Nowhere Man

-By Yo-yo

Disclaimer:C chappie #1.

Wait:

I do not need this, not tonight.

What I need is forty laps, a shower and to finish my homework. I need time to think alone. I just need-

Well it doesn't matter because I'm standing in front of the door, waiting for Eileen to let me in.

There used to be a time when I could just barge in, but Izzy broke me of that. She insisted I wait outside until I was shown in. Coming in unannounced is barbaric:

"Might as well knock me over the head with a club and drag me back to your cave," she used to say.

It's getting colder out here. The wind is cutting through my skin. I pull the lapel of my coat higher just as the front door opens.

"Tristan," Eileen grins, moving aside. "How have you been?"

She helps me pull off my coat before I can answer.

"You look tired," she shakes out the beads of moisture.

"I'm fine, Eileen."

"Have you been getting enough sleep?" she tilts her head to the side and surveys me.

I want to tell her I had gotten very little sleep last night.

I want to tell her about the girl that slept fitfully in my back seat. I want to tell Eileen how she cried and her skin stained from the red dress that she wore. I want to tell her about those blue eyes.

I want to tell her how those blue eyes ignited and flickered like flames. How they licked and burned me throughout the night. How they made my heart pound in my ears. The blue flames that reminded me of the desolate corridor in my dream… quiet and dark were those eyes that singed me from the inside out. But that's poetic and I that isn't "me."

"Where is he?"

"In the dining room." She sneaks me a glance before disappearing with my coat.

Shit, I groan. Double shit.

There is only one reason why he would go to the dining room without me. And it wasn't because he was hungry.

He is pissed.

And I don't know why.

Sticking my chest out, I enter the dining room, preparing myself for another 'you screwed up' lecture.

"Good evening Gramps." I smile standing behind my chair.

He does not smile back. Instead, he cuts a piece of meat and places it into his mouth. When he does look me in the face, he wrinkles his brow.

He can see right through me. He's always been able to tell that I am nothing but a phony. He knows I spent hours in front of the mirror perfecting my look and doctoring my expressions. He knows I've spent years cultivating myself into what they all expect of me. He knows it's all a lie. He's always known I'm a lie.

I don't know how, but he knows.

"Sit down."

I do as I'm told.

"Gramps, I-"

"Where were you last night?"

Shit, I knew he'd find out. This morning I found five missed calls on my cell: three from Jan, one from Jason and one from Daniel. I can't answer him, which will aggravate him more. And-

"Tristan."

"Gramps, it really isn't-"

"My business? Well I beg to differ." He slams his knife down on the table for extra emphasis. "When your parents are away, you are my responsibility. I will not have you out to every hour of the night in little girls' bedrooms. Alina called at two in the morning to tell me you hadn't come home. I was scared for you, son."

"Why are you scared? You know I can take care of myself."

"Tristan, don't give me that load of BS. You're a kid. An irresponsible kid who just got his damn license and has been busted more than once for underage drinking. I had to wake Evelyn and Anthony last night, looking for you. You could have been dead. You turned off your cell. God, where the hell were you!"

I've seen Janlen angry. How can I not if I were his grandson? But I've never seen him this angry. I've never heard so many attempts at four lettered words from him. Usually he was just disappointed in me. He wished I wasn't so much like the other society kids. But now he's fucking angry.

"A friend needed my help," was all I could come up with.

"That's what you call them now, 'friends'?"

"Grandpa-"

"Its bull and you know it."

"I can't-"

"Who is she?"

"It isn't like that. I was just-"

"Tristan, how many times do I have to tell you? Stop messing around with those girls. They only want one thing and it may make you 'the man' to your friends, but it's that same stupidity that's going to ruin your life. You have living proof of that. So why do you keep making the same mistakes?"

"I didn't do that-"

"And I suppose the phone call I received from your father is proof? He's upset because Miss McIntire sent a phone call to her father to tell him she found you pressed against the locker of Miss Terlington, checking for cavities."

"Oh, you heard about that, huh?" I rub my brow.

"Heard about it? Your father lost the deal and is on his way back as we speak. I may be the least of your problems when he returns."

Shit, I groan. I guess I got him back for my birthday.

"What could you have possibly been doing all night?"

"I wasn't doing anything stupid, Gramps."

"Were you with Miss Terlington?"

"No."

"Then who?"

"Gramps, it wasn't what you think I just-"

"Who?"

"Rory Gilmore."

Realization took over and he froze. The color drains from his face and the knife, now back under his grip is being squeezed in a death grip.

"Is it who I-?" the words slithered through a taunt jaw.

"It is."

They say the most indestructible bond is between a mother and her child. It is often said she would kill for her child. She would protect his safety, his rights and his success. The mother and child bond is particularly powerful, and yet some feel as if other bonds are equally as deserving.

Parents' need to protect their offspring is sometimes overwhelming. Fathers need to protect their daughters from the bad men in the world. Likewise, brothers feel it is their place to protect their sisters, help to preserve the family… for they are the future. The need to survive the bloodline seems to prevail. The idea of preserving the blood of the family is so deserving that even murder is worthy under certain circumstances.

The idea to protect seems to be more associated with relation. Then why do I care so much that my touch does not cause her pain? Why do I give her my clothes, and why do I help her back up when she crumples to the floor?

It is not out of the goodness of my heart. I have proven to myself countless times that I have no heart.

An anger builds inside of me. Where does this anger come from? It is creeping through me as I watch her sleep through the rearview mirror. The anger is asking the questions I do not ask, because she will not tell.

Why does she cry in a fountain in a strange place?

Why has no one come looking for her?

Why is she wearing the red dress?

Whom is she waiting for in Star's Hallow?

