Chapter 7: I Was Afraid I'd Eat Your Brains, Cause I'm Evil
Author's Note: So I disappeared again. This time I dropped some acid and played the tambourine for some random hippie band that played most of its gigs for squirrels and lost stoners. My hair got longer. I connected with nature on an almost sexual level. I was this close to reaching nirvana. Then I woke up and realized it was just from some super awesome weed and I was still in my dorm room with Grace Kelly judging me from three different walls. But wouldn't that be sick if every time I fell off the face of the internet I had some crazy adventure? But at least my absence was short compared to two years, so really, we're making progress here. Since we last touched, I've fallen in deep love with Zach Galifianakis, become a pretend playwrite and gotten ridiculously close to turning 21. But you're not here to gather information for the biography I know you're secretly writing on me; you're here for THE STORY. Or what you remember of it.
Rory. Jess. Sexual tension. There; you're all caught up.
Disclaimer: Hipsters like The National. I like The National. Does that make me a hipster? Maybe. Whatever. Their music makes me want to be mopey in a way I never thought was possible. I love it. And the title comes from a song off their new album. If I ran the world (one day, I will), The National would be appointed as the official band of angst.
The full title wouldn't fit in the chapter bar thing because it limits me. Seriously internets, stop limiting my creativity!
But enough of my babble. Let's solve that cliffhanger (are you still hanging? JUMP!)
Rory tried confession.
It didn't work out so well.
"I need God to forgive me and reinstate my virginity."
Aren't there ceremonies and surgeries for that?
"Excuse me?" Oh come on father, that's a fairly simple request, right?
"I swear, father, I went insane for a twenty-four period. I didn't choose to lose my virginity. Another me did. A slutty me parading around in an Oscar original," she paused. "I really hate slutty me."
"I don't think losing your virginity condemns you to being a slut, my dear." That's true. Perfectly good women lose their virginity all the time.
"Just say it. I'm a loose woman with no morals that Harvard is never going to accept. I'm going to be forced to go to some liberal arts school and experiment with lesbianism. I don't even like sushi."
"Um…"
"And the worst thing is, I don't even like the boy. Can you put some spell on him to turn him into a eunuch? He's going around with his filthy dick destroying the city's purity! That has to be a bother to the church, right?"
"I don't caste spells. I'm a priest, not a wizard."
"Can't you make a call on your God phone or something?"
"My God phone?"
"See, not only did this boy take my purity, but he's made me an idiot! I bet he gave me syphilis. Do you think he gave me syphilis?"
"Maybe you should go to a clinic and have yourself checked out if you think he's that unclean."
"And risk having it all over the internet that I have an STD? No thank you! Father, you've obviously never been a 17 year-old girl."
"My best advice then, for you, my dear, is to avoid this boy."
"Oh I will. Believe me. I loathe his smarmy self."
"I believe you."
"He's not even pretty."
Now Rory, have you lost your religion that quickly? Thou shall not lie.
"Well then, let's just chalk this up to a lapse of judgment. You have my permission to forget about it."
"Are you telling me to fake my virginity for whatever man I eventually decide is worthy of the company of my vagina? I'm telling the Pope on you!"
Then she decided to try the dry cleaners.
"I need you to tell me if this dress has any magical male discharge on it."
"You mean semen?"
"Keep your voice down! Did you not notice the sunglasses? I don't want people to know about my possibly semen coated dress."
"Why don't you get one of those black light things they use on CSI and check yourself?"
"Now you're being ridiculous! Isn't there some sort of test you can run that won't harm the dress?"
"Honey, if you let some guy blow his load on this dress, it'll never be the same."
"Did you have to say it like that? It sounds so vile."
"Why would a girl like you be having sex with a boy that would cum all over your Oscar De La Renta dress anyway? You're like Grace Kelly."
"Um excuse me, I'm definitely an Audrey Hepburn."
"Whatever. The point is, honey, I'm not running some test on your dress. I'll clean it for you but if you want to know if some boy used this as a target, ask a doctor."
"Let's role-play here for a moment."
"It sounds like you did enough of that last night," the lady muttered.
"I'm Sherlock Holmes. You're Watson. And someone killed a person with their semen. And that person was in this dress. If we find out whose semen is all over this dress, we find the murderer."
"How much semen did this girl swallow? I've never heard of anyone choking on semen."
"It was a hypothetical."
"And you're definitely a Watson. You're way too uptight to be Sherlock Holmes."
