Rory slammed the door to her locker closed with a resounding bang that echoed down the
crowded hall way. Paris gave her a looked of contempt as she stalked out of the building.
Rory shoved her way past the students meandering out of the school before her. She had a
horrible day and was dieing to get home as fast as possible.	

Rory practically ran the rest of the way to the bus stop. She flung herself into her seat and
leaned against the back, her body slouched in defeat. Her back fell off the bench and into a
muddy puddle. Dirty water began to seep into her books and papers. Rory let out a cry of
frustration as she grabbed the bag from the puddle. She shook it furiously to rid it of the
excess water. Suddenly her book flung out of the open front pocket and land, pages down,
in the puddle. 

Rory screamed out in anger at her own horrible luck. She stared down at her ruined book.
The brown water crawled up the once pristine white pages. Warm, salty, tears began to
run slowly down Rory’s slightly red cheeks. She sniffled when she realized her book was
ruined. There would be no more insight into the mind of Oscar Wilde today, and no more
in the future, at least no more until she could buy a new copy. That wouldn’t happen
anytime soon, she was broke. 

Rory left the book in the puddle, not caring anymore, as she saw the bus approach. She
waited at the curb her head reviewing her own sorrows. Rory failed to notice the large
puddle in the road before her. As the bus pulled up the tires sent water splashing onto her
legs, and spattering her clean plaid skirt. Rory closed her eyes in annoyance, couldn’t
anything turn out for the better today. The driver muttered an apology as she climbed on
the bus. Rory plastered a fake smile on her face and seemed to wave off the accident. In all
truth she was steaming mad. She plodded her way to the very back of the bus, once again
slouching into the seat.

She stared out the window, silent tears creeping down her cheeks. Every now and then
she would furiously try to wipe them away, but they always returned. Each time she
thought they were gone, new tears would spring anew when she recalled her day.

The past hours of her life had been the worst she ever had. First she had woken up later
than normal, which caused her to be late for school. She thought she had slide into class
without the teacher noticing, but to no avail. Ms. Marx seemed to have eyes in the back of
her head. She gave Rory a five page essay on Einstein’s theory of relativity that was due
on Monday.  

In another class she didn’t have her homework, this was a result from her hurried rush to
get to Chilton Hell on time. She recalled seeing the papers sitting on the kitchen table
where she had left them the night before. Her careless mistake resulted in her grade being
allowed no higher than an 80.

Then in another class she had forgotten all about a test. When the exam landed on her
desk Rory all but screamed. How could she forget a test? That was so unlike her. She
took the exam, drilling every bit of economics she could remember out of her mind and
onto her paper. Rory had turn in the test after everyone else, she was sure she had failed.
The feeling of unpreparedness was so new for her. 

Rory hoped to find some solitude from her pain during lunch. All she wanted to do was
eat her salad, drink her coffee, and read in peace. Alas that was not to be as well. On her
walk to her table someone had tripped her. Her tray went flying. Her coffee flew one way,
land on the floor in a sickening thud, the pure caffeinated delight spreading rapidly across
the floor. Her salad had flown another way. She turned just as a seething Paris stood up,
bits of lettuce and carrot dangling from her hair and clothing. Rory had mumbled a quick
apology to Paris before dashing out the cafeteria. As the doors closed behind her she
heard applause erupt from the student body, the sort of applause that was only given to
the biggest klutzes.

She tried to seek sanctuary in the library, but was kicked out because of teacher’s meeting.
Rory ended up sitting outside her next class, waiting for it to begin. She stood by the door
as the bell announced the new period. Rory hid her face as a few students passed her. She
could hear their snickers about her as they walked. As her dull luck would have it this
class went no better than her other three.

Rory was ready to bang her head on the desk when the teacher announced that it was time
for the mid-year group project. Her head did make contact with hard wood desk when she
found out that her partner was none other than her mortal enemy Tristan DuGrey. It was
like fate was laughing her in the face. When their names were announced Tristan turned
around to face Rory, his eyes made contact with hers and he winked. Rory grimaced in
return.

After class Tristan tried to corner her before the next period, but she avoid him with skill.
Or so she thought. She made it through her next three classes unscathed, but when school
ended she found Tristan stationed at her locker. He was leaning casually against it, a smirk
upon his lips.

