A/N: Hello…my dear readers.

This chapter is dedicated to you. You, whose frequent reviews motivate me to push on, push on with this story of mine. You, who have taken Rory and let her into your minds and hearts, you who continue to care about this story, even with the long pauses between stories.

This is for you. I commend you; I take of my hat and bow to you.

Seriously. Thank you all so much for reviewing, encouraging me to continue with your kind words and threats of sporks in my liver and Dr. Chase. (Note: I am not afraid of Dr. Chase anymore…but I am afraid of operations without anesthetic, and so the threat is still quite motivating.)

Oh, by the way. Funny story. I mentioned in Like a Lost Puppy that it was based on this dream I had, right? Well, I was going through some early drafts, and one was called "Vanilla." And I was wondering about that, and then it finally came back to me, the two biggest changes from dream to story. (Additional details don't count as changes.)

One was that Rory was originally blond. Her appearance was mostly the same aside from that. As her personality and background got fleshed out (she wasn't nearly as cynical as she wound up being, initially) I couldn't picture her blond anymore, so I changed it.

The other was that the reason Jasper reminded her of her brother wasn't because of what he looked like. It was because he smelled the same. I thought that would be too weird though, so I changed it.

I just thought I'd tell you that, in case you care.

Chapter Notes: For some reason, I really hate this chapter. Next one will be better. I think that was part of why this took too long, I kept going back to make it less of something that I hate, and was unsuccessful. The other reason was the fact that I'm getting bombarded with ideas for other stories. But never fear! I promised a sequel, and I shall keep that promise. Rory would never allow me to stop writing until the story was finished.

The Diner finally has a name.

When Owen says "That one show with the washed up supermodels and the chain-smoking wannabes," he's referring to America's Next Top Model, which nobody in his house watches and he only became aware of the show's existence because one time he was dating this girl who was like, obsessed with it.

Rory isn't some kind of super-student. She was a child prodigy when she was-well, a child-but her grades are pretty average now. She just finds all the ways she can to get out of school early, adding up to a year. (Technically three years, but she skipped two when she was little.)

Lastly, yes, I know, what kind of mom lets her recently AWOL teenage daughter go to breakfast with someone she doesn't know, doesn't even punish her for anything? But I needed to get to a certain point in the story, and didn't have time for "and then five months went by, and then my mom let me go." Plus, I think we've already shown that Rory's mom does not have the best judgment about stuff like this.

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, though I wish I did. If I owned America's Next Top Model, then I would sell it and buy something cooler with the money. Like Twilight. But since I don't own Twilight, one must assume I don't own, and never have owned, America's Next Top Model.

And…here….we…go!

"Rory? Rory, wake up." I woke up to Alice's voice, her cold hand shaking me by the shoulder. "We're almost there." She was leaning into the backseat, shaking me awake.

I frowned, looking out the window. I recognized the street as my own-yeah, there was the coffee shop. Alice returned to her seat.

As we approached up to Kitty's Diner, I continued to stare out the window until they came to a complete stop. Then I turned to the front, looking into the rearview mirror, where their eyes were too. The most convenient form of eye contact at that point, even if it wasn't technically eye contact. Like it mattered.

"Um…" I started. Neither of them said anything. It stayed quiet for a few unbearably long moments, and then I said "Thanks," and was about to bolt when Jasper said, "Rory."

"Yeah?"

"Good luck," he said. I could only see his eyes in the mirror, but it sounded like he was smiling.

"Thanks," I said again, more quietly this time, and got out of the car as Alice called "Bye!" after me. I turned around and waved, and then started walking toward the diner.

The lights were off, the chairs were up and the "closed" sign was up, with no time listed in the space where it said

"Come back at : ."

I turned around and saw Jasper's car still sitting there, he and Alice watching me expectantly. I sighed and lifted my hand, and it was halfway there when I hesitated, realizing I had no idea whether I should knock or just go in.

I decided to knock.

I waited there for about a minute, wondering if anyone was home, hoping they were and praying they weren't at the same time. Then I heard footsteps, the light switched on and the door opened.

It was Owen.

His face went through what seemed like ten expressions in two seconds-irritation, then realization, shock, ecstasy, anger, and bunch of other ones, and finally settling on the natural state of his face, which reflected the natural state of his emotional current. Irritated, but happy about being irritated. Owen was one of those people who showed how happy they were by complaining incessantly.

Then he reached out and grabbed my wrist, yanking me inside the diner, before closing the door and starting toward the back door. I followed him, not knowing what to expect.

