Chapter Text
Rory didn’t know how she would have survived the road trip down to Florida without Lane by her side. Between Paris’ terrible driving, Glen’s frightened complaining and Janet’s weird-smelling protein shakes, Lane bringing along her portable cd-player with extra batteries felt like a Christmas miracle. They played Fever to Tell and The Mountain Goats through shared earbuds on repeat, ignoring the constant fighting in the front of the car to analyze the meaning of Maps. “Hey, thanks for bringing me along,” Lane muttered with a shy smile when they’d reached the Florida state border. “Of course,” Rory grinned back. “Really Rory, rooming with the guys is great – being an independent woman and all – but it is exhausting. I think I really need a vacation. And between this and letting me crash over Christmas… thank you for being there for me.”
Rory hugged her childhood friend close. “It’s the least I could do.” She meant it. Having Lane over after Mrs. Kim kicked her out was exactly what she needed when she struggled to adjust to college life, circumstances be damned. She knew it was self-centered, but she couldn’t deny it. A selfish part of her still missed having Lane in the dorm ready with coffee and gossip about what she’d heard through the paper-thin dorm rooms. She got that Lane was going through her own stuff and that Yale was going to keep Rory away, but she didn’t want to grow apart. “I’ve missed hanging out with you like we did when I still lived at home,” Rory added. Glenn punched the dashboard from his spot in the front seat and yelled at Paris: “It’s red, that’s a red, Paris don’t!” Rory grimaced at the words and looked back at Lane. “Besides, I’m pretty sure I need you more right now than you need me.” They snorted at the situation and returned to their music.
-
The van screeched into a halt by the front desk of the Sea Sprite Motel long after sunset, but by the look of the place the party had just started. Every floor of the motel was covered in teens and twenty-somethings holding red cups and chatting with each other by luminescent pools. “You’re a lunatic!” Glenn declared as they all escaped the car. “Hey, I shaved three hours of the MapQuest estimate. How about a thank you for that?” Paris argued, rounding the front of the car to continue their argument. She then turned to Rory and Lane: “Who’s in charge here?” “I’m guessing pink shirts and white shorts?” Rory replied, looking over the people behind the desk. “I think my clothing choice has been vindicated,” Glenn smirked, getting Paris to stop sifting through her wallet. She scowled at the boy: “Swank attire and desperation for approval, the chicks are gonna eat you up.” “Jeez, that’s harsh,” Lane mumbled into Rory’s shoulder, but her expression was more appropriate for chewing popcorn.
Glenn threw one last glare at Paris before he went to get his things. “It is warm!” Paris declared the second he was gone. “Are you guys feeling the warmth?” “I’m definitely starting to thaw,” Rory answered. “Inching closer to the equator sure switches things up,” Lane added. A tall guy in a pink shirt walked up to the girls with a list as Janet joined the rest of the girls. “Name please,” the man said. “It’s under Billings,” Janet responded, stretching her arms. “Okay,” he mumbled and checked the list. “We have you girls in room six.” “Room six, okay, and what is your name?” Paris asked, clutching her wallet. “Jack.” “Jack. Well, Jack, hello. I’m Paris,” she said and fished out a dollar bill. “- and this is Andrew. And we just wanna make sure that we’re getting your very best room.” Jack grinned and took the bill, then handed her a key. “Actually, room nine has a better view and it’s closer to the ice machine.” Lane and Rory grinned to each other by Paris’ side. “Let’s go with nine!” The latter declared. Then she held out a new bill. “Now, who’s gonna help with our bags?” she shouted into the crowds.
Another guy in uniform sprinted forward and took it. Paris directed him towards their luggage and Rory’s bag. Meanwhile, Janet began to stretch her legs. “I think I’m gonna go for a run,” she said. “Now?” Lane asked her. “Just a short one around the block,” Janet replied and turned before any of them could argue. “She looks so normal, and then that happens,” Rory commented. Lane and Paris nodded. “Come on,” Paris said, and they started to slowly follow the valet.