“Mary.” He looked her over. “You’re looking rather delightfully today.”

“Not today Tristan.” Rory shoved him away from her locker, he staggered back a few feet
before regaining his balance. He sauntered the few feet back to her.

“What was that?” He brought his head in closer to hers, his lips almost in her ear.

“I said not today. I am in no mood to verbally kick your ass right now. I don’t have the
mental capacity to separate right from wrong today, and my depleted conscience will not
keep me from punching you in the face right now. So I suggest, for your own safety, that
you back away from me before I send my locker door flying into your face, and busting
that pretty boy nose of yours.”

Tristan looked at her in shock. That had always fought with each other, but never had her
comments contained such passionate anger. Tristan held up his hands in defeat as he
backed away.

“Have it your way Mary, you’re going to have to talk to me later. That current events
project won’t get done on its own.”

“I know that Tristan, just don’t talk to me today. I’m seriously homicidal at the moment,
and the picture of your mutilated carcass hanging from power line is all to tempting at the
moment.” Rory then jammed the last of her things into her back before slamming her
locker door shut. The look of sheer fear on Tristan’s face was real. He gave her one last
forced smirk before turning on his heal and walking quickly down the hall.

A large tear traced its way down Rory’s cheek as she recalled that moment. She hadn’t
meant what she said, ok, well at that moment she had, but now, she felt nothing but regret.
She would have to apologize to him come Monday. Even a jerk like Tristan didn’t deserve
what she had said to him.

At her stop she flung her bag over her shoulder and exited the bus. The walk home was
cold and lonely. The chilly autumn wind whipped at clothes and stung her face. The dry
fallen leaves crunched under her feet as she made her way home. She struggled to climb
the porch. All she wanted to do was collapse into sleep and never wake up again.
Rory unlocked the front door. She grabbed the mail out of the box before opening the
door. Once inside she flung the mail on the table. She almost screamed when she saw her
homework on the table. Rory shed her coat and bag on the floor before flinging herself
into bed. She final sobbed into her pillow. Her muffled cries echoing through the house. 

The only good thing about today... it was Friday. She wouldn’t have to suffer any of the
consequences of today until Monday. At least... that was what she thought.

***

The warm autumn sunlight crept across the floor of Rory’s room. The threshold between
light and dark silently moved deeper into the room. Each passing moment bought the day
closer to its victim. Rory slept on, blissfully unaware of the encroaching morning. The
light consumed her bed, it’s fingers reaching towards her face.

Rory was aware, even in her state of slumber, that she suddenly felt warmer. She
subconsciously welcomed the heat, snuggling even deeper into her covers. Rory was
content to lie in bed all day, but that was not possible. The sunlight finally reached her
eyes. Rory blinked a few times to adjust to the glare, before slowly sitting up in bed.

Her tired hands rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Rory glanced out the window. It was a
perfect day. The birds were chirping gleefully as they flew through the air. The leaves
rustled slowly to the ground as the light breeze blew them down from the trees. A scowl
crossed Rory’s face. This was a perfect day that she couldn’t enjoy because she was still
grumpy about yesterday.

Rory angrily threw the covers aside as she climbed out of bed. A frown marred her face
showing the anyone who looked at her exactly what she felt. Her feet thumped loudly
against the hard floor as she plodded her way to the kitchen. 

“Morning darling... wait, make that good afternoon.” Lorelai’s voice came from the living
room as she looked up from her magazine. “I’ve never known you to sleep this long.”

Rory’s only response was a deep groan of discontent. She continued on her journey to the
coffee pot. The deep black mixture still gurgled as it dripped through the filter. Rory
smiled on the inside. No matter how bad her weeks got she could always look forward to
hot coffee on Saturdays. Rory grabbed her “Saturday” mug from the cupboard and
proceeded to pour herself a cup of dreamy goodness.

Rory sighed in relief as the hot liquid caressed her empty stomach. She snatched a pop tart
from its box before slowly walking to the living room to join her mother. Lorelai watched
her daughter as she crossed in front of the coffee table before she sat on the other end of
the sofa.

“Bad day yesterday?” Lorelai cocked her head to the side.

“You have no idea.”

“Try me.”

