Whatever poison's in this bottle
Will leave me broken, sore, and stiff
But it's the genie at the bottom who I'm sucking at
He owes me one last wish
So here's a present to let you know I still exist
I hope the next boy that you kiss
Has something terribly contagious on his lips
But I got a plan
Drink for forty days and forty nights
A sip for every second-hand tick
And for every time you fed me the line, "you mean so much to me"
I'm without you
Paris walked over to Rory after school, her arms folded over her chest, "So." she smiled knowingly.
She looked over, "Hmm?"
"He said 'I love you'." she stated rather than asked.
Rory shrugged, rolling her eyes, "Yeah."
Paris smirked, "Number three in the last year. Very impressive, Hayden."
She laughed, "Yeah. I'm so proud of myself."
"Ten months. Three boyfriends. Three confessions. One return." she shook her head, "All hail the heart breaker."
Rory rolled her eyes, "How sweet."
Her friend nodded, "Are you going to say it back?"
The brunette looked away, staring at the people milling around and calling goodbyes to their friends. She bit her bottom lip, folding her arms over her stomach with a pained look on her face. She shook her head, "I don't love him, Paris. I'd hate to hurt him, but I just don't."
"Is it weird, him having said it and you not feeling the same way?"
"A little, I guess." Rory uncrossed her arms, "I don't know, we're just kind of acting like he never said it." she looked over at her friend, "How did you know he said it? I didn't tell you."
She shrugged, "I could just tell."
Rory nodded, rubbing her arms and looking down at the ground as they stood in silence for several minutes. "Paris?" she said quietly.
"Hmm?"
"Why..." she trailed off, folding her arms and looking over the grounds again, "Why did he leave?" The blonde became still and silent, surprised into the inability to move or think. Rory didn't look at her, "I mean, I know you know. I just want to know too."
"Rory..." she said softly, wanting to talk her out of it, but not willing to keep the information from her if she really wanted to know.
"I mean, what happened? What did he do that was so bad?"
Paris sighed, shuffling her feet and looking down, "He didn't do anything." she said quietly.
She looked over at her, "What?"
Paris looked over at her friend, "There wasn't one action Tristan did that made his parents send him away."
Rory's eyes narrowed and she shook her head lightly, "Well then what the hell was it?"
Paris sighed, "Rory, what was the one thing about Tristan that his parents couldn't stand? What was the sorest point between them?"
She was silent for a moment before shrugging silently. "I don't know."
The blonde ran her fingers through her hair, "Or should I say who?"
Rory froze, her jaw dropped slightly and her head shifted slowly to the side in disbelief, "What"
her breath came out in a short gasp.
Paris nodded, "Yeah."
"But why...what did I do?"
She shook her head, "You didn't do anything. His parents told him to end it with you and his dad started talking about you-" Rory looked down, "-and you know Tristan, he won't stand for anyone disgracing your name." she smiled bitterly and shook her head, "They got into this huge blowout and it ended with his dad telling him to pack his bags. He wouldn't, so his parents had the maids do it." she glanced over at her friend and saw tears flooding her eyes, but she refused to let them spill over. Paris shook her head, looking back over at the now empty parking lot, "You know, at any time he could have said that he would do it. At any moment in that two week period that he knew he was leaving, he could have ended it and he would have been able to stay, but he didn't do it. He couldn't."
Rory shook her head and swallowed the lump in her throat, the emotion thick in her voice, "Why didn't he?" she whispered.
Paris inhaled deeply and shook her head, "He couldn't stand to live here. He said he couldn't be near you and not be able to be with you."
Rory took a moment to digest that information, but the gears in her head changed, "Does he know about-"
She cut her off, "Yeah. He's been told about Adam."
"So then he knows that we're together?" Paris nodded silently, refusing to look at her friend, and she sensed Rory's hand going to her mouth to cover up her chocking back emotion. "I didn't know." she whispered. Paris turned to look at her, and saw that tears were streaking down her cheeks. One hand was at her mouth and she had one arm wrapped around her waist like she was going to be sick. "I didn't know."
