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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.”

Chapter Text

Jess was here. Jess was here. Jess was here.

They stared at each other for a full minute. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. People around them kept shouting out orders and waving their hands to try and catch his attention, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying.

He looked thinner. Somehow even scrawnier than he’d looked in winter, or maybe the layers of hoodies and leather jackets had just hidden it. She’d never seen him with hair this long. He used to care so much about it. Make sure it bounced right. He’d say things like “It’s too Elvis today,” or “Gotta cut it before I look like Nick Cave,” when it wasn’t acting like he wanted it. Now it was hanging damp and flat against his forehead and neck, almost tickling his shoulders. But his eyes were the worst. Even in club lighting, she could make out the circles under them perfectly. For a split second she wondered how much sleep he was getting. And the gaze itself. Jess had always had something dark about his eyes, some hint at something she’d never thought it was right to ask about. Now it was front and center, matched in focus only by this painful fear.

She should be happy. He looked absolutely miserable. He was in some dump on the other side of the country slinging drinks and smelling like crap. She was doing better than him. Even now in the mess of the night, she was doing better than him. But all she felt was hurt. She wanted to cry so bad.

“Rory-” She immediately turned around and started to sprint. She had no idea what he was about to say. She wasn’t even sure if he was planning to say anything but her name. But even that was too much.

Rory ran through Lane and Paris again, who seemed to shake their fight off and run after her. “Rory, where are you going?” Lane yelled after her. Rory crashed into Sean and pushed him out of the way, the last 48 hours with him long forgotten. She ran through the entry, past the queue and out into the fresh night air. She didn’t stop until she was half a block down.

“How the hell did you learn to run like that?!” Lane exclaimed behind her as Rory tried not to collapse on her knees. “Don’t look at me, I never saw any of that in gym class with Mrs. Vronsky,” Paris said a little after. “Can’t- can’t be in there,” Rory panted. God, she needed to get in shape. “Why not?” Paris asked. She could hear both of them walking the last steps up to her, and soon enough she saw their faces. “Did something happen? Was it Ben Calder?” Rory grimaced: “Not-” “No, she went to the bar- oh crap did somebody try to drug you?” Paris threw herself into a spiral about potential date rape. “I just- I can’t, can we leave?” Rory pleaded. Lane interrogated her with her eyes, looking for something concrete. “You can tell us! Do we need to watch our backs for someone?” “Is it tits-for-beads-guy?” Paris added, walking in circle around herself. “No. No we’re not in danger.” Rory straightened her back and inhaled. “I just wanna head back to the motel.” Paris stopped circling and put on a brave face for her. “Okay, we can do that,” Lane said.

“There you are!” The trio jumped at the sound of Madeline’s yell. She skipped over to them, Louise not far behind. “This place is dead, all the hotties from NYU left on Tuesday,” Louise pouted. “Afterparty?” Madeline suggested. “Sure, but can we do it at our motel?” Paris asked. “It’s where the best ones are,” Louise winked.

-

Rory was not thinking about Jess. The girls had sprinted back to the Sea Sprite and planted themselves around a table on the second floor terrasse. They’d arrived during a welcome lull for the hotel, but Madeline and Louise found booze immediately, which they distributed semi-evenly among the group. Rory had taken the first cup she saw in their hands and refused to put it down. She welcomed the slow small stream of horribly tasting mixes down her throat. And she was not thinking about Jess. Instead, she was switching between listening to Madeline and Louise’s gloating over upstaging ‘the twins’ and Lane and Paris still arguing about the kiss at the club.

“Can you please not make a big deal out of this? It was an act of desperation, an urge to seize the day, fear of missing out!” Paris continued to beg Lane, who sat in her chair with her arms crossed and her face turned away from Paris. “I don’t forgive you.” “It was just a kiss! No feelings involved! You know I’m together with Asher and you’re not a lesbian!” Lane faced Paris with a scowl. “Whether or not I like girls doesn’t matter when you tried to choke me with your tongue without consent.” Paris put her hands in the air: “Fine, I’m sorry, I’ll ask you next time.” Lane scoffed. “As if.” Paris waited for a couple seconds, staring at Lane and eventually leaning towards her. “Can you at least tell me what I did wrong? I can’t ask guys, they’ll assume I’m insecure.” “Aren’t you?” “They don’t need to know that.” Lane tightened her grip on herself but let out a sigh in the end. “Too much tongue. It’s like you’re picking a fight, this isn’t the WWE.”

While Paris nodded and asked for further directions, Rory tried very hard to focus on what they were saying instead of what it meant. Every time the word kiss was said, flashes of memories popped into her head of faces close to her own. She shouldn’t think about Dean because she was married, and she couldn’t- no. Just not. Not even saying the name. “Who needs more?” Madeline suddenly asked. Louise raised her hand mid-sip and Rory joined her. “Uh, everybody? Good. I’ll be right back,” Madeline noted and left.

