Rory

Rory Gilmore never acted out, not like this. Out of all the ways she ever rebelled (music, sarcasm, reading), this was new. Ditching the safety of school and running to a strange city was certainly not part of her day-to-day.

It must have been a stroke, yes, that's it, a stroke. Because, this wasn't Rory.

No, this was Rory Gilmore unhinged. Rory Gilmore out-of-depth. An out-of-depth, little girl painted into the scenery of an urban Rembrandt.

Out-of-depth. Out-of-mind. Whatever you wanted to call it, Rory was here now, in the Big Apple. With its towering skyscrapers and bustling streets. It was a canvas painted by a master, and Rory was but a tiny, misplaced figure in the midst of it all.

There was a swirling of disdain in the gusts that met her when she stepped out the doors of the Port Authority Bus Station and onto the busy Manhattan street. The city seemed to sneer at her, as if it could sense her inexperience, just as she sensed its disgust for her.

The contempt was palpable. This city hated her.

But that hardly mattered. Being here was her choice, her quest, and she had to see it through.

She had to see him.

As she stood there, taking in the sights and sounds of the city, Rory realized how vastly different it was from the familiar streets of her hometown.

New York was urban, and thriving, and terrifyingly big. There was so much happening in this little bubble of a city. The complete opposite of her suburban world in Stars Hollow, Connecticut.

Everything is different here, she thought.

The chill of the day seeped into her bones, and Rory couldn't help but feel a little apprehensive. She shivered in the breeze. It was colder today than it should be, but then again, Rory dressed for Hartford, not Manhattan.

Her fingers played with the sleeve of the school sweater nervously.

The uniform was impractical and, not to mention, stuck out like a sore thumb. Still, Rory was thankful for the heat the cardigan brought. The light grey fabric draped down her arms and met her fingertips and, on her left arm, the sleeve concealed the cast on her wrist.

A ghost of his touch flashed in her mind as she remembered that night. The crash had been quick, but he was out of the car and helping her out of the mangled wreck even faster.

How he cared for her. How he cradled her under his arm while they waited for the ambulance. How he dealt with the police, her insurance company, just so she wouldn't have to. Hell, he even called her mom, Lorelai Gilmore. She hadn't answered so he left a message on the machine, but still he called.

It was just an accident. And it was scary but he was so brave. And caring. And held her with a tenderness that made her feel stronger.

It made her feel brave now.

So, shaking off the lingering thoughts, Rory set her sights on her mission: how to find Jess Mariano.

The blue, plaid skirt gently rustled in the passing crowd as Rory gulped down her trepidation, and attempted to stop someone for directions. She vaguely understood where she had to go: Washington Square Park. He had been spending his time there. So, that's where Rory would start.

"Excuse me," she tried but no one bothered slowing their pace. "Excuse me," she tried again and again, "Washington Square Park?"

God, it had only been a few minutes, and this city was already threatening to swallow Rory up. Somewhere in the depths of her heart, Rory registered a light tingling that told her to go left and down the street, but she ignored the sensation, still pestering the native New Yorkers for directions.

"End of fifth," one woman said as she briskly passed her and rejoined the sea of people.

"Left," a tall man with a black sweater said, pointing for emphasis, and Rory smiled for the first time since arriving. Her inner compass was right. Maybe she wasn't as helpless as the city seemed to think.

That tugging in her heart, it was pointing to truth north and with a new found confidence, Rory turned left and walked down the street.

The disregard of her presence on the busy pavement created an anxiety that bubbled around her and up the sides of the tall buildings. This was another one of those stark contrasts between New York City and Stars Hollow.

There were many so far, not that she was counting.

In Stars Hollow everyone knew her and her whole life's story. But in New York no one knew Rory existed. And it made her feel helpless, like she was stumbling along to find her feet and was unsure of what may trip her on the way.

At home every path had felt the soles of her shoes before. Every stone, or upturned root, was memorized by repetition. But not in New York. No, here, Rory was walking into something new with each step. And Rory was but a lost fawn in the urban wilderness, learning to walk the path alone for the first time. Bambi making her way down the street towards the Big Bad Wolf.