“Gah, this is so exciting, our first Spring Break!” Lane squeed into Rory. “I’ve never been to Miami before.” “Me neither,” Rory giggled as Paris pulled yet another bill from her wallet and put it into the hand of a passing employee. “Paris Geller, room nine. Remember that,” she said. The girls stared. “Paris, maybe you should make sure you still have cash for the actual vacation,” Lane noted. “No, see, a lot of people make the mistake of tipping at the end of a trip,” Paris argued. “But I always tip as you go along. That way they never know when the honeypot dries up, and it keeps them from going through your stuff and robbing you blind.” “Okay, nice,” Lane added. “But make sure it doesn’t dry up by midnight.” “Oh, ye of little faith,” Paris hummed and handed her next bill.
As they reached the top of the stairs, Rory took in the view. “Oh man, look at that!” Lane followed her eyes and squeed again. “We’re right on the ocean!” Deep blue darkness met the horizon in an almost black color and crashed onto shore in white. It was absolutely beautiful. “Paris, look at it. It’s right there!” Rory continued. “I see it,” Paris followed, a little subdued but still smiling before she caught a housekeeper. “… Feel free to keep the sheets clean and the towels coming.”
The room was very different from the hostels Rory had bunked with her mom and a bunch of strangers in on their trip across Europe. White walls were covered in commercial art that matched the Floridian aesthetic, a living room with sofas and two queen size beds. It looked like a regular suite. “Okay… not bad,” Paris remarked as the trio went further into the room. She negotiated her way into a VCR and cheered on the valet as he left the room: “I’m giving the toast at your wedding.”
“Well, at least it doesn’t smell bad here,” Rory said, noticing the lack of beer stench inside compared to outside. Paris was already on the left bed. “Blossom, Bubbles, pull your covers down and roll on the bed,” Paris declared. “Why?” Paris turned back around. “We’re sharing this room with four other girls, Rory. Plus 10K Barbie. We have to stake out our territory.” Paris jumped onto the bed and started rolling and bumping on it. “Yes, and then we need to up your dosage.”
“Look, person comes in, they see a dent in the bed possibly a hair on the pillow…”
“So the person’s David Caruso?”
“They’ll figure that bed is taken, they will then move on to the couch or the rollaway.”
“That’s insane.”
“Okay, suit yourself.” Rory turned to Lane. “You roll, I get un-valuables to strew across?” Lane proposed. “Deal.”
They shook hands and got to work. Paris sat up briefly. “Oh, that’s clever. Hey, do me after your done with yours, Lane?” “Aaand I was worried I would feel stupid,” Rory moaned as she rolled around. “Stupid, but well rested.” Paris said, moving in rhythm. Lane fished out two socks and some fliers they had picked up on the journey and tossed them onto the beds at random. “How long do we have to do this?” “I think we’re good.” The girls on the bed stopped and Lane sat down by the edge of her and Rory’s bed.
“I’m really comfortable right now,” Rory admitted. “Yeah, me too,” Paris said, almost interrupted by car horns outside. “Sounds like more coming in,” Lane commented. Paris left her bed. “Where are you going?” Rory asked. “To see what all the ruckus is about.” “Wait for me, I like ruckus,” she said and grabbed Lane’s hand as they followed Paris out the room. A dusty red car opened every compartment at the same time and boys kept pouring out of it, and Rory commented on it. “They should all be wearing Shriner hats,” Paris added. Rory looked up to giggle with Lane again when she saw a guy pass behind them. He had dark brown hair in a poofy short cut and bushy eyebrows, wearing a red t-shirt and carrying a brown duffel bag over his shoulder. He smiled at Rory as he passed her. “Hey,” he said. Rory felt her cheeks warm up. “Hey,” she said and flipped her head to follow his direction. Lane did a double take on the guy and looked back at Rory.
Paris leaned up and put her hands in her jacket pockets. “Hmm, that was subtle,” she said. “What are you talking about?” Rory asked. “The ‘Joanie loves Chachi’ moment.”