“So Paris, what happened to the Princeton man?” Louise asked with a lifted brow. “Jamie and I broke up," Paris waved. “Paris has a different man now,” Rory explained, putting all her focus into the conversation. This was about Jamie. This was about Professor Fleming. This was possibly even about Lane, but not about anybody else, certainly not any of Rory’s exes. “I’m dating a professor.”
“Tenured?”
“Ages ago.”
“Anna Nicole, look at you.”
“He’s brilliant…” While Paris went on to, it finally dawned on Rory that they were entering boyfriend-talk. She looked for extra drops in her drink, hoping it would make her forget everything like they said it did in movies. So far it only made her remember more. When Madeline returned with refreshments Rory slowly gripped hold of a new cup. “I made them stronger this time.” “Oh, cool, it’ll be fun to watch the cups dissolve,” Rory chuckled out loud. Good, she thought to herself.

Then Paris revealed that she’d wanted Professor Fleming to invite her along to Denver. Rory and Lane eyed each other behind her back. ‘Oh,’ Rory mouthed silently. ‘It all makes sense now,’ Lane replied without a sound. “Maybe he’s going to dump me,” Paris theorized out loud. Louise propped up. “Does he still buy you jewelry?” “He’s never bought me jewelry.” That got Madeline’s head up from reapplying makeup. “He hasn’t? How much money does he have?” “Asher isn’t rich.” The ex-Chilton duo took in the response with horror and curiosity while Rory decided to step up and be a supportive friend.

“You’re just being paranoid,” she declared, trying not to wave her drink too much. “He wants you to have fun. And someone who wants you to have fun is someone who cares about you. Both of you…” she could feel herself going into a projectable territory and went into joke-mode. “… because there are two of you and they’re spinning.” It got a laugh out of everyone, which warmed Rory. And then she tried to unify the two Parises in her sight because she was really seeing double.

“Whatever happened to that boyfriend of yours?” No. “Who, Jess?” Rory asked on instinct and immediately shrank in size as she tasted the name on her tongue. No no no no no, she kept thinking to herself over and over. She was over him, she had thrown him out of her life – twice – and as long as nobody mentioned him she could go forever without thinking about him. She’d even reached the point where it would only take her a day of mental course-correction to get him back out whenever her mom made a snide remark on something she’d remembered him doing, or when Luke and his sister would exchange parenting/guardian-ing notes. But now that she’d seen him again. Again- “No,” Louise answered. Rory almost sighed loudly in relief.

“Oh, Dean,” she said. Madeline confirmed it while Rory felt a pair of eyes drilling into her side. She threw a quick glance at Lane, who was studying her expression with a face full of sympathy. Rory hoped she didn’t pick up on her inner panic. Louise asked about how Dean was: “… God, he was gorgeous.” “He’s fine.” “Is he still gorgeous?” Madeline asked. Paris flipped her head to join Lane in her sight-interrogation. “Oh, yes. Definitely, yes,” Rory declared. She wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince more between herself and the others. It wasn’t like Dean had lost his appeal. He was still tall. Still handsome. Visibly older, but she was too. There was nothing wrong with Dean. “You two aren’t together?” Louise inquired. “No, actually he’s married.” Maybe that’s why it wasn’t as easy to think about anymore. Maybe marriage was a turn-off for Rory. That was a good thing though, right?

Madeline and Louise did not seem to like his status-change. “What?!” “Why?!” “Well,” Rory started, setting her cup down. “He met Lindsay, and they got married. She’s pretty, blond, tall, leggy-” “Oh good, just what the world needs, another one of those,” Paris muttered weirdly bitter. “Tell me about it, Martine Carol,” Lane commented with raised eyebrows. “She’s nice too,” Rory tried to defend. That didn’t stop the rest of the girls from speculating about the length of the marriage though.

But Rory wasn’t paying attention anymore. She’d caught the scent of cigarette smoke. Following her nose, she darted her eyes in search of the source. As she scanned the area, a small part of her wondered if it could be him. If he’d somehow followed her here, or just decided to go for a walk nearby, or joined some other girl back to her place, which just happened to be the same motel as Rory. She hated that thought. She didn’t want him to be here. She wanted to stop thinking about him. She wanted to go back to when her biggest worry was Spring Break boys not thinking she was cute enough to approach. She wanted to go back to wondering what the right word for those giant Q-tips really was.

But. A part of her wanted the Marlon Brando moment. She wanted him running across town, screaming her name and begging for forgiveness in tears right below the balcony. But then she found the trio of strangers relighting their cigarettes, and she felt a surge of disappointment.

