AN: Hey guys! Yes, I'm alive! And I finally found the time to update this. Hopefully, I'll have time to write more and not leave you guys hanging for such a long time. I'm so sorry about that! Anyway, here's the next chapter. It's just to let you know what's going up with Rory and things are going to pick up soon. Promise. Please, review! I miss reviews, hah. I don't know if I'm going to be updating Cold Hard Facts anytime soon. Maybe after I finish this one I'll give it a shot. Read, enjoy, review!

Rory sat across from her two best friends, her heart aching for the people who used to fill the empty chairs. She thought about Logan everyday – his smile, his smirk, his laugh, the way his arm felt tucked around her waist. She hadn't spoken to him in two months and it had been just as long since she'd had any communication with Stephanie. She felt like she had lost two vital organs and she wondered everyday how she was still able to function.

School was painful. Everyday she found herself looking for Colin and Finn, but the worse days were when she expected Logan to come up behind her, his arms circling her as he spun her around for kiss. It was those days that she would sink so far into herself that even Paris couldn't get a rise out of her, it was those days when she called Colin and Finn – begging them to come pick her off the ground. But their visits were lessening and shortening and their ability to make her smile was growing weak.

"I don't understand why you don't just call him," Colin offered, leaning back into his chair at their old favorite café.

"Because…" she let her voice trail off, her throat swelling with emotion, "Has Stephanie talked about me at all?"

She watched as her friends shared a knowing and cautious glance and sighed, her thoughts wandering once more to Logan. The truth was, no matter how much she missed him, her fear still consumed her, crushing her until every other emotion seemed insignificant. She never asked Colin and Finn if he moved on – partly because she didn't want to put him in that position and partly because she didn't want to know. A piece of her knew that even if he did, it wouldn't be fair of her to proclaim that she was right all along. But the other half of her knew that was exactly how she would feel. And she was sure that being right would kill her.

"You don't want to talk about Stephanie, love. We all know that."

"I don't really want to talk about him either."

"Why?" Colin questioned, "He's what you think about all the time. You obviously still want to be with him and you're the one that ended it, so why don't you just—"

She held up her hand, silencing him, "You know why. I'll hopefully be at Harvard soon, Colin. It would never work. It was better to just end it before I got hurt."

"So you hurt him instead," he said sharply.

Her eyes opened wide in response to his tone. He opened his mouth to apologize but she shook her head, lowering her gaze as the weight of the truth settled over her.

"Yeah, I guess I did. But I couldn't get hurt again, Colin, you know that. It was better this way. I didn't want to hold him back, didn't want him to have to feel guilty for the things he wanted to do and the girls he wanted to do them with."

"How very noble of you," Colin muttered under his breath, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"What is with you today?" she asked, hurt heavy in her tone.

"I'm sorry," he leaned forward, resting his head in his hands, "But you two are the most stubborn people I've ever met. I don't think you'll ever come to your senses and—"

"There are no senses to come to," she cut in, "That's why. This is the right thing. Now tell me, how's college?"

As Finn, eager to lighten the mood, launched into one of his new red head stories, Rory avoided Colin's heavy gaze as her thoughts drifted to Logan. She wished she could just stop thinking about him, but it was impossible. He was everywhere. He seemed to live in her skin. She may not have known if he moved on, but she knew for a fact that she never would. How could she love someone else when that person would be able to feel him? When she could feel him? He was everywhere.

Sometimes, usually late at night, when the only sound she could hear was her own breath, she thought about why she ever let him go, why she pushed him away. She doubted her reasons, sometimes so fiercely that her breath caught and she would sob into her eyes stung and she was shivering, her covers pulled up over her head to stop the shaking. But then she would force herself to think: about how she felt when Dean hurt her, about how Jess had nearly destroyed her.

With Logan, it would be so much worse. Logan she wouldn't have been able to recover from.

She tuned back in to Finn just as he was finishing up his story – something about one too many beers and the back room at the bar. She nodded, smiled a bit, and tried to pretend that she had listened to his entire story instead of following her mind and her heart as they collaborated to never let her forget a certain blonde boy.

"I should probably go. I have a lot of homework," she offered them a weak smile, "I'll see you guys sometime next week?"

"Sure, love," Finn grinned and wrapped her up in a hug, "Call us.

She nodded as he headed for the doors and then she turned to Colin, her arms crossed protectively over her chest. She refused to look him in the eye, scared of what he would see in her gaze and what she would find in his. He reached out and lifted her chin with his fingertips, his eyes as serious as she had ever seen them.

