Crash

Jess's scholastic performance had waned after Liz sent him his things and plummeted after Uncle Louie's funeral. The door back to New York had closed indefinitely, and his mother's cold abandonment had affected him more than he let on to Luke. His teachers, however, took no notice and seemed to have collectively decided that he was going to be a problem. They began to either ignore him or actively provoke him, so he matched their energies tit-for-tat. He soon grew bored of this, though, and since what he had experienced of life so far told him that people were relieved when he was absent, he had started to spend most of his school days not in school. Occasionally, he would be hit with a stroke of mischievous brilliance, like the thing with the baseballs, but he was surprised by the total lack of consequences to any of his behavior so far. There had been no communication between the school and Luke as far as he could tell, so he was genuinely nonplussed when Luke suddenly interrogated him about how he was doing in school. It was so far into the year that Jess knew there was little hope in bringing his grades up enough, and Luke's questions about his future made him panic and lash out ruthlessly. After taking one last dig at his uncle, Jess left the diner, kicking himself for it. It was a reflex, and the words had come out before he'd had control of himself. He didn't want to think about the future, didn't like having to grapple with the fear that clouded his brain when he did think about it. Liz had never paid attention to his schoolwork, had never cared when teachers called to talk about him and his behavior, no matter how much it had escalated. By the time he'd made it to high school in New York, he had given up on trying to get his mother's attention by acting out in school and had also been fortunate enough to have teachers who reached out to him, but here in Stars Hollow he felt as though he were going backwards, and he did not know how to react to Luke pressuring him to suddenly correct everything that had been ignored for seventeen years.

As he walked back into the apartment later, he was still trying to figure out how to apologize and, at the same time, wondering if he would even be able to. He was surprised, then, that Luke didn't seem angry at all when he walked through the door.

"Ah, Jess, hey, I uh, I'm glad you're back."

"Really?" He had meant for it to sound sarcastic, but, to his horror, it had come out in the genuine tone that had first echoed in his head.

"Yeah, I talked to Rory earlier about your school situation."

Jess felt his face get hot with anger or embarrassment; he couldn't decide which. Probably both. School was important to Rory, and she was probably not impressed by his academic failure. He stared at Luke and raised his eyebrows. A silent question hung in the air.

"And I asked her if she'd tutor you."

Jess' eyebrows had not moved.

"...and she said yes."

"Huh," Jess muttered and looked at the floor.

"For tonight."

"Well, ain't that a treat."

"Yeah, you know, you two seem to get along okay, and she does so well in school, I thought it was a good idea."

He bit his tongue to avoid saying anything else that he would regret. After a moment, he asked what time she'd be there.

As he sat in the diner later with Rory, he thought about Luke's reasoning in asking Rory to help him. He understood that it would look good on paper, but Luke clearly hadn't clued in to the intensity of Jess's crush on her and how it would derail any attempt to focus on schoolwork.

After spending an hour on history, Rory gave it up for a bad job and decided to switch to his English class. They were studying Othello, so she asked him to write down a passage that exemplified the theme of jealousy in the play, which he pretended to do. As he wrote, he noticed that she was studying his hands, and when he cleared his throat and cocked an eyebrow at her, he almost laughed at the guilty way she averted her eyes. She turned back to the textbook in front of her, her face flushed. A few minutes later, he put the pen down and handed her the paper. He watched, amused, as she realized that what he'd written wasn't Othello, but the lyrics to a Clash song. After she correctly guessed which one, he went to the window to look out at the cars parked nearby. He suggested going for ice cream and was surprised by how quickly she agreed, though her condition was that he would continue to study in the car.

Jess drove them to the ice cream shop, and Rory doggedly read him Othello. He tried to break her concentration by repeating Iago's lines in a terrible Gilbert Gotfried voice, but she would not be dissuaded. He finally gave in and discussed the play with her for a few minutes until she was satisfied that he understood enough of the themes to get through an exam on the topic.

When they parked and got out of the car, the evening began to take on date-like qualities. He opened the door for her, had to stand close to her in the line since it was a hole-in-the-wall kind of place and tiny, and paid for her double scoop of coffee ice cream. He made another attempt to stall by asking if she wanted to sit inside and finish their ice cream, but she refused and pushed him back out to the car. When he made her take the wheel and steer while he got his dripping ice cream under control, she threatened him with death. He laughed.

