of the room. They have breakfast and head out. Lane makes a turn for the subway but Rory stops her.
"It's better to walk. The subway is a hell dimension in this heat."
They've only passed a block when Lane starts complaining about the heat.
"How is it worse here than in Stars Hollow?"
"I believe it has something to do with A Lovin' Spoonful."
"Musical spell, shoulda guessed." Lane shakes her head.
They walk, slowly. It takes forever, and once they make their first stop they have energy for little else than ice lattes and window shopping. They take the ferry back to Red Hook after just about an hour. They stand on deck and Rory picks up the phone, calling Jess and arranging the meet up. They head for the public pool.
Unfortunately, they're far from alone. The place is already packed when they get there.
"It's a weekday! Don't these people have jobs?" Lane whines.
"Heat like this is practically a national emergency." Izzy says. "I've been saving up overtime for days like this, you gotta come prepared for the summer in the city."
She stops Lane from leaving her stuff in the changing room.
"You'll never find it again."
Every sun chair is occupied, they pile their clothes on a free corner of grass by the pool, and change behind their towels.
"Yowza!"
It's Lane's voice. Izzy starts laughing. Rory turns to see Jess, in his trunks a few feet over. He freezes for a second before smiling awkwardly.
"This heat is severely impeding my impulse control." Lane squeaks.
"Like you had any to begin with." Rory mutters between clenched teeth, more annoyed than she would like to be.
Izzy's laughter intensifies and Jess's smile changes its character to obnoxious confidence. It doesn't seem like him, it's clearly a taken behavior, but Rory really likes it, it's a form of kindness under the circumstances. Their eyes meet and he shrugs, she shakes her head to hide her smile. He leads the way to the pool.
There's reasonable space in the middle of the water, space to swim or toss a ball, but the edges of the pool are cluttered by people, hanging on, talking, jumping in despite signs telling them not to. Jess simply squats and gets in where he arrives, people part way for him, but seem to ignore the girls, maybe sensing their hesitation. Jess disappears under the surface and reappears a second later reaching a hand over the edge, speaking loudly.
"Come on!"
The people closest to him reluctantly make space. Lane is first to take his hand and get in.
"Miss Lane."
She swims off. Izzy ignores his hand and dives into the gap, splashing water on everyone close.
"Miss Izzy." Jess says, wiping his face.
He opens his eyes to her and extends his hand to her too. She takes it, sits down on the edge and tips herself in, holding her breath to dip herself in one motion. When she emerges she looks for Lane and Izzy but they're nowhere in sight. Her hand is still in his and she loosens herself with an apologetic smile. He doesn't make an attempt to move, just holds on to the edge and looks out across the pool while treading water. She lets a little laugh and he looks at her.
"Quite the gentleman these days."
He grimaces.
"The ratio of women to men in the apartment had me mending my ways."
She smiles crookedly.
"What?" He says. "People actually like it."
"And you care what people like." She teases.
"I care what people I like like. And you're one to talk."
She smiles.
"Oh, I'm not complaining, I like it."
"Good."
She treads water too, listens to the shatter and splashing around the pool, sneaking glances of the reflected light climbing his arms.
"Have you read-" she starts, and he snorts with laughter, "-How to breathe underwater?
He shakes his head.
"No. I did pick up Swimming with giants."
He sticks his finger in her tummy and she sways away from his touch, frowning.
"I'm really annoyed we haven't read the same things."
"What are we gonna do about it?"
"I seem to recall a book club."
He laughs again, she really needs to stop reacting so strongly to that, but not today.
"You said you wouldn't mind advanced studies."
He shakes his head.
"I did say that, didn't I?"
He pushes off the edge and kicks water in her face as he swims out toward the middle of the pool.
"Put together a list of suggestions. I'll think of some too." He shouts.
She smiles widely and swims after him.
They play for a while as well as they can under the crowded circumstances, later they sit in the sparse shade of a tree for a while, Izzy and Jess smoking, Lane in a heated discussion with a guy with a boombox and a taste for hip-hop. Rory listens and laughs a little.
