Chapter 2
"Rory, don't take this the wrong way, but you really need to lighten up."
Chapter 2: The Fountain Fiasco
"Paris." Rory leaned down over Paris's bed and shook her arm lightly.
"Go 'way," Paris mumbled, slapping feebly at Rory's hand.
"Paris, just tell me, have you seen my blue boatneck shirt?"
"Mmghfmm," was Paris's response as she rolled on her side and dragged a pillow over her head. Rory sighed, admitting defeat. Paris had been at the professor's until five that morning, and Paris Gellar on five hours of sleep was not something Rory really wanted to tangle with at the moment.
She crossed the small room they shared--it was larger than where they lived freshman year, but still remarkably akin to a prison cell--and opened her closet door. Staring at its contents, Rory weighed her possibilities. She really wanted that blue shirt, damn it. Sure, she could wear something else, but now all she'd be thinking about while trying to study was where the stupid shirt could be. Making a noise of frustration, she selected a gray short-sleeved top at random and threw it on. Plopping down on her bed, she grabbed her cell phone from the nightstand and pressed 1. She propped the phone between her ear and shoulder as she pulled on her socks and tennis shoes. Her motions stilled when she heard a distinctly male voice on the other end.
"Hello?" the voice growled. After her initial shock, she realized it was Luke. Answering her mom's cell phone. At ten on a Saturday morning.
"Uh...hi Luke." She heard shifting on the other end of the line--was he getting out of bed?
"Rory?"
She dropped her voice so she wouldn't disturb Paris. "Yeah. I was, uh, just calling to ask Mom something. She there?"
"Um, give me a second, she's not in the room--nope, the Jeep's gone, she must have gone to the Inn already. She left her cell phone here on accident, I guess."
"Right. And you—" Rory started awkwardly.
"Right. Well, Rory, I..."
"You stayed there last night," she finished flatly.
"Yeah. Anyway, Cesar's opening the diner today, and I think I might be coming down with something, so I slept in longer than normal. Look, I know--"
Rory cut him off. "Luke, it's fine. I better go, I'll call Mom at the Dragonfly. Thanks." She drew in an unsteady breath as she ended the call. Luke. At their house. On a Saturday morning. She didn't want to think about why that was so weird to her, but it was. He was the first male to stay over since Max, and Lorelai had nearly married Max. Did that mean anything? Rory didn't know. But she did know that all of a sudden, the four walls of her dorm room seemed awfully confining.
Standing up, she began to walk over to her desk, but tripped over her untied shoelaces. Right, Gilmore. Tie, then walk. A minute later she was out the door, shoes firmly tied, messenger bag filled with textbooks. She intended to head to the library, keep up with the grand Rory Gilmore tradition--start the psycho studying as soon as possible.
She was already in the courtyard before she remembered she had planned to call Lorelai at the inn. Might as well, she inwardly sighed as she grabbed her phone from her bag.
"Dragonfly Inn, Lorelai speaking."
"Hi Mom."
"Hey, stranger." Rory could hear the smile in her mom's voice all the way in New Haven, and for some reason it irritated her beyond belief. She's happy from all the sex with Luke, no doubt, she thought sourly.
"So I called your cell."
"Which is at the house. I forgot it this morning." After a moment of silence, Lorelai sighed. "Luke answered?"
"Yeah. Pity, too. I don't think he'd be able to tell me if I left my blue top at home."
"Look, babe, I was going to talk to you about that."
Rory leaned against one of the buildings surrounding the courtyard. "Why should you? If you want to have sex with Luke, that's fine. Make sure I get an invitation to the wedding."
"I thought you were cool with me and Luke, hon. You knew this was happening."
"Well technically, no, I didn't know this was happening. I knew there was kissing, I guess I should have just assumed sex was the next step."
There was a sharp intake on Lorelai's end of the line, and Rory instinctively knew she'd gone too far. Part of her didn't care. "I can't have this conversation with you right now, Rory. I will call you tonight."