“You don’t talk at all anymore?” Paris asked her. It took her a split second to realize they were all still wondering about her first boyfriend. “No, we still talk. We’re still friends.” It came out shakier than she liked. It turned out that feelings and alcohol didn’t mix well at all. She couldn’t stop picturing the boy with the sweaty mop and hollow eyes at the club. Rory could feel herself get skittish. “Yes, you are. You’re cellphone friends,” Madeline teased, holding what Rory quickly realized was her own phone. Her face went white.

She tried to grab it back, but Madeline kept her hand away with a grin. “You have your ex-boyfriend’s number in your cellphone?” Louise asked. Only one of them, she almost spat out. “I told you we were friends.” “First loves are intense,” Louise responded. “My mom’s still in love with her first love,” Madeline noted. Please change the subject please change the subject please change the subject, Rory mentally begged. “She tells my father that over and over and- oops! I think I just dialed his number!”

“Madeline, no!” Rory threw her arms out trying to get her phone back. “Oh, my god, it’s ringing!” Madeline almost sang. “Hang up!” Rory begged, grasping and grasping. “It’s his voice mail. Oh, sexy voice!” “Hang up, Madeline!” “Oops, I think it’s gonna… it beeped!” she declared and pushed the phone into Rory’s ear. “No, I don’t want to talk to you!”

The words were instinctual. She ended the call before she’d even realized what she’d said, dropping her phone like a hot potato. Paris and Lane looked at her in horror. Even Madeline and Louise had frozen in place, confused expressions on their faces. “I…” She didn’t mean it like that. She- She didn’t hate Dean. She didn’t- she- it wasn’t like- “What was that?” Paris asked. Rory shook her head, desperate to get some semblance of an explanation out of her. “Geez, I wouldn’t have called if I knew you were gonna freak out like that,” Madeline swore. Lane leaned forward. “Rory, are you okay?”

“I- this punch- I’m gonna go for a walk.” She rose up from her chair a little too fast. Pressure hit her head immediately, and she had to lean on Paris’ shoulder to get her balance back. “Rory, wait-” Lane tried, but by then Rory was on her feet and running. She stumbled across the floor and down the stairs. “Jesus Christ,” she could hear Lane exclaim behind her, alongside approaching steps. “What does he have to do with anything,” she heard Paris counter. It was so much harder to run drunk. She tried to get as much distance as possible, but the second sand replaced concrete, Rory slid and fell on her butt. Crap, she was going to bruise. Lane and Paris caught up and bent down to hold her.

“What the hell is going on with you tonight,” Paris demanded. “Rory, you’re scaring us right now,” Lane said as she leaned down to meet Rory’s eyes. “I-” Rory tried to find the words to calm them down, but none came to mind. “Something happened at the club and you’re not telling us,” Paris insisted. Rory scoured her brain for anything. She couldn’t even get out an ‘I’m fine’. When she realized, her eyes started to hurt, and she felt something wet run down her cheeks. “Shit,” Paris mumbled under her breath. She motioned towards Lane to pick Rory up. “Don’t worry, Alice, you haven’t grown three times in size.” The girls got her on her feet again and rubbed her back while she cried. It was a hard and loud one. She hadn’t cried like that since she’d realized she’d need to drop a class to pass the year. Actually, the crying itself hadn’t felt like this in almost a year.

When the stream of tears slowed and Rory started to breath slower, Lane withdrew her head from Rory’s shoulder and locked sympathetic eyes with her. “Are you ready to tell us what happened?” “We’re going to murder Dean no matter what, but it’s good to know why,” Paris added. “It’s not Dean.” Rory felt a surge of energy in herself again. Like a caged animal getting jolted into yanking the metal bars again. Paris frowned: “But the phone-” “It’s not about him, he’s- There is nothing wrong with Dean it was just bad timing.” “Then what happened, Rory?” Lane asked.

Rory looked between the two girls holding her. She knew she was in safe hands, but she was still scared. What if they’d dismiss it? What if they’d ask her questions about him? What if Lane would get that look in her eyes again? What if Paris would tell her off on her taste in guys? What if saying his name finally made it real?

But the determination in Lane and Paris’ faces left no place to hide. She had to be honest. That’s what friends were. “It’s Jess,” she finally said, voice hoarse. “Jess?” Paris asked, confused. “What about him?” Lane enquired.

“He’s here.”

-

Rory was here. Jess still couldn’t wrap his head around it.

He was on his fifth cigarette of the break and his nerves hadn’t calmed one damn bit. Not long after he’d seen her escape the premises, his colleague Dana had told him to get his ass in gear again with orders. Instead, he’d turned for the staff exit and ran to the side of the building. He’d needed a smoke. He’d needed air. He’d needed to not be around a bunch of drunk toddlers and actually figure out if he’d really just seen Rory Gilmore in front of him.

