Story Title: The Seven Deadly Sins: A Series of Lit Vignettes
Chapter Six—Pride: Show Me Yours and I'll Show You Mine
Rating: T, for some possible language
Summary: A series of looks at moments we were robbed of in Season Three. A look at Rory and Jess being Rory and Jess.
"22.8 miles."
The words had flowed out of his mouth effortlessly, a fact that surprised him as much as it surprised her. As they continued to walk down the sidewalk on the warm spring day, his arm around her shoulders and her hair tickling the back of his neck as the wind blew lightly, he could see her expression change out of his peripheral view.
"How'd you know that?"
He rolled his eyes in an attempt to play it off like it was common knowledge as she craned her neck to gaze at him in a form of amazement that he'd not seen often on her face.
"Do you Yahoo?"
Now amazement turned to amusement as she began to visualize how he came to know this very specific statistic.
"You looked it up?"
He might as well admit defeat. In doing so, she could show mercy on him and drop the subject all together.
"Yeah."
Unfortunately, he'd had a lapse of judgment of monumental proportions if he ever thought for a moment that a Gilmore would miss an opportunity to mock without mercy.
"You looked it up."
Now he had no choice but defend himself until she dropped this. At least until they got back to the apartment, where he could silence her in a way that would be wholly indecent to attempt in public. Not only was it fun, but he prided himself on finding the one true way to render her completely speechless.
"I just hit a couple buttons on the computer."
He was going to have a lot of fun exacting his revenge. He had little choice in the matter, if he were going to keep his manhood in tact. Her mind was running rampant, imagining him sitting a computer, doing a search for how many miles would separate them at night. Planning best routes on how to get there, whether it be for a planned date or a surprising show-up, waking her up in the middle of the night to remind her that life wasn't all about studying. In her mind, it didn't stop there. She could see him Googling her. He had to put a stop to this right now, but they were three blocks from Luke's, and she showed no sign of losing the humor of the situation.
"You looked it up."
"I was bored. There was nothing on TV and I was fooling around, it was something to do, that's it."
Even he didn't think he sounded anything but pathetic as he continued to justify what he thought of as an innocuous fact that he happened to stumble upon. It was clear it should have remained a silent fact. She was much, much too happy about this simple action he'd taken.
"You looked it up."
But she was happy. Something so small had made her happier than he'd seen her in a while. Her arms wrapped around his torso, squeezing him tight for a beat, and he knew he'd lost, at least for the moment. He kissed her temple and wrapped his other arm around her chest, so they were caught in a mobile embrace. It wasn't a new prospect for them; often they ran the risk of getting run over because their bodies were torqued at odd angles and neither their eyes nor their minds were focused on what was going on around them as they walked through the town. His mind was always about ten minutes ahead, planning what would happen once they were alone. He liked to think that she suffered the same affliction; or at least that she was too caught up in their conversation or lack thereof to notice anything else but his proximity.
He opened the door to Luke's Diner with one hand, his other still snaked around her waist. He'd become a master at doing something necessary with one hand while keeping contact with her. With the looming threat of her leaving for college, he tried to ignore the idea that he was afraid to let go of her.
As he steered her for the stairs, she smiled and turned in to him, speaking just loud enough for only him to hear. "No coffee?"
He smiled. "We have some upstairs."
"Since when?"
He put on his most honest face and looked into her wide eyes. He could see that she neither believed him nor cared if he was lying. It struck him that she knew him—not just things about him, but she knew him in ways he'd never imagined. She put together facts and observations and not only tolerated him, but seemed to seek him out. It baffled him at times, but mostly he wished he felt he deserved the attention.
"Come on, little girl, I've got candy," he murmured in her ear, his breath tickling her skin. She giggled, and they clamored their way up the staircase where he let them into the office.
"Where's Luke?"
She had a tendency to ask now, because she knew what chain of events would unfold from the moment they found themselves alone. The idea of being walked in on by Luke was embarrassing, but not the worst part for her. The worst part would be Luke telling her mother. She could let herself go and enjoy the aspects of their growing relationship, but she was only comfortable with him seeing that side of her.
Not that he minded so much.
"He and Nicole were going to see a show in New York."
"Which one?"
"Hairspray."
"Shut up," she rolled her eyes at him as she walked over to the refrigerator.
"I'm serious," he took his wallet out of his jeans and laid it on his dresser before turning to face her. "Looking for coffee?"
"No, soda," she made very little noise as she extracted the aluminum can and shut the door. "Hey, Jess?"
"Yeah?" he sat with his back against his bed pillow, waiting for her to bring her refreshment with her as she joined him. Frankly, he was tired of the delay.
"Is there something you wanted to tell me?"
