Maybe this Time…

Chapter 2: Tuesday

Author: Knowhere

Rating: Light R

Disclaimer: Nothing.

AN: Just a reminder: This does use Timing as a backdrop and much of that conversation is alluded to in this and following chapters.

As always…Read? Please review.

H: Thanks.

Summary: Maybe this time…Change is inescapable. One week. Seven days. A relationship comes together.

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"A clean slate never exists and although there are no regrets, it doesn't mean that everything is forgotten…"
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Tuesday: 11:36 P.M.
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"Do you think we should meet?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know," she gestures, "like see each other in person."

"Dunno."

"We've just been talking over the phone. Do you think we should do it in person?"

He smirks. "Do it?"

"I meant, talk, you pervert."

He smiles to himself. Yesterday was such an awkward conversation that he had hung up without giving her much of a goodbye. Feeling bad, he woke up this morning and decided to call her. Putting it off until now, his eyes are tired from staring at his computer screen all day trying to write. "Why? You dying to see me?"

"Forget it, you egotistical man." She laughs despite everything.

He closes his eyes and listens to her.

"Jess?"

"Hm?"

"You still there?"

"Appears so."

"Thought I lost you for a second."

"Never." And that shuts him up. What is he thinking saying things like that?

Her eyes dart around and she fiddles with her pillowcase as she leans back on her bed. "Oh."

"Rory?" Her names rolls off his tongue and settles in his brain.

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry about last night. For just leaving you hanging like that."

"Yeah, I know. And it's my fault. I shouldn't have brought it up."

"No, that's not it."

"No? Then what is it?"

He leans back and tilts his desk chair. "It's just weird talking to you again after all that's happened. You know? I mean, the first phone call, I get it. You had a question, or questions, whatever. You had called to ask why we never worked out. I always wondered when you'd get around to doing so. But now…"

Quietly, "Do you not want me to call anymore?"

"No, that's definitely not it." He says that quickly.

"Then what?"

"It just unhinges me to talk about your life knowing that I'm not in it anymore."

She bites down on her lip hard. "You are. We talk. We're friends."

And that word sounds bitter to his ears—friends. "Yeah, friends."

If only he would say that's not enough for him anymore, she'd be willing to agree. But even with all that's past, she can't muster that much courage to be the first to say it out loud. "Maybe things wouldn't be so awkward if we stopped avoiding topics."

"Like what?"

"Like you getting all evasive when I asked whether or not you're seeing someone. If we talked about things that made us uncomfortable, maybe once they're out in the open, they won't make us uncomfortable anymore." Wrinkling her nose she stops. "Did that make any sense at all?"

He breathes out. "I think it makes more sense than you think."

"Good."

"Yeah."

"So?"

He pauses. "So, what?"

"Are we going to talk about it?"

"You want to talk about our love lives? You sure?"

Definitely uncomfortable, but determined to be okay with it, "Yes."

"Alright." He takes a deep breath. "I was seeing someone. It lasted just under a year. Ended right before you started calling."

She doesn't know what to make of his timeline. It makes her belly turn hearing him refer to his past relationship in reference to their calls. "What happened?"

Bluntly, he responds. "She wanted a commitment. I couldn't give it to her. She gave me an ultimatum and I refused. So that was that."

"Wow."

"Eh, it's not that big of a deal. I think it was just out of convenience that we got together. She worked on the press stuff for my last book. She came with me for the promotion. I was there, she was there…it just happened. Nothing fancy."

She doesn't like how he says everything so casually. Like it didn't mean much to him. "You sound…very okay with it."

He stops. If he's going to survive this conversation with her, his only escape is honesty. "I think knowing she wasn't the one makes it easier to get over. I didn't put much into the relationship and I didn't get much out of it."

His matter-of-fact statement throws her off balance. She doesn't know if she likes hearing this side of him. "You sound different."

"Different how?"

"Dunno. You just sound…not you."

He shakes his head. "This is me, Gilmore."

"No. This is not the Jess I know."

Maybe that's because I once let you see a different me. He wants to say it out loud to her. But he doesn't have the balls. "Maybe you don't know me at all."

Offended, she makes a face. "Maybe not."

"It's been a long time since you last saw me."

"People don't change that much."