She’d looked good. Well, she was obviously wound up about something considering her drink order, and there was something stiffer in her body language than he’d seen before – before she’d realized he was there, that is. But she looked healthy. Her hair was still short, but shiny in the flickering club lights. That over-the-shoulder burgundy top made her look more mature. She was a woman now. A Yale woman. A woman who could go out and party and spend Spring Break in Miami with all her Ivy League peers.

She’d looked like a deer in the headlights. It made Jess feel like shit. Was it the club too or just him? Oh, who was he kidding, of course it was him. She’d made a run for it the second time he just called out her name. He wasn’t even sure what else he was going to say after it. He just felt the need to say it. Because she was there. Right in front of him. On the other side of the country. Jess took another drag.

‘Come to Florida’, his crappy roommate Carl had said to him back in New York. ‘You can work in the sun,’ he’d said. ‘One month and you’ll be loaded,’ he’d said. ‘Drunk teenagers tip like crazy, it’ll be a walk in the park,’ he’d said. Somehow, Carl had forgotten to mention the risk of crashing into your ex on the clock. Jess didn’t expect to see anybody he knew down at Spring Break. For one, the city was big enough so that anybody he might have gone to school with in New York could be at any other club right now. Second, nobody in Stars Hollow struck him as the Spring Break type, or rather the type to save up and plan for it. But even then, he’d expect tools like Rich or Chuck Presby. Never Rory.

Clearly, he didn’t know her as well as he thought he did. The Rory he’d known would probably have spent this break running a petition to support the rights of Burmese prisoners, or something smart and important like that. She would have maybe snuck out to a gig or insisted on a 48-hour marathon of screwball comedies. Instead, she was here.

There was a real barfight inside Jess’ chest. Part of him was happy just to see her. She may hate him, but he just couldn’t hate her. And even if he did, it wasn’t jack shit compared to the pounding of his heart. Her existence alone made him a puppy. It was kind of pathetic. Part of him was embarrassed. Not like he’d be less embarrassed for her to see him at any time these days. There was nothing in his life going on that could make her regret not taking him back. Unless she’d inexplicably gotten into sweaty hobos jumping from dead end job to dead end job just to meet rent and enough money for half a month’s worth of groceries. What a catch.

Part of him just hurt. Why did they have to see each other? Why did she have to look at him like that? Why did she have to run away? After all these months? After he’d finally told her-

“Jess Mariano!” Jess twisted his head to follow the sound of his name and saw a figure run towards him from the dark streets. The voice was familiar, naturally angry and kind of shrewd. Jess squinted his eyes to try and get a proper look of the person. It was a girl in a white dress with faint dots on it and a black cardigan. She held onto the edges of the sleeves of with her fingers, her arms moving back and forth as she marched. Her hair was a dirty blonde held up in a messy ponytail. Her frown was unmistakable.

“Paris?” Jess realized out loud, patting his cigarette to get some ash off. She grumbled as she closed in on him: “Fricking post-punk-looking, Bukowski-loving, school-ditching little jerk.” Jess was still processing the fact that she was even there. When was the last time he’d even seen the girl? Paris stopped mere inches from his face with a raised finger. “Boy, have you got some nerve coming all this way to torment Rory,” she said. Jess tried not to look at the building behind him to double check that it was there. “I work here,” he replied.

Paris widened her eyes. “Of course you do, a dead-end job for a dead-end boy. That’s what you get for dropping out on fundamental education.” Tell me something I don’t know, Jess thought to himself, and almost rolled his eyes before Paris wagged her finger again. “Well I’m here to tell you to stay far away from my friend, is that clear?” Now he rolled them. “Oh yeah, because a completely different state wasn’t enough,” Jess quipped and tilted his head forward, only to back up against the wall when Paris tried to jab her finger into his throat. “It wasn’t.”
“Florida wasn’t enough?”
“Siberia wouldn’t have been enough! You should be off the face of the earth!”
“Sorry, I don’t think I’ll qualify for NASA’s space program anytime soon.”
“How could you! The pain you put Rory through!” Jess raised his head to the sky. “The nerve you have to joke like nothing happened!” Paris continued.

“What else is there to fucking say?” Jess threw his arms out, a little bit of ash trickling down through his fingers. “How about I’m sorry? How about I’m a terrible person for leaving you without a word and never telling you what happened? How about begging on your knees for her forgiveness and promising to never bother her ever again?!” The look on Paris’ face was nearly insane. “Want me to clean her shoes while I’m down there?” Jess asked. Sure, he was pathetic, but he wasn’t that pathetic. Definitely not enough to take advice from Paris what-was-her-name without a second thought.