"You're not gonna kill me. Think how dull your life would be without me."

They looked at each for a moment and felt the atmosphere change.

"Serious question?" she asked.

"Okay."

Uh-oh. Here it comes.

"You know you're smarter than most everybody at your school. It takes you like five minutes to finish a book. You read everything, you remember everything, you could ace those classes easily. Why don't you?"

He clenched his teeth and avoided looking at her, unable to answer. There were so many reasons. Where should he start? When he didn't answer, she continued.

"You don't need a tutor. It's crazy that they're talking about leaving you back."

"Whatever," he answered, hoping it sounded nonchalant, but knowing that it was a word he used often to deflect away from any conversation that touched a nerve.

"You can do anything you wanted; you can be anything you wanted," she said forcefully.

"Rory," he said, a slight edge of warning in his voice.

"I…is it like a cool thing?" she asked, half teasing.

"I could care less about being cool," he said, pleased that this was an adjective she associated with him.

"Well, inform me, please."

"I'm never going to college. Why waste the time in high school?" he said, barely skimming the surface of the many reasons why he was flunking his senior year.

"And why aren't you going to college?"

"Please," Jess scoffed.

"What? Please what? Why is it so crazy?"

"Ask my mother, she could give you a couple reasons. Oh, and I'm sure Principal Mertin can chime in with a few good ones. And, y'know, not all of us come from people who can help with tuition," he said, smiling at her to take the bite out of his words.

"Do not give me that whole 'I'm so misunderstood, Kurt Cobainy' thing. You are way stronger than that, and I don't even wanna hear it. And have you ever heard of scholarships? You have to go to college," she said with an air of finality.

"No, you have to go to college," he said

"But don't you have any plans?"

"Yes," he said quickly. "I plan to get out of Stars Hollow."

"And go where?"

"Wherever," he deflected again.

"And do what?"

"Whatever," he said, knowing she would mock him.

"Wherever, whatever," she drawled, mimicking his voice.

"I'll live where I live, I'll work when I need money, and I'll see where I end up," he said, giving her the vague answer that he'd given himself a thousand times. People lived that way, he thought. Many of his favorite authors, in fact, and he was smart enough to figure it out. But, as usual, he only felt half-reassured by these thoughts.

"You could do more," Rory said.

"Oh, here come the pompoms," he said with a laugh.

"No, no pompoms, just me saying you could do more," she said seriously.

There was a pause as he tried to grapple with the conflicting reactions that he was having to what she had said. A large part of him discounted all of it off hand, out of habit. A smaller part of him was turning it all over, considering her words. She saw him in a different way than everyone else.

"So, Courtney, what about you?" he finally asked, deciding he would mull over her pep talk later.

"What about me?" she asked with a laugh.

"What are your big ambitions?" he asked.

"Harvard," she said, almost self-consciously.

"And after Harvard?"

"I'm gonna be a journalist." The way she said it was endearing, like a small girl saying she would be an astronaut when she grew up.

"Paula Zahn?" he asked.

"Christiane Amapour," she corrected.

He raised his eyebrows, surprised. "You're gonna be an overseas correspondent?"

"Yes, I am," she said.

"You're gonna crawl around in trenches and stand on top of buildings and have bombs going off in the background and civil wars raging all around you?" he asked, a note of doubt in his voice.

"What, you don't think I can do it?" she asked.

"No, I do. Just sounds a little too…" he trailed off, not wanting to finish his thought.

"A little too what?" pressed Rory.

"Just…sounds a little too rough for you," he said regretfully.

"Well, it's not a little too rough for me," she said, lifting her chin. But then she faltered. "…I hope it's not a little too rough for me, I've been talking about this forever. I mean, I don't even know what I would do if…"

Jess recognized the signs of someone about to let their anxiety get the better of them, so he interrupted her quickly. "Hey, I didn't mean to freak you out. I'm sorry. I'm sure you'll do it. You will, I promise. I'll help you practice, okay? Tomorrow, you'll stand in the middle of the street, and I will drive straight at you screaming in a foreign language."

"Well, you're gonna have to learn a foreign language first," she laughed, reassured and enjoying the idea of him helping her.

"Well, it's lucky I've got me a tutor, isn't it?" he asked, glancing at her.