“Rather not, this is one of those days that are so bad you don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well you know where to find me when you do want to talk?” Lorelai ran her hand along
Rory’s shoulder in a comforting fashion. “Besides, I’ll weasel it out of you soon enough.”

“Mom.”

“What? You are my daughter, we share DNA. I know how you think, because you are me
thus making me you, and if I were you, which I am, then I know that I would be able to
weasel the information out of me, meaning that I will weasel it out of you.”

Rory felt as if her head was spinning from her mother’s train of thought. Lorelai stared
back at Rory with an aura of complete confidence in her logic.

“Mom.... you lost you after DNA.”

“I can go over it again.” Lorelai was about to start in again but stopped when Rory stood
up.

“No, I’d rather not hear it. I’m going to do some homework.” Rory sipped her coffee mug
as she headed back to the room.

“Okey-dokey.” Lorelai’s voice called after her. 

Once in her room Rory grabbed her backpack off the floor. She proceeded to pull the
contents out of the sack and onto her bed. The pile of work seemed much larger than
normal. The stack of books teetered precariously closed to toppling off the bed. Papers
were strewn about haphazardly. Rory let out a sigh of stress before diving in.

***

Lorelai heard her daughter scream from downstairs. She darted out the door and down the
stairs and almost slammed into a disgruntled Rory.

“What’s wrong honey?”

“I’ve had it.”

“Had it with what?”

“Everything. Not only do I have more work than normal, but I don’t get half of it. I’ve
never not gotten anything. This ticks me off. I wanted a calm, hell free weekend, and what
do I get Chilton’s version of house arrest.” Rory paced back and forth as she rattled off
her problems. “What I need is a stress free day, and I won’t get that anytime soon. God,
even coffee isn’t helping.”

“You mean the miracle elixir is failing you?”

“Yes.”

“Oh dear... this is bad.” Lorelai looked shocked, coffee had never failed a Gilmore girl
before. “How much work do you have left?”

Rory seemed be steaming. “Just one essay.”

“Only one?” Lorelai asked again.

“Just one..... why?” Rory could almost see the manipulative gears turning in her mother’s
head.

“Ok, be a bum and put it off till tomorrow. Tonight we have fun. Me, you, Willy Wonka,
and a ton of junk food. Sound good to you?”

“Heavenly.” Rory almost drooled at the prospect of no work.

“Good I’ll go get the movie and candy you get the...” The phone began to ringing,
interrupting Lorelai’s comments. She picked up the handset, which was surprisingly on the
recharger. “Gilmore Fun House how may I serve you?... Sookie hey doll.... how are
you?... what?.... you’re kidding me... you have to be... Sookie I really... Rory needs a
night off, can’t you.... it can’t be that bad... no I can’t come.... fine. I’ll be over in a few
minutes.” 

Lorelai tossed the phone onto the couch. Her eyes raising from the floor to meet her
daughters. Lorelai was prepared to give her daughter the bad news but Rory spoke first.

“Go.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“Rain check?”

“You bet.”

“Ok, I’ll be late... you do work tonight and I’ll hurt you. Watch a movie, be a bum, but
whatever you do.. NO WORK!”

“Ok mom. Go, sounds like Sookie was desperate.”

“I’ll be back.” Lorelai grabbed her coat and was out the door.

Rory shook her head thoughtfully, couldn’t anything go her way. It was then she noticed
the blinking light on the answering machine. She must have missed the call earlier. Rory
pressed the button and prepared to hear a telemarketer, but that was not what she got.

“Hi Rory, it’s Madeline. Look I know were not huge friends and all, but I was just calling
you to invite you to this party I’m having tonight. You don’t have to come, but I just
thought it would be nice to have you there, despite what Paris says you’re not that bad. So
show up or not, Party’s at 8.” The message continued with directions to Madeline’s
house. Rory was stunned, a party... a Chilton party... maybe she should go. For where
there were Chiltonites, there was always entertainment, there was nothing more interesting
then watching people be fake all evening. 

Rory contemplated the decision for all of two seconds before heading to her room to get
ready. After leaving a note to her mom, she grabbed the keys to the Jeep and was out the
door. Maybe a night of being around mindless socialites would do her some good.

