Rory sat trembling on the couch, the shirt clutched tightly in her hands. She knew this
garment had to be the key piece of evidence of her escapades the night before. If she ever
found the truth about the night, she would probably throw the shirt away in disgust, but
right now it gave her the oddest feeling of comfort. Like the baby blanket she use to sleep
with every night.

Rory was so frightened that even the idea of heading to Luke’s scared her. How was she
ever going to explain this to her mother? The last time something like this happened the
two of them got into the largest fight ever. Rory was not about to disappoint her mother.
What could she do? She didn’t know the truth of what happened, and she couldn’t lie. 

Either option would hurt her. Lying would come back to haunt her one day, and telling
what little she knew of the truth would get her placed under house arrest. Maybe she
could feint amnesia, after all, she was lacking her short term memory. 

That wouldn’t be right, Lorelai would surely find out and have her head on a silver platter.
Rory curled her knees up to her chest, and hugged the shirt to herself. She clicked on the
television hoping that it would distract her from her predicament. But the noise just faded
into the background as she shook on the couch.

Lorelai walked into the house through the backdoor and came bouncing into the living
room.

“Rory, Luke should become a mime... he did this thing today that just...” Lorelai spotted
the tears about to fall from her daughter’s eyes. “Rory, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.” Rory fought to keep from crying.

“Oh, it’s one of those emotional roller coaster things.” Lorelai plopped down next to her
daughter and threw an arm over her shoulders, pulling close to her.

“No mom, it’s not one of those emotional roller coaster things, I don’t know, that’s the
problem.”

“Ok, you lost me back at no mom.”

Rory took a deep breath, it was now or never. “I went to this party last night, and I think I
got drunk, because I can’t remember anything.”

Lorelai sat in silence.

“Worst of all mom...” Rory held up the shirt. “I have no idea who’s this is, and how I
got.”

***

Tristan closed his locker and leaned his head against the cool metal. His friends had been
heckling him ever since he stepped out of his car. He did not want congratulations. He did
not want them gossiping. But most of all he didn’t want them to hurt Rory. Sure things
between them may have looked bad, but nothing had happened. They would never believe
that. Tristan was the big man on campus, what he wanted everyone gave to him on bended
knee.

This was going to be a hell of a day for him, but even worse for Rory. He had to find her
before his friends attacked him. He slung his bag over his shoulder and made his way to
the front of the school. Rory was just walking up the steps when he arrived. Tristan
quickly got in step beside her and threw a side-long glance her way.

“What do you want Tristan?” There was a hint of spit-fire in her voice, but it lacked her
usual tone of conviction.

“Rory we need to talk.” Tristan leaned towards Rory as she opened her locker. Rory
rolled her eyes and avoided his stare.

“I had a really weird weekend, and it did not end happily. Please just leave me alone
today.”

“That’s what we need to talk about.” Tristan’s tone was very calm and rational, rather
unlike him.

“What?” Rory slammed her locker door.

“We need to talk about what happened this weekend.”

“Tristan I have no idea...” She was interrupted by the bell ringing.

“Just meet me at the fountain after school. I gotta get to class.” Tristan bounded off down
the hallway before she could even comprehend his request.

***

Tristan sat nervously on the bench near the fountain. His legs bounced up and down and
he couldn’t seem to see straight. His surroundings blurred as the thoughts of what he
needed to say to Rory tumbled through his head. He had spent the entire weekend
planning out this conversation, but he knew that his plans would be trashed the minute
Rory opened her mouth.

He looked at his watch and noticed that he had been waiting for nearly half an hour. His
legs seemed to jump up and down faster. What was it about this girl...woman... that made
his life speed up and brake to a halt in a single instant? Every second he wasn’t with her
went on for a lifetime, and every second he was with her flashed by in less than an instant.

It was this maddening cycle of emotions and time that drove him crazy, and drove his need
to know her even more. He knew he was being a jackass for the way he treated her. He
knew it, and yet he still did it. The fact that she was so close and yet so far destroyed any
rational thoughts he had. All the careful planning, the mental berating, they all disappeared
when she was near. But not today. He vowed that if it was the last thing he ever did, he
would control his childishness today. He would talk this over with her, like adults. 

