Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Gilmore Girls.

Author's Note: Thanks for all the reviews! I'm very grateful for every one.

He wasn't in love with her. He wasn't foolish enough to believe that he'd ever been in love with her. He saw her for what she was, the catalyst for a long-overdue implosion in what had passed for his home life. She had just been the one thing he'd coveted and couldn't have in his then-sixteen spoiled years. And he'd reacted with the tantrum to end all tantrums that resulted in his father acting like a father for the only time in his life. At least, if being a father meant shipping your son out of sight until he could be returned as a socially more acceptable version of the original.

She'd never been like the other girls he craved, though to his credit he'd never pretended to be in love with them either. He didn't plan on using words like that until he meant them, whatever the rewards that were promised for empty declarations. He'd tried to stay clear of girls like that, the ones who'd try to trap him. His family had at least taught him to beware, though it was his own integrity rather than his heritage that he chose to protect. Instead, he'd contented himself with those who'd flaunted charms more obvious than hers, the girls who had as much to gain as him by having their names linked in idle gossip. Those who watched his ostentatious displays of hormone-driven lust around Chilton didn't realise that most of the time they were watching the main feature, not just some trailer for the eventual relief of his frustrations. He'd only been prepared to take what he could, when he could but his reputation had been built on their perceptions.

He was over it now, the teenage crush that had driven him half to distraction, sick of judging himself through her eyes. He'd never seen anything there but censure or pity. She wasn't worth it. He'd outgrown the stage of trying to provoke a different reaction and was no longer willing to accept her pity. He kind of wished that he hadn't developed a greater sense of self-awareness over the past year, though, since he was unfortunately conscious of the fact that she was his only draw to this godforsaken party. He'd hide out here in the shadows of the garden until he got his requisite thirty seconds of awkward goodbye.

But this time pride wouldn't let him waste his charm in futile attempts to get under her vulnerable skin. This time he'd be the one to walk away by choice. This time he'd had enough practice maintaining polite antipathy to use it when required.

They could both blame Paris for his presence at this party. She'd been the only one to maintain some semblance of contact with him after his abrupt departure, her correspondence alternately sympathetic and berating him for his stupidity. It was a combination he should have been used to. He'd kept in touch because having some last remaining thread with his old life seemed important, and Paris was the only link he had. But he'd never asked about Rory, and it was a long time before Paris had volunteered any information.

He still didn't know why. He'd known about the crush she'd had on him. In the beginning he'd wondered if plain jealousy prevented her mentioning Rory's name. Later he wondered if it was her twisted way of protecting him. But he noticed that after Jamie's name started creeping into her emails, there had been the occasional reference to Rory. Maybe it was just that after he'd left, they'd started to become friends. He didn't know and he'd never ask.

All the same, it was the chance meeting with Paris in the parking lot of the bookstore that had provoked his attendance at the Chilton graduation, when Louise at least had welcomed him with open arms and whispered that her party wouldn't be a real party without him. He'd accepted her nuzzling at his earlobe with a heavy lidded smile that belonged in the past he was so intent on never revisiting. Paris had been less gratifyingly pleased to be reunited with him, though he might have inadvertently provoked her wrath with his question.

"How's the speech going? I presume you're valedictorian elect?"

She'd glared at him and he wondered if she'd managed to hone her withering stare into a weapon of very immediate destruction in his absence. It made him want to duck behind the 4x4 he was ready to climb into.

"No. That would be your long lost little girlfriend."

"What?"

He'd grasped whom she meant pretty quickly but hadn't wanted to give her the satisfaction of knowing that he was still as transparent as she believed him.

"Rory. And don't give me any of that bull you're about to. You want to see her again? Come and watch the stupid ceremony. Repent for past follies and agree to be friends. And forget her. She's doing very nicely without your help."

For once he'd failed to obey her command, though maybe that had been Rory's fault. She'd piqued his interest with that overheard monologue at her ex so that forgetting her, just for the moment, wasn't an order he could follow. He'd grasp instead at the bone of casual friendship Paris had so generously tossed him in return for his remorse. He just couldn't be sure that Rory would see it the same way. So he'd sit here, stone cold sober in the solitary confinement of his choosing until she found him. Or until he decided it was time to seek her out. Patience had never been his virtue.

His chances of her finding him hadn't been enhanced by her friends' reaction to her announcement that she planned on going to this party.

"You're serious?"

Lane hadn't been able to keep the disbelief out of her voice.

Rory nodded. "Why not?"

"Why not? Why not? Because we've been here before, Rory. Boy dumps girl, girl decides social life is in need of a revamp, girl kisses boy, girl has meltdown. This is not a picture we need to recreate."

"Jess isn't Dean. And he didn't dump me. He just left. And this isn't about him anyway. I'm not going to see most of these people again and I was forced to spend a large part of my time with them. It's not that strange."

"What did Lorelai say?"

"Pretty much the same as you. With more specific warnings about Tristan."

"But he's not here any more- what does he have to do with anything?"

"Nothing."

Rory peeled herself off the sofa and went into the kitchen. "Do you want a soda?"

"Please. What are you not telling me?"