I watch as she twists in her sleep and wonder why I pressed the snow to her back? Why do I want to know what she dreams of? Why do I want to take her in my arms and press kisses in her hair? Why do I need to feel her by my side again? Why do I need to touch her hair and look into her eyes?

I want to protect her, from the outside demons…

And those on the inside, too.

She was different, like no one I had ever met. She was soft spoken. She flinched when I touched her skin. She looked away when she cried. She wore a white cotton bra- pink from the run of her red dress- with a tiny yellow flower at the apex and…

And…

…and a lacy black thong under a red dress.

Fifteen minutes later, he stomps back into the dining room. His body language tense, and his hands balled in fists. The color now rushes to his face and he releases his anger:

"Of all the stupid things you could do, Tristan. She hasn't been here a week and you've already pounced on a new conquest. This isn't like Miss McIntire; these are the Gilmore's. How can you be this pea-brained? I don't get it. Damnit! How am I going to explain this to Richard? How am I going to face him? Damnit!"

"Gramps, Gramps!" I stood up. "I didn't do anything. She didn't do anything. It was nothing like that."

"Like I'm going to believe that. I'm not stupid Tristan. I know what's on your mind all the time. Remember I know why your father is on his way bac-"

"Gramps, she hates me!"

That shut him up.

"She hates me. She isn't like the other girls. I turned on the DuGrey charm and it repelled her like vampires and sunlight. She tried to run from me. She hates me."

"Then why'd you spend the night with her?"

"It wasn't like that Grandpa. I found her sitting in the fountain after Crew practice. She was crying, cold and soaked. She was only wearing a dress. I couldn't just leave her there, and she didn't want to go back home."

"Why didn't you call? Why didn't you tell Alina you wouldn't be in?"

"I just wasn't thinking about it, honestly. She fell. She hurt her back; I just took her where she wanted to go."

"And where was that?"

"I took her to Star's Hallow. We slept in my car. The next morning her Mom woke us up. You can ask her, her name is Lorelei. We ate breakfast at her place and I drove to school. A doctor saw her. She bruised her back badly."

"Why didn't you say anything, son?"

"Well, considering how much she seemed to enjoy my company last night I didn't think she'd want it floating around her new school that she'd spent the night with me. And she just really needed someone at that time. She didn't need questions and she didn't need it getting out. She just…"

I can feel his eyes on me as I look away. There's color in my face too, but I do not know why. I am not blushing and I am not angry… something happened last night… he could see it and I could feel it. I just wish I knew what it was…

He takes his seat at the head of the table and resumes the meal he'd abandoned half an hour again. He motions for me to take my seat and we sit in silence, letting the clinking of the silverware on the china be our soundtrack for the night.

Finally, some time later, he speaks,

"I'm very proud of you, son. After dinner I'm going to make a call to Richard, just to reassure him his granddaughter was in safe hands last night. I would also like to thank you myself for finally doing the right thing. I never knew I would live to see the day that the son of Loren would do something selfless."

I nod with my face in my plate.

"So, are you sleeping here tonight?"

I nod again; it is not often that Jan thanks me…

I've never met someone who'd never lived in a house before.

To her and her mother, a house held a type of permanency that they had never fallen to. They moved around all her life, like gypsies, finding their own places for themselves in their own world. They never really became part of the communities they had decided to participate in for a limited time.

I could see that it bothered her more than she let on. There was no sense of family. There was no feeling of comfort. She had seen herself as a stranger most of her life. She never saw herself in the people when they relocated. She and her mother drifted… but never really belonged.

In her eyes, I could see what her lips had not said.

Something washed over me. Maybe it was the ocean in her eyes. Maybe it was the storm her character projected since I'd met her, but I could not tear my eyes from her when I thought in a whisper,

"I can't describe who or what you are…but I want to tell you-"

"Honey, are you okay?" Lorelei's words cut short the conversation and she pulled her eyes from mine.

"…in here…" she said...

In half an hour I am changed and fed, almost ready for Chilton.

"Hey Tristan, thanks again." Lorelei called from the kitchen where she sat with the doctor as he explained the prescription to her.

"No problem," I called, walking over to the living room where she sat cross-legged eating a burger for breakfast.

I grabbed my jacket, bid her farewell and began to leave.

"Wait," her voice called, stopping me instantly.

"Yes?" I turned around.

She avoided my gaze as she put down her burger and wiped her hand on a napkin.

"Thanks a lot Tristan," she whispered. "I don't believe I've said that."

"You didn't."

"Well, thanks for not leaving me there to die, and for putting up with my bitchy attitude."

"Sure."

"And well…" she searched around the whole room, trying to look for something to say. I must admit I anticipated what she said next. I wanted her to say those words… for a moment I wanted her to be just like all the other girls…

"Tristan… can you… would you…?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you please not tell anyone what transpired last night? I know it would mean keeping secrets from your friends… but…I just…I don't want people to-"

Well that was dumb of me. Wanting her to be just like the other dimwits when what I liked about her was that she was different. I knew she was different… but that still didn't keep me from being disappointed.

"I get it," I pushed my hair back. "You're new. You don't want rumors to start on your second day. I won't tell anyone. You don't have to worry your pretty little head."

A look of confusion enveloped her face as she let a smile pull her lips.

"Thanks. I just don't want to be known as the Insta-slut in my first week at Chilton."

"Whatever."

"Thanks." She smiled.

I left.

TBC...

P.S. Sorry this has taken for ever. but as i learned in college... i have absolutely no creativity there. it sux. so i'm home now, and hopefully can deliver these next chapters at a faster pace. thanks for all ur reviews. i may revise this chapter, so u should read it again in like a week. anyways... have fun this summer. be safe, esp so u can read and review this fic. . Hope everyone likes this... read and review please. this is my favorite fic, and i'd like to continue it. bye

-w/ luv,

Yo-yo