LAST TIME
+_+_+
"Jess," her voice was unsteady. "Can I talk to you?"
Alicia knew what she had to do.
+_+_+
"Paris…" he started. "Sh-she cheat- cheated…." With that he burst into a new round of tears and collapsed on Rory's heard wood floors.
+_+_+
Author's Note: Okay, so usually, I never do the "Last Time on Yadda Yadda Yadda" thing, but I felt it needed it here. Sorry I missed updating, but my mom took my computer away for the day. She said that holidays were meant for family... not for writing. But I (always the clever one) found a notebook (I'm on vacation, so finding one was harder than you might think) and wrote this.
Again, (I'm repeating) don't get used to this whole updating almost everyday thing. Once school starts (Jan 6), I'll be lucky to post once a month. So, savour this while it lasts.
Enjoy!
Forget about Flashing Forward, Let's have a Flashback
2:43 in the Newsroom
Someone else's eyes, someone else's arms
Someone else's obvious moves
Alicia's moves were careful as she walked towards Jess. She plotted her words, carefully planning where to place which phrase, when to offer the comforting touch on the shoulder. Although, she could tell by now that she wasn't going to need to do anything.
"What's up, Leece?" Jess asked.
She took a deep breath, steeling herself. She knew that this was what both of them wanted; but even so, she'd never been good at ending relationships. It all came out in one breath.
"Jess, we've had a lot of good times, and believe me when I say that I wouldn't trade those times for the world, but I just don't think that we are going to work out because I am leaving come summer, and you and I just aren't clicking like we used to, and I really hope we can still be friends because if we aren't, working together on the paper won't just be unpleasant, it'll be a nightmare."
Jess took it in, soaking up her words, analyzing their meaning. He looked at her, and smiled.
"I guess that means we're good," Alicia said, also smiling.
"Yeah," Jess said in reply, "we're good."
Alicia walked into her office, and Jess walked to his desk. Joanne approached from his left.
"So," she began, "you and Alicia over?"
"Yep."
Joanne raised her eyebrows. "Don't sound so distraught about it."
Jess looked at his hands, and then at Joanne. "That's just it," he said, another smile surfacing, "I'm not."
"Well," Joanne harrumphed. "You were too short for her."
"Gee Jo," Jess laughed, "thanks."
Joanne picked up a rough draft on his desk. As she looked through it, she started, "But you know who you would be the perfect height for?"
"Who?"
She said nothing, only set back the rough draft back on Jess' desk. Jess picked it up, and smirked, reading over Rory's perfectly crafted paragraphs.
One Hour and Fifty-Seven Minutes
Later in Cambridge, Massachusetts
Jaime was on the phone with Rory, regaling her with his plans for the evening.
"So," Rory's voice was excited through the phone, "what did she say when you told her you were coming up?"
Jaime grinned, even though he knew that Rory couldn't see him. "That's the best part," he laughed. "I didn't."
"You didn't tell her?" Rory's tone had changed. She was panicked now.
"No," Jaime said, "she's always complaining about how unromantic and boring I am. This is going to really surprise her."
On the other end of the line, Rory was pacing. "You didn't tell her… Oh my god. Jaime, you should really call her. Do it right now. Hang up with me and call her."
"Rory, calm down." Jaime's voice was the opposite of Rory's: cool, calm, and collected. "It will be fine. I know Paris isn't one for surprises, but it's not like I'm going to see her doing something illegal or stupid. I mean, it's Paris. Everything is going to go just as I planned it."
"Fine. What are you two going to do?"
Back in his car, Jaime was messing with the radio, trying to tune it to Paris' favorite station. "I have a reservation at Chez-Moi."
"Snazzy."
Jaime had just crossed the Cambridge limits, and pulled into a floral shop—if he was going to take her to a romantic dinner, he needed to buy her flowers. "Rory, what flowers should I get Paris?"
"Oh Jaime, you big softie."
"What kind?"
"Daisies. White with yellow centers."
"Great." Jaime asked the florist to bring out a dozen of her best daisies. He paid and brought them out to his car. "Paris is going to like these," he told Rory, still on the phone.
"She'll love them," Rory said, "just as much as she loves you."
Jaime smiled, and placed the bouquet carefully on the passenger seat. As he straightened up, he noticed a couple, making out against a car. "Oh, nasty."
"What?" Rory asked, interested.
"An old geezer has got some young hussy up against a car."
"Dirty, but seriously?"
"Yeah," Jaime continued. "They're really going at i-." Right then, the couple changed positions. Now he had a clear view of the 'young hussy's' face.
Rory's concerned calls of, "Jaime? Jaime, are you okay?" could be heard until the phone crashed against the concrete.
Rory redialed Jaime's cell, frantically punching in the familiar number. It went straight to voicemail. "Oh god," Rory said to herself. A hundred horrible situations went through her mind: Jaime mugged, Jaime beaten, Jaime a bloody smear on the pavement. Then, she stopped herself. She left a message on his voicemail, telling him to call her back. And she waited.
Then she thought.
First about Jaime. Then about Paris. Then about the mess that Paris had gotten herself into over the past month. Then about messes in general. Then her mind landed on Jess, if not for obvious reasons, simply because "Jess" rhymed with "mess."
It was then that Jaime came to her door and poured his heart out to Rory, describing in gut wrenching detail how he caught Paris in the act, telling her how he had known deep down that something was going on.
Rory did what any good friend was supposed to do in this situation.
She listened.
Jaime stared at his shoes. "I loved her so much."
She commented.