She has her sunglasses on, relieved to hide behind them, because she keeps looking at Jess. Behind her shades she can relax a bit, allow herself to look, when no one can tell she is. No harm in looking, she tells herself and automatically contemplates how much harm looking has caused, like historically. Not that it helps.
He's a few feet over, leaning his back on the fence next to Izzy, the two of them chatting lowly. She follows the shape of him, realizing that she's never seen him bare legged before today, then hurries her eyes up his torso before her mind has a chance to catch up with her. He leans his arms on his knees, that first night in the apartment she tried very hard not to look but not now, the muscles in his back, arms, his skin, neck and the still wet hair sticking to it. When she reaches his face, she finds his gaze is locked to her - between wet lashes, obscured, but sure, there. Shoot. She swallows. He takes a drag on his cigarette and looks at her, kind of absent-mindedly, Izzy having joined Lane's discussion with the boombox-guy.
Rory blinks, and the only thing she can think to do is to remove her glasses. His eyes widen slightly when he realizes she's looking back at him, and he straightens a bit where he sits, putting his cigarette out and then turning back to her with a smile, gesturing at the conversation. Rory smiles back, but feels like she can't hide a thing. She needs another go in the pool.
After that Rory convinces Lane to give Brooklyn another try, and they leave.
It's late afternoon when they make it back to the apartment, dragging several bags with books, records and posters along. They stop and get takeaway at a burger joint a couple of blocks from the apartment. They grab beers from the kitchen and head to Rory's room to eat, drink and decorate the walls. Lane pins up a Smashing Pumpkins poster which does look nice, even if it's not Rory's favorite band. She managed to score a promotional poster of OK Computer with the track listing and pins it next to her CD-player. She also splurged and bought a smaller collage at an independent bookstore featuring Mark Twain's head on Marcus Schenkenbergs body, that gets to sit above her bed. Lane nails a number of postcards - Vincent van Gogh, Simone de Beauvoir and Audrey Hepburn - above her bureau. They finish their beers back to back in the middle of the room, spinning slowly, looking at their accomplishments.
"Why haven't you done this sooner? Not that I've lived in that many places, but once I had the power to do my own decorating I just can't imagine living without it."
"I get it." Rory says. "I don't know, I guess I haven't really felt at home."
"Maybe you haven't felt at home 'cause you haven't made it homely."
It's more complicated than that, but she can't wrap her head around it, so:
"Possibly."
Nicks knocks on the door a while later and they get ready to go out. Lane gets extremely dolled up while singing "baby, don't you know it's a pity, the days can't be like the nights, in the summer, in the city, in the summer, in the city" repeatedly until Rory is sucked into harmonizing the piano break horribly out of key and they have to drown themselves out with some Ramones. When Lane is done her outfit exceeds the others by a pretty massive margin.
The place she's picked is really cool, and matches her to a tee, cords of twinkle lights cover the walls and bar, making the entire room glow. Electroclash and Riot Grrrl blare from the sound system and they lean over the small table to make themselves heard.
"I feel like your ballerina skirt is sort of wasted here." Jess says. "Maybe we should take you elsewhere so you can shine a bit."
"I got all the shine I need here." Lane yells.
"And she's a married woman." Rory adds.
"Are you worried going out without your husband?" Nicks asks.
"Oh, please, I have the best defense against the pick-up arts spell; Mother of twins. A ballerina skirt has no power over that."
"Even one with glitter?"
"Even that!"
This leads to a long conversation on Lane's family life. Nicks enters interview mode and seems utterly fascinated by Lane. Hardly surprising, Lane's story is actually compelling, and the polar opposite of what Rory's caught about Nicks's own life. She wants to know about Hep Alien, Mrs Kim, Zack and the kids, and even Stars Hollow.
"I'm still having trouble believing you lived in a place like that." Nicks tells Jess after a particularly strange-but-accurate description of a town meeting.
"Not by choice." He mumbles.
"But Stars Hollow needs a guy like Jess." Lane interjects.
"Every town needs a scapegoat." Jess explains to Nicks, matter-of-factly.