***

The party was already in full swing when Rory parked her car in an empty spot on the
driveway. She took a deep, calming, breath before swinging her bare legs out of the jeep.
The pale blue skirt of her dress blew about her legs in the light breeze of the night. Soft 
clicks of her heels echoed through the night as she walked to the front door.

Rory was on a mission. During the drive to the party Rory decided that tonight she wasn't
going to have a care in the world. Tonight she was going to have fun, whether it be with
Chilton's snobs or not. Tonight she would be a carefree teenager. But before that could
>happen she would have to put Part A of her plan into action first. Find Tristan and
apologize for her earlier actions.

Rory was about to ring the doorbell when the door flew open in front of her. She
staggered back a few steps as a few drunken teens stumbled out into the night. Rory
peered into the house through the open door. She was slightly frightened by the large
crowds of people she saw inside. Her instincts told her to turn around, that no good would
come of being at a Chilton party, but she pressed on.

A few people gave her stares of astonishment as she walked through the entrance way.
Rory’s eyes darted across the room nervously. Any eye contact made with another human
being did not last long. 

The house was gigantic, but the rooms seemed small, too many people to little space.
Rory pressed herself against the wall in an attempt to pull away from the thronging
masses. Music blared from speakers that seemed to surround the house. The walls seemed
to vibrate with sound and laughter. Somewhere off in the distance Rory could make out
faint splashes, the party continued on into the pool.

The small space around her seemed to close even more. Were the walls attempting to
crush her? Her head spun with confusion about what to do.

Why hadn’t she brought Lane with her? This would have been so much easier if she had.
Maybe it would just be easier to leave now. Tristan’s apology could wait. Rory turned to
head for the door.

“Rory?” The question came from a female voice a few feet away from where she stood.
Rory looked up and her eyes landed on Madeline, the hostess. “Wow, I didn’t think you’d
come but I’m glad you did.”

Rory nodded silently in response, her eyes drifting to the hardwood floor.

“Who’s this Madeline?” Rory looked up when she heard the new voice.

“Zach this is Rory. Rory, my boyfriend Zach.” Madeline beamed at Rory.

“Rory. Nice to meet you welcome to the party.. However you can’t officially be apart of
the crowd until you....”

“Zach, she doesn’t have to.” Madeline pushed her boyfriend’s hand away from Rory. In
his grasp was a shot glass that seemed to appear out of nowhere.

“...until you drink this.” Zach continued on despite Madeline’s protest. He held up the
glass to Rory. She took it from him. The liquid was a deep yellow. Rory had no idea what
it was, some form of alcohol would be her only guess.

“Rory you don’t have to drink this. Zach can be an idiot, an adorable one, but an idiot
none-the-less.” Madeline looked at her sympathetically. Rory still stared at the glass.
Drinking was not a normal activity for her. What harm could come from it? She was a
teenager, she could be reckless and daring. Besides, if she was going to stay around,
perhaps the alcohol would get rid of the pesky feelings she was having about talking to
Tristan.

To her surprise, and Madeline’s, Rory downed the shot in one gulp. The bitter liquid stung
it’s why down her stomach, but Rory felt the satisfaction of being a rebel.

“Welcome to the party Rory.” Zach shook her hand before slipping her arm around
Madeline’s waist and steering her away. Rory set the glass down on a nearby table. She
surveyed the room with new determination. 

Her eyes landed on Tristan. He was leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the
room. His arms were crossed and he did not look happy. A scowl was etched upon his
face. Rory wanted to wrap him in a hug, that was a new feeling for her. Tristan and
hugging, bad idea, yet somehow utterly appealing.

Rory was not thrilled with his attitude. She began to make her way over to him,
determined to accomplish what she had come here for. Something in her made her back
away though. A nervous feeling mixed with something else. Rory continued to back up,
right into a table. Her hands shot out to steady herself. Something wet slid around her
fingers. 

She turned her head to see what she was touching.  Her steps had ended up backing her
right into a beverage table. Every type of liquor available seemed to be on that table. Rory
looked back over at Tristan. Anger seemed to radiate from him. A friend moved to talked
to him, but Tristan merely brushed by and fled into another room.

Rory looked, down at the table. One more drink couldn’t hurt her.