She scoffed. “I can’t believe she almost fell in love with you,” she sneered. God, don’t remind me. Jess managed to not visibly wince. “Well, clearly she didn’t,” he muttered. “And you did?” Paris scowled. Jess felt his blood rush. “I did,” he declared instinctually. “Then why didn’t you ever tell her?” Paris almost yelled now. “I did!” Jess actually yelled back.

Paris froze. “You did?” She stepped back, eyes turning glassy. Jess swallowed. Shit, he’d really just said all of that out loud. “Need it in print?” he tried to quip, but it just came out bitter. Paris forcibly scowled at him again. “When did you tell her?” she interrogated. Jess didn’t bother to cower. “A couple months ago,” he sighed. “I came back to town to get my car, she was there, I-… I couldn’t leave without saying it.” All the anger in the girl slipped out of her. “She didn’t tell me. Why didn’t she tell me?”

Jess wasn’t really sure what to say, but then he didn’t have to either, as another pair of steps rushed towards them from where Paris had run from. “Paris!” Jess instantly recognized Lane coming towards them as she panted. If Rory in Miami during Spring Break was a surprise, Lane Kim in Miami during Spring Break was the same as flying pigs. “What is this, a Romy and Michelle’s High School Reunion?” Jess mumbled to himself while Paris turned around.

“I told you to stay with Rory, where is she?” Paris ordered. Lane stopped in front of them and held onto her knees for support as she caught her breath. “I lost her.” “You what.” Paris’ voice was dark. Lane rose up to explain: “We were back in the room and we’d turned on Campbell again and I was going to the vending machine to get Hershey’s bars and I was gone for literally two seconds and when I came back she was gone.” “Are you serious?!” Paris exclaimed. “She could be anywhere! Where the hell do we even start!” Lane started circling herself. “What if she got kidnapped?” she started as she paced. “What if she got tricked into an orgy with Madeline and Louise for free drinks? She left her phone, oh what if she’s gone completely off grid? What if she decided to hitchhike across the country and accidentally got into the truck of serial killer?”

That made Paris snap into reason. “Okay Rory is not that stupid.” She straightened her stance and started gesticulating. “Here’s what we do. I go back to the hotel and look for Rory. I’ll call Madeline to see if she’s seen her, get Glenn and Janet on it if I find them too. You…” she said and brought her finger back up. “… are going to watch Danny Zuko over here. And try to keep him in your sight this time.” Paris threw Jess one last glare before she started sprinting in the direction she came from. “Hey, two seconds! I was gone for two seconds!” Lane shouted behind her without a response. Then she just stood there, looking out into the dark. She waited for minutes that felt like hours to finally turn around.

“Hi,” Jess awkwardly let out. Lane’s pout turned into a scowl. “Don’t even try it,” she said, folding her arms. “Try what?” She squinted angrily. “You know exactly what.” If this had been a year ago, Jess would probably have probed. Asked her if she found him charming. Play-sing ‘Why Can’t We Be Friends’ at her. Instead, he sighed and checked his cigarette pack for comfort. It was empty. Shit.

“Welp, if you don’t mind I’ve got a shift to finish,” Jess declared and pushed himself off the wall. Lane’s eyes widened. “Oh no you don’t, I’m not letting you out of my sight!” Jesus fucking Christ. Maybe the shift had been too long. Maybe he hadn’t had enough sleep. Maybe he needed another smoke. Maybe seeing the love of his life run away from him again was the second to last drop, but Jess was done. “Alright what the hell is the deal?” he yelled. Lane closed her mouth. Good, now I can say my piece. “You know, it was one thing to have an entire town watch over their shoulders at me like I’m Charles Manson when all I did was steal a gnome, but now? Here? It’s been years. I’m on the other side of the country, Lane. I’m just here to do some shitty work, get paid and then go back home and cross my fingers that my roommates haven’t replaced me.”

Lane stuttered. “You’re right, I- sorry-” “No you don’t get it,” Jess raised his hand. The floodgates were open, and he wasn’t closing them anytime soon. “I’m exhausted. You think I don’t know what I put Rory through? You think I don’t get why Luke kicked me out?” “Luke kicked you out?” “-I went to California for a reason. I decided to stay away from Rory. I get that she’s better off without me, so stop reminding me every time you see me across the damn street.” Jess gasped for air. His chest hurt. He grabbed at his own hair. “Did it ever occur to you that it hurt me too? Shit, maybe that’s what all of you wanted all this time, well congratu-fucking-lations, you’ve got it.”

Jess was about to turn to the staff entrance when he felt a force crash into him and wrap its arms around him. He froze in Lane’s embrace. Well, that was new. As he heard sniffs into his shoulder, Jess looked around himself, not knowing what to do. “You stupid stupid stupid boy,” Lane declared muffled. She let go off him and met his eyes. Hers were puffy and wet. “Why do you finally act like a person at the worst fricking time?” she asked in a half-sob. Jess swallowed awkwardly. “Guess I never got the updated calendar,” he shrugged. Lane groaned and pushed him so hard he had to find his footing again. It actually made him chuckle. He could see she was trying not to smile. Then her eyes got dark.