Okay, maybe she was mixing fairytales.

But, the point still stood. Rory was running towards the bad influence everyone warned her about. The one everyone said didn't care about her in return. Right into the arms of Jess Mariano.

How'd you know he'll even be there? A voice, one that sounded eerily like her mother, nagged in her mind.

There was the possibility this pilgrimage was for nothing. That breaking the rules for the first time in her life was all a useless crusade of rebellion. But, it was the tether that kept her going. The invisible rod reeling her down towards something. Something great.

Or, maybe it was luring her to her metaphorical death, Rory didn't know yet.

All the same, she craved it. Needed it. And, when she turned onto Fifth Avenue, she felt it with a force that made her hair stand on end. The electricity in the air, the excitement, the unknown. The tension turned and took a new form.

There, just across the street, was the park.

Her auburn hair picked up in the wind as the traffic blew passed in the intersection, and Rory tucked the unruly strands behind her ear just as the stoplight switched, allowing her to walk. The cars honked on the surrounding streets. The percussion of the horns, both close and off in the distance, kept time as Rory's feet carried her into the park.

The greenery was old nature and filled the square with a serenity she had not expected of the urban centre.

I can see why he loves it here, Rory thought. This place was beautiful but also had a layer of grit that embodied the jaded pieces of his soul. The darkness that he relished in. Green and lush and surprisingly well kept. But, at the same time, dark and quiet and hesitant.

There was a group of teenagers skateboarding in the recessed, emptied fountain. A man and his wife were walking their dog down the garden path. The arched monument was being admired by some tourists, while vendors sold souvenirs from the tables set up under the shadow of the attraction.

All these storylines were painted in the tableau that played out before her.

And, it all meant nothing without him painted into the scene.

No, she had a mission. She had a purpose and a specific something to find. Well, more like a specific someone to find. Jess was Waldo hidden somewhere in the pages of this park.

And, he had to be here. He just had to.

With determination, she glanced around for that familiar mop of dark hair.

The trees were towering above her head, but unlike the buildings that threatened her before, the trees were inviting her in rather than intimidating her out; urging her further, encircling her in the peace of the earth. Her skin prickled, just as it had when she left the station, and Rory must have looked frantic. Standing in her spot and searching around desperately.

Then there on the bench, she saw him. Book in his lap, flipping through the pages of his newest literary obsession.

"Jess," she sighed with relief.

Her voice was but a whisper on her tongue. The plea of his name carried off with the wind and vanished within an inch of her lips. There he was, the boy who left without a word. Without so much as a goodbye. Who crashed her car and into her life with a fire she didn't know she needed. A warmth she didn't know she craved. And a trust that was kismet.

Her fate. Jess Mariano was her fate.

Her destiny was right there, sitting on that wooden bench. Gone from this world and fallen into the pages of that book. Reading so intensely that it mirrored her own secret power.

Rory felt the pang of guilt reverberate in her chest. Dean Forester, the first boy she ever loved and loved her in return had once said the same about her. That he had 'never seen anyone read so intensely in his entire life.'

Well, here's proof that someone else could, she thought and cursed herself as the bitterness crushed the air out of her lungs and left a sour sting on her tongue.

Rory was the one in the wrong here. She was chasing a guy, that wasn't her guy, and she knew this. Rory knew she was a terrible person because of this very moment.

In this park. Watching the bad boy brood into the pages of that beat up novel.

But Jess had yet to notice her. So, she could run from the firestorm that he embodied and back to the gentle rainstorm that was Dean. She could take this moment to run back to Port Authority, back onto a bus home, and back to the sheltering of Dean's arms under the canopy of the town of Stars Hollow.

If Rory wanted, she could hide from the flames by dousing herself in the seclusion of her hometown. If she wanted, she could squash the guilt in her right now.

But, Rory was frozen.

Unmoving. Rooted in place. And guilty of wanting to touch something pure, raw, and blistering.

Do I want to go back? She asked herself.