"Tristan came back." Rory mumbled as though that would prevent Lane noticing what she was saying.

"Tristan came back?"

Rory nodded. "And Mom caught a glimpse of him after I'd been talking to him. After the Jess call. And…."

"And now you're blowing off dinner with the grandparents- who just gave you a car, might I add- to go to Louise's party. Where Tristan will be. After breaking up with Jess- however you describe it, he's gone. Stop me when it starts to sound unfamiliar."

Rory's jaw set stubbornly and Lane sighed. "You're going, aren't you? I'm afraid one thing will be different though."

"Just one? Which one would that be? The fact that this party's in Louise's house instead of Madeleine's-"

"Oh yes, that'll make all the difference."

Rory continued undeterred. "The fact that Jess isn't Dean, or that Tristan isn't- Tristan- any more?"

"I meant that I couldn't come this time because I have a date with Dave. But I'd like to hear more about how Tristan isn't Tristan."

Rory shrugged. "He just seemed different. He didn't make me want to cause him irreparable physical damage earlier."

"That doesn't mean he changed, Rory. It means you did. And compared to everything Jess put you through he may not look as bad as he did before."

"Don't compare Tristan to Jess. Jess is nothing like Tristan. Jess is- was- everything. In the end he just…."

She trailed off as the tears started again. She'd never cried so much in her life. She'd kept up the façade of cheerful graduate for so long that when the cracks appeared everything she'd been holding back came flooding through.

"I'm sorry." Lane was immediately contrite, her arm round her friend.

"I loved him, Lane. Why didn't he tell me what was going on? Why didn't he tell me he was leaving?"

Lane thought she knew the answer to that one. "Because he was afraid you might try to stop him. Or try to go with him. Either way I think he knew it wasn't going to work. It's not like he was treating you well before that, Rory."

"I know, but…."

Rory wiped at her eyes with her hands and Lane sighed.

"We'd better get you cleaned up for the party."

An hour later Rory had found herself standing outside Louise's, her new car parked neatly beside a row of others, though she wondered if their owners would be in any condition to drive later. Lane had coaxed her into the new blue dress that had been earmarked for dinner with Jess after graduation. She'd felt more like consigning it to the break-up box at the back of Lorelai's wardrobe: unworn, unloved, unwanted. Despite her insistence that the party was a good idea, she hadn't managed to convince herself. No-one would expect her to be here, though this time she wasn't afraid that she wouldn't find a face she recognised sufficiently to say hello. These days she merited a place of toleration in the Chiltonite world. She'd learned to exist in their universe though they'd never understand hers. She went to school with them and then she disappeared back to her parallel life. Only Paris had tried to break into that and it was doubtful that she'd have welcomed any other intruders. After the fiasco that had been Madeline's party, she'd never tried to fit in with them again. What was she doing here by choice anyway?

"Thought you weren't coming, Gilmore?"

"It's nice to see you too Paris." She parroted the usual greeting with its inevitable sarcasm as she turned to see what passed for her best Chilton friend beside her. "I take it you're here until whatever time your watch beeps to tell you you've put in enough effort socialising for one evening?"

"No. Oddly this time I wasn't forced here. It seemed like the right thing to do. Fill in the gaps about people now that it's too late to matter."

Rory nodded, worried that Paris was starting to make sense of her earlier garbled reaction to graduation. "Me too."

"I guess we should go in then."

"I guess we should."

They stood a moment longer until eventually Rory walked up to the open door, Paris trailing behind with a sigh. This had never been her idea of fun.

"You came!"

Louise threw her arms round Rory and moved to do the same to Paris, who stepped back and folded her arms.

"Well, hello, Paris." She changed the greeting to a wave from a nice safe distance.

"Hello."

Whether at the party by choice or not Paris couldn't alter her slightly sulky tone. "Where do the coats go?"

"Upstairs. Second bedroom on the left. It shouldn't be occupied."

"I'll take yours."

"Thanks."

Rory shrugged her way out of her coat and handed it over. "I'll see you inside?"

Paris nodded as Louise shepherded Rory away in the direction of the bar.

"Here. Have some champagne."

"Thanks."

She took the glass awkwardly, not really wanting it, especially with her brand new car parked outside.

"Do you want to come and find Madeline? Or there's food in the kitchen."

"Food sounds good. You go on, though."

"All right. Come and find us when you're ready."

Rory nodded as Louise swept back into the throng. She turned and stared in the direction of the kitchen. It looked less crowded. And she was starving. She wandered through and grabbed a plate to fill, grateful for once that at these parties caterers were a pre-requisite.

She'd exchanged greetings with at least five people who surprised her with effusive congratulations, though she suspected these owed something to the half-empty glasses in their hands than to any real good wishes, when she decided she needed some peace and quiet. Tentatively she pushed open a door to the conservatory. It was mostly empty, and she sighed with relief as she settled onto a chair with her food.

She picked up the book lying beside her. "The Motorcycle Diaries."

She opened it as she started to eat.

"Good to see some things haven't changed."

She hadn't noticed the person leaning over in front of her and she started as she raised her eyes.

"Still reading at a party? You really are very odd."

She smiled. "Thank you."