"Why do I even try with you people? Give me my dress back!" Rory said, grabbing the dress away.
"You might as well set fire to it. It'll always feel like it's covered in semen no matter what you do."
Always feel like you're covered in Jess' magical little men? Ew. No matter whom the semen comes out of, it should never be worn as an accessory.
Finally, she thought a "cleanse" might do the trick. And no, not a Gwyneth Paltrow cleanse.
"Miss Rory, I don't think an exorcism will solve your problems."
"Greta, I must have been possessed. Rory Gilmore would never let Jess Mariano touch her, much less…"
"But Miss Rory, maybe you're in love."
"Love does not exist. Besides, if I wasn't possessed before, his dick certainly put something in me that needs to be caste out."
"I don't think a priest will perform an exorcism on you because you had sex with Mr. Jess."
"Well then, Greta, what do you think I should do?"
"Talk to Mr. Jess about your feelings."
"I don't have feelings. Oh god Greta, what if I'm pregnant? I can't give birth to the anti-Christ, at least not before bikini season!"
"Well, did Mr. Jess, um, wrap his, you know, special friend?"
Rory grabbed her head. "I can't remember. I can't remember anything. All I know is I want my virginity back."
"Maybe you didn't lose it. What did Mr. Jess say?"
Five hours earlier.
"Well, did we fuck?" Rory asked.
"I prefer to call it making love."
"I would never have sex with you. I hate you." Oh little virgin. You've obviously never experienced the awesomeness that is hate sex. Well, until now.
"Oh I know. I have the scars on my back to prove it. "
"Fuck you."
"I'm going to need some Gatorade if you want to go another round. You fucked all the electrolytes out of me."
Rory picked up the discarded dress on the floor. A size four? Definitely not her, even after one too many croissants from Magnolias. "Where's my dress?"
"Men's bathroom. Downstairs."
"That's impossible. For one, I would never go in a men's bathroom. And two, I would never take off an Oscar original."
"Oh you didn't. I took it off for you. While you worked on my pants. You were a bit tipsy so I had to help you out with the belt. It was so cute."
Rory was trying to wrap her little mind around this situation. "So we fucked in the downstairs bathroom?"
"Once. Then again in the elevator. Then again in here. And then you passed out."
"Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god."
"You should be proud. You're by far my favorite deflowering. Even better than E."
"Wait, you took E's virginity?"
"She never told you?"
"I think I'm going to be sick." And then she fled to the bathroom.
"Do you feel differently?" Greta asked.
"I think I can feel the syphilis eating away at my brain."
"No Miss Rory, I mean, down in your special area."
"You mean am I experiencing vaginal discharge? I googled all the symptoms for Chlamydia and I think I'm safe."
"It is the silent killer."
"What?"
"Miss Rory, calm down. You need to sit. Now, what else did Mr. Jess say?"
"Let's order room service. I need something to soak up all that champagne."
He did work hard. All race horses deserve a snack. Or round two.
"I'm not going to share a meal with you," Rory spat.
"What about a drink? What's your stance on Bloody Mary's?"
Rory stared into the mirror, horrified. "You gave me a hickey? What are you, a vacuum?"
"It's called foreplay. And I think we're equal."
"How do you figure? I'm going to have to wear a turtleneck for a week!"
"I won't be able to be on my back for a week, which is going to put a wrench in my plans with Louise. And Jessica. And Andrea."
"You have a right hand. I think you'll survive."
"What about orange juice and some Advil? You at least need something for your hangover."
Aw, if we were naïve we'd confuse Jess' behavior with that of someone who was in love.
Rory marched out of the bathroom. "Why won't you leave me alone? You got what you wanted. I'm humiliated. Please, go away. You being here only makes this situation worse."
Jess took a step toward her. "Toothpaste."
"What?"
He took another step forward. "Put some toothpaste on your hickey. Wait thirty minutes. It'll keep you from having to rush off to Saks to buy a turtleneck."
"Oh."
"You look good, Gilmore," he brushed her cheek with his lips. "You look real good."
"Thank you."
"See, we can be civil. It is possible." He was dangerously close. One step and he could have her against the wall. "Do you still want me to leave?" he breathed.
She knew she had to ignore his existence. This was so wrong. "Yes."
"Okay. Bye, Rory." And with that, he was gone.
"Miss Rory, he loves you!" Greta squealed
"Greta, stop it. Jess likes virgins. I was a virgin. Now I'm not. He did his job. He really should be a professional devirginizer."