Tristan buried his head in his hands, and ran his long fingers through his tussled blonde
locks. He couldn’t sit anymore, it only served to agitate his nerves even more. Tristan
stood and began to pace back and forth in front of the bench. His hands went into his
pockets, and back out again. His breathing was shallow and irregular. He could just
imagine the insults tossed his way if any of his friends caught him in this state.

A noise, a step, caught his attention. In an instant his eyes were lifted from their downcast
position. The immediately caught the piercing blue eyes that stared at him. That beautiful
color could only belong to one person. Rory.

She stared at him. Her head cocked to one side. A perplexed look upon her face. Rory had
never seen Tristan in this state. His confidence was gone, the arrogance and
self-preservationist attitude evaporated into thin air. He looked nervous, unsure of
himself... he looked scared. 

In all the time Rory had known Tristan, he had never looked scared. He was the rock of
the school. She could always count on him to be a jerk. This new side of him and thrown
her emotions off balance.

They continued to stare at one another. Neither making any move to close the gap
between them, or say the first word. Almost as if doing so would break the gentle peace
that had descended on them the instant their eyes met. This solitude was a new an
unexplored territory for them. 

Rory took the initiative when she was afraid of what lay before them. Better to get it over
with then to leave herself in wonder.

“You wanted me to meet you.” She made a few steps towards him, and stopped.

“Yeah.” Tristan’s strong gaze faltered away from her eyes and onto the bench. He
motioned for her to sit. She hesitantly did so. Tristan took a seat beside her, but refused to
look at her.

“Are you ok?” Rory asked leaning towards him.

Tristan took a deep breath and calmed the butterflies that were beginning to form. “I’m
fine.”

“Ok, you just looked a bit flustered, not to mention pale.” Rory laid a comforting hand on
his shoulder. He looked like a broken china doll.

Tristan’s breath quickened at her touch, and it took ever ounce of resolve in him not to
sweep her into his arms. After everything that happened between them Saturday night,
even the simple thought of her tender caress drove him to the breaking point. Actually
feeling her hand on him almost drove him over the edge.

He took one last deep breath and gathered his strength. “Rory, I needed to talk to you
about... about what happened Saturday night at the party.”

Rory drew her hand away as if his clothing had suddenly burnt her. “Oh!”

“We need to talk about what happened between us.” Tristan closed his eyes as if to block
out a horrible pain.

Rory’s eyes blinked rapidly a few times as she broke down his words. ‘Us?’ Something
had happened between the two of them.  “I’m not sure I know what you mean.” 

Tristan’s eyes slowly opened. “You don’t remember?” He turned to look at her. All she
could do was nod ‘no’ in reply. He chuckled slightly to himself, before speaking in a
hushed tone. “Of course you wouldn’t remember... you were drunk. God Tristan you’re
so stupid. You knew she wouldn’t remember.”

He stood up from the bench and began pacing again. His expression went from agitation
to fear to self-amusement and back again. All Rory could do was to watch him pace back
and forth, what little memory she had of that night tumbling through her head.

“Tristan?” Her worried voice was enough to make him stop his movement and stare into
her eyes. She swallowed before proceeding. “What did happen between us Saturday
night?”

How was he suppose to answer that? Rory it was the most remarkable night of my life.
Rory, we almost made love. Rory, you got drunk off you ass and I almost took advantage
of you. Rory, I’m falling hopelessly in love with you. 

What words could he use to tell her that she had come onto him? What sentence would
answer that complicated question? Did she want the physical happenings, or the emotional
changes that had transcended that night? Would she believe him? Could he really answer
that question? Did he really even know the answer to that question himself?

“Rory.... you still have my shirt.”

***

Rory did a double take. Of all the things she had expected him to say, that was the last
thing that had crossed her mind. The fact that the shirt she had used as a lifeline these past
few hours belonged to him only deepened the mystery of what had happened at the party. 

Rory began to tremble in fear. The implications of his words alone left her feeling
wounded, and the thought of the actual actions that could have occurred only deepened
that pain that had suddenly chilled her to the bone. 

Tristan stared down at Rory and saw her face drain of its warm color. He noticed that her
hands had begun to tremble and she gripped the edge of the bench in an attempt to keep
them still. It didn't work, her entire body began to shake. Rory looked to be growing
frailer with each passing second. Tristan was scared that any moment now she would pass
out. His mind raced with ideas of how he could react. He wanted to move to her but was
afraid she would reject him. But one simple look at the terrified girl in front of him made
thinking over the possible consequences impossible.