"Holy crap, Rory." He said. "What, are you trying to get on that one reality show with the washed-up super models and the chain-smoking wannabes? Eat something, will you? You're creeping me out."

"Um…"

"And you should take a shower, too. You stink."

"Nice to see you, too, Owen." I said as we started up the stairs.

"Yeah. Hi. Where the hell were you?"

"Seattle."

"Where in Seattle?"

"Subway station."

"Mm. How'd you get back?"

"Some friends picked me up."

"Some friends?"

"Yeah. Jasper Hale and Alice Cullen."

"Oh."

"Yep."

….

"I'm going to call mom. Then I'm going back to the TV. I'm serious about what I said. Eat something."

"Where's mom?"

"Police station."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Danny's with her. Nate's at summer school. Whitney-" he shook his head suddenly. "I'll let her and Danny explain that one. Gary and Alex are at some daycare place."

Mentioning summer school reminded me of what my plan had been for this summer-take my last two credit during summer (I'd taken summer classes every year since starting High School, which was why I only had two credits left) and get out of High School. One of the classes I'd planned on taking was over. The other should've still been enrolling. If I took that one, I could do independent study for the last one and, if I worked hard, finish just a month after schedule. Still a lot earlier than some people did.

"And David?"

"What do you think?"

I stayed silent for a second. Yes, I'd expected him to take off again. But that didn't mean it bugged me any less.

"He's in Canada." He continued. "The Collins family-you remember them, right? Apparently he's still in contact with them-I mean, why write your own family when you can write the one down the street? Yeah. They said he's already got a new girlfriend, who's like, your age. Or, Whitney's age. Somewhere in between. But you know. Whatever. We're better off without him, right? Just sucks for Gary and Alex, they're pretty disappointed. Next time I guess we'll both have to hit him. He's not even our father anymore, he's just…"

"A biological donator."

"Yeah. Oh, and Rory? It's good to see you again. Just so you know."

Before I could respond, he was dialing the number.

I decided to take Owen's advice, because for once it didn't totally suck. I went into the kitchen and made myself a sandwich, and when I finished it, I went upstairs and into my room to get some clothes. I accidentally knocked a piece of paper or something off my nightstand, but decided to go back for it later.

Right before I turned the shower on, I heard a car pull up outside. But I decided that it was just my imagination and turned on the shower anyway. Not like I was stalling or anything.

After drying off, brushing my teeth, and brushing my hair twice-it was still messy, but not as bad as when I'd been in Seattle-I ran out of excuses and went downstairs, where everything happened in a blur.

My mother was sitting at the kitchen table. She looked up at the footsteps as I came down, and then before I was halfway there, she was hugging me and scolding me for running away. When she finally let go, Nate was leaning against the doorframe, Gary and Alex next to them. Big hugs, Nate just said he missed me, but in Nate language that meant "You know what? Don't ever run away again, because you will die and I will kill you for it."

And then-no more excuses-Danny walked in.

We stared at each other.

"Hi." I said quietly.

And then I was having the air squeezed out of me.

"Do that again, and I'll kill you." He told me. At least some people were honest.

And just like that, just as suddenly as I'd lost my brother, I had him back. I felt a surge of guilt for how I'd acted before leaving. It wasn't all my fault-but it partially was.

Then Owen walked in from the living room.

"Story time!" he said with sarcastic enthusiasm.

"Wait for Whitney to get here," Danny said.

"Ugh. Fine." Then he went back into the living room, muttering something like "I hate waiting for things…"

And then I sat down at the table. My mom went upstairs to call extended family; Nate sent Gary and Alex into the living room to watch TV.

"So..." Nate asked quietly. "Why'd you leave…?"

I shrugged. Everyone glared.

"David." I said shortly. There was more to it than that, but I decided to leave it there. Nate groaned. "Should've known. If he ever comes back, and you want to run away again, do us a solid and take us with you. Did we tell you how he left? He's such a wuss.

He left like, in the middle of the night, without warning. Mom thought things were going good. And then he just leaves." He continued muttering under his breath for several moments. Suddenly, I heard a door opening downstairs. "Whitney?"

"Yeah." Danny smiled automatically.

Whitney walked in a minute later, saw me, screamed and ran across the room to hug me. I was so shocked that I couldn't even think properly. I just kind of thought "SHOCK! SHOCK!" over and over again.

Unlike my immediate family, Whitney had no trouble telling me exactly how much she'd missed and how worried she'd been. Finally, I had to cut her off in the middle of a sentence. It was the only way to be heard.