There was a brief pause as they both became lost in their own thoughts, but then Jess noticed the time. "Okay, so I guess we should be getting back. I did promise to study if you went on this ice cream run with me," he said.

"Yes, you did."

"Okay, so I just go straight, and we'll be back at Luke's."

"Good sense of direction," she observed.

"Of course, I could turn right and then we'd just be driving around in circles for awhile," he suggested with a sidelong glance.

Rory fidgeted in her seat, torn. "Turn right," she said after a moment, giving in to what she wanted.

"As you wish," he said, smiling victoriously.

Twenty minutes later, Jess swerved to miss something black and furry, lost control of the car and crashed into a light pole. When he opened his eyes, adrenaline quickly gave way to panic.

His head whipped around to the passenger seat. "Rory? Rory, are you okay?" he asked loudly.

She looked at him, dazed. "Yeah, yeah, I'm okay. My arm hurts a little, but...are you okay?"

"Let me see your arm," he said as he reached for the arm that she was cradling against herself.

Rory winced as he pulled her arm gently away from her chest. He let go quickly and looked at her, his eyes dark with worry.

"We should call an ambulance. And the police. But I don't have a phone. Do you have a phone?"

"No, but I-I'm pretty sure I'm fine."

Jess had gotten out of the car before she'd finished talking and helped her get out of the passenger side.

"We're not far from Luke's. I'm going to go call from there and then I'll be right back, okay?"

"I–okay."

Rory watched him as he ran towards Luke's. When he disappeared in the dark, she stood away from the car, staring at it and the large dent in the grill. Anxiety was bubbling up in her stomach. Dean was going to be furious. Her mother was going to lose it. And Jess…

Tears started to form in her eyes. She brushed them away quickly when she heard sirens approaching. Jess came running back to her side. He was out of breath and seemed to be bracing himself for something.

"I'll talk to the police. I was driving, so…", he trailed off before adding, "The ambulance is on its way. Are you sure you're okay?"

He stood looking at her, tense and unsure, and she nodded, smiling at him sadly. She'd never seen him like this, all pretense gone. She could see the worry and fear in his dark eyes, and she was briefly distracted trying to decipher what color they were. Somewhere between dark honey and hazel. She reached out with her uninjured arm and took his hand gently.

"I'm okay," she murmured.

She was suddenly struck by the tears she saw forming in his eyes, but he looked away so quickly, she thought maybe she'd imagined them.

The ambulance and a police car arrived then, so he walked with her towards the flashing lights. He waited by the ambulance until the EMTs confirmed that Rory was okay. His stomach dropped when he heard the word 'fracture.' She needed a cast, so they were going to take her to the hospital. He felt nauseous and asked them again if she was okay. When they said yes, he finally turned around to explain what happened to the police. They took his statement, he dug Rory's insurance information out of the glovebox, and he gave them the number for Luke's apartment. The police were still talking to him while Rory was helped into the ambulance. They made eye contact when she turned to sit down, and she thought that she had never seen anyone look so alone. He kept his eyes on hers as they shut the doors and didn't look away until the ambulance disappeared down the road.

Jess didn't know what to do when the police finally drove away. It felt wrong to go back to Luke's. He didn't want anyone to see him. He looked at his shoes and kicked at the ground a few times until he finally turned and retreated to the bridge.

He sat down in the same spot he had shared with Rory on a better day and pulled out a cigarette and his lighter. The dim reflections in the movement of the water caught his eye, and his vision started to blur. His thoughts were confusing, jumbled and desperate. He felt hot tears start to fall, and it felt as though it was happening to someone else. The sound of footsteps crunching through the gravel of the path that led to the bridge shook him out of his reverie, and he hastily wiped his face. The only other person besides Rory who knew about his attachment to this place was Luke, so he didn't even need to look up. The footsteps approached him slowly and came to a stop behind him.

"I made sure she was okay," said Jess, his throat tight, his voice raw.

"I know you did," said Luke gently.

Luke sat down next to Jess. They were silent for several minutes.

Jess finally choked out, "We were just driving, and then something ran out into the road, and I…"

"It was an accident. You and Rory are both alright, and that's all that matters."

After another minute, Jess broke the silence again.

"I'm going back to New York." He said it as a statement of fact so that there was no room for doubt or questions.