“My mom kicked me out.” Jess stiffened. “She finally found out her daughter digs Satan’s tunes and, uh, maybe disowned me,” Lane tried to smile half-heartedly. “I don’t know, at least I can’t live in the house anymore.” “Shit,” Jess mumbled. “Yeah,” Lane chuckled. Jess looked down at the pavement. He couldn’t say it was surprising, but he’d never imagined it would happen either. He looked back up at Lane. She looked so fragile. He’d rarely seen people like that, not bothering to hide the pain, right in front of him. The only one he remembered right now was Rory when Dean dumped her.

“Welcome to the club,” Jess finally said. “We’ve got mommy issues and an addiction to underground rock.” Lane let out a quick laugh. He felt relief over seeing her smile. “How do you…” she began, voice weak. “…get by, knowing that your parent’s might not- love you. As you really are.” Jess exhaled and pondered on it. Wasn’t that how he’d lived his entire life? There must have been some time while he was still a tiny kid that he’d felt loved by Liz at least, but after everything that had happened with and without her, he’d forgotten when. He’d forgotten what it felt like. But at the same time, when he really thought about it: “I don’t know.” Lane’s brows furrowed at that. Jess smirked sadly. “Let me know when you figure it out?” he asked her. She huffed into a smile. “Sure.”

Jess hesitated but decided to go for it. It was weird night anyway. “How’s uh, how’s Rory?” Lane grimaced. “I thought I knew, but I honestly don’t anymore,” she replied, tired. “Everything seemed fine. You know Rory, she’s got her Sandra Dee Disney Princess poise. Even when she let me crash over Christmas. But now…” Lane laced her fingers together. “I think she’s been pretending to be a lot more over you than she actually is.” Jess took it in. Was that a good thing? Bad? What if not being over him meant she hated his guts instead of loving him back? He wanted to study Lane’s expression for either direction, but all he saw was worry.

“I know the rape risk spots if you’re really worried.” He let the idea hang in the air. Lane frowned: “Paris-” “I’ll stay away, I promise. The second you see her I’ll go poof into the night. Batman-style, I swear,” he insisted with raised arms. Lane hugged herself tighter before she relented: “Okay.” “Okay,” Jess echoed. “Let me just clock out first.”

Jess opened the staff door and let Lane follow him through the corridors to the entrance of the back of the bar. “Dana!” Jess yelled over loud beats. Dana turned around from a sea of drunks. “What!” he barely heard back. “I’m leaving for the night!”
“What?! No!”
“Sorry, it’s an emergency!”
“This whole hour is an emergency!”
“Somebody could be in danger!”
“You think we’ll survive being understaffed?! Tonight?!”
“You’ll be fine! You’ve got Tim!”
“Tim can’t mix drinks for shit!”
“Thanks for understanding!”
“I’ll rat your teenage ass to Mike!”
“You can’t afford to lose me!”

“Fuck off, Yankee!”
“See ya tomorrow!” Jess closed the door before Dana could come after him in a rage. Lane stared frightened between Jess and the door. “Clubbing, am I right,” he grinned bitterly, and then they went out.

-

One hour later, they still hadn’t found Rory. At least they knew she wasn’t in the shady areas because they’d checked them. Lane had been extra on edge around the big crowds of drunk frat guys. Jess had told her to ignore howling and keep her eyes on the front, and luck be a lady they’d managed to get by. Now they’d made it to a motel right on the beach at about 3 AM. The terrasse and general second floor was packed with exhausted kids trying to get out just one more dance move. A lot of them were coupling up and sneaking past each other into rooms. The stench – a mix of alcohol and puke and chlorine – was disgusting. But not too shocking for Jess, considering his current place of employment.

Jess could see Lane twitching nervously from the corner of his eye. “Don’t panic,” he muttered slowly. “I’m not panicking,” she said panicky. “Your eyes could pop right out of your skull and it wouldn’t shock anyone within a five mile radius,” Jess insisted. “It’s been hours,” Lane said, wild gaze turning to him. “An hour and a half.”
“I abandoned my best friend to die. I’m going to hell and this is why.”
“I thought it was the drumming.”
“Screw you.”
“Might as well curse, Patty Schemel, it’s punk rock.”
“Lane!”