Tristan covered the few feet between them in two quick strides. He sat beside her and
wrapped his arms around her, attempting to comfort her, squeezing her to him ever so
gently. Tristan's eyes searched all over her face in an attempt to figure out what she was
thinking. Her breathing was becoming quicker and shallower with each passing moment.
Tristan attempted to soothe her more by humming softly in her ear. One hand began to
gently rub her back in slow circles.

Rory's shaking subsided and her breathing became deeper again. Under other
circumstances she would lean into his touch, welcoming it whole-heartedly. But the
trembles of fear were replaced by her struggle to break away from Tristan's grip. She
pushed his arms off of her and stood, taking quick steps to put distance between them. 

Tristan stood up and followed her, afraid that her movement was because she was about
to be sick. In his need to care for her he failed to miss the anger in her eyes. When Rory
saw him following she turned her back to him. Tristan reached out a placed his hand
gently on her shoulder. 

Rory immediately jerked back around and slap his hand away. Tristan looked at her in
shock. Just a second ago she seemed like she was going to fall apart, and now she looked
stronger than ever, full of fury and strength. Her eyes burned deeply into his searing his
emotions to the core.

“Don’t ever touch me again.” Rory’s harsh words were spoken through a deep scowl. She
turned to dash away from him, but Tristan’s hand gripped her arm before she could make
an escape.

“Rory we need to talk this over.” Rory’s back was to him as he pleaded with her. Her
shoulder’s moved up and down rapidly in her anger.

“There’s nothing to say. The implications of your words say it all. Leave me alone
Tristan.” Rory struggled to break away from his grip but Tristan simply held her tighter
before whipping her around to face him.

“Rory it’s not what it looks like.” His eyes scanned her face looking for the least bit of
break in her solid front.

“Oh really, you could have fooled me Tristan. Then what does it look like? I did your
laundry while we were at the party and forgot to give you back your shirt. Sorry Tristan,
that didn’t happen.” She tried to jerk away from him again but her held her fast. It would
be painful for her to hear, but she had to know the truth of what happened that night.

“Rory.... please listen to me.”

“Why should I? I don’t want to have to hear how you finally conquered the untamed
beauty. I don’t want to be another notch on your bedpost. I don’t want to be one of your
whores. I didn’t want anything to do with you. Then I had to be so stupid to get drunk
and let you... god...I can’t even say it.” She pulled with all her might, Tristan wouldn’t let
her go at first, and then he released his grip and let her run away from him.

She got a few feet from him when his words stopped her in her tracks. 

“Nothing happened Rory. You aren’t a conquered being, you aren’t a notch, and you are
not, and will never be a whore.”

The words were soft and his head was downcast. Rory slowly turned and looked upon his
defeated figure. Her face grew soft, and the strength she had moments ago flowed out of
her body.

“What?” She asked inquisitively.

“Nothing happened, but I can understand that you don’t want anything to do with me. I’ll
leave you alone now.” Tristan stuffed his hands in his pockets and brushed past her. His
heart hurting more than he thought possible.

“Wait... Tristan.” He stopped but didn’t turn.

“What did happen?” Rory walked closer to him, but made no move to touch him.

“You were drunk and my friends were all over you. I didn’t want to see you get hurt so I
tried to pull you away. You said you had something important to say to me and we went
up stairs. We ended up alone in a bedroom.” He paused to breath, willing the rest of the
night to be spoken. “You tried to apologize to me for what you said on Friday. Then, well
I honestly can’t say what sparked it. But we kissed and well.... the shirt came off. I
stopped it before we went to far. You were drunk, you had no idea what you were doing.
It’s entirely my fault.”

Rory stood in silence allowing his words to soak into her memory. Not wanting to believe
that they had any truth to them.

“If I was so drunk then how did I get home?” She wanted his story to be wrong.

“I drove you. You held my shirt so tightly I didn’t even think of taking it from you. You
fell asleep in your car and I carried you inside and laid you down on the couch. I’m sorry
for everything that happened Rory. I’ll leave you alone now.” 

Tristan walked out of the courtyard leaving Rory alone, his shirt still in her backpack.