“He said ‘hey’.”
“We heard.”
“I said ‘hey’ back.”
“You did!”
“I was being polite.”
“In Burma you’d be married, or brutally killed.”
“Huh.” Paris and Rory turned to Lane. “What, it was just an exaggeration,” Paris said. Lane looked back at Paris. “Hm? Oh, I wasn’t listening.” Rory furrowed her brows. “So what did you ‘huh’?” Lane shot one more glance in the guy’s direction and smirked as she locked eyes with Rory. “Nothing.”
Rory rolled her eyes. “I’m gonna go make your beds.” “You make my bed you make your own bed,” Lane countered. “Okay I’m gonna make Paris’ bed.” “Don’t you dare,” Paris exhaled nonchalantly. “Man, I’m thirsty.” A guy in plaid tried to pass but got blocked by the bossy blonde as she flashed yet another green sheet of paper. “Root beer?” she asked innocently. The guy took the bill and turned around to where he came from. “Paris that guy doesn’t work here,” Rory said. “Not yet, but look at that mug of his, it's only a matter of time.”
-
By lunchtime the following day, the girls were speed-walking barefoot through hot sand to get to a free spot on the beach in front of the motel. “Here. It’s over here,” Paris said, leading the way to a white structure. “Oh! How did we get a tent?” Rory asked. “Toby again, classic tip work,” Paris replied, dressed in an orange bathing suit covered by an oversized yellow dress shirt, a sunhat, and a pair of dark sunglasses. On one side of her, Janet was strolling in a yellow Juicy-style hoodie and pink shorts. On the other was Lane in a brand-new bikini covered by a Dark Side of the Moon t-shirt. Rory herself was in her dark blue bathing suit, lilac striped shorts and a pair of pitch-black sunglasses. “Which one’s Toby?” she asked Paris. “The one with the bandaged hand. He cut it setting this up.” Lane grimaced at that. “I popped him another sawbuck,” Paris added, earning a worried nod of approval.
Glenn jogged in wearing a near identical pattern shirt to the one he’d left them in yesterday. “Cool tent! How’d we get it?” he exclaimed. “Stay ignorant, Glenn. It comes with the oppressive guilt of the ruling class,” Rory replied. He barely registered her quip before he turned towards Janet, who was revealing a matching pink tank top under her hoodie. “Hey, Janet,” he said. “I like your suit.” “Thanks, Glenn,” Janet muttered without turning around. “Hey, hot dogs.” Glenn ran towards a cart in the distance. “Oh! Get one for me!” Lane yelled after him.
After two simultaneous arguments (one about volleyballs, one about towels), the addition of plastic chairs and a table, more tips, extra appliance of sunscreen and another exercise departure on Janet’s part, the girls were settled into the tent. Rory was about to ask Lane about her weird smirk last night when a familiar voice called out her name. “Rory, Paris! Oh my god!” The girls twisted their heads and saw a yellow truck driving through the sand with two shirtless guys on the edge and a pair of girls waving in the center. The truck stopped just as Rory realized it was Madeline and Louise. “Hello, ladies!” Louise shouted melodically as the lifeguards helped the girls down from the car. “Unbelievable,” Rory grinned to Paris, and they stood up to greet their old high school friends. “Wait, who are they again?” Lane asked, jumping after. “Madeline and Louise, we went to Chilton with them, remember?” Rory explained, taking in the sight of the duo in all their glory.
They fit right at home in Spring Break. Madeline was sporting a red bikini top with white flowers on each triangle and black shorts, while Louise strutted in a pink bikini set and a cowboy hat. They ran towards Rory, Paris and Lane like they were auditioning for Baywatch. “What are you guys doing here?” Rory asked. “Spring Break!” Madeline giggled. “Actually, we came for Tulane’s Spring Break and just stayed,” Louise explained. “We’ve been here a month, with great lifeguards,” Madeline added. “I’m so excited to see you guys!” Then she turned to Lane. “And hello to you, long time no see!” Lane blinked in confusion. “Hiiiii…” she squeed awkwardly, feigning giddiness. “You were at our party back home in Hartford, remember?” Madeline pointed out. “You hooked up with Henry! God he was so sad when it didn’t work out, I was rooting for you two,” Louise said. “Of course… Wait- You were?” Lane stuck her neck out: “He was?” Louise nodded and winked before she looked back to Paris and frowned at the sight of something. “Paris. You missed a spot; I can see skin.” Paris clutched her collarbone and skipped back to the table under the tent. The rest of the girls joined her.