"Whitney. Whitney. Whitney!…listen. I'm sorry for ignoring you before I left, okay?" I stared at the ground as I said this. I wasn't used to apologizing-in my family, anything I did, anything anyone did, the other person got them back and then we were even. Usually no hard feelings. "I just wanted you to know that."

"No problem!" she said enthusiastically. I smiled a little, and turned back to Danny. "Sorry to you too….I'm happy for you guys."

He shrugged. "I kind of overreacted. And thanks."

Whitney suddenly gasped. "Oh, you're gonna be happy for us!" she said suddenly.

Danny looked at her. "Wait, you mean-"

"Yeah!"

"It's the real deal?"

"Yes!"

"Wait," Nate cut in, "You mean-"

"YES!"

Cue cheering.

Call it paranoia, but somehow, I got the sense that I was…missing something.

"What's going on?" I asked.

At that moment, Owen came in-accompanied by Gary and Alex-and announced "Whitney's here. No more stalling."

"What about mom?"

"I'm here." Mom said, coming downstairs.

"Crap." I sighed, ready to get it over with. I sat down; everyone else looked at me expectantly. Danny and Whitney still looked thrilled at some secret that Karma deemed me unworthy of hearing.

"Okay. So, what had happened was, I took a train to Seattle. And I was living in this Subway station, and I wanted to come back but-" I paused, not knowing how to explain it.

When it doubt…lie. "I wasn't sure how, I didn't have any money, except the stuff people threw at me, I bought food with that. Then these kids from my school found me, and drove me here."

"Who?" my mom asked.

"Jasper Hale and Alice Cullen."

"The doctor's kids…?"

"Yeah."

"Right, right. They always seemed like nice kids. Continue." In reality, my mom had only met the Cullens once-and only Alice and their mom. And she had said that they were, quote, "Nice…almost too nice." My mom was very untrusting of niceness. She always thought nice people had some ulterior motives for taking over the world in the name of niceness or something.

But now didn't seem like the time for that discussion.

"No, that's pretty much it."

I'm pretty sure everyone could tell I wasn't telling the whole truth, but nobody called me on it.

"Did you meet any weird people?" Alex asked.

"There was hobo." I told him. "His name was Nutjob Nick. He kept acting like he was going to attack me with a spork."

There was silence for a second. Then mom said "I'm…gonna go start dinner."

"That hobo doesn't know where you live, does he?" Danny asked.

"Um…I don't see how he could." How stupid did he think I was?

"Good."

Another awkward pause.

"I'm going to bed." I said finally.

I went upstairs, my head spinning. Everything I'd just said, I hadn't had to plan…it just happened. Maybe I had social skills. Or hey, maybe when so many people lacking in social skills came together, something happened where they were able to go by their own anti-social set of social skills…but Whitney had social skills….

What had Whitney and Danny wanted to tell me, anyway?

Whatever. Everyone knew I was back now, right? I survived that first hurdle. Next plans: Talk to mom about school, ask about where Whitney had been, check a Calendar to find out when Saturday was (I'd lost track in Seattle) and ask my mom if I was even allowed to leave the house. If we were a sitcom family, she wouldn't, but if we were sitcom family, David would only have hung around for the TV movie event of Danny's wedding, and have disappeared by the end of the second episode. But since we seemed to be a soap opera family, it could go either way at this point.

I crashed as soon as I got to my bed. I'd only been using sleep as an excuse to get some alone time, but now I realized how incredibly tired I was. I was out within a minute.

When I woke up, it was midday, the next day, and I was still tired. I dragged myself out of bed to change into pajamas (whilst feeling grateful that my family chosen not to wake me up) and the first thing I saw while going back to bed was a white envelope on my floor. I remembered knocking something to the floor before my shower yesterday, and reached down to pick it up, sitting up in bed. I yawned, crossed my legs, and turned it over. All it said was "Rory" in a neat script that seemed vaguely, extremely vaguely, familiar.

I opened it and pulled out the letter inside. It was very short, and typed.

"Rory,

I'm sorry things didn't work out with your mother and me. I really tried to make it work, but I guess I'm not very good at raising kids. I wish I could've said good-bye to you in person, but you weren't here…maybe its better this way, anyway.

I think it's best if you don't try to contact me. I know you're upset with me, and you have every right to be, but maybe its better that you forget I existed. Don't waste your life on anger, Rory. You're a bright kid, with a bright future.

-Your father"

The sheet of paper made no noise as it fell to the ground.