Rory patted Jaime on the back, "She isn't good enough for you, Jaime. Forget about her. You can do so much better."
And she did what has always been the most crucial thing any friend can do:
She got him drunk.
"Slut!" Jaime slurred. "Nothing but-but a stinking slut. No good Har-Harvard trash!" People at the bar were staring, but Jaime didn't care.
Rory was sitting next to him, sipping a beer. Duncan's was just off campus, and was the favorite Princeton hangout. This favor was partially due to Duncan's amazing potato skins and readily available pool tables. Most of it was because Duncan's didn't check IDs.
Jaime ordered a scotch, neat of course. It was his eighth. "Rory," he looked at her, his eyes wide with what some might perceive to be innocence. Rory knew they were just dilated from excess alcohol. "Paris never did love me, did she?"
Rory stared sadly into his jade eyes, and started to speak, "Of course she-"
Jaime cut her off. "Of course she didn't!" He looked up at the man next to him, whom Rory recognized as a member of one of Princeton's prominent fraternities. "Women," he said to the Delta Tau.
The Delta Tau nodded, adding, "What are you going to do?"
"Order another scotch!" Jaime banged his hand against the bar's warped wooden counter. "Bartender, I'll have one more, if you don't mind."
Jaime leaned against Rory's small frame. She half carried him to her car and drove him to his dorm.
With Rory's help, Jaime managed to get to his door. He was zoning in and out of consciousness, and Rory hammered on the door, hoping that Jess was home. Please don't let him still be with Alicia, she thought.
Jess opened the door, wearing nothing but his boxers. Rory's face immediately reddened, but Jess made no show to cover himself up. Rory struggled to keep her eyes off of his stomach and chest.
"Jaime," she said, her voice unsteady, "he's a little-"
"Women suck, man," Jaime burbled, opening his eyes slightly.
"He's wasted?" Jess asked, feeling like Captain Obvious, but needing conformation.
Rory nodded, still somewhat transfixed by his near-nakedness.
Jess took Jaime, wrapping his arm around his shoulders, supporting him. Rory stayed just outside the door, watching as Jess laid Jaime on a dilapidated couch pushed up against a wall.
"I'm gonna make some coffee," Jess said to Rory. "God knows he's going to need some. Do you want a cup?"
Never one to refuse free coffee, Rory nodded mutely.
"You can come in, you know." Jess smirked, noticing how Rory seemed glued to the door frame.
Rory blushed again. "Right." She took a step inside the suite and closed the door behind her. Jess walked into what Rory presumed was his bedroom, and emerged a minute later wearing a t-shirt and jeans. She followed him into a small kitchen off the main room.
"Nice place," she commented.
"Hanging with upperclassmen has its perks," Jess said. He busied himself with making the coffee. The two stood there in the kitchen, a comfortable silence washing over them. A delicious aroma finally brought Rory to speak.
"Oh my god," she said, dashing over to the almost full coffee cup. "That smells heavenly."
"It's just coffee."
Rory smiled, opening the cupboards looking for a cup. "I'm calling God to let him know there's an angel right here on earth."
She poured herself a cup, and brought it to her lips. But, she paused before she took a sip. "Why do you have coffee in your kitchen if you never drink it?"
"Jaime buys it," Jess said dismissively. Rory continued to stare at him. "Just drink the damn coffee."
Rory sipped. And her eyes grew wide.
"This is the best coffee I've ever had. It tastes exactly like- but no." She swallowed once more. "Oh my god. You're Luke."
Jess put his hands up to his chest. "Me. Jess. Me no Luke."
"I don't mean it like that," Rory swatted at him. "I mean that your coffee tastes just like Luke's."
Jess rolled his eyes. Rory continued to drink her coffee. Another silence settled over the kitchen, but this time it was Jess who broke it. "I have an uncle named Luke."
"Really?"
"Yeah," Jess went on, "he sent my mom money sometimes. You know, at Christmas. Or my birthday. I never really knew him-- don't even know what he looks like."
"Oh," Rory said. "Do you wish you knew him?"
Jess stared thoughtfully at Rory's empty cup. Grabbing the pot, he refilled it. "Sometimes I do," he said. "I used to wish that he would come and take me away from my mom. Especially when I was younger."
Rory sat down on one of the kitchen's two stools. Jess joined her. "So, your mom didn't have a lot of money?"
Jess shook his head. "Nope. And any she did come across was instantaneously squandered on alcohol or drugs."
Not sure of what to say, Rory placed her hand on Jess' forearm. They stayed like that for what seemed like an hour. In reality, it was only three minutes and forty-six seconds.
"How are things going with Alicia?" Rory asked, repeating her question from early that day.
"They're not."
She looked into Jess' eyes. "I'm sorry."
"I'm not," he said. He rested his hand over hers, still on his arm. Rory licked her lips. Jess leaned in and their lips touched. Fireworks exploded behind his eyes, and she felt as if a foghorn was blasting inside of her chest. The kissed lasted for only two seconds. When they parted, it took a moment for their hearts' beating to regulate.
"That was," Jess started, but Rory crashed her lips onto his before he could finish his sentence.
Author's Note: I suck at writing kissing scenes. I'm just not good with that whole mushy-gushy-lovey-dovey crap. I really tried to draw this moment out. I hope it's okay.
"For me, it's about writing the character more than writing the action the character is preforming. Anyone can write action. It takes a real writer to write character."
---Liz McGregor
That's a quote. From me. You know, if I ever write a book and become a famous author that people actually want to quote... There it is. It's even in those snazzy quotation marks... :)