"You miss him, he misses you," he said simply, "This seems simple to me."

"It's not," she shook her head, "It is so far from simple it's…it's…"

"See," he shrugged, "You can't even think of anything to say because you know I'm right."

"I can't be with him, Colin. And even if I changed my mind, he wouldn't want me back anyway. I can't get hurt again. I just can't," she paused and took a deep breath, easing the pain in her chest, "So maybe it is simple, just not in the way you're seeing it."

"You two are so much alike it's almost scary."

She opened her mouth to protest, but his arms were around her before she could speak, "Bye, Rory. See you next week."

And then he walked out the door, leaving her as physically alone as she felt inside.

- - - - - - -

"Hey, Mary."

At the sound of Tristan's voice, Rory cringed. She stood completely still, hoping to somehow blend into her locker so that he would pass her up. When he didn't, she slammed the door shut and turned away from him. But before she could take a step he grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks.

"Now, come on. You aren't seriously going to walk away from the one person you have left to talk to here, are you?"

She turned around, eyes blazing, "I talk to Paris."

"Paris yells at you and you roll your eyes. I don't consider that talking."

"I much prefer that to whatever the hell your attempt at conversation is. Bye, Tristan."

"You're just mad because my prediction came true. Seems like your old buddies have forgotten about you."

"Shows what you know," she replied, trying to hide the quiver in her voice.

"Really? Because from what I hear blondie one and two don't want a thing to do with you. And you see your so-called best friends what? Once a week? Maybe?"

She flinched, his words hitting her harder than she cared to show. He was right. After years of existing practically attached to Colin and Finn, she now saw them once a week, twice if she really needed them. - maybe every other weekend if she was lucky. And Logan and Stephanie were out of her life for good. It was incredible, really, how two people who had meant so much to her could disappear for good like some bizarre magic trick.

But she guessed the habits of Colin and Finn only proved her point about Logan. Things between them couldn't stay the same -- they wouldn't have seen each other, everything would have changed. That should have made her feel better, but instead she only felt worse. By pushing Logan way, she successfully caused one of her friends to alienate her and her relationship with the other two was a shadow of what it used to be.

"What's the matter, Rory?" Tristan leaned in, his breath brushing against her cheeks, "Did I hit home a little too hard?"

"Shut up, Tristan," she spat, turning on her heel and heading the opposite direction, "You don't know what you're talking about."

"You just keep telling yourself that," he said, echoing his words from the graduation ceremony that seemed lifetimes away by now.

- - - - - - - -

"Hey, hun," Lorelai greeted, lifting her head up from the papers piled on the inn's front desk, "How was your day?"

"I need massive amounts of coffee and possibly something stronger."

"That good, huh?"

Lorelai nodded her head in the direction of the kitchen and Rory followed, dropping her book bag off behind the counter; a weight remaining on her shoulders even after the load was lifted.

"So, what happened?" Lorelai asked, sliding a mug across the counter to her daughter.

"Tristan happened," Rory sighed and turned away, raising the mug to her lips, "I really don't want to talk about it."

"Rory, not talking about it isn't going to solve anything."

"Talking about it isn't going to solve anything either!"

She whipped around and slammed her coffee down on the counter, sending the brown, steaming liquid splattering in all directions. She watched it go and knew she should apologize. But she didn't. She simply stood before her mother, eyes cold, staring at the brown puddles that had landed at various distances across the counter and floor.

"What has gotten in to you?" Lorelai asked, her voice sharp as she reached for a rag, "I know you are going through a hard time right now, but—"

"You have absolutely no idea what I'm going through," Rory said, her voice calmer than she expected, "I'm losing everyone."

"Oh, hun," Lorelai glanced up, putting down the rag and walking to stand by her daughter, "You will never lose everyone. I'll always be here and Colin and Finn—"

"Colin and Finn aren't the same anymore. Nothing is."

"I'm sure that's not true."

"How would you know?" Rory snapped, then paused, lowering her voice, "I'm going to go. I have studying to do and I should get started."

"I really think we should talk about this."

Rory pushed through the doors, pausing for a second as she stepped forward, "I already said I don't want to talk about it."