"Fine." Rory angrily ended the call, staring at her cell phone with all the venom she could gather. Helplessly, she dropped her hands to her sides and looked up at the sky, swallowing hard against the tears that threatened to spring to the surface. "Damn it," she whispered angrily, slapping her hand against the stone wall. She knew that had been her fault. She just didn't know exactly when things with her mom had gotten so, well, weird. She knew why—oh, she knew why all too well—but she couldn't pinpoint the exact moment. Had it been the careless "I hate you" she'd thrown at Lorelai that night that had done it? It was possible. Probable.
I'm fighting with my mom, my best friend, and it's all my fault. Fantastic. Pushing herself off the wall, forcing the tears back before they could spill over, she stalked in the general direction of the library.
In truth, she didn't care that her mom was seeing Luke. She knew he would make Lorelai happy. She knew that when it came to that mysterious combination of LukeandLorelai, some things just couldn't be questioned or denied. This had been a long time coming. Sure, it was weird to call her mom and get Luke instead, but that wasn't why she was upset. So the question was why she'd just bit Lorelai's head off if--
"Rory!" She stopped and turned her head to see Marty jogging to catch up with her.
"Hey, Marty."
"I called your name like four times," he said, coming to a stop in front of her.
"Sorry," Rory replied. "I'm sort of out of it today."
"Where are you headed?"
"Library," she replied shortly.
"Mind if I walk with you?"
Groaning inwardly, Rory nodded and fell into step with him. The last thing I need is to make pleasant conversation with some guy I barely know, she thought sullenly.
"Actually, I'm glad I spotted you. I can't find my syllabus for Brit Lit."
"And?" she snapped irritably.
He slid a concerned glance in her direction. "And I was wondering if you could tell me the reading for--" he broke off. "Rory, are you ok?"
"Huh? I'm fine."
"Because you seem like there's something wrong."
She sighed impatiently. "There's not." They passed a large fountain, the wind blowing some fine mist on Rory's arms.
"I think you're not being honest," he said, still looking down at her with that concerned look in his eyes. It was pissing her off.
"I think you're just being pushy," she shot back.
"Plus, you look like you didn't get much sleep--"
"Oh, go throw yourself in the fountain," Rory exploded bitterly. She took a few more steps before she realized Marty was no longer with her. Looking over her shoulder, she saw him still standing beside the fountain. Oh, crap. "Marty..." she said warningly.
Marty smiled at her wordlessly before nimbly jumping up onto the ledge of the fountain.
"Marty," Rory said, walking slowly back to where he stood. "Um, I was joking about the whole fountain thing, you realize."
He shrugged. "Nice day for a swim, anyway. Don't you think?"
"Tell that to campus security when they catch you! Come on, just get down." She nervously glanced over her shoulder.
"Rory, don't take this the wrong way, but you really need to lighten up."
"Oh, you can bite me."
Grinning down at her, he extended his hand. "Come on. See what the world looks like from up here."
"It's two feet off the ground. I'm guessing the world looks just about the same."
"Your loss," Marty shrugged. He bent down to untie his shoes.
"You're not serious," Rory said disbelievingly.
"I told you, nice day for a swim." He straightened up and kicked one shoe off. It bounced on the concrete and was closely followed by the other.
"People are staring."
"Well then, you'd better get up here soon, or the shirt's coming off. You and I both know that's not a pretty sight." He cocked an eyebrow, daring her.
She knew she should just walk off, let him add Crazy Fountain Guy to his list of embarrassing nicknames. But he was baiting her, the jackass, and she really wasn't in the mood to be baited. Rory exhaled an irritated breath, laid her bag on the ground, and stalked to the fountain. Ignoring Marty's outstretched hand, she climbed up onto the ledge. Crossing her arms, she glared at him. "I'm up. Happy?"
"Almost." Before Rory realized what was happening, she felt a shove at her elbow and felt herself teetering precariously over the fountain. Swearing under her breath, she reached back and grabbed Marty's arm just before she tumbled into the water, taking him with her. They both landed unceremoniously on their behinds, the water splashing up around them and over the sides of the fountain. The students that had stopped to watched the spectacle clapped and catcalled to the drenched pair.
Pushing her wet hair out of her face, Rory turned to Marty. "Do the men with the straightjackets know about you?" she yelled harshly. Placing her hands on the bottom of the fountain, she struggled to stand up, hindered by her wet clothing. Marty got to his feet--with no trouble at all, she noted sourly--and grabbed her arm.