"Was he good?"
"Greta! Completely inappropriate! Besides, I can't remember."
"Not even a little bit?"
"Well, there is one thing…"
Rory was leaning her ninety-pound frame against the door. Like that'd keep him out.
She took a swig from the bottle of champagne. "There is no way you'll get in here, Jess! I win! I win!"
"Rory, you weigh like ninety-pounds. If I wanted to, I'd have you on your back right now."
"Challenge accepted!"
"What?"
"I bet you can't get me on my back by the end of the night."
"Rory, you're drunk."
"Tipsy. There's a difference. I can still walk."
"Rory, just open the door, please. Your grandmother is about to have me thrown out."
"That's hilarious."
"Not really."
"I thought you were a bad boy. Are you a bad boy, Jess?"
"There are normally whips and cuffs involved when I get asked this question."
"You are such a whore, you know that? All the girls laughed when I told them you were my escort. By my calculations, you've fucked every girl under the age of twenty here."
"I get around."
"That's so much pussy."
"See, when you put it that way, it sounds meaningless. I remember most of their names. And if I don't remember their names, I remember their cup size."
"I can't believe I agreed to you being my escort. You're supposed to marry your escort! I can't marry a male prostitute."
With one quick push, Jess had the door open and Rory on her back, giggling.
"Way to spill champagne everywhere, Gilmore."
"You pushed me down."
"You kept calling me a whore."
"I'm sorry. You're a slut. I forgot you didn't get paid."
"Now I know why Logan fucks other bitches," he muttered.
"Do you like me?" Rory asked, out of nowhere.
"What?"
"I mean, I know you said you didn't love me. But do you like being around me?"
"You're entertaining."
"Like a stripper is entertaining?"
"You stimulate me intellectually."
"Have you been stalking me just so you could devirginize me? Taking my virginity would probably be your greatest conquest."
"Um, well…"
"You can have it."
"What?"
"My virginity."
"Give me your hand, Gilmore."
"So you won't fuck me either? First Logan, now you."
"Logan wouldn't fuck you?"
"Nope. I threw myself at him, because I thought that was what he wanted. I acted like a total slut. And what does he do? Slams the door in my face."
"Is that why you kissed me in the elevator?"
"Partly."
"Huh."
"Are you upset? Come on Jess, you're you. I'm me."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I'm supposed to marry Logan. And you're supposed to…"
"What?"
"Try to break up our marriage."
"I am such an idiot!"
"What?'
"You're not like all the others! What I said in the limo, I was lying. You're different. At first, I just wanted to fuck you. But now…I don't know. It's just different."
"Oh."
"That's it? I basically tell you I'm in some sort of like with you and you say 'oh?'"
"You told me you didn't love me! Do you know how hard that was to hear? And then in the limo you told me you were just taking me to the ball so you could fuck me. You said it. And now this?" Rory paused, then ran toward the toilet. "I think I'm going to be sick."
"And that's it. After that, it's all black."
"I know this doctor that specializes in bringing back repressed memories."
"This isn't repressed so much as alcohol erased it."
"But maybe he can do something. At least help you remember whether or not you had sex. It's worth a try, right?"
"Is he discreet?"
"Of course."
"Okay, make the call."
As soon as Greta left, Rory's phone rang. It was Jess.
"What?"
"Whoa, what's with the hostility?"
"I'm pretty sure you did things to me that are illegal in at least twenty states."
"Don't be ridiculous. Only the bible belt."
"So our sexual escapades all over my debutante ball are a joke to you?"
"It's hard to take a night completely seriously that involved you coming out and cumming in an elevator."
"I'm hanging up."
"Gilmore..."
She cut him off. "And if there's a sex tape, I will murder you."
"I can't control what they do or don't record in elevators."
"Oh my god."
"If it makes you feel any better, your performance was very Oscar worthy. I would call you the Meryl Streep of elevator sex."
"Goodbye, Jess."
"Meet me for dinner."
"No."
"Drinks."
"I'm never going to be seen with you in a public place again."
"Then come to my house. I promise I won't try anything. I just need to talk to you."
"Write about your feelings in your diary. I don't care. I have things to do, like get vaccinated."
"Just this once and I'll leave you alone for the rest of your life."
"That's what you said about the kiss in the elevator."
"To be fair, you unzipped my pants first."
"Fine. What time?"
"6?'
"You have ten minutes."
"That's all I need."
