A/N- Hi all! Thanks for the continued lovely reviews. Right now I'm on my way out the door but here's the next chapter. For those who think I should be spending the time away from my computer, I am, believe it or not. I wrote a ton in advance. But this city is just inspiring...it's hard not to write here.
Anyway, here's 33 and our visitor. I hope you enjoy this strong turning point in the story and somehow manage to live with the lack of answers I'm giving you. As always, keep reading and keep reviewing (reviews warm my heart, and God, could I use more of that this week). Tell people if you feel like it, because I love new names, but I have a soft spot for my early devotees of course as well. Thank you, especially, for staying with this since its admittedly rough beginnings. I don't own Gilmore Girls or any of its characters or concepts but they do feel like mine sometimes, after spending this much time with them. Dear friends, I suppose.
Chapter 33
"Jess."
"How'd you get in?" Jess asked, dropping his bag on his bed. He hadn't yet made eye contact with the girl that was sitting on the other one.
"I've been crashing up here a couple days. I guessed where you hid the spare key. Matt came up once and I hid in the closet."
"Wow, the place must be rubbing off on you," Jess smirked, setting the books down on his desk. He noticed that The Fountainhead was sitting in the middle, perfectly centered.
"I didn't realize you owned a copy, but I checked and mine's in my apartment," Rory said, her eyes following him as he crossed the room, beginning to unpack his belongings.
"Picked it up in California. Weight lifting phase," he replied, throwing some shirts into a laundry bin.
"So where've you been the last few days?"
"Fellini-ville. The natives say hello," he responded, "I took a week off. Apparently you did too."
"How did you…"
"Nathaniel called me. Apparently I'm your emergency contact," Jess answed, still not meeting her eyes, "Gotta say, as touched as I was that you consider us that close, I was a little thrown considering your perspective on our relationship the last time we spoke. Guess I must've missed something."
"Jess, I'm…"
"No, Rory, I don't want to hear any more explanations or excuses," he stated, turning to face her. His eyes met hers. Cold to watery. Good thing he hadn't looked earlier. "Look, you know me and that I'm gonna be here for you when you're ready, and you're more than welcome to break into my place and crash here any time you like. But you gotta give me something to work with."
"I'm not happy," she answered, finally, softly. Tears started streaming down her face. "I don't…it's not…I thought it would be different."
"What would be?" Jess asked, walking over to the bed and sitting next to her.
"Everything," she choked, dissolving into sobs, "Going to Yale! Graduating Yale! Living in New York! Being a journalist, traveling…nothing's the way I thought it would be and no matter how hard I try to make it that way, it's not coming out like I thought. And I don't know what to do! I just work harder and harder and take more assignments and go new places and eat new takeout and I can't go home because what if Mom knew something was wrong, she wouldn't understand and I don't even want to be home, where it's just mocking me, reminding me of everything I can't stand that's happening in my head right now, and everyone and everything they think I am and want and all of it! I just want to figure out why I'm so selfish and stupid that I can get everything I've wanted since before I was ten and still be miserable. I'm entitled and a brat and never satisfied and completely pathetic."
Jess leaned towards her, putting his arm around her as she continued to sob. They sat that way for a long time, neither one speaking. Finally, Jess looked at her.
"It's not okay," he said quietly, his eyes never leaving hers, "It isn't okay right now but it's not your fault. None of it. You didn't bring this on yourself and you can't fault yourself for any of it. You have every right not to be happy with what you thought you wanted. You're not bound to the choices you've made, the life you picked. All of us…we have more lives. Infinite ones. As many as we need to figure it out. Stop killing yourself over not getting it right on the first try. But you have to admit that you didn't get it right, and that it's not okay. Because from there we can work on it. But you hiding and beating yourself to death over these things in your head and not letting anyone else be around when you decide you want help, that's not gonna get you anywhere."
Rory nodded slowly, her eyes locked on Jess'. He wiped a few tears from her cheek and she smiled, a faint, sad smile, but one that reminded them both that things weren't lost.
"I'm sorry for…"
"Never apologize for that," Jess cut her off, "Ever. You know you don't have to and I never want you to."
"Okay," she affirmed. They sat in silence for another minute. "Jess, can I…"
"Stay as long as you want," he answered, "And I mean that."
"Thank you," she said, her eyes bright, though still wet with teardrops, "For all of it."
"Do me a favor though," he added slowly, "Let me call Luke and tell him you're okay and that he can pass on the message. When I was there this week there was a lot of worry going around and even though I know you're not ready to deal with all of them yet, they don't need that."
"Of course," Rory agreed, "And tell him I'm sorry, okay? I'll fix it, soon, I promise. I just need…"
"Time. Space. Sanity. Not having your every move and motive questioned. I got it," Jess smirked, "You're talking to the king of brood here."
"I'll have to have Mom add that to her nickname list."
"She has a list?"
"About six pages."
"You're kidding."
"I never kid about lists."
"So," he said finally, looking towards her one final time, "You're staying."
"I'm staying."