“So, when did you get here?” Madeline asked. “2 o’clock this morning,” Paris answered. “I love 2 o’clock in the morning,” Louise sighed. “You guys are having a good time?” Rory asked as she settled in her plastic chair. “Oh, way better than most other people.” “We’re very competitive,” Madeline continued. “It took a couple of weeks to get the right routine down, but now we own this town.” “Chamber of congress must be thrilled,” Paris commented, rubbing sunscreen on herself. Louise took in the sight in astonishment: “I think the last place I would ever expect to find Paris Geller on earth is at Spring Break.” “Hey, I’m up for new things!” Paris insisted. “Okay then we have to make sure you do this right,” Madeline smiled.
“There are rules,” Louise perked up. “There always are in a civilized society,” Rory nodded, Lane sitting next to her with a blank stare. While she seemed to disappear in her own mind, Rory and Paris took in the boatload of tips and tricks shared by their former high school peers. “Were we really friends at one point?” Paris asked a little more serious than she probably should be, but Madeline ignored the question in favor of explaining card-usage in clubs. “Major flirting,” she finished. “A sexy voice,” Louise said. “And if all that fails, make out.” “With who?” Rory asked. “Each other,” Louise answered like it wasn’t even a question.
“Excuse me?” Paris frowned. Lane suddenly shot up and leaned over to Rory. “Crap, what did I miss?” “I’ll give you the rundown later, Judy Woodruff,” Rory replied quickly without taking her eyes off the girls across the table. Madeline explained: “We found that if we kiss each other, we can get anything we want from guys.” Her and Louise went on to list different items and activities they’d apparently gotten from performing sapphic tendencies for an audience. Lane and Paris’ eyes competed for growing in size. “Okay. Well. That is a good tip,” Rory nodded uncomfortably. “Yeah, maybe later I’ll pants you for an Altoid,” Paris almost laughed.
They exchanged motel info and times to meet up and then Madeline and Louise get picked up and drove off. Once they were gone, Rory told Paris: “I liked the pant-you-for-an-Altoid-thing.” Then she turned to Lane. “Are you okay?” “As OK as A,” she answered with a smile. “Then what’s with the Raven Symone freeze?”
“Oh, I just got caught off guard when they knew who I was.”
“They’ve met you before.”
“Yeah, but still.”
“Lane do we need to listen to ‘Beautiful’ by Christina Aguilera again?”
“No, I know I am! It’s just…” Lane tilted her head, looking as if she was trying to word whatever was on her mind right. “I don’t know why, but the fact that they remember me way more than I remember them makes me feel so powerful.” Rory leaned back into her chair. “Huh. I get it.”
-
“Oh my god I’m starving!” Rory declared as she, Paris and Lane burst into the motel room with one bag of takeout, another of DVDs and two cardboard boxes full of pizza. “I can’t believe what a great video store that was,” Paris exclaimed. “Varda and Almodóvar next to Michael Bay next to Pink Flamingos!” Lane exclaimed giddily. “A little research before a trip always helps,” Rory added as she put the bags down. “Pizza and The Power of Myth,” Paris noted. “A perfect evening,” Lane smiled, and the two sat down next to their beds while Rory went to get a towel.
When she returned she spotted Paris looking at the phone. “What?” “Nothing. Just checking for messages, that’s all,” she said immediately and left the bed. “You expecting a call from Asher?” “No, I’m not expecting a call… He’s at a conference in Denver, so… I’m not expecting a call.” Rory and Lane eyed each other as Paris began rambling. After a final denial she put the video cassette into the TV and the other two brushed it off and got some slices of pizza before settling down to watch.