"Oh boo-hoo!" Lane slaps his arm. "You spend so much butting heads with people you're as good as an actually guilty goat."
"A trouble-maker?" Nicks smiles.
Jess turns his head to her, eyebrows raised.
"Obviously."
Lane takes another big gulp from her beer.
"But, as I said, a needed one."
Nicks leans across the table to get closer to Lane.
"How so?"
"There's a certain kind of tension in Stars Hollow that only the Danes boys can let." Lane answers without missing a beat.
"The Danes boys?"
"Jess, and his uncle Luke."
"Give me a break." Jess interrupts.
"Luke's the one who needs a break occasionally." Lane mutters.
"Are you seriously trying to get me to move back to Stars Hollow?" Jess shakes his head. "Get real."
"Just visit for longer than a day once in a while, it's good for the town, and probably for you too." Lane leans back a bit like she's done, but then: "Plus, you're kinda one of ours."
"Am not."
Lane ignores him, and talks to Nicks instead.
"His mother grew up there, Luke is like an institution there, and his grandfather William lived there all his life."
Jess gestures helplessly at Rory, so she decides to help out.
"Speaking of being meant for a place-" She points to Lane. "This one and The Big Apple."
"Stop calling it that." Jess smiles.
Rory turns to Nicks.
"But you should've seen her earlier, like she was born for it. Arguing with that guy by the pool-"
"What? He had the audacity to claim N.E.R.D isn't hip-hop!"
"And had it come down to fisticuffs I'm sure you would've won." Rory says.
"Whatever!" Lane laughs. "I gotta go to the bathroom."
"I'll join you." Nicks says.
They disappear. Bloc Party plays at a deafening volume. It's nice, that and the beer settles a calm over Rory and Jess, they even manage to just look at each other for a few moments without it getting weird.
"So, what do you think?" She shouts.
"What?"
She can't hear the word as much as see it. She leans in.
"You about ready to move back to Stars Hollow?"
He laughs, shakes his head.
"It's kinda hard hating the place though. You?"
Damn him and his valid questions.
"Wow, I don't know. Not for a while, but I guess, some part of me can't be without it."
He shrugs.
"If Lane lives there, how bad can it be?"
"Yeah, she just went and skipped that whole get-outta-this-town thing that her favorite rock stars seem so fond of."
"Probably better off for it."
"Weird though." Rory says. "I always thought she was the one of us who needed it the most."
"Strange world we live in."
"People are strange."
His face is all close, his mouth opens and he takes a breath, pausing while the words form inside him, he smiles a little while speaking.
"I think- that Luke stayed there out of habit, just being stubborn, but I don't think he was happy until he got with Lorelai."
It's a big admission for him. She smiles, agrees.
"You do need good company."
They're interrupted by Lane asking what drinks they want. Nicks and Jess leave a while later, to meet up with some friends of Nicks. Rory and Lane stay for another drink and head home, walking arm in arm.
"I'm gooey from all the attention. You think that's how she landed Jess?"
"I haven't asked…" Rory mutters, before turning her tone to chipper. "But, isn't that how you land any guy? Saying ooh and aah?"
"It's certainly not true about Zack, not anymore, and I can't speak from experience, but I don't think that's Jess either." She pauses. "I guess not all guys are wired the same way."
"Who knew?"
July 12, 2008
Saturday morning is slow. Some flatmates are spread throughout the apartment and some are off for work or pleasure. Jess is away helping the writer in question prepare the evening's party. Rory and Lane have brunch at the diner a block away and sit around for hours, before walking slowly through the park.
They get ready to go to the party a few hours later.
"What did you say this place was called?" Rory asks Nicks after having changed for a third time.
"The Hole." Nicks responds, sticking her head through the door, and laughing at the sight of Rory. "You're way over-dressed."
She disappears and Rory sighs.
"Here, I'll help." Lane roots around Rory's dresser for a minute before pulling out a mini skirt, pantyhose and a t-shirt with the phrase Reading is Sexy.
"You're kidding me."