I sat down.

One: He tried to "make it work" for a month. He leaves us for five years, and then expects everything to be fine when he comes back? For us all to be ready to spring back and welcome him with open arms?

Two: "I guess I'm not very good with raising kids." How would he know? He never TRIED.

Three: "I wish I could've said good-bye to you in person, but you weren't here." So, what, did he think I wouldn't find out how he didn't say good-bye to anyone else in person? Were they not there, either? Bullcrap. What, he's just trying to blame me for the fact that I wasn't around for him to metaphorically flip off in person?

Four: "Maybe it's better you forget I existed." Huh, a little late in the game for that one. I've got your genes; half of me belongs to you. I don't know if you noticed but I look nothing like mom. And anyway, I can't just pretend I didn't have a father at all, did you not pay attention in biology or something? Oh, no, wait. You didn't. Because I can't pay attention in Biology either, and I didn't get that from mom!

Four: "Don't waste your life on anger."

So what, he just expected me to drop my life and comb the world just so I could tell him off? Did he seriously think the world revolved around him? Why did he assume I was mad, or angry, or felt anything, anyway? It's not nice to make assumptions about strangers. How dare he think I was going to dedicate any portion of my soul to how much I hated him for thinking that I-that we weren't good enough for him.

How frickin' dare him be right.

And then the tears came. I imagine that at that moment, my face felt much like that of the Earth after Noah built the Ark.

And then, soon after my tear ducts passed out from exhaustion, I followed suit and crashed.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

I finally woke up and I guess I must be really good at repressing unpleasantness, because what I thought of first was not the letter. My first thought was "What time is it? What day is it? Crap."

I could tell by the light from the window that it was early morning. I grabbed for my cell phone, but it wasn't on my nightstand where I usually kept it. Of course. The police must have checked my call and text records after I left. I wondered what they'd thought of a fourteen year old girl's text message inbox being as derelict as my own.

I really hated text messaging.

I picked my way through my messy room (that hadn't changed) as quietly as I could manage. It was easier when I got to Nate's room, which was immaculate (hence why I'd chosen his over Owen's, which was worse than mine.) I glanced around, looking for his phone, snatched it off the dresser next to mine and opened it.

"Saturday, July 29, 7:57."

Saturday at Eight…

I heard someone knocking downstairs-barely, but I'd gotten used to having to listen from two floors up-and snapped the phone closed and left the room.

Fact: Sleeping for two days makes you disoriented.

I had no idea who to expect until I was already pulling the door open.

"Hey, Rory!" Seth said. "Uh, did I wake you up?"

"No." I said nonchalantly. "Hi. Please come in."

"Rory, are you okay?" he said, stepping inside. I closed the door behind him.

That was when it all started coming back to me-the letter, the crying, the Noah's Ark…good times.

I almost expected to cry again, but I didn't. Instead, there was just some…calm acceptance there that I couldn't define…but not the kind that said "It's all gonna go away and you won't care." More like "You won't care for awhile, but you will again at some point." It was…

Weird.

"Yeah," I said. "I'm fine." I yawned. "Seth, why are you here so early?"
"We agreed on eight, right?"

"Yeah. Why did we agree on eight?"

"We wake up early at my house." He smiled apologetically. "Sometimes I forget…"

"Yeah, well, you know…I shoulda caught it. Hey, um, I'm gonna go ask my mom if I can go."

"You haven't yet?"

"I've been sleeping for two days."

"Ah."

"Yes."
"Rory?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Gee, I dunno. Let me get back to you on that."
He smiled and rolled his eyes, and when I said it, I'd meant it as a joke, but as I climbed the stairs I wondered if it was more open and honest than I generally cared to be.

My mom, half-asleep, followed our soap opera script with not minding if I went out two days after I went out. She wasn't mad about it later, though, so I guessed that wouldn't have been changed by her full awareness of what I was saying.

Nevertheless, I scribbled a quick note-"I went to breakfast with a friend, I will be back in an hour. –Rory." So they wouldn't worry. Then I got dressed, tried to comb my hair to no avail-it was still rebelling against me as result of my little vacation. Whitney could probably fix it, but I wasn't really all that interested in hair right then.

What was I interested in?

One: Food.

I hadn't eaten since the jell-o.

Two: Finding out what was going on.

It was all coming back to me now. Seth had some 'splaining to do…

I don't know where that came from. I don't even watch that show.

A/N: Yup.

I don't own I Love Lucy, either.

Oh, or Jell-o.

Just so you know…

Review please!