FRIDAY NIGHT
Rory sat at Richard and Emily's table, across from Strobe and Francine and between her two brothers. Their father was working late...again. It had been two days since she'd seen him and almost a week since they'd spoken. She kept crossing and uncrossing her legs, nervous of why they'd been asked to come tonight. The only sound in the entire dinning room was that of forks and knives scraping porcelain. And it had been like that for half an hour. She was going crazy, and luckily she was saved from being driven insane by Strobe clearing his throat. The three teenagers looked up, their eyes falling on him. He looked over at Emily, and Emily looked up at Richard. Rory's eyes finally fell on her mother's father, and she saw him sigh and set down his fork.
He looked over at his grandchildren, obviously trying to smile, "Kids, how' ve you been"
"We've been fine, grandpa." Blake answered.
Richard nodded uncomfortably and looked up at his wife. She set her utensils down as well, "Well I'm done." everyone murmured in agreement. "Shall we move to the sitting room?"
They all pushed out their chairs and stood, making their way slowly to the other room. The kids sat on the couch, the women on the love-seat, and the men in recliners. Richard once again took the lead in the conversation, "We've been discussing your...situation." he said slowly. Looking mainly at Blake, "You only have a little over a month left in school. And the four of us, along with your father, have come to a decision." They sat in silence for a moment, their breath still. "The three of you will be going to stay with your aunt Margaret's daughter Rebekah, in England this summer." he finished, and a heavy weight fell upon the group.
No one moved. The three on the couch sat in silence. Rory's breath caught in her chest, and Blake made a sound from the back of his throat that only she could hear. Aunt Margaret was Francine's late sister. Rebekah was their father's least favorite cousin. She lived in the country, twenty miles from the closest town. They'd only visited once, and that was just passing through on a backpacking trip through Europe the previous summer. She had four children: and eighteen year old boy, a fifteen year old boy, a twelve year old girl, and an eight year old boy. They were all nice kids as far as the Hayden children could tell. Mind, they'd only spent two days around them in their entire lives.
Shane was the first to find his voice, "How long?"
Richard was hesitant, so Strobe answered for him, "Seven weeks."
Three sets of eyes became as large as dinner plates. Shane sank back into the cushions, Blake leaned forward, his elbows in his knees and his face buried in his hands, and Rory sat straight up, her face emotionless. "Why?" she asked quietly, unable to say more.
This time Emily answered, her voice soft and dry, "Your father is going through a deep depression. He's throwing himself into his work and unable to take care of you three right now. By going away this summer, it will give him a chance to slow down and realize that he can handle things. This is mostly for your father, but also for the three of you. It's healthy to get out and experience other places. You need to get your minds off of the depressing things."
She was smiling tightly when she finished, but the three people she was addressing were doing quite the opposite. Shane was looking at her with a rude expression on his face that seemed to wordlessly ask if she was insane, Rory's mouth was open slightly, her head angled slightly down in disbelief, and Blake's face had come away from his hands. His hair was all over the place and his face was red from where his hands had been exerting pressure on it.
"The depressing things? Grandma, we're not trying to focus on depressing things. We're trying not to dwell on them, but our mother has been in a coma for over a month, and they say it doesn't look like she's coming out anytime soon. Our father has not only thrown himself into his work, but has decided that we don't even exist. And now you're telling us that we're leaving for almost two months to go somewhere that we've only visited once, we're staying with people that we barely even know, and we have no choice in the matter. If we were to not focus on the negative things then we wouldn't be focusing on anything that's going on."
Her eyes were wide and her hand was on her chest, "Blake-"
He cut her off, his voice soft, "I don't mean to be rude, grandma, but that's a lot to take in." She nodded, understanding, and the party of seven sat in silence.
NORTH CAROLINA
Tristan sat in his room, watching the ground as Stewart, Kyle, and Rick ran around the room like idiots...drunken idiots. A bottle of Jack Daniels rested on his own knee, his hand clasped around he neck. He heard something shatter, Kyle scream like a girl, and Rick explode into laughter. But he didn't look up. He couldn't. The pattern of the carpet thread was just so interesting. And it got him thinking. Thinking about everything again. It had been three weeks since the first time he'd hooked up with Mackenzie. And last weekend they'd hooked up again.
Something blunt hit the wall and he heard Stewart curse, and this time Rick's shriek of laughter was high pitched. He didn't look up, but out of the corner of his eye he saw Stewart fall to the floor after running into the wall.