"You have got to start acting your age!" Lane unzips Rory's black dress. "You're twenty-three, not thirty-three." She gets back to doing her nails.
Rory changes and stands in front of the mirror.
"You look great." Lane says.
Nicks walks into the room, wearing a drapey, black skirt and a batiked shirt. She eyes Rory.
"That's better."
Rory looks at herself. She looks cute, she'll admit, young. And she feels like she's playing dress up. But she looks at Lane, who's in a similar outfit, but punkier, and at Nicks, who's in the hippie version of the same get up, then back at herself. I'm twenty-three, she says, not a care in the world.
The Hole ends up being a bar room stored in a cellar by the Navy Yard. There's no pretence of anything fancy, more like the other way around. Sure, there are candles lit and cozy lighting, but it still smells like yesterday's spilled beer and cigarettes, hinting that whatever management is in charge, they might not be all that into upholding the ban. The walls are plastered with posters for the club inhabiting the place later that night, something called The Brit Pit, and the fresh ones advertising the release of "Jesus, Mary and Josef goes roadtripping!" in big, squared, red marker, along with the cover; a rough collage that looks like a dadaistic version of a National Lampoon movie.
Jess meets them by the bar. He's in black pants, a blazer over a T-shirt with a The Distillers print. She halts at the sight of it, staring.
"My eyes are up here." Jess says with a smile.
"I- Is that-?"
"Yeah." He answers. "I've been careful with it." There's a pause. "I like yours too."
She remembers what she's wearing and for a split second she'd rather be topless.
They get beers and take the short tour around the room with Jess. There's already about twenty people present. The writer is a tiny, soft spoken guy named Ian, and Rory instantly worries about him, about his career, his ability to attract enough friends to his own release party and his sense of self. She stops however, when he gets the mic, about an hour into the gathering - by then a significant amount of people have arrived and are increasingly noisy, Rory assumes that the club already has started letting other people in - and the roar of applause that rips through the place when Ian gets on the low stage convinces her otherwise. Sure, he's still soft spoken, but hysterical. Two minutes into his speech he has the room in stitches. She buys two books, thinking she'll give one to Lorelai, and Ian signs them both. She and Lane wind up by the bar talking about school experiences with a few of Ian's friends, almost getting dragged into a full blown shot race, but settling for just one each and another beer instead.
Jess walks around the room chatting with people. He seems so good at it, what he does, and even if she always felt, knew he could do something like that it is sort of strange to witness, she's nervous from it, exalted. Nicks spends most of the party in a corner, talking to a couple of hippie looking people she seems to know from before, but from time to time she'll walk by Jess and peck his cheek or exchange a few words with whoever is talking to him.
The burned CD that's been on repeat consists of an absurd mix of Canned Heat, The Dubliners, Dropkick Murphys and several choir tracks, but it's silenced all at once and replaced by London Calling as the official club opens and the DJ announces his presence. Most people from the party remain, and the new crowd is added to them. Within about a half hour the place is packed. There are people everywhere, and many of them flagrantly smoking, it's almost amusing, and either way, Rory's had one too many beers to care at this point.
Ian must have picked the place partly for the club because he's the first one pogo dancing and barely stops for water. It's inspiring actually, and Rory and Lane join him as the dancefloor fills up. The club name is apparently in reference to the music's country of origin and it works exceedingly well with Lane, who bops around and yells "yeah" at the start of almost every track. Soon they're sweating, but she's unwilling to take a break and has Rory get them bottled beer so they can keep dancing.
A song by Siouxsie and the Banshees has Lane wild with joy and her enthusiasm is shared and contagious, everyone's dancing, as well as possible at least in the cramped space. After two minutes the song segues into a slow number by Pulp and there are scattered booing around the room and a good few people leave the dancefloor. Rory makes a move for the bar but Lane holds her put.
"Trust me!" She yells and entangles herself with Rory.