Both of them found the oh so welcome scowl of Paris as she marched over from what looked like the lobby area. “Are you seriously this incompetent? I told you to keep him away!” Lane’s panic-face switched to defensive: “You said to watch over him, I’ve still got him under control!” Paris groaned. “He’s helped me look for Rory, he’s been really helpful-” Lane tried but Paris interjected with a horror expression: “I’m sure he has been, at scaring her away even more!” Lane put her hands on her hips. “Hey, we checked all the shadiest areas at least, what have you been doing huh? Tonguing innocent passersby for attention?” Paris started blushing furiously. Jess wasn’t sure if he wanted to leave or make himself comfortable for a full evening of whatever was happening in front of him. “I’ll have you know that I’ve mobilized the entire motel staff to search for Rory!” Paris argued. “You sure they didn’t just take your money and quit to go buy a house in the suburbs?” “Don’t be stupid!” “We don’t all have McDuck money, Paris-”

While the girls continued their catfight, Jess looked around at the area to see if he recognized anything. Around the motel he saw mostly strangers. Some he recognized as ‘memorable’ clients at the venue. Some guys who’d tried to corner Dana when she was coming back from the storage room. A pair of blonde twins that would keep coming to the bar with new guys buying their drinks. A duo of a black-haired girl and a blonde who’d do the same. But no Rory.

Jess looked away from the motel towards the ocean. It was almost pitch black. The light from the buildings only reached so far into the sand, before everything became dark shades of blue. The more Jess looked into it though, the more detailed the blue got. He saw some left-over chairs. He saw ridges in the sand. He saw the lighter streams morphing into the shore, leaving and returning endlessly. It was weirdly peaceful, for all the noise it made. One of the only things he’d actually liked in his short time in Miami. The sea was warm enough to dip into here. Clean enough, relatively speaking. Jess let his eyes wander across the shore, taking in the smell of salt as he saw the waves building and crashing over and over again.

He knew it was her the second he saw her shape. A black silhouette crouched down on the sand, only a stone throw away from the water. Paris’ and Lane’s arguing became white noise. The bodies walking around him got blurry. There she was.

Jess should probably tell the girls. Somewhere inside him, there was a part that knew he’d made some promise to Lane, that it was their job to run over to her and get her back into their room, washed and hydrated and safe away from him. Always. How much of an asshole would he be for breaking that promise?

He still walked over without a second thought. It didn’t feel like a conscious choice. Just a wired moth making its way to the light. Like it does. That was how it really felt for him. As he walked over, the noises of the motel disappeared, and the sand and sea became clearer. Each step sounded grainier, louder, than before. Maybe he should turn back. Maybe he was disturbing her. She clearly wanted to be alone, or she wouldn’t have been MIA for so long. He found that he stopped two steps away from her.

“I’m fine Paris, I just- need to some time alone.” Her voice was so soft, but in Jess’ head it was louder than anything he’d heard all night. He couldn’t even think of responding, he just soaked in her voice. Rory was sat down on her knees, shoulders hunched and wrapped in a blue blanket. So still. She turned her head just a bit: “Seriously, I’m-” Rory stopped before she could get into profile. What Jess could see of her eyes was looking at the sand.

“Jess?”  It was frail, the way she said his name. He opened his mouth, but his throat was so dry. She turned her head to the shore again. Silence. He should go. She didn’t want him there, this was stupid, he didn’t even know what say, why was he here- “If you’re gonna stay you might as well sit down.” Like a freshly trained puppy, Jess jerked his body into motion. He sat down slowly and clumsily next to her, not quite able to look at her yet. So, he looked at the ocean instead.

Rory kind of giggled to herself. “Of all the gin joints, right?” “Tell me about it,” Jess tried, a stiff smile plastered on. It went quiet for another minute. “I needed air,” Rory said, almost robotic. Jess couldn’t think of any other response than nodding. “I- I’ve had a lot to drink- crap, what was in the punch,” she trailed off, and Jess saw her pull a hand to her forehead from the corner of his eye. “I wouldn’t know,” he found himself smirking, and dared to face her. “I never got to make you anything at the club.”

Rory stiffened. The hand fell down and she stared off into the distance, pained. He’d said something wrong. Of course. He never could rely on that verbal thing. Rory shook her head and turned it towards him, without meeting his eyes: “So what are you doing here?” “Work,” Jess replied small. “I didn’t think this was your scene.” “Roommate talked me into it, said it’d be good money.” “Oh,” Rory nodded. “Why won’t you leave me alone?”

Ouch. “I thought I was,” Jess asked, trying not to get mad. “No you haven’t,” Rory snapped, furrowing her brows. “You’ve said it but you keep just not doing that. You could’ve stayed at your job and instead you chased me down, you could have left Stars Hollow before I came back from my grandparents- you could’ve left before you-…” Rory quickly met his eyes and winced away. Jess knew what she wanted to say but he needed her to finish the sentence. “… said that.”