She grabbed her book bag on her way out, ignoring the various workers who called out a greeting, and started the walk towards her house. She was halfway home when everything hit her, when all the emotions from the day came crashing down on her like a waterfall. She tasted the tears before she even realized they were falling and then she wiped them away quickly, frustrated with herself. Everything that was happening was a direct result from her actions. She had no right to cry. But she never wanted to lose him completely. She never meant to push away her best friends. And now, ironically, because she didn't want to be left, hurt and alone, she was left -- hurt and alone

She knew Colin and Finn were trying, but it just wasn't the same. Stories they would have normally shared with her they avoided, for fear of mentioning Logan's name too many times. Phone calls they normally would have answered were put on silent, with Stephanie waiting on the other end. She was cut off from their lives – cut off from everything.

She hated it -- and yet it proved her right.

It was a confusing web she was weaving. Everything she hated about her new relationship with Colin and Finn was exactly the hurt, only multiplied, that she had avoided with Logan. But if Logan and her were still together, would things still have depleted with her two best friends? On the one hand, she liked to think so – because then she knew she saved herself heartache. On the other hand, she almost wanted to blame herself so she wouldn't believe that she was actually being left behind.

But in all cases, one thing was true, she was hurting and all roads led back to her ex-boyfriend – the ex-boyfriend who had changed her life. She guessed in a way they had come full circle: from not speaking, to him wanting to be friends, to dating, to her wanting to be friends, to not speaking. It was order. It was a pattern Logan would have hated. He hated patterns and order; she loved them both.

Maybe they weren't meant to be together after all.

She sighed as she collapsed on her porch steps, the tears finally hitting her full force. She buried her head in her hands, giving up on holding back her emotions. It may have been her fault that she felt the way she did, but she still felt it all: the sadness, his absence, the fear of the future. She knew she did the right thing, that the hurt from him betraying her would have been worse – but even that knowledge couldn't completely ease her pain. Sometimes, she just wanted Logan's kiss to make everything okay again.

She thought about the last time he found her crying at her house. He saved her and then later he begged for her to give him a chance. She let herself slip. She let herself fall.

"I would never intentionally hurt you, you know that."

She cringed at the memory, bringing her knees up to her chest. She guess she would never find out if he could make good on his promise, because she cut him off before he had the chance to break her heart. She took her heart from him and put up a shield, a guard that she would never let down again.

He was her last chance – her last chance to let go, to trust, and she couldn't do it. And if she couldn't do it for him, she couldn't do it for anyone.

Unless…

She paused, lifting her head up and running her fingers through her hair: unless it was someone she didn't care about. Maybe Logan had the right idea all along before he met her. If you didn't care about someone, they couldn't hurt you. You didn't have to worry about trust, about being afraid to fall in love.

Then that's what she would do. She was tired of being special, of being the girl that fell in love and then was shattered. She didn't want to be a china doll anymore. She couldn't be with Logan; she wouldn't let herself. That would just have to be okay. Instead, she would find herself dates that she didn't care about, not only so that her mother wouldn't worry, but also so she could convince herself that she was capable of letting go.

She stood up, her new mission settling over her like a safety blanket. But then she remembered how every time she even thought about smiling, she thought about how she never smiled more than when she was with him. Every time she caught another man's eyes glancing over her, she thought about the way he looked at her first thing in the morning, like his deep brown eyes had never seen her before. And every time she thought of snow, she thought of the day he had taken her on the most memorable excursion of her life.

And every time she breathed, she remembered the way his lips tasted when they were brushing against her own.

How could she forget someone it seemed like she was always meant to know?

She would have to become numb, numb from everything. There was no other solution. She couldn't care about how much she missed him, she couldn't worry about how her friends and her past were slipping away, she wouldn't concern herself with the fact that she was single handily destroying her legendary relationship with Lorelai. If she didn't think about it, if she pretended not to feel it, maybe it would all go away.

She didn't know what else to do when the people, and particularly the one person, who solved all her problems were suddenly the problem. The friends who used to pick her up and carry her through were now the reason she could barely pull herself out of bed in the morning and brush on a fake smile with her make-up.

And she knew it was her fault. And she knew she couldn't blame them. But that didn't mean she didn't miss the way things used to be. Every day she wished for a rewind button, so she could go back to the coffee shop they introduced her to, or tumbling through the snow with Logan, or kissing him on New Year's Eve, or just standing with them all in the Chilton hallway: her guard down and her smile genuine.

Numb.

Becoming numb was the answer, not caring was the answer, throwing herself into unimportant dates was the answer. They all had to be her answer, because she had nothing else to hold on to. When nothing felt right anymore, something had to be waiting through a different door for her. Right?

Then why couldn't she shake the feeling that she had brought about her own destruction? Why couldn't she shake the feeling that she was destined to go to Harvard with no one left who cared about her to leave behind?