"Rory." She turned to face him, prepared to rant at him for tossing her in a fountain, of all the ridiculous things, but the look in his eyes stopped her. He smiled and all of a sudden, looked like the shy boy she'd met outside of her dorm the year before. "I thought you should maybe cool off," he said endearingly.
He looked so earnest. She wanted to be angry with him, but somehow she felt only a weird sense of gratitude. It had been far too long since she'd done anything so, well, silly. A small laugh escaped her lips. "Cool off. Nice use of the pun, there."
"So, she does have a sense of humor." He motioned to the group with a jerk of his head. "Let's take a bow for our public." Grabbing her hand, he turned to the crowd and bowed, complete with an elaborate hand wave. When they laughed and cheered, Rory rolled her eyes and gave a wave of her own, accompanied with a small, dainty curtsy. "We're a hit," he said, grinning down at her.
"We're also busted if we don't get out of here."
"Fair enough."
They sloshed to the ledge and climbed over it, Rory allowing Marty to assist her back to the ground. Her tennis shoes squished loudly on the concrete as she walked to pick up her bag. "Not fair," she grumbled, watching him roll off his wet socks and put his perfectly dry shoes on his feet.
He straightened up, pulling a hand through his wet curls. "Hey Rory, did you just curtsy back there?"
Oh, if there was ever a time for the withering stare..."Hey Naked Guy, slept in any good hallways lately?" Her lips curled into a Cheshire grin when his face went ashen. You know, blackmail can be awfully useful at times.
He swallowed uncomfortably, scuffing his foot on the concrete. "Let us never speak of it again."
Grabbing a hair elastic from her bag, she pulled her hair off her neck and secured it in a wet, messy ponytail. "No comment on the curtsy and you've got yourself a deal."
"Agreed." He smiled gratefully. "You're in Calhoun, right? I saw you in the dining hall the other day."
"Yup, I'm in Calhoun."
"Me too. Can I walk you back?"
"Sure."
They walked across the campus in silence, the only sound coming from Rory's squishing tennis shoes. Rory had to inwardly laugh when they walked by a professor who stopped in his tracks to watch the two wet students slosh by. "My life is so weird," she muttered.
"Right there with you." He tilted his head inquisitively as they walked on. "You're free to tell me it's none of my business, but is everything OK? You seemed all bad-moody before the fountain fiasco."
"Fountain Fiasco. Good name. I think we should make t-shirts." She laughed awkwardly. "Everything's fine. I had just talked to my mother, that's all."
"Ah." He stopped. "Wait. Not 'ah'. Aren't you one of those freakish kids who actually likes her mother?" She nodded. "So why would talking to her make you so upset?"
Rory sighed. "Believe me when I tell you, it's a long story."
"One you would prefer not to share."
"At the moment, yes."
"Say no more." They walked on.
After a few more minutes, Rory spoke up quietly. "The fountain helped, oddly enough."
"Good."
"Just don't make pushing me into fountains a habit, okay?"
"Hey, I make no promises." They reached the residence hall. Marty turned to Rory. "Can I buy you a cup of coffee?"
"What?"
"To make the fountain thing up to you."
"Marty..." Rory fiddled with the strap of her bag. "See, the thing is, I haven't been having the best luck with guys lately."
"Well, you're in luck, because I am not a guy." He paused. "Not actually the sentiment I was going for."
Rory nodded, trying not to laugh. "I figured."
"Look, it's just a cup of coffee. I pushed you into a fountain, it's the least I can do."
"Yes, it is," she replied mock-sternly. What the hell, she thought. It was a viable alternative to spending the afternoon holed up in her room. "Why don't we both go change into some dry clothes, and then I'll take you up on the coffee idea."
"Great." Smiling down at her, he reached to open the door. "I may even throw in some biscotti to cover the whole Brit Lit incident."
"Brit Lit incident?"
"Your to-do list, with the pen streak and the--look, do you want free biscotti or not?"
She nodded and grinned up at him as she walked through the door. "Biscotti makes up for all number of sins, my friend."
Posted by Carrie on 06:52 PM