So wow, I haven't updated this in forever- I def. had it all mapped out and just left it collect dust in my harddrive. Since I never like to let anything go to waste, I am making it my destiny to finish this story. And not a cop-out ending either. Forgive me for my small chapters- I will try to start writing more and putting it together
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"So this is how the other half of the Gilmore's live…" Jess commented, staring amazed at the dark structure that seemed to never end. He had never seen something of its caliber; it seemed larger than it had in past memories. Rory tensed at his voice and turned around, almost tripping over a potted fern. Jess leaned forward to catch her, but at the last moment she regained her balance and pulled back, brushing the hair out of her eyes.
"Sorry…I guess I had a little too much to drink," she said, the blush rising to her cheeks. Jess nodded, brushing the situation off as if nothing had happened. She loved and hated that about him. How he could just pick up everything and leave in the blink of an eye. Wait, what was she doing? Get a grip, Gilmore; stop living in the past. "It's open, I think," she whispered, breaking the silence by gripping the door handle to the poolhouse.
"Huh," Jess muttered, and she almost lost her balance. The familiarity of the whole situation could not be more ironic. Here she was, Rory Gilmore, at the age of 21, acting like she was 16 again, stumbling around awkwardly around in front of a 22 year old, who had been the one to make her stumble in those teenage years. She stepped inside and flipped the light switch. A dull shine from the corner jerked to life.
"Sorry, they're supposed to do the lighting tomorrow," Rory said, shrugging. Jess nodded again in his silent aura and glanced around, examining his surrounding, hands still caught in his pockets.
"I keep thinking I'm going to see Orson Welles strolling around, muttering "Rosebud" over and over again," he muttered, sidestepping into the empty whitewash room. Rory smiled slightly and awkwardly resisted the urge to wring her hand to calm her nerves. Jess peeked out the window, examining the distance from the house, "So I guess you live a pretty private life now? Far enough from the grandparents?"
Rory stepped closer to him, "No, I actually have to go out to get away from them. So no late nights blaring the Clash on the radio anymore."
Jess grinned, remembering Luke's late nights rants over Joey Ramone in the background "I think it was me who had that problem. And actually, it was the Ramones."
Rory pursed her lips together, "Then was it, Lane, who liked the Clash? I haven't talked to her in a while…" Her voice traveled off and she looked at Jess, hoping he'd fill in the blanks.
"I haven't seen her, so I wouldn't know," he said succinctly and gave a half-shrug. Rory nodded and bit her bottom lip, regretting severed ties, missed phone calls and emails. "But anyways…" he began nervously, yet it came off as indifference, "I brought something to show you." She reveled in the fact that he couldn't hide his panicked expressions from her. She knew Jess could read her like Charles Bukowski and she could only read him like Ernest Hemingway: she sometimes knew what was going on, but other times she was completely in the dark. He yanked a book out of his bag and thrust it into Rory's hands, as if it burned him like fire.
"The Subsect?" she muttered, confused. Was this some book they had shared some connection to, that she had forgotten. The cover was a simple black, no cover art, title in white, no other identifying marks. "By Jess Mariano…" Rory finished, not able to comprehend the author's identity. Then, everything came crashing together. "You wrote a book?"
"It's nothing much. I mean I showed it to a couple of guys at some independent press…and they decided to publish it…" he muttered. But it was too late. She had already disappeared into her reading mode, her fingers itching to turn the pages, to devour every word as if she had written them herself.
"You wrote a book," Rory whispered, lifting her head and meeting his gaze. He stared back, hopeful, nervous, confident, confused. The same expression from Sookie's wedding years ago, waiting for her reaction. But she turned back to the book, timid and shy. "Jess, this is really amazing. I mean…I always knew you could…" The overload was too much, she had lost the ability to speak.
"Yeah, it's not the next Ayn Rand or anything," he joked and she swatted him on the shoulder with the book. They were teenagers again, lost in their own world.
She smiled, a kitten smile. He stared back. There was a sort of sadness in her eyes, just as she could see the unfurling edges of his soul behind brown. "No, it's great. Really great. I'm proud."
"I couldn't have done it without you." She melted again. Electricity was roasting the air between them in merry-go-round, Ferris wheel dizzyness. It seemed as if their lips were magnets, both bodies holding desperately back, with water building behind the dam.
Rory took a step back, "Thank you." The moment vanished with her step backwards and then they were just two old friend in a scruffy unpainted room. He seemed to be relieved, but there was a deep pain beneath the leather jacket that Rory could see, drifting like cigarette smoke.
"Well, I just wanted to give you that book…and just see how you were doing," Jess smirked, but it was bitter and he desperately felt the itch for a cigarette.
"Oh…" was all Rory could manage. Jess nodded and gestured towards the door. The pool outside was black and motionless. He wondered if anyone would notice if he sunk to the bottom and never came up. He was stupid for doing this, for believing anything would happen.
"So I guess I'll make my way out so we don't wake up the dead," Jess said, gripping for the doorknob. Rory lowered her head.
"You can't stay? Just this once?" She made contact with his eyes this time. Pleading and desperate. There was Logan….but there was Jess, right in front of her, broken like she had done to him. God, she felt so stupid, so weak and useless.
She was about to say something, but he jumped in, "Sure." The silence blossomed like a flowering vine, snaking around them. "I've got some bookstores I can talk to about stocking my book." He stuck his hands in his pockets. Rory smiled softly. "What?"
"When I see it in a bookstore, I'm going to go right up and stick a note about how amazing it is and but it in the recommendations section, so that when people…" He could feel a Gilmore rant coming on and couldn't help, but grin. He had missed this.
"Read it first, and then you can see what you think." He was humble, she had rarely glimpsed that in the few years that she knew him. It was different, but it was still disguised in that Jess Mariano smoothness, smoother than the L.A. weather. "Dinner tomorrow around 8?" He shrugged.
She nodded, "Tomorrow." He slipped out and was gone. Rory felt some sort of sad longing in the depths of her heart, stepping out onto the patio as the black water began to lap against the sides of the pool.