Nicks and Jess, who has freed himself of his blazer, awkwardly sway together a few feet away. Rory meets his eye over Lane's shoulder and laughs at the whole situation, he smiles back and rolls his eyes, taking a few stiff and staged dance steps with Nicks, who indulges him for a few beats before pirouetting out of his grasp. She bends over laughing before heading to the bathroom. Jess remains alone on the floor, shrugging, eyes on Rory. He picks up his pack of cigarettes lighting one where he stands. She shakes her head and Lane hugs her tighter, exaggeratedly swaying.
The song suddenly erupts in a blustery crescendo along with the hoot of the crowd. Lane lets go of her and starts pogoing, Rory joins her, it's the only move available since people flood back onto the dance floor. Jump like nobody's watching. She laughs, drunk and sweaty, and completely incapable of doing anything about it, and her best friend is bouncing ecstatically an arm's length away.
The air is pushed out of her in sudden pressure from a group of guys taking the floor with force, she loses her balance and tumbles to the floor. She looks up at the faces, and tries to apologize while getting off the sticky floor, but it's crowded and she's surrounded by bodies, when she puts her hand to the ground to push herself up someone steps on it. She swears, but can't even hear it herself. And then Jess is there, reaching an arm down and pulling her up. The crowd is like a stormy sea and they're pushed into each other, barely enough floor space for them to stand.
"You okay?" He yells into her ear.
"Yeah!" She nods. "But Lane!"
He stretches to look over the dancefloor and starts laughing. She turns to see and Lane is elevated off the floor on the shoulders of an enormous man in a The Cure T-shirt. She's screaming along with the lyrics and waves her fists around. Rory laughs and looks back at Jess, only to get knocked into him by someone pushing past. Her forehead hits his face. She pulls back and sees him mouthing a profanity, covering his mouth with one arm and using the other to grab her and spinning them both into the nearest wall.
She winds up with her back to it and he with his to the room, his hands firmly planted on the wall behind her. He grimaces and his body rocks from the impacts of others while he's holding their weight at bay. His lower lip is red from her head and she instinctively puts a hand to her forehead and the other to his lip.
As soon as she touches him she's sober, or maybe just drunk on something else. The music blurs into a roar. He stops grimacing and looks at her instead, kind of wide eyed. She lets her fingers stay where they are, she purses her lips, and squints at his mouth, like she's examining it, all the while her head is on fire. You know what you're doing. The words are on incomprehensible repeat and ringing in her ears. The Distillers. Oh god. That's why this is so familiar. He stood like this then too, shielded her from the mosh pit at the front. And she felt like an idiot, spending hours at the ice rink jealous of Lindsey who got to feel so safe with Dean, just to have Jess show up with the better alternative. Standing in the crowded, noisy darkness, thinking how safe with Dean meant freezing her butt off while he was playing hockey, and how this was better, that she would pay the price of not knowing everything if she could get this, this quiet understanding, togetherness, the kind that wasn't a compromise for any of them. So she'd pulled him off to the side and kissed him and forgotten about that stupid, lonely day.
He leans one shoulder on the wall to free one of his hands, closing whatever distance is left between them, she stops breathing. His hand closes around the one she has at his mouth, and he moves it down to her side, shaking his head slightly. The embarrassment is physically painful, it feels like her heart is trying to exit through her tummy, but then- He doesn't move further, doesn't make an effort to leave, or let go of her hand. He just stands there, getting pushed onto her with every move from the crowd, and it's good. There's nervous laughter rumbling in her chest and it gets out through a twitch in her mouth, he stays serious, close.
She looks at him and wonders why she's so scared, especially now, when he's protecting her. She can't think of an answer but another one finds her then and there; Why did it hurt to see Lane hug him, back in the apartment two nights ago? Jealousy. She wants to put her arms around him, turn it into a proper hug, and Lane can do that, gets to do that, without everything falling apart.
She's hypnotized, stuck in their moment, locked in by their eye contact, by his body pressed to hers, hazy, from the alcohol, she tells herself. His eyes flick to her mouth, and the song gives way to another by The Damned. His body stops rocking, as people switch places on the dancefloor. He blinks, chest rising in a sigh and he widens the space between them. No.
"Oh my god that was awesome!"
