The Best Of You – Chapter Twelve

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Silently thanking the god's above, Tristan made his way up the steps of the school. His suspension had slowly passed and he couldn't be happier to be back. Pulling the heavy doors open, he stepped one foot into the school before his eyes settled on a familiar figure.

"Hey babe," he replied, leaning against the locker beside her.

The young woman looked up from her open binder and glared silently. "You're back," she stated, her voice cold and unforgiving.

"You're not happy to see me?" he coolly questioned, his eyes searching the crowded hallway.

"I'm ecstatic on the inside, trust me," she replied, placing the blue binder back inside her locker.

"Did anything happen while I was gone?"

"Santos and Madeline hooked up."

"Louise pissed?"

"Very, they haven't spoken to each other in two days."

"Ouch," Tristan commented, his voice giving away his disinterest.

"You're here to ask about Rory, aren't you?"

Tristan took note of her slightly sour face and shrugged, smiling innocently. "Oh come on Paris, forgive me if I don't care about who Santos is fucking."

"He's your best friend."

"Was my best friend."

"What?"

"He was my best friend."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"You two fight over girls all the time, what makes Rory so special that you felt it necessary to end a ten year friendship?"

"We didn't fight over Rory."

Paris shut her locker quietly before meeting his icy blue eyes, "My mistake. You fought in Rory's honor because your best friend made one meager comment about your Mary."

Tristan shrugged off her comment; he broke their intense eye contact for one more fleeting look at the students walking back and forth. "Get to your point Paris since I know you're just bubbling with enthusiasm to tell me."

Paris smirked slightly, "You ended your friendship with one of your closest friends for a girl who hates you. Am I the only one who sees a problem with that?"

Tristan nodded distractedly, "I don't see a problem at all since Rory wasn't the reason for the friendship ending. I say it was long overdue."

"And why the hell would you say that?"

"Why the hell not?"

"You and Luis have known each other for almost eleven years and a girl ended that friendship. There's something wrong with that! Don't you see it?"

"No, I don't."

"Well open your eyes DuGrey! God, you're so careless sometimes."

"Well my apologies Paris Gellar. I know you don't make mistakes but the rest of us do," Tristan replied, his patience thinning.

"You can't throw everything away for her Tristan…"

"What are you talking about?"

"Is she worth it? Is she worth getting kicked out of the house? Or losing your best friend?"

Tristan watched Paris silently, his mind whirling with confused thoughts. Groaning slightly, he refused to acknowledge that her words were slowly entering his mind… it only confused and frustrated him even more. He hated to admit it but her words were making him think, long and hard about what the fuck he got himself into.

"How did you know about that?"

"People talk… everyone knows you moved in with your grandfather."

"And moving in with my grandfather automatically means that I got kicked out? Did it ever occur to you that it was my choice? I'm tired of following my father like I'm some dog."

"And moving in with Janlan DuGrey is better?"

Tristan winced inwardly, "I'm not complaining."

"Not yet," Paris remarked dryly.

"I'm sorry to end this lovely conversation but I see someone whom I've been looking for all morning. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some business to attend to," Tristan replied casually, his smirk widening as the blonde's scowl darkened.

Paris opened her mouth to reply but quickly stopped herself as he hastily left her side. She turned around, wondering whom the person was. Catching sight of the person's rich brown hair, she immediately regretted her decision. She watched with a sickening feeling in her stomach as Tristan practically jogged to her side with a goofy smile on his normally controlled face. She glared at both their backs before turning the opposite direction, wanting desperately to rid her mind of all of her hateful thoughts.

-

"Mary," Tristan started, his voice coming out too soft for his liking.

Rory turned around, her eyes adjusting to the tall blonde. Shaking off her headache, she blinked several times in hopes to focus her mind. She swallowed the ball in her throat and looked up, her cloudy eyes meeting his clear, attentive ones.

"You don't look so good Mare."

"Way to state the obvious, genius," Rory remarked, grasping the strap of her backpack tightly.

Tristan paused to study the girl before him. He noticed her unusual disheveled appearance, her eyes clouded with emotions he couldn't comprehend. Along with her hazy eyes were deep bags underneath and a pale, damp face replaced her normally wonderful complexion. His eyes traveled down, his eyes widening slightly as he reached her feet.

"Are you okay?" he asked genuinely.

Rory shut her eyes briefly before nodding; she ignored the throbbing in her head and let her eyes fall to the floor. "I'm fine."

"No you're not. You sick?"

Rory shook her head, catching sight of his expression. "Okay, maybe just a little. But I'm fine," she coughed.

"You should be at home."

"I have to be here."

"One absent won't hurt your acceptance to Harvard you know."

"I'm fine," Rory argued vehemently. There was no way in hell that she would tell him the real reason as to why she was at school that day.