Of course there was someone behind this phone call. And that someone was a blonde, cokehead whore that couldn't be trusted around virgins. Or old women that were covered in diamonds and about to kick it.
"See, that wasn't so hard, now, was it?" E said, in her take over the world voice.
"Shut up, E." Jess said, in a tone that made it seem like he hated himself.
"Now just convince Rory you're in love with her."
"Rory's smart. She's not going to run into my arms just because I admit to having feelings for her."
"Oh trust me, she will. This is classic 'Rory is in love with you but doesn't want to admit it' behavior. She did the same thing with Logan in third grade."
"That was third grade. Rory's a bit different. She doesn't eat glue or dream about being the Pink Power Ranger anymore."
"You fucked her, right?"
"Yeah."
"Well then the hardest part is done. To be honest, I didn't think you could get your filthy dick anywhere near her purity without Tiffany's and a pre-nup, so well done, Jess."
"Please, leave."
"Why are you so upset? You got Gilmore's virginity! It doesn't matter what else you do at Chilton. You could accidentally fuck Gellar and you'd still be King."
"God, do you ever shut up?"
"Mariano, get your shit together. You are going to tell her you're in love with her. Then I'm going to tell Chilton about what you two did at her debutante ball while everyone else was still waltzing. And then you're going to tell her it was all just game. And that's how Rory Gilmore commits social suicide."
"You're the devil, you know that, right?"
"Rory would do the same thing if she was willing to prostitute Logan."
"Fuck off."
"I can't believe you actually fell for that bitch. Thank god you're incapable of actually being in a relationship or I'd have to plant some cocaine on her."
"Rory hates me. You didn't see her this morning. She is going to come here and beat me to death with her Chanel boots."
"We'll see. Worst-case scenario, she kills you, then kills herself. Then I just spin it as some Romeo and Juliet shit."
"I'm glad you have a plan in the case that I die."
And then, she appeared, as any folk singer would write.
"Okay Mariano, what's so important that you couldn't just tell me on the phone?" She stood in his doorway. Was she a vampire? Cross the threshold, Gilmore!
Jess didn't say anything. He just grabbed her face and kissed her. He kissed the hell out of her.
Rory stood there, letting him kiss her for the longest five seconds of her life. Then she shoved him into the wall, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
"What the fuck, Jess?"
"You can't tell me you didn't feel anything."
"I'm sure it takes more than ten seconds for throat syphilis to set in."
"Come on Rory. Stop fighting it. You want me."
"How many times do I have to call you an STD infested sloth before it sinks in? I hate you, Jess."
"No you don't."
"Don't tell me how I feel." Rory noticed Jess was slowly making his way toward her. "Stop."
"Stop what?" he asked, not stopping his movements.
"Walking toward me like that."
"Or what?'
She rummaged through her purse. "I'll pepper spray you."
"That's breath spray."
"It'll still burn."
"I'm not scared."
"You should be. I'm a crazy person. I'll spray you. Take one more step and I promise you'll be blinded."
"Nah, I'll just smell minty fresh."
He took another step.
"Jess," she begged.
"I love it when you say my name like that."
"We can't be together."
"When did I say I was looking for anything long term?"
"I'm not going to be your fuck buddy."
He started playing with her hair. "Okay."
"I'm not."
"Noted." He ran his fingers down her arm, making her shiver.
"You're the biggest mistake I've ever made."
"Ouch," he said, without any feeling. He leaned forward, placing a kiss on her cheek.
"I don't like you."
He ignored her, turning his attention to her shirt. It had buttons. Jess loved buttons. He started playing with the first. "Oops," he said, as it came undone.
"I have a boyfriend," Rory said, like it mattered.
"I know," he said, using one hand to undo the next button and the other to slam the door, forcing Rory into it.
"Jess, " she said, breathlessly.
"Rory, you're not wearing a bra."
She blushed, "I forgot."
He smiled. "Right." He had her against the door. She could feel him. All of him.
He finished unbuttoning her shirt and just let it hang off her body. Her heart was ready to rip out of her chest.
"I would never not fuck you."
"We can't do this."
"Why not?" he asked, searching for the zipper on her skirt.
"Side," she said, without thinking. He smirked as he watched her skirt pool at her feet.
"Wrap your legs around my waist."
"No."
"Okay," he said, sliding a hand under her La Perla underwear.
"Jess."
He put a finger to her lips. "Trust me, you'll like it," he said, latching his lips onto hers. She let her lips part slightly, forcing him to smirk into the kiss.
