A/N: I'm not sure if subscribers got a notification for chapter 3 because I had posted it within 24 hours of chapter 2. In any case, I posted chapter 3 yesterday and here is chapter 4...
Rory leaned into the seat back, feeling the cushioning cradle her lumbar and stiff shoulders. Her strength was sapped. Her fight was gone. For a good long while now, her eyes had focussed on the wind blowing, ominous, through the trees. After a brief demonstration of their mutual literary prowess that had simultaneously felt wonderful and so very wrong, time had begun ticking by in silence.
It was during this silence that a few tears had managed to fight free of her clamped eyelids, though the sounds of crying she'd managed to squelch. She'd innocently realized just how very much she'd missed Jess, his friendship and his thought-provoking, sharp critiques. She'd innocently realized how much she'd loved the conversation and then her throat had quaked. After her short, silent cry, furtively, she'd wiped at her eyes and begun her mindless stare at the trees' dance and sway, leaving nothing but a dull ache.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jess reach for the keys in the ignition and give them a single click. The dash lights came on and the cassette deck began to whir. She glanced at the stereo dial which lit up with a faint, incandescent-yellow glow, powered by the car's Accessories setting.
A tiny buzz of music, barely discernible over the quiet grind of the cassette deck's own moving parts, instantly became recognizable.
Rather than focus on the lyrics, which would have been unacceptable, she turned away from the dash, towards Jess, and cleared her throat.
"So what was your favourite part?"
Jess, who had likewise been sitting in a pensive silence, seemed to wake from his own trance. "What?"
"Your favourite city... or..."
Jess paused a moment to reflect then opened his mouth. While he drew in a breath of air, he seemed to reconsider his answer. "It's good to be home."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah. I mean, I enjoyed San Antonio but, like I said... it was too hot. And the air conditioning was too cold. And... hggg! It just wasn't right. And California is definitely not my thing. Maybe Chicago would've been better if I hadn't been driving a cab. I don't know. It's good to be home. New York is great. It's expensive, but..."
"You love it," she finished for him as he trailed off. His shoulder shrug seemed to confirm the statement. "I should get you one of those t-shirts. You know, with the I and the heart and the N-Y..." she said with a bitter-sweet smile.
"Don't you dare."
"...Take a photo of you all John-Lennon-like..."
"Never in a million years," Jess spoke, but his lips turned into a little smile. "Besides, John Lennon wasn't wearing the I heart New York shirt. His shirt just said New York City."
"No I'm sure it was the shirt, the famous shirt... in the famous photo."
"No I swear to God his shirt just said New York City."
"Well, if you swear to God..." She smirked and lowered her eyes, knowing exactly Jess's feelings on God. "But in any case, the shirt is irrelevant. I can still see you in the pose, with your arms crossed, barely the slightest hint of a smile." Classic Jess, she thought as her eyes traced the contours of his features in the semi-darkness: his brow, his smirk, his worldly eyes and unruly curls. He really hadn't changed. Without even thinking, she reached forward and pulled a lock of his hair from the confines of his unused hood and back away from his neck, examining it. "Of course you'd have to grow your hair a bit more to completely master the impression..."
As Rory's fingers slid off the ends of his hair, she became very still. Even her lungs refused to move. Her empty fingers, however, curled and pulsed absently, midair, close by his cheek. She'd touched him. That hadn't been part of the plan.
"Sorry," she said.
Jess was slow to respond. "For what?" But he knew. She saw that clearly.
"For touching you." Her cheeks heated mercilessly.
A look of torture darkened his eyes. He pressed his head back against the seat and away from her hand, a skyward glance focussed on the heavens. Despite herself, seeing that twist of pain cross his face, she somehow recalled something, an expression, much more exquisite.
And here they were, under the blanket of night. In their spot.
Again the dusty scent of the car tickled her senses and so many familiar memories followed suit. Though she'd turned the stereo's volume way down earlier, there still remained the tinny treble of music. Of course it was the Ramones. It was always the Ramones.
The Ramones. Tears pricked at her eyes as Rory followed along with the lyrics in her head. Even the song was conspiring against her. One time, long ago, she'd sung along to this very song, in this very car, with this very companion. He'd watched her. But though his eyes had spelled amusement, the subtext had been love or lust. (She had never been sure which of the two at the time. Lust, she knew now.) But no matter which it had been, the effect on his eyes had been positively bewitching to her.
It was painful to remember it now, considering how far they'd fallen from such a great height. Back then, they'd had heart-stopping moments of tenderness and new discovery, and fun, meaningful, exciting conversations that she'd never wanted to end. (Conversations just like the one they'd had this very night.) And, to be honest with herself, they'd also shared some of the only real erotic moments she'd ever experienced. Though perhaps they'd only played at being in love, she'd thought at the time that they'd had something real. It was a feeling she'd missed terribly, ever since it had been taken away from her.
She definitely shouldn't be having these thoughts. Recollections like these were dangerous.
So why did she persist in them? She chewed her lip, in contemplation. Did she still love him?
But that wasn't so strange. She could think of a thousand pop culture references in song or on screen where someone would always love someone else. Did she really think that it would be any different for her with Jess? She'd loved him once and part of her always would.
She exhaled, deep in her thoughts as time ticked by silently.
But Jess was another matter. Though sometimes he seemed to (and though tonight he'd said so) he didn't love her. And he'd so easily left her once, proving that he never had. As she studied the contours of his cheek, she decided her thoughts were wrong on so many levels. Yet there were certain moments she could picture so vividly and they still made her heart flutter.
She was staring at him, she suddenly realized, thinking about moments they'd shared in his car, in a past so alien to them now. And considering the reaction on his wide-eyed face, she was staring far too intensely.
She jumped a bit and cleared her throat nervously.
Likewise, he adjusted his posture, neither turning more towards nor more away from Rory. His discomfort was evident to say the least.
"Sorry," she said again. The sweaty vinyl of the upholstery croaked as she slid away. "I shouldn't have touched you."
"Don't apologize. I don't mind."
"I think maybe you do."
"I don't." Jess turned to look out the side window. He shrugged, feigning an indifference that he couldn't quite pull off. "You were poking me earlier."
"Yeah, I suppose I was." She remembered doing it, though the brief passage of time had rendered it otherworldly. "But it's different when there's yelling involved. I'm not yelling anymore."
"That's good to know."
"That doesn't preclude my yelling in the future."
"That doesn't preclude my deserving a good yell in the future."
Rory laughed helplessly, pitifully. She leaned against the passenger door with her head propped up on her palm but, deep in her thoughts, her knuckle somehow found its way to her lips and soon thereafter lightly to her teeth. Biting down on her flesh did little to stay her continuing thoughts. He probably would deserve a good yell at some point in the future. But at this moment, with her thoughts as they were, anger was far from her mind. All she could imagine were sounds much more passionate.
Rory berated herself, staring at the dashboard blindly while shaking her head and reining in her mind. Yup, crazy. definitely crazy. Don't go there, she ordered herself. With Jess, nothing is ever real.