While Paris and Rory discussed the number of times they’d seen the Joseph Campbell masterpiece, the crowds outside got louder. “Wow, it sounds like quite a party out there,” Rory commented. “Yep,” Paris said as the sound of splashing reached the room. “I think someone just got thrown in the pool.” “I hope it’s the guy who took my five bucks and never bought me a root beer.” A song started playing on the outdoor speakers. “This is a good song,” Rory said, having stopped eating her slice.
“Okay, I’m sorry, are we doing this right?” Lane asked. “Doing what right?” Paris asked. “Spring Break. I mean we’re in here with Joseph Campbell and Bill Moyers and everyone else is out there with-” “Everyone else?”
“Yeah.”
“But… we love Bill Moyers.” Rory could see the conflict in Lane’s eyes and decided to interject. “Yes, we do love Bill Moyers. But we did come here for Spring Break and… I think Lane’s just wondering – and I do too – if we’re not Spring Breaking the way you’re supposed to Spring Break.” “You’re probably right,” Paris admitted. “Right,” Lane inhaled. “So… Do we just get out there?” Paris and Rory looked at each other. “I guess so,” Rory replied.
The girls all looked nervously at the outside seen through their entrance door. None of them moved. From the corner of her eye, Rory saw Lane tense and untense her body. “Okay, let’s do it, let’s commit,” Paris said, sounding more like she was convincing herself than the others. “Starting now?” Rory asked. “Starting now.” The three furiously nodded at each other and mustered the strength to get out of their beds. They walked up to the door and stopped at the threshold, spotting a group of guys throw each other into the pool across from them. Around the group of guys was five more groups of different combos dressed in bathing suits and t-shirts and tiny flowy dresses, all chatting loudly. Around those groups again were ten more groups. Strewn between the groups were countless trios and duos and singular guys making their way through each other to and from the bar and the rooms and the exit to the beach.
The trio inside the room swallowed simultaneously. “Tomorrow’s fine, too,” Rory declared. “Absolutely,” Lane and Paris said at the same time. Rory closed the sliding door and they returned to their Miami movie night.
-
The following day they were reunited with Madeline and Louise at the pool, got ahold of five sunbeds and soaked in the sun while the Spring Break veterans soaked in the view of shirtless guys. “I’ve got five on the blonde with the tattoo,” Madeline said about two guys sitting on the shoulders of two others while fighting with… Rory wasn’t sure what to call them. Giant inflatable Q-tips? “You always go for the tattoos,” Louise countered. “How about you?” she asked Lane. “Uh, honestly it depends,” Lane replied before returning to a copy of Patti Smith Complete. “God, I’m starving,” Paris muttered under her sun hat. She complained about the lack of anything but vending machine in the area until the blonde with tattoos fell over in the pool. When he hit the surface, water splashed onto the quintet in their front row seats. “Oh! Perfect!” Paris groaned, shaking off droplets while Lane blew on her book and raised it towards the sun.
Rory watched the girls frantically dry themselves while she talked to her mom on the phone. “Okay, forget I said giant Q-tips. They’re not hitting each other with giant Q-tips.” she told Lorelai. “Okay but now I can’t get giant Q-tips out of my head, it’s too powerful a visual,” her mom replied on the other end. “I know, I’m sorry.”
“So how is it?”
“It’s good so far!”
“Yeah? How good?”
“I haven’t had a drink yet,” Rory assured when she caught the sight of the smirking brunette from the other night. He wore that same smile right now but had replaced the t-shirt for an army green tank-top with cartoony clouds on the chest. Rory found herself staring at the guy while her mom talked. He was pretty cute. Mature, but also playful looking. He could probably mumble something smart and funny into her ear if they hung out together at a party. She really wanted to bury her finger in that voluminous hair of his. “Are you sure you weren’t drinking and that’s why they were giant Q-tips?” The guy met Rory’s eyes and his smirk grew. “Uhm… maybe,” Rory stuttered, trying to recall what Lorelai was saying.