Luke let that hang in the air. There was no reason to ask why. He knew why. His fury at the town and at Lorelai was useless, but he wasn't sure what to do about the sudden sadness he felt.

"Okay."

Luke stood up and offered Jess his hand to help him up. He took it, and Luke pulled him up and hugged him before he had a chance to resist.

"It wasn't your fault," he said gruffly.

Jess shrugged as Luke let him go and though he tried, he couldn't get any words out around the lump in his throat. Luke motioned towards the end of the bridge, and they started to walk back towards the diner. Once there, Luke watched as Jess packed up and made sure he hadn't forgotten anything important. When Jess had everything he needed, they walked to the bus station together.

"Call me when you get back. I'll send your stuff whenever you want. Just, y'know, let me know," said Luke as they approached the bus that would take Jess back to New York.

"Thanks, for uh…thanks," said Jess lamely.

Luke gave him a small nod and a smile. Jess turned and got on the bus. He arrived very late to the door of Liz's apartment. He knocked and, after a moment, heard the sound of the lock turning, but the door didn't open. When he opened the door himself, his mother was nowhere to be seen. The smell of cigarettes hit him like a brick wall. He stepped inside quickly, threw his stuff on the ground, and sat down on the ratty couch that had served as his bed for so many years. He was too exhausted to think anymore, so he let himself fall backwards and soon fell into a fitful sleep.

His mother gave him the cold shoulder for the next few days, only acknowledging him when she glared in his direction. How she could possibly be angry at him was beyond his understanding, but she had never been a rational person. He finally decided that she was just deeply unhappy that he was back, so he resigned himself to spending the majority of his time outside the apartment and really only went back to sleep.

He was walking around the neighborhood the week after the accident when he passed a payphone and finally gave in to the desire to call Rory, figuring that if her mother answered, he could just hang up. The conversation was short, but it was enough for him to make sure that Rory sounded fine from the other end of the line and not like she was angry. When Jess hung up the phone, he shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket and walked away. He had thought that calling would make him feel better, but hearing her voice on the other end of the line had made her feel so close for a moment that now he felt her absence even more acutely.

A couple of days later, Jess was sitting in Washington Square Park, reading, when he heard Rory's voice behind him. His head popped up quickly, but he didn't turn around immediately. He couldn't have possibly heard Rory's voice. He was going crazy. He turned his head, and his smile widened when he saw Rory standing behind him.

"How ya doing?" he asked by way of greeting.

"Good, how about you?"

"Good," he said, unable to stop smiling. He looked at her, standing in the park, in New York City, in her school uniform, and asked, "You hungry?"

"Starved."

"I know a place," he said. He stood up and led the way.

As they walked, Jess was relieved to find that conversation came as easily between them as it always had. They ate lunch, caught the subway, and spent some time in his favorite record store, all of which she seemed to be delighted by, which in turn delighted him. When it came time for Rory to get on the bus to go back, Jess considered turning around and leaving without another word, but he had to know. She had cut class, gotten on a bus and come to a city that she was not familiar with to do…what? Hang out with him for a couple of hours? Why? He watched her through the glass and walked alongside the bus as she chose a seat until he was standing outside her window.

"Why did you come here?" he asked.

She opened the window, not having understood what he said.

"What?"

"I said, why did you come here?"

"Well -"

"I mean, you ditched school and everything. That's so not you. Why'd you do it?"

"Because you didn't say goodbye."

She smiled at him, but he couldn't bring himself to smile back.

"Oh," he said with a nod. "Bye, Rory."

She smiled softly at him. "Bye, Jess."

Later that night, Jess stared up at the ceiling, unable to sleep. He couldn't stop thinking about Rory's face when he'd said goodbye. Her smile had seemed sad, but there was something else underneath it that he couldn't identify; a secret or a lie or…what was it? She had to have broken up with Dean to come all the way to New York to see him. He squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't believe he was thinking what he was thinking. He was going to go back.

The next week, Jess was standing back in Luke's apartment, surrounded by his things, which he'd been pleased to see were not back in boxes. He heard the apartment door open and braced himself. His uncle grilled him about why he hadn't called and why he was back until Jess finally admitted that he wanted to come back.

"Why?" Luke asked sharply.