***

Tristan pushed himself away from the wall in disgust. Normally at parties he would come
alive. Not tonight. His thoughts were still on Rory and the comments she had made a day
earlier. Out of the corner of his eye, a female figure caught his eye. He turned his head
slowly, focusing on the person. Rory. She had backed herself into a table, the glasses on
the top clinking together.

Tristan quickly pushed himself through the crowd attempting to make his way towards
Rory. Every step he made forward didn’t last long as he was pushed back by the dancing
group. Just as it seemed that he would make it to Rory, a friend of his dragged him out of
the crowd. Tristan let himself be pulled along, but no after seeing Rory down a shot of
liquor.

From that instance on, the night seemed to move in slow motion. Tristan smiled at his
friend Kevin as he paraded him around the house, pointing out new girls, and future
conquests. Tristan went along with it, not wanting to be rude. This was the part of his life
style that he hated. Having to pretend he was content to be the ever-popular rich play-boy.
Few knew that inside all he wanted was to be accepted for who he truly was, but who
could do that, when he never showed the world his true self.

Tristan was finally able to slip away from his friend to spend a few minutes to himself just
sitting in the main room, taking everything in. People watching was something he loved,
but rarely got a chance to do. His deep blue eyes drifted from person to person, each
movement they made imprinting itself in his brain. 

It was in these moments that his eyes landed once again on Rory. All night his thoughts
had been on her, like they normally were. There was something about this girl that drew
him in. He knew she was beautiful when he first laid eyes on her. Then as he “got to know
her” he found her beauty continued down to her soul. Even through all their sparring
engagements and down right insults, he never once could get over how beautiful she was.
Inside and out.

There was something different about her tonight. She was mingling, Rory was actually
immersing herself with the crowd. That was not normal for her, at least with the Chilton
crowd. She was smiling. Rory rarely smiled at school, and never genuinely smiled when
Tristan was around. Right now though, she wasn’t just smiling she was beaming. Her
expression lit the room, and Tristan’s heart.

Tristan’s eyes once drawn to her, did not want to leave her figure. She was dancing in the
crowd, surrounded by his classmates. She had no idea how attractive every male in school
found her. She was the forbidden fruit, and just one hello from her received chorus of
congratulations from their male counterparts. Now she was dancing among them. There
would be some gloating done tonight.

Tristan slumped back into the couch. Rory, no matter how good of a mood she was in,
would never like him. To her, he was nothing but her tormentor and sometimes debate
partner. That was all their relationship would ever be. Tristan’s eyes roamed her face.
Something was different, or than the smile. He felt that something was wrong.

A thought dawned. The drink. Tristan recalled that earlier that night he had seen her down
a shot. Memories of that night came whirling back. All throughout his escapes he recalled
seeing Rory, always just a few feet away. But now, he remembered that everytime he saw
her she had a different drink in her hand. Not a single one appeared to be without alcohol.

Tristan suddenly became quite fearful for Rory’s safety. His friends were like vultures
when it came to women. They would lay and wait and then we they sensed that the victim
was off guard they would strike with overwhelming force.

Rory was definitely at a weak moment now. Tristan knew that she had never been drunk
before, it just wasn’t like her. He knew that he had to get her out of that crowd before
something happened to her. She was just to perfect to be used like that.

Tristan knew that he had to move, but he felt tied to the sofa. What would happen when
he went up to her? Would she yell at him for ruining her night? Would she ignore him?
Would she follow him? And what, if he got her off the dance floor, would he do with her?

Tristan made up his mind, that even if in the end she hated him even more he had to get
her away from his vulture-like friends. Before he could move though an arm pulled him up
off the sofa. His eyes followed the slender fingers gripping his wrist, up a delicate white
feminine arm, over a highly kissable neckline, before landing on a beautiful face. Rory’s
face.

Tristan sucked in a breath when he saw her smiling at him. Her white teeth sparkled. Her
eyes shone. She radiated happiness. She looked more beautiful know than he had ever
seen her. Tristan felt his heart leap when she pulled him closer to tell him something.

“I’ve been looking for you all night. I need to tell you something.” Her angelic voice slid
into his ear.

“OK.” The only words that would come out of his mouth.

“Not here... too loud... come with me.” Rory tugged on his wrist and pulled him across
the room and up the stairs, leaving the pulsating crowd behind.