“Hello, what just happened?” The boy continued to keep his eyes on her as he walked across the poolside and stopped by the stairs. He gave her one last grin before his pushed himself up the stairs. Lane chuckled loudly, and Rory flipped her head around to see her friend side-eyeing her. “Hmm?” Rory said to her mom while she glared in slight confusion at Lane. “You sound distracted, did something cute just walk by?” Lorelai tried through the line. “That’s one way of putting it,” Lane mumbled and opened her book. “No!” Rory exclaimed to both of them in a fluster. “Uhm, no. No, I was just trying to think of something better to describe the, uh, the giant Q-tips.” Lane went over to Rory’s ear and shouted: “She’s lying!” “You’re lying?!” “I’m not lying!” “Four words, two names: Chasing Liberty, Matthew Goode.” “Ooh, sounds scrumptious!” Rory felt the blood drain from her face: “I’ll call you later, okay?”
“No windows!” “No windows.”
With a beep she ended the call and glared at Lane. “How would you like it if I did that with your mom?” “I’m a grown independent woman now, you can do whatever you want with my mom,” Lane proudly countered. The second the words left her mouth both girls grimaced. “That’s-” “Yeah, I know, I realized just as I was saying it.” They shook the exchange off. “So?” Lane hummed. “So,” Rory smiled innocently back and turned to look at what the rest of the girls were up to. They were all staring at her. “What?” “Excellent taste,” Louise said. “What’s his name?” Madeline added. “Whose name?” Rory almost shook her head. Louise tilted her pink sunglasses down: “They guy you were just staring at.” “I wasn’t staring.” Rory could swear that she was going to say something snide when Madeline spotted a pair of blonde twins at the balcony, and they got scared off the premises by competition.
Lane snorted again. Rory was about to ask her to spit it out, but Paris opened her mouth first. “Hey, why don’t you go get us something at the bar?” “What?” Paris’ rolling eyes were oddly empathetic. “Then you can go talk to that guy.” Rory looked up towards the bar at the second floor and spotted his green tank top immediately. She could feel blood return to her face at an unusually fast pace and turned back to Paris before it could get hotter. “Uh, that’s okay.” “Come on. Go,” Lane encouraged. “Flirting seems to be a very big part of this Spring Break ritual, and I’m taken. I can’t flirt,” Paris argued. “I have to live vicariously through you.” “Well-” Rory started when the speakers declared the start of a banana eating contest. Paris jumped in her seat. “Oh, real food, thank god.” She stood up and left the girls immediately.
It was only her and Lane left. “Okay, what’s with the Statler and Waldorf routine?” Rory asked her. “Sorry, I know I’m being mean I just- it’s a pretty obvious observation.”
“What is?”
“The guy.”
“So he’s cute, so what?”
“He’s not just cute.”
“Do you wanna go for him? I’m not gonna stop you, I just thought you needed more time after-”
“Look at him.” Rory scrunched her nose and tried to take him in again. He was scary handsome. Lane hadn’t actually been too wrong in her description, except this guy was decidedly more beachy and less British. She was attracted to him, but so what? “Well?” she asked, shrugging her shoulders, still staring at him. “Does he look familiar?” “No.” “In any way?” Rory turned back around. “Do we know him?” Lane sighed and smiled sadly, like a teacher when a kid in class didn’t get the equation. It was a new feeling for Rory. She hated it. “No, we don’t,” Lane answered. “I’ve got the fort. Go.” Breaking through a final barrier of hesitation, she did.