***

Tristan scuffed his feet as he slowed walked towards his car. Things had not gone has they
had planned, granted he was being ideal with the way he thought things were going to go.
He sighed as his stupidity, thinking that Rory would forgive him in an instant, and things
would go back to "normal." But Rory always surprised him and today was no exception.

He shoved his hands into his pockets. His right hand jingling the car keys inside. It felt
worse now than he did after the actual incident. Perhaps it would have been better for
Rory if she remained oblivious. But then again, she would have found out somehow, and
then things would have been even worse.

Tristan watched the ground, is eyes following the solitary pebble that he was kicking along
the pavement. At that moment he felt like that pebble. Tossed and beaten, with no set
destination. 

He let out a long sigh before pulling his keys from his pocket and twirling them around his
fingers. Tristan knew that his father would ask what was up as soon as he walked in the
door. He was not looking forward to that moment, because Tristan didn't even know what
was going on. Rory was this enigma who dazzled him with her mystery, and no matter
how hard he tried he would never break her code.

***

Rory stood motionless in the courtyard, the trickling fountain behind her was the only
noise in the air. Her eyes stared out at Tristan's retreating form. His head was turned down
and he looked like the life had been sucked out of him. Rory had never seen him seen so
defeated.

But what the hell had just happened?

Tristan had just reversed every preconception Rory had about him. He didn’t act like a
jerk and he didn’t try to force her to do anything. He simply relayed the evening to her,
and walked away. Just like that. No questions asked, no prying for a date, nothing. He
treated her like a human being.

Damn him.

He had backed off when she would have asked him to if she were herself that night.
Tristan had actually cared about her enough to think about the consequences of their
actions when she could not.  He had been a decent human being. He took care of her, he
kept her safe..... he had been gentlemanly.

That idea through Rory’s mind into a tailspin. The thought of Tristan being a normal
decent human being screwed up her image of him. She didn’t like it when people did
complete 180’s on her. It caused her to have to rethink everything she knew about the
person. Tristan wasn’t suppose to be nice and all polite like. He was suppose to be a
cocky, arrogant, egotistical prick. And yet... he had just acted like nothing he had before.

Rory watched as he kicked a pebble across the parking lot. She let out a groan of
frustration. What was she to do? They still had to work on that project together, and
things would be really awkward if they just left their conversation with his walking away.

***

Tristan fumbled with his car keys as he tried to find the one that would unlock his door.
His hands shook with frustration, over the fact that he couldn’t find the right key, but
mainly over what had just happened with Rory. As his frustration grew so did his urge to
cry. The feeling of the tears welling up in his eyes made him even more frustrated.

He hadn’t cried in so long. He knew it was coming. There were times when all he wanted
to do was let loose and just let the tears fall from his eyes, but he never let them. He
always took a deep breath and willed them to go away. He pushed back his fears and put
on a strong front. 

But now, it was becoming harder and harder to do so. A single tear trickled down his face.
It slowly rolled down his cheek, where he angrily brushed it back. He was about to bury
his head in his arms and give in when a voice cause him to stop completely.

“Tristan... wait.” Rory called out to him, her feet slapping against the pavement.

Tristan took a few deep breaths, and pushed the tears back once again. He prayed that his
eyes were not bloodshot and didn’t give him away. One more calming breath, and he
slowly turned around. He was greeted by the site of her mere inches from him, pulling a
shirt out of her bag.

“I believe this belongs to you.” She handed it over, and when he pulled it from her hand, a
look of loss crossed her face.

“Thanks.” He turned around, Rory simply being in his presence made him weak.

“Tristan, please wait.” He turned back around, watching her downcast face. “I’m sorry
that I didn’t listen to you earlier, and I said all those things. I wasn’t thinking rationally.
But we still have that project for current events class to do. I know things are going to be
awkward, but can’t we just forget what happened and move on.” Her eyes raised to meet
his.

“Sure.” Tristan spit out the answer and quickly unlocked his car. Rory put a hand on his
shoulder.

“No hard feelings?” Her tone was one that begged to be forgiven.

“No hard feelings.” He forced a smile her way before climbing in his car. He almost
slammed the door in her face, but decided to be civil. “Do you... umm... need a ride?”

“No... but thanks.”

“See you tomorrow.” Tristan shut his door, and started the car engine. Rory watched as
he drove away.