Tristan shrugged, though inwardly he worried for her. Suddenly, he caught her off guard when he brought his right hand up to her forehead. He turned his right hand around so that the back of his hand met her forehead. He almost jumped back as he felt the heat radiating off of her body.

"You're burning up Rory! Why the hell did you go to school?"

Rory turned her head, deeply embarrassed by his reaction. "I have to be here."

"Why?" Tristan was angry with her for her absolute reckless actions and her stupidity.

"Because…" Rory sighed dejectedly, "I don't know. I'm too tired right now Tristan, now move so I can get to class."

Rory weakly pushed past him but was stopped as Tristan grabbed her arm tightly.

"No."

"No what? Tristan, let go," Rory's eyes glared at his hand.

"You're going home."

"No, I'm not… I'm going to class," she attempted to wriggle out of his grasp.

"You're going home. I don't care if I have to carry you out of here, you're not going to class," Tristan argued determinedly, his hold on her arm tightened though not enough to hurt her.

"I don't want to go home."

"Why not?"

"Because I can't… I have to be here right now. Now let go and let me learn!" she hissed.

"No."

"How dare you try to deprive me from the learning that I so wholeheartedly deserve."

"You're sick."

"Just a little… but I'm standing on my own, I can see clearly and I can form sentences so obviously, I'm not that sick to the point where I can't learn."

"You're shaking," he whispered incredulously.

"It's cold in here. Aren't you cold?" Rory whispered back.

"Stop shaking Mary and I'll let you go to class."

Rory paused thoughtfully, still shaking. She fought hard to stop her body for shaking but failed dramatically. She groaned, staggering slightly she let her head hang low, admitting defeat.

Licking his lips, his worried eyes glanced around the two before settling on her once more. His grasp loosened but still firmly held her.

"Come with me."

Rory scoffed at his sentence, her body continued it's mild shaking and her vision blurred from time to time. The heat from her body caused her face to dampen and also caused her face to redden. Coughing away her nerves along with the slight irritation in her throat, she ran her hand over her make-up-less face, mulling over Tristan's suggestion… or command.

"Unless you're headed to Calculus then no," she was having an inner struggle to remain standing as her head hammered painfully.

"I'm not joking," Tristan threatened, watching her stagger.

"I'm not either," Rory paused to collect her thoughts before continuing, "Now unhand me."

Tristan rolled his eyes at the current situation; he silently cursed the brunette's stubbornness. His eyes gave away his obvious concern and he couldn't help but emit a low groan.

"I'm willing to carry you out of the school, you are aware of that fact right?"

"And where would you take me?"

"Home."

"I don't want to go home."

"Why not?"

"Because… I have to be here."

He was fed up. Grabbing her arm even tighter, he led the way out of the school. Rory, too weak to object simply let him pull her along.

"Tristan," she found her voice, albeit soft and scratchy.

Tristan weaved in and out through the crowded hallway, occasionally looking back at Rory. He convinced himself that what he was doing was the right thing… the girl was sick and she had no right to be at school. He was doing the right thing by taking her home. Swallowing deeply, he felt responsible for Rory at that moment because he knew that she had gotten sick from that day in the rain… it was his fault that she had become sick and he was determined to take care of her.

"Let go," Rory half pleaded as they now stood in the parking lot.

Tristan let go of her arm, but before she could say a word, he placed his arm on her arm and led her to where his car was parked.

"I'm taking you home Rory and that's final."

"I told you… I can't go home."

"Your health comes before grades Mare. Even I know that," he smirked slightly.

Rory shook her head vigilantly as she leaned against the car with her eyes closed. "I don't want to go home."

"Why not? Give me one good reason and I won't take you."

Rory licked her dry lips before giving him an answer, "Because home is an uncomfortable place right now. I'd rather be here then there."

"But you're burning up… look at you, you can't even stand up without your legs threatening to give away. You need to rest."

"Stop worrying, I'm fine… I'll be fine."

"Your mom let you go to school like this?" he whispered incredulously.

"She's avoided me and I've avoided her. I haven't spoken to her in two days," she answered truthfully, feeling the ball in her throat begin to form.

"Get in the car, I'm getting you some help."

"Help? I don't need help. I need to study."

"Rory-"

"I don't need to go to the hospital. After some food and a couple of Advil's I'll be fine."

"I'm not taking you to the hospital."

"I'm not going to your house Tristan."

"I'm not taking you to my house," Tristan argued.

He inwardly convinced himself that he wasn't necessarily lying. It wasn't his house but his grandfather's house. He was however worried about what his grandfather would say. Tristan was after all breaking rule number twelve. Absolutely no young ladies. He inwardly begged that his grandfather would understand.

--

I'm so sorry… I know I was supposed to update weeks ago but I got into this car accident (nothing serious but it still shook me up) and I've just been very preoccupied with it all.

Anyway, thanks for your patience and your continued support and reviews. You guys are absolutely the best!