Jess winced himself. “I just couldn’t leave without telling you,” he admitted. “Looks like I was too late,” he muttered, more to himself than her. Rory shook her head furiously: “No, no you don’t get to do that.” She locked her eyes with him, fiercely. “You can’t just leave without a single warning with no way to reach you and then expect me to wait for you. I, I promised myself not to be that pathetic…” Jess couldn’t look away from her now that she was staring at him. Every word coming out of her mouth hurt but he’d missed those eyes more than anything. “You left. You screwed everything up and when you had a chance to fix it you just left. And the one time you come back you avoid me like I’m it and then you make it all even worse. What am I supposed to do? Forgive you? Take you back?” “You weren’t supposed to do anything,” Jess tried. “I just-” “Just what?” Jess’ mouth was dry. “I was hoping you’d say it back.”
“After two seconds?”
“Later. Anytime since.”
“How?”
“I don’t know, phone?”
“With what number?!”

Shit. Jess grimaced. “I screwed up,” he said, honestly. Rory’s gaze was flaming. “Yeah. You did. But I was the one stuck with it.” She shook her head again. “How can I-…” Her eyes got glossy. Her shoulders tensed. “How can I love you when you’re not there?”

Jess’ eyes hurt. He could feel something warm trail down one cheek. He suddenly realized he wasn’t breathing and took a deep one. “I’m sorry,” he said, wiping that wet thing away quick and hard. Rory finally started crying. She kept her mouth close with a fist to it. Then she gasped in a sob: “Did you even mean it?” She looked to him again, cheeks stained. “Was this just another prank? Is this funny to you?” Jess sneered: “Don’t you dare say that.” She closed her mouth, but her eyes stayed angry. But he wasn’t cowering.

“It was never a joke to me and you know it. I meant it. I love you. I know. I knew it the first time I saw you two years ago, I still do. Just because you don’t love me back doesn’t change that.” His chest was aching, but somehow it felt lighter. There it was. Now she couldn’t deny it anymore. She could hate him all she’d like, but she couldn’t pretend he was anything but who he was. Jess stared at Rory. Her expression changed slowly, from angry to sad to something he couldn’t place. “I didn’t say I didn’t love you.”

Something in Jess jolted awake. “Do you?” he asked, almost instinctually. Rory froze. Her mouth open, eyes flickering in fear. “I… I shouldn’t,” she tried. “That’s not what I asked,” Jess countered, uncomfortably calm. “I can’t afford to love you right now,” Rory shook her head. “Can’t because you can’t or can’t because you won’t?” Rory swallowed. The stared at each other for ages. Jess couldn’t even blink. Another tear trickled down her face and Rory looked down at the sand. “Loving you won’t change anything,” she said. Jess couldn’t let go. “Whatever the truth is I need you to say it.” She kept looking at the sand. “Please,” he begged. She looked up at him again. She took a deep breath.

“I love you,” she said.

Her face was puffy and tearstained. Her expression was angry and defeated. The three words coming out of her mouth warmed Jess’ entire body. And they hurt like nothing had before. “Huh,” he let out, kind of like a sob. “Yeah,” she echoed weakly. The ocean waves came onto shore and crawled back into the sea again. “What do we do now?” Rory asked him. Jess sighed: “I don’t know.”

They stared at each other for just a little bit more. Jess took in the sight of her. Everything from the sand on her legs to the wrinkles of the blanket to her face. Something in it shifted, just a little bit, to something the kid he used to be would have called hope. He wouldn’t mind grabbing on to it. Whatever this thing they’d just had was, it wasn’t the end. They turned their heads to the sea together, looking at the blue-black nothingness.

And then a shape grew out of it. “What’s that?” Rory asked as the shape cleared up. A pasty pale guy rose from the water, stumbling onto sand with ginger hair and glasses somehow perfectly on him. “Holy shit,” Jess let out. As the guy stood up, he revealed a giant, inked heart on his chest. Rory called out next to Jess: “Glenn! What happened to you!” Jess flipped his head around. “You know him?” he mumbled. They came closer, and Jess could see a name at the center of the heart. “The last time we saw you, you went to get a hotdog,” Rory continued. “Hotdog?” the guy said in a squeaky voice. “Hotdog?” he repeated, and then he walked off past them mumbling it a couple more times.

“Ah!” he yelled all of a sudden and started running in zigzags behind them. Jess and Rory watched him go before they turned back to each other. “This has been a really weird trip,” Rory said to him. Jess nodded in agreement. He didn’t know what else she’d been up to on her break, but what he’d seen himself was pretty messed up. Rory’s face scrunched in on itself. “I think I need to puke,” she said. Jess smirked and started to get up, lifting Rory with him. “Come on, let’s get some water in you,” he said. She leaned against him as they walked towards the motel. It was a tiny thing, but it felt like a welcome home.