She wanted this.
She began to move against his hand. The most pleasure Rory ever got from Logan was when she put his phone on vibrate and played 'find your phone in my crotch' for his 16th birthday.
Their foreplay would have totally gotten Steve Jobs going.
He pulled away from kissing her. "Done this before, Gilmore?" he asked, because he could never miss the chance to be an asshole.
"No," she struggled out. "Never. Well, maybe once."
"So what are your feelings about the leg wrap now?" he asked, pulling his hand out of her underwear.
Ah, Jess, you can't tease the sexually repressed like that! Especially the newly devirginized.
"It's a bad idea."
Jess wanted her to wrap her legs around his waist so he could turn her around and have her on her back, straddling her in three seconds. He'd perfected this move. He'd also perfected sneaking out of windows right before the angry husband/mother/boyfriend walked in.
He was a talented man.
"It helps with the logistics of it all, Freckles." He pushed her shirt off her shoulders, waiting for her to decide. "You're perfect," he added.
She blushed, trying to figure out how to cover herself since he had her hands pinned to her sides. "I feel a bit underdressed."
He let go of her hands. "It does appear I'm a bit overdressed."
"You want some help with that?" she asked, grabbing onto the hem of his shirt.
"I never turn down a girl that offers to take off my clothes."
Rory pulled the shirt over his head, throwing it into the corner.
"Better?" he asked.
"Not quite." She moved her hands to his belt. "This is like a fucking chastity belt."
"I never understood why mother's want their daughters to wear dresses. It's so much easier for me to push up a skirt than to take off a pair of pants."
"So if you ever have a daughter, she's going to always wear pants?"
"Talking about my future lesbian daughter kind of kills the hot factor of this all."
"Don't worry; I don't plan on producing this fashion cursed offspring of yours."
"Good," he muttered, pushing her back against the door. "Tell me you want me."
"Why does it matter?"
"Because it does."
She started playing with the zipper on his jeans. "I came here with the intention of this being the last time I ever saw you. Not including pointing you out in a police lineup."
"Uh huh." He moved his hands back to her underwear, pulling them away from her hip, teasingly.
She wanted him to touch her. So badly. "Please, Jess. You know I can't say what you want to hear."
"Why not?" He asked, letting go of her underwear and backing away.
"Because we're not supposed to be together."
"Who says?"
"Everyone, Jess!"
"Fuck everyone! What do you want, Rory? For once in your life, do what you want!"
"I don't know what I want."
"Huh," he said. He sounded hollow. He threw her clothes at her. "Get out."
This was by far the most humiliating thing that had ever happened to Rory. Forget Logan's unwillingness to fuck her and throwing her into a wall. New Haven's biggest man whore wouldn't fuck her.
"What?"
"I can't do this."
"This is what you do! You fuck girls and then forget about them."
"I can't do that with you."
Rory didn't want it to end this way.
"I'm sorry, Jess."
"No, you're not."
A sob erupted from her chest. "Please, don't hate me."
He couldn't look at her when she cried. It was all too much. "I can't handle this, Rory."
"I wish I could tell you…"
"What?" When Rory didn't saying anything, he just shook his head. "He's not your Paul."
He paused. "I'm going out. When I get back, please don't be here."
And this time, he was really fucking gone.
As soon as the door slammed, Rory broke down.
Her mascara was ruined.
Ending Author's Note: So I've tweaked my style a bit. It's all a much quicker read since I've eliminated a lot of that side commentary. I know some people enjoyed the snarky asides, but the dialogue popped so much for me in this chapter that I just couldn't see the need to detract from it. It is the heart of this piece, honestly. I couldn't add anything better than the honesty that is bleeding out of these characters, especially in the last scene. So don't hate me for the change. Or do. But at least send the bomb wrapped in chocolate.
So whether or not they had sex at her debutante ball still isn't certain. Did you think it was certain? Did you trust Jess? Oh you silly readers. This isn't me saying he's lying. They might have done the deed. I won't tell...until I decide it's necessary. But if they did do it, do you hate me for not writing that sex scene? Probably. Again, all bombs must be disguised as something lovely. Like Zach Galifianakis.
Reviewers: This boat is sailing because of your love. Don't let the wind disappear beneath my sails or we'll crash and then I'll have to write some terrible Titanic esque final scene that'll make us all want to commit suicide.
Also, I love you. Deeply.