The guy was right at the top of the stairs by the cooler boxes. Rory nervously walked around him and grabbed a beer as their eyes met. He smiled at her. She felt tingly. “Hey, um,” she stuttered, tucking back loose strands of hair. “Do you know what those things are called that they hit each other in the pool with?” The guy followed her quick gaze back to the pool and shook his head when he looked back at her. “No, I-I don’t,” he smirked at the ground. “Oh. Just wondering.” Rory felt herself bouncing one foot to get out nerves. What now? She had no other ice breakers, and she didn’t know what he liked. God, she didn’t know anything about this guy. She needed to be careful, what if she’d end up like in Where the Boys Are- “Do I lose points for that?” the guy said and flashed his smile. That smile. Rory struggled to wipe her own off. “No, no points lost.”
“Hey Sean, man, come on!” somebody shouted from behind Rory, and the guy leaned over her to respond: “Comin’!” Rory flipped her head back to make sure he still looked like himself. Did he just sound like- “See ya,” he smirked and walked away. “Ah, oh, okay… see ya.” Lost in the thought of how his voice sounded, Rory almost missed the choir of groans coming in waves as Paris strutted past her angry: “Excuse me for thinking a banana eating contest was about eating a banana!” She tossed a peel down on the floor and disappeared down the stairs. Rory followed her down slowly and they both eventually reached Lane. “You okay?” she asked Paris. “I’m hungry is what I am,” she grumbled, apparently not wanting to get into the details of what the competition was really about.
While Paris tossed herself onto her sunbed, Rory felt the need to stand. Lane clocked her nerves immediately. She lifted her eyebrows and smiled. “Well?” Oh. Rory crossed her arms and pouted. “Shut up,” she mumbled and sat down on her sunbed.
-
The Shins was playing at the club Madeline and Louise had taken them to. The Shins. Rory and Lane stood at the center of the crowd, transfixed by the artists on stage. “I regret nothing,” Lane declared breathlessly. “Everything: the sweating. The starving. That guy who banged on our door at 4:30 in the morning and yelled about ‘tits-for-beads’. All of it was worth it for this.” “They’re not bad,” Paris mused next to them. Meanwhile, Madeline and Louise returned after wiping their 18+ stamps and getting 21+ ones from some guys by the bar. “You guys want something?” Madeline asked. “Maybe later,” Rory tried not to frown in worry. Louise blew on the replaced stamp on her hand. “We’ll be back.”
The band finished their set and the venue darkened as people let out some extra claps and woos to send them off. “Already?!” Lane exclaimed and tried not to weep. Rory patted her back before looking around. “Wow, quite a scene!” she exclaimed. “Yeah, I guess we found the hot place tonight,” Paris nodded. “Yep, no one can sniff out the hip like we can,” Rory grinned back. The lights started flashing and people got into their dancing stances. “Okay, so here we are,” Paris said, slight discomfort in her voice. The other two nodded. “We should do something!” she continued. “What?” Rory asked. “I don’t know.” “We could dance,” Lane offered. “Dance. Okay, sure.” Paris tried to smile. “Let’s… let’s dance.” “Okay, let’s dance,” Rory confirmed.
The trio started to sway shyly to a rocky drumbeat blasting through the speakers. Just five seconds of it felt excruciatingly long. “This is fun,” Rory lied. “Yep,” Paris echoed. Lane chuckled at it and then both her and Paris caught the sight of something behind Rory. “Hey,” Paris smile grew genuine. “I think your husband’s here.” “What? Where?” Rory asked and turned around when they nodded in a direction. As if she’d had a radar installed in her eyeballs, she caught Sean immediately. His tank top was now switched out with a white dress shirt with rolled sleeves, and he was talking with some guys by the merch stand. He looked really good in that shirt. It meshed oddly well with his sort of rugged look. She wondered if- no.
“Why don’t you go buy him a drink?” Paris asked while Lane batted her eyelashes. “What, like a nice ginger ale?” Rory countered, flashing her stamp. “Or maybe you could get Madeline and Louise to buy a drink for you and then go bring it to him.” That was more tempting. She turned back to look at Sean only for his eyes to meet hers. A blue spotlight hit his face as he grinned. She smiled back and he acknowledged it before clinking his beer bottle with a pal’s and disappearing into the crowds again.