Lane tumbles into the wall next to them, a mess of tangled hair, running makeup and sweaty clothes. She smiles and pants, her entire being seems to vibrate with the music, and then she's still and silent and her eyes widen, as her gaze darts between Rory and Jess.
"You guys okay?"
"Yeah, I just- I fell, and Jess picked me up and someone pushed me into him so-" Rory halts when Lane smiles at her, like that wasn't what she's asked. "Is it bad?"
"Depends on what you mean by that."
Jess takes a distinct step away from her. No.
"I-" He starts, but interrupts himself. "Anyone want something to drink?"
She wants to look at him, but doesn't dare.
"A shot." Lane goes. "Something disgustingly sweet."
"Noted. Rory?"
"I'm good."
He disappears to the bar and Lane pulls Rory out onto the dancefloor again, into a New Order song without comment. After the dance they find Jess and Nicks at a small table. He sees them coming and pushes two glasses towards them, one with water and one shot, a clear liquid. Nicks is looking out over the dancefloor, and has her arms around Jess, a leg over his under the table. Rory's eyes get stuck at one of her hands, her fingers moving under the neck of his t-shirt. Her head spins. The noise of the place makes it so she doesn't register the silence until she notices Lane looking at her. When she meets her gaze Lane raises her eyebrows slightly, and Rory determinedly nails her eyes to her friend.
"The genres are all over the place." Lane half shouts at Rory. "I talked to the DJ, totally chaotic Anglophile, you should've seen his face when I told him The Easybeats are australian! There were almost tears!"
Rory laughs but has trouble ridding herself of the spinning. She picks up the glass of water and downs half of it in two gulps. Lane takes her shot.
"Fuck, Jess!" She swears.
"You're the one who insisted on disgusting." He smirks.
Nicks whispers something in his ear. He nods.
"Well," Nicks says. "You're gonna have to make the DJ cry all on your own from now on. We're leaving."
"Deserters." Lane mutters.
"You're a one woman army." Jess tells her, which makes her smile.
He and Nicks get up. Nicks waves at them and heads for the door. Jess leans closer to Rory.
"How's your head?" He asks.
"Dizzy." She replies.
He frowns, he's worried.
"Not from before though." She adds, but finds it doesn't make it better, she forces a smile. "I'm a little drunk."
He smiles.
"Me too."
He should stay.
"How's your lip?"
There's a pause. He opens his mouth and closes it again before speaking.
"Have a good time. See you at home."
She bites her lip.
"Yeah, see you at home."
He leaves. She sighs, and finds Lane staring at her once more, sly smile on her lips.
"What?"
"Oh, you know what."
Rory's about to push for more when an amped up version of All Day and All of the Night starts playing and they wind up dancing instead. The Kinks turn into Suede and Suede into James before turning into Motörhead. They use the pause for bathroom breaks, but once back out on the dancefloor, the DJ has apparently fallen into the grasp of speedfreaks and doesn't recover, after the second Black Sabbath song Lane actually yawns.
"Really?" Rory asks.
"Yup. You better get me outta here, I've developed the capacity to fall asleep anywhere since the twins."
They head out. The night's warm, but there's something, a shiver in the air. The sky is yellow from the lights reflecting on the clouds. Rory looks around when Lane makes a sound. She looks at her, and she's looking all dazed, smiling. Rory sees herself in it and puts an arm around her.
"You're adorable."
"And you're a world-weary New Yorker."
"Am not." Rory protests. "Just last week I was walking around just like you. Jess thought I was nuts."
"You're in love with him." Lane's words are calm, matter-of-factly, just a bit blurred around the edges.
Rory stiffens.
"I'm not."
"Oh okay." Lane laughs. "Hey, did you get around to reading Lies and the Lying Liars Who Tell Them?"
"Lane!"
"You know I'm not Paris, I don't do the sledge hammer thing, I just know a lot of poetry, all these lyrics, and it's just like what David Byrne is saying about not being able to compare love to not love-"
"Lane-"
"You're so in love you can't see it."
"You're projecting."