Chuckling humorlessly, he can't believe she just said that. "Oh no? You seemed pretty different when I saw you at Yale last time. You were different. You changed; sitting there with your designer clothing with that rich preppy on your arm."

"Fuck you."

His eyes widen. "Well, that certainly doesn't sound like you." He's pushing her but he doesn't care.

"You have no right to judge me."

"Ditto. Who's judging whom here?"

Not speaking with him face to face frees up her inhibitions. Combine that with irritation and she gets downright upset. "I don't like this side of you."

"Yeah, well, I didn't like seeing you playing the damsel in distress with Logan either." He scoffs. "Life isn't what you always want or what you like. Tell me Rory, what the hell did you see in that guy? Was it the money? Or just the fact that you were sick of being with good guys and decided to go the other way?"

She bites back. "If that were true, if I were sick of being with good guys, I already got that out of my system. Remember us? You weren't exactly the model boyfriend."

"No," he's on the verge of snarling at her remark, "I wasn't the type to simper and follow you around or carry your purse while you browsed around the mall. I was the kind who found your mind sexy instead of just your body. I was the kind of boyfriend who yes, screwed up, but at least I listened when you talked. I wasn't wondering what you looked like naked when you started going off on tangents about the latest novel. Can your other so-called, good boyfriends, say that? Can you honestly tell me that Logan listened to you like I did?"

"It doesn't matter. He didn't hurt me like you did."

Sharply, "That's because you didn't love him."

Mocking him, she gets nasty as well. "And what? You think I loved you? You didn't know the meaning of that word."

"What happened to the 'no regrets, no need to say you're sorry?' Was it all just bullshit?" He takes a breath.

"I might not regret it, but it doesn't mean it didn't hurt." She clicks her tongue. "And you never really did understand what it meant to love someone."

"How would you know? You never gave me the fucking opportunity."

And that shuts her up. He's right. She never gave him the chance to show her. "Show me now."

"What?"

"I said, show me now."

"You're kidding right?"

"No."

Armed with sarcasm, he responds. "If you haven't noticed, I'm not your boyfriend anymore."

"What? You're just all talk?" She mocks him and she doesn't do it gently. She's hitting below the belt. "You say you've changed but can't prove it?"

"Are you shitting me, Rory? Six years later, you tell me to show you. Are you honestly asking to get back together out of spite?"

"Who said it's out of spite?" Her voice looses its edge but she's still not entirely calm.

"You tell me to fuck off and two minutes later want to give us another shot?"

"You said yourself that you think about me at night."

Exhausted and confused, his replies come out severe and vulgar. "So what if I have some sex dreams about you? Doesn't mean anything."

"You're telling me that when you think about me at night, you don't wish you had another shot? Just once, to prove me wrong?"

She's braver than he could ever imagine. And her words make him cringe at the thought that perhaps too much time has passed. They've both grown up so much. Maybe they really don't know each other. Voice soft, he mutters. "This is not what I thought it would be."

"I…" She matches his volume and all the fight she had earlier leaves her in a tidal wave. "Maybe it is best if I don't call anymore. I think this is just all too much, I'm sorry—"

Suddenly, "Okay. Let's meet. Tomorrow night."

"What?" She's the one who's caught off guard now.

"Tomorrow. Another shot. Just like you said. One more chance to prove you wrong."

She stutters, "Okay."

"Okay." He pulls up his planner on his computer. "I have a meeting with my editor at seven. Let's shoot for around nine thirty? That good for you?"

She shakes her head at how suddenly the conversation's turned. One minute they're yelling at each other and the next they're checking their schedules to meet up? "Ten's better."

"Alright." He types in "Rory" on his screen and fills in the slot for ten P.M. "There's a coffee place that's open until midnight. It's on West Union Square. Twenty-ninth."

She writes it down on the envelope of a bill. "Okay." Still in disbelief, she makes sure she gets the number right. "Twenty-nine."

"Yeah." His voice is still short. He hasn't forgotten about what just passed between them, but he also won't let tomorrow get away from him. Not this time.

The conversation pauses and she twists her hands into her bedspread. "Jess?" Her voice is very quiet and small.

"Yes?"

"I, um…I don't quite understand what just happened."

He hangs his head. "I don't think I do either."

"I guess…I'll just see you tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow then."

"Night."

Click.

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Tuesday: 11:59 P.M.
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