No, a voice whispered back, speaking the hidden truths of her soul.

Rory watched as the hand not holding his book rose to scratch the back of his neck before dropping on the bench's backrest. Jess's fingers were tracing a pattern on the grains of the wood as he continued to read. And, for the first time since she spotted him, Rory breathed, bringing new life and heat into her lungs. It washed away everything except for the calm movement of his fingertips.

So, what are you waiting for? The voice whispered again.

And with that, everything was forgotten.

Dean was forgotten. Her mom was forgotten. Stars Hollow and the safety of the small, stifling town evaporated. The suffocating clouds of protection fanned away by the blaze that radiated off of Jess as he read quietly.

Rory cared for none of what she knew before. Not one tiny atom.

Jess flipped to the next page of Tom Wolfee's The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test. The soft cover was folded, the spine clearly worn in.

He was perfect. Focused. Deliberate. Determined. And Rory was so happy to just see him, that it made her almost burst into tears right then and there.

It was like a magnet force she had no control of because suddenly her feet propelled her forward again, her sneakers lightly tapping on the ground as she moved towards him. She gingerly approached, reeled in again by his siren song and finally stopped behind his bench.

"Hi," Rory's voice was soft. It sounded like the opening note to a symphony just being written; a delicate tease of melody. The first spark in the inferno.

She was suddenly unsure of what to do with her hands.

Without a hint of surprise on his face, Jess smiled into the pages. Maybe he didn't hear her? Maybe he was so engrossed in Wolfe's work that he completely missed the wisp of her greeting. The upturn of his lips, the way he continued to read. God, maybe, just maybe, Jess didn't want to see her at all. Not really.

Her heart-raced, her head swirled, and Rory was tempted to run once more. To bolt back to the station and get away from his rejection. But she couldn't.

Through the miles between them and the space between dreams, Jess had called to her. His deep, calm voice sighing out Rory's name. So, Rory answered him. Now, it was his turn to answer back.

And boy did he.

"Hi," he said.

Two letters. That's it. That's all it took. Two letters and the happiness exploded in her chest.

Jess turned, his arm still resting on the backrest of the bench but his fingers stilled their movements, and Rory's breathing hitched as Jess looked up at her.

His eyes, hazy dark and warm honey, and so beyond anything she had ever seen before, were locked with hers. It stoked the blaze, keeping it alive, heating her face and cheeks with a soft blush. If he was surprised to see her, he hid it well behind his guarded walls.

But, not his happiness. She could see that clearly.

The people back home would say Jess was trying to corrupt her, he would ruin her and take her to her doom. But that wasn't here in his eyes. No. Just trust. And a tenderness to her rebellion. A tenderness that Jess reserved just for Rory.

Only for Rory.

So, Rory came to find him. She needed to find him.

And here Jess was.

And he was real.

And he was here.

"You hungry?" The question was simple and slid past his lips easily. Like he had practised this reunion before. His smile mimicked hers. Not as wide, as Jess would never smile beyond a smirk, but he did now. A real honest to god smile, and it rocketed her to the clouds.

Her heart fluttered, feeling a brightness radiate through her veins to the very tips of her toes. Bliss. The fog that had fallen over her life cleared, and she was happy for the first time since he left Stars Hollow on a bus back to New York City.

"Starved," she nodded.

"Good, I know a place." With that, he stood and walked around the bench with Rory falling into step beside him. The two of them walked out the park and down the city streets. He furled his forgotten book tightly, moulding the cover into a tight twist and pushing it into the back pocket of his jeans before clasping his hands behind his back.

The late spring's afternoon sun was starting to peak out as they walked down Waverley Place away from Fifth Avenue.

The city seemed to part for them, like Moses splitting the sea; Jess commanded this place. Rory was out-of-depth before, but with Jess next to her, she was beginning to blend in. The sky felt bluer, the sun felt warmer, the buildings no longer loomed overhead. Instead everything was electric and life and encompassing.

She didn't even know where he was taking her, but this unwavering belief told her everything. That wherever they were going, she would love it.