"You're projecting me projecting. You can't see America for Times Square! All those blinking lights." Lane sways a little.
"You okay?"
"I'm drunk." Lane yawns again. "Doesn't mean I'm blind. I think I have plenty of evidence, you two pining away for each other, by the pool, at the pub, at the club just an hour ago."
Rory decides to go for a different tactic.
"So what if I like him?" She smiles and keeps walking. "It's hardly serious, it's just for some amusement, it's probably just 'cause somebody else has him."
"You're better than that."
It hits a nerve, hard. She stops, turns, raises her voice.
"I am not, stop trying to make me!" She takes a breath. "It wouldn't be the first time either."
She keeps walking, picks up the pace. Lane hurries after, has to almost run to catch up with her. She reaches to grab her jacket.
"You're right, I'm sorry."
Rory stops and turns. Lane catches up, a bit out of breath, still speaks.
"I'm your best friend. If you can't talk about all that embarrassing, less than perfect stuff with me, who are you gonna talk to?"
Rory stands still, feeling raw, wanting to tell her everything, stuff she hasn't even told herself.
"I just-" Lane goes on. "I get that you're embarrassed about Dean, but- he was just a boy that you happened to get together with."
"What are you talking about?" Rory stomps in frustration.
"You told me about Yale, remember? Jess showing up. What he said."'
"So?"
"So, you don't just say something like that and walk away from it, words like that, they change the fabric of reality."
Rory tries to laugh but can't. Lane is drunk, and overly dramatic. But she's also right. Painfully accurate. Rory can't make sense of it, of how she knows it, she just does, and suddenly she's speaking again, without really wanting to.
"Okay! Fine! Words matter. So maybe you can understand why I don't wanna use any! It's the talking about it, period, it won't do any good, it might even do harm."
"So you admit-" Lane smiles, like they're out of the woods, but Rory interrupts her.
"No! I don't! 'Cause once you say certain things it's impossible to take 'em back, to take it back, and I've already done the homewrecking thing once, and that was once too many!"
Lane frowns, raises her finger.
"First off it's so not the same, and secondly I'm not talking about doing anything, just about venting to someone you can vent to-"
"Talking is doing. It's never just talking!" Lorelai calling Christopher before Max, before Luke. "And it's easy for you to push this because it has zero effect on your life, and I'm sorry, but I can't do this just for your entertainment! Me and Jess-" Rory's voice trembles too hard, she pauses for breath, while Lane is silent and looks at her. "We barely made it out the last time, and we never even called it-" She takes another sharp breath. "-what it was. If I say it, it is."
There's silence, then:
"Well, I guess that answers why he'd leave without a word." Lane mumbles, almost to herself.
Rory sighs.
"You don't get it."
"Yeah, I wouldn't get why it'd be difficult dating someone your mother didn't approve of."
Rory Gilmore went to Chilton. Rory Gilmore went to Yale. Rory Gilmore is an idiot.
"Lane-" She starts, but is interrupted.
"But you're right. It's not the same. My mom was a stranger to me for so long, there was nothing in my real life she approved of. I was used to it, keeping things seperate. You, on the other hand…"
Rory has to sit down, and she does, on the curb, leaning her forehead in her hands.
"You got some weird ideas of what's amusing these days." Lane says.
Rory can't help a desperate chuckle. Lane sits down next to her, and leans her head on her shoulder. They're quiet for a minute.
"I'm gonna have to move, aren't I?" Rory whispers.
"Or forget about this pretty quickly."
Rory sighs shakily. Lane puts her arm around her shoulders and squeezes.
"Just for the record, you didn't actually say anything, nothing that'd hold up in court."
Rory takes Lane's hand.
"You in charge of my defense?"
"Always." Lane says. "Their case is fuzzy and circumstantial."
They get up and walk home. There's thunder rumbling, when it's distant it can be hard to differ from all the other ruckus of the city, but now you can't miss it.
Notes: Uncredited lyrics from Bohemian Like You by The Dandy Warhols. And wardrobe choices for Rory and Jess based on a post by fayevalcntine on tumblr.