Even last night he'd hooked up with her again...but it didn't mean anything. They were just fuck buddies, and that was all he wanted. He spun the bottle slowly, letting the thoughts sink in. If looks could kill, the carpet would have a hole burned straight through it. A silence fell over the room. The other three boys came to sit with him, and they started telling drinking stories.
He wasn't really listening, and he didn't mean to say it, but when they asked him share one of his drunken tales, all that came out was a quiet, "Fuck her." and his eyes never left the floor.
The other three fell quiet, and Rick spoke, "What?"
He shook his head without looking up at them, "Fuck Rory. I fucking love her and she doesn't even care. She got a new damn boyfriend less than two months after I left. Fuck her. I hate her."
They sat in complete silence, looking at each other in surprise while Tristan continued to glare at the floor, "Tristan, man, what are you talking about?" Stewart asked, having heard about Tristan's ex-girlfriend, but never her name.
He shook his head, "Rory. The girl I was dating back home. She doesn't even care that I love her. She fucking moved on and started dating that jerk as soon as he moved there. She doesn't care about me. She never fucking cared about me. She doesn't even know she's the reason I'm here. Fuck her. I hate her. I wish I'd never fucking met her, she can go to hell for all I care. Fuck Adam too. He replaced me-" his head finally raised to look at them, "-he took my girl, he took my friends, my school...hell, he took my fucking life. Fuck them. I hope she goes to hell, her and her fucking Adam and Dean."
This confused the other three even more, none of then ever having heard the name Dean. But Rick had heard about Adam. "Tristan..." Rick said quietly, warning him that he was going to wind up saying too much. But Tristan didn't seem to care, because he continued ranting.
"I was her first." he stood and began pacing the room. The other three froze, mouths open. Whenever they'd gotten drunk and discussed the girls they'd gotten into bed, Tristan had refused to talk about Rory, and no matter what any of them said, he wouldn't even tell them if he'd slept with her or not, but it seemed as if it was all about to come out. "She wanted me to be. And I wanted to be. I was the first guy she had sex with. I took her fucking virginity. I'd never taken a girl's virginity before. I never want to again. I don't want anyone else. I want her. Fuck her. I love her. I don't want Mackenzie." he stopped in his rant and turned to face them, "I swear if she fucks him I'll kick his ass." He shook his head, "I don't care if she's not mine anymore. He can't have that part of her." he started pacing again, muttering under his breath, "Fuck her."
Kyle looked around, "Do you have a picture of her?"
Tristan nodded distractedly and waved his hand over in the general area of his desk, "The lap drawer." Kyle walked over to it and slid the long drawer open, pushing papers out of the way until he got to the bottom and pulled out an envelope. There was a picture of Tristan, Blake, Jess, and Baker all laughing and holding beer bottles. There was a picture of himself and Paris grinning at the camera during school one day. One of Rory, Louise, Madeline, Paris, and Lane at the twins' birthday party, one of Lane and Henry together, one of Blake, himself, and Rory, and the last at the bottom was a picture of the two of them together. He'd been sitting on a kitchen table-type chair in Louise's basement and Rory had walked over and sat in his lap. The picture had been taken by Madeline, who'd been standing up, so it was angled down. He had his arms wrapped around her waist and her arms were around his neck. She was sitting side ways on his lap, her head tilted slightly as she grinned at the camera. But at the moment Madeline had snapped it, Tristan had turned to look at the girl in his lap, so while Rory was facing the camera, Tristan was staring at her.
Stewart came up to look over Kyle's shoulder, "That her?" he asked quietly, all of them having sobered slightly.
Tristan ran his fingers through his hair, "Yeah. That's her."
The two boys laid all six pictures in a row and looked at the three Rory was in, "She's gorgeous." Rick said quietly, walking over. The other two just nodded.
Tristan shook his head, taking a shaky breath as he looked out the window, not having been able to glance at the pictures, "She's perfect." he exhaled the breath, "I hate her so much." the other three looked up to see him sitting on the bed, shaking his head, "Fuck her."
Tell all the English boys you meet
About the American boy back in the states
The American boy you used to date
Who would do anything you say.
I still taste you
And thus reserve my right to hate you
And all this empty space that you create
Does nothing for my flawless sense of style
A/N: Yes, I know what you're thinking, 'is Tristan ever coming back?' well the answer to your question is yes, he will. Eventually. I promise. And never fear, there will be much drama, angst, and all the things that make a Trory when he does.