"The mental image of Luke sitting through Hairspray wasn't enough?" he joked, craning forward to see the side profile of her body that was visible from his vantage point.
She appeared in full view a moment later; a soda in one hand and a certificate in the other.
"I'm gonna kill Luke," he muttered under his breath.
"You were chosen Employee of the Month?" she asked, her voice sounding as if she were asking a preschooler if he received a gold star for coloring inside the lines.
"Stop," he said, no hint of playfulness in his voice. There was no way he was going to discuss this. He planned on using the extra money that came with the so-called honor to put toward the prom she so desperately wanted to attend, but he certainly hadn't planned on crowing about the means from which he obtained the money.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"It's not a big deal."
"The certificate calls it an achievement."
"All it means is that I can tell time and I'm not brain dead."
"Well, the brain dead usually aren't known for their time telling capabilities," she mused, still not seeing that this wasn't up for discussion. "I'm serious, why didn't you tell me?"
"Why would I?"
"You told Luke," she lowered her voice, probably to counter the way he'd raised his. He took in a breath, in an attempt to keep this as calm as possible. He didn't want to be mad at her. He just wanted her to join him and drop the whole subject.
"I didn't tell Luke. He got a letter in the mail addressed the family of Jess Mariano."
"Oh."
She seemed to consider this as she looked at the paper in her hands again. He figured that any certificate of achievement she'd received were something she would cherish, having come from a place of putting her all into a goal. He never felt he was working for any goal other than money or survival.
"It's nothing," he reiterated.
She put the soda down and bent slightly to replace the certificate gingerly back on the fridge. He was almost sure she was ready to move on as she walked over to him and swung a leg wide to land on his far hip. She straddled his hips and sat down in his lap, facing him.
"Well, I'm still proud of you."
He rolled his eyes and put his hands on her cheeks. He leaned in to kiss her, which she obliged to readily. But when he pulled back, she still had that look in her eyes. He sighed. "Seriously, it's a crappy piece of paper from Wal-Mart, not a Nobel Prize."
"It just has to be a little rare, for someone that only works a few hours a week to be chosen for Employee of the Month," she reasoned.
The instant she said it, he could feel the burn of the truth that he'd been withholding in his throat. "Yeah, I guess so."
She smiled triumphantly, thinking she'd made him see reason. All he saw was a girl that deserved a lot better than the likes of him. She ran a soothing hand down his left cheek, and he caught it in his palm and pressed her skin into his.
"What's wrong?" she asked softly.
"Nothing's wrong," he lied and kissed her again. "What about your achievement?" he murmured into her hairline.
"What achievement?" she frowned. "You mean Yale?"
"Harvard, Princeton, and Yale," he corrected.
"It's not like I'm going to go to all three," she teased.
"The three best schools in the country, and they all want you to attend there for four years."
"Most students go for five now; our generation is very indecisive apparently."
"Rory."
"Jess," she mocked him.
"I'm just saying there is a major difference in the direction our lives are going."
This made her sad; she looked like he told her that her favorite puppy would have to be put down.
"You're doing this now?" she asked, her voice sounding small and distant.
"Doing what? Pointing out the obvious?"
"I can't believe you're breaking up with me now," she said, her sadness giving way to indignance.
"Breaking up with you?" he reached out for her waist to hold her stable against him as she tried to pull away from him, clearly ready to grab the nearest object to hurl at his head. At least, that's the way he'd seen most break ups go down in his life. And why he never broke up with anyone in person.
"You're so bent on the idea that because I'm going to an Ivy League school and you still think you're destined to a life without school that you aren't even willing to try?"
"Try what?" he shook his head, not quite understanding the turn the conversation had taken.
"Being together!" she exclaimed.
"We are together. I'm not breaking up with you."
He knew it was inevitable; he'd always known in the back of his mind that no matter how much he wanted to keep her, he didn't deserve her forever. He got her for now, and he wasn't ready for now to be over. He didn't tell her all this, because he was sure she felt it too—or else she wouldn't have jumped to the conclusion she had so easily.
"Oh," she settled back down on his lap and laid her head against his chest. He put his arms around her and held her for a moment, comforting both of them with the assurance that this was where they still wanted to be.
Nothing could change the trajectory that both of their lives had started on, and he wasn't sure he would try if he thought he could. She deserved everything she had coming her way; especially after the years she'd spent working for it all. The schooling, the job, the life that he would never be a part of, except for becoming a distant memory of her past.
But for now, he couldn't imagine her being anywhere but in his arms, squeezing her limbs around his torso so tightly that he couldn't take a deep breath. But as long as he could bury his face into her vanilla-scented hair or take her lips with his, he didn't care if he stopped breathing all together. For now, she was his, and he'd accept whatever that meant for his future.