Rory frowned. “Well, that was the shortest relationship ever.” “What?” both girls said. “He looked, he saw, he changed his mind.” “Sorry,” Paris muttered genuinely. Lane gave Rory a quick shoulder rub. Maybe it was for the better. He could have been a serial killer. Or a chauvinist. Or a high school drop-out who left his girlfriend to eye-flirt with strangers on the other side of the country. Rory looked towards the bar and saw Janet for what might have been the first time in days. They shared a room with her, but they’d never been in it at the same time after she went on that beach jog. Now she was doing shots with some guy in a grid-patterned shirt. Not far away, Louise and Madeline had found a pair of boys to sway their hips against. Rory felt a twinge of jealousy. Their guys didn’t leave at the sight of them. They got to dance without getting hit by a wave of awkwardness two seconds in. They could feel at home in Spring Break.
“Okay, what is going on?” Paris exclaimed, and Rory returned her focus to her friends. She felt slightly relieved to not be alone in that envy. “What?” Lane asked, visibly ripped out of the same mindset. “Why is every single person in this place having a better time than we are?” Crap, were they? Were Rory and Lane and Paris having a bad time? Were they truly bad at this? “Well, I don’t know that they are,” Rory tried, more for herself than Paris. “Look around. Every single person in this place is having a better time than we are,” Paris insisted. “Why? I mean, we’ve been doing everything everybody else is, we’re here. In the hot place.” “So, we’re not great dancers,” Rory defended. “We did the hanging at the pool part… pretty well.” “Beach day too,” Lane added. “We’re not trying hard enough,” Paris frowned. “What are you talking about?” Lane asked. “This is not a test,” Rory said. “We came here to do Spring Break and we are going to do Spring Break,” Paris declared. “What haven’t we done?” Lane asked, slightly frustrated. “What else do you suggest we do-”
Before Lane could finish her sentence, Paris was grabbing her face and smacking her lips against hers. Rory stepped back on instinct and froze. Lane squealed and shook Paris off. “What are you doing?! Are you crazy?” Lane yelled. “Well Madeline and Louise do it,” Paris pleaded. “Do I look like either of them?! I’m not like Madeline and Louise, and I don’t want to be!” Lane said. “Madeline and Louise wear their underwear outside of their clothes,” Rory defended Lane. “I just thought-” “Just stop thinking, okay? Your thinking is very very dangerous!”
Rory needed a breather. This was getting too intense. Lane was freaking out, Paris was clearly spiraling, Janet and Madeline and Louise were dancing and drinking around the fire. Suddenly Lane started to jog away, and Rory and Paris followed in tow. “Lane-” Paris tried. “Get away from me, you’re not my type.” “Will you just wait!” “What?” Before Rory knew it, the girls got into an argument over the quality of Paris’ tongue-use. “I need some fresh air,” Rory groaned and turned towards the exit. She immediately got blocked by Sean.
“Hey, where you goin’?” Crap, even his inflections were similar. “Um, outside,” Rory answered. “Can I come with you?” “Oh, well…” “Maybe your friends want to come along?” He smirked. “My friends?” Rory squeaked. “Or are they your girlfriends?” He stepped closer, shaking his head in wonder. “I gotta tell you, that was some kiss.” “Oh my god!” Rory shut her eyes in fury and turned 180 degrees. If she couldn’t have air, she would have poison. She marched right through Lane and Paris and didn’t stop until she’d reached the bar. She slammed her palms on the counter and yelled: “I need a drink! Something strong would be really nice, but I don’t care if it’s vodka or beer or a virgin piña colada just anything to wash down my shame!... Please!” “Rory.” How did that creep know her name? She opened her eyes to turn and yell at the guy but froze immediately.
In front of her stood a boy with near-shoulder length black hair, sticking to his skin with sweat. His torso was covered in a black t-shirt with the club logo on his chest, dirtied by what looked like a beige handprint, wrinkled like he’d been grabbed by it. His hands held a cleaning rag and a beer glass. She could swear there was a little shake to them. His brown eyes were nauseatingly familiar.
“Jess.”