"I just, I…"

Jess trailed off, unable to voice why he wanted to come back. Of course, Rory was prominent in his thoughts, but he had also missed Luke and the apartment. He tried to say it, but seventeen years of learning that these kinds of thoughts made him vulnerable forced his teeth to clench together tightly. He couldn't. He couldn't say any of that out loud.

"I just wanna come back," he said finally.

Luke made it plain that he had a hard time accepting this, and Jess looked around, avoiding Luke's gaze. Everything Luke had said was true, and Jess had no way to respond. He walked around Luke, deflecting attention to his stuff.

"You didn't pack up my stuff yet," he said after a moment.

"Uh, no, I've been a little busy," said Luke.

"When were you planning on sending it back to me?" Jess asked.

"What, hey, am I wearing a little brown uniform with UPS stamped on it?" his uncle asked defensively.

"So, what do you think?"

"Things are gonna have to be different, Jess."

"I know," said Jess sincerely.

"...Okay," Luke said finally.

"Okay?" Jess was surprised.

"So you're staying?"

"I'm staying," Jess confirmed.

"Okay, then. Stay. I gotta get back to the diner."

"I'll help you close up later, all right?" Jess offered.

Luke looked at him, surprised. "Sure."

He watched Jess start to turn toward the door to leave and added, "She's not home."

Jess paused. "Who?" he asked.

Luke ignored that. "She's at Sookie's wedding with Dean, they're still together. They seem to have gotten through the whole car incident. They're doing really good, Dean and Rory."

I wouldn't be so sure, he thought. But all he said was, "Good."

"Just leave it alone, Jess. She's got a boyfriend. Just let it go."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just going out for a walk."

To find out if that's true.

"You heard what I said?"

"Yeah, I heard what you said," Jess said, irritation creeping back into his voice.

And I'll have an update for you when I get back, he added silently.

Jess left Luke's and considered where in this tiny town a wedding could happen. The gazebo and church were within view and seemed to be deserted.

The only other place…the inn.

He pointed himself in that direction and started to walk, the excitement he felt at the prospect of surprising Rory marred slightly by the muttering of the various townspeople he passed on his way. This town knew how to hold a grudge. He distracted himself by thinking about how he could get to the inn and see Rory without crashing the wedding. He decided to go by way of the lake and wait for a glimpse of her on the edge of the grounds. For one, there was tree cover and for another, he was sure the wedding and the inevitably large group of wedding guests would stay within a few hundred yards of the food and booze, which meant that at this distance he was unlikely to be spotted by anyone who wished him bodily harm. Still, he had come to a stop in front of a small pond, conveniently located near a rundown shed that he could duck into if need be.

He stopped planning escape routes when he heard voices approaching. He turned and saw Rory walking down the path nearby with an older man. Jess felt his pulse quicken as the man walked away and Rory turned around. The feeling in his stomach as they stared at each other was strange and unfamiliar, and he wondered briefly if Rory was experiencing the same thing. He smiled as she walked towards him. She looked so good in blue.

"What are you doing here?" she asked by way of a greeting.

"Hello to you, too," he said, his eyes soft and searching.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, and she seemed worried.

"You look nice," he said.

"Thank you. What are you doing here?" Rory asked again.

"I moved back," he said,

"What?" she said, her eyes wide.

He wondered briefly if she was upset by this news or just surprised.

"I moved back," he repeated.

"But…what…why?" she stammered.

"Just…wanted to."

The look on her face had made him feel even less effusive than usual, but as they stared at each other, he saw something happening in her eyes. A storm was rising there, and she looked torn. He stayed silent, unwilling to interrupt. Suddenly, she reached for him, and her lips were on his, gentle but urgent. Electricity crackled through him as he moved his mouth gently against hers and briefly took her face in his hands. She smelled like rain and small, green, growing things, and she was soft and close. He reached for her waist to pull her closer when he suddenly felt her pulling away from him.

"Oh my God…" she said softly, and then again more loudly, "Oh my God!"

"Rory…" he said, confused. What? What had he done? What happened?

"Don't say a word!" she said quickly, staring him down.

Wha–why?

He quickly began to connect the dots.

"Okay," he said.

She's still with him. How is she still with him?

"I have to go," she said as she turned to run away. "Oh, welcome home!"

He stood rooted to the ground, tangled in the mess she had left him in and unable to move.