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When they arrived at the venue, The Distillers had already started playing. Rory asked a girl on her side how many songs they had missed and she and her friends started debating whether it was four or five.
Rory turned to Jess, who had one hand on her waist, the other shoved in his pocket, his eyes fixed on the stage.
“Sorry we’re late,” she leaned in closer to his ear. He pretended not to hear that, and instead of replying, he leaned in closer to her, their lips hovering less than an inch apart.
He met her lips, soft at first, but soon Rory melted into it as she usually did. His hand came up to cradle the side of her neck, thumb brushing her jaw. Her hand slid up his chest, her fingers clutching at his shirt.
His other hand pulled her closer by the waist, guiding her closer until there was no space left between them. The kiss deepened, hotter, messier. The kind that made her mind go blissfully blank. Jess groaned softly against her lips and she felt him everywhere.
When they finally came up for air, their foreheads rested together, both breathing hard, lips swollen, eyes still closed like they weren’t ready to let go yet.
“What were you saying?” He asked with a smirk, slightly breathless.
“Thank you,” she replied under her breath. “I said thank you.”
He smiled. “Let’s try to get closer to the stage.”
She nodded and he took her hand, moving almost effortlessly through the crowd, like an old habit.
The crowd pressed in around them, warm and restless. It was freezing outside, but in here, packed shoulder to shoulder with strangers, the air was thick with heat and noise. Rory unbuttoned her coat, cheeks already flushed. Maybe from the music, maybe from the kiss, maybe both.
Jess pulled his hood off, hair mussed from sweat and the heat. A few people bumped into them as the crowd surged again, but neither of them seemed to care. Rory looked over at him and caught a flash of that crooked smile, the one that said he was having a better time than he’d ever admit out loud.
He tugged her closer and kissed her again. Less frantic than before, more controlled. Still hot, still hungry, but slower now, like they had time. She smiled into it, hands resting lightly on his chest before sliding up around his neck.
Someone bumped them, hard, and they broke apart, laughing. Jess rolled his eyes and turned back to the stage. Rory shoved him gently with her elbow.
They went back to watching the band, swaying a little with the music, not speaking for a while, just listening, soaking it in. Occasionally their arms brushed, and once, during another fast-paced song, Jess turned to her and shouted something she didn’t catch. She didn’t ask him to repeat it. She just grabbed his face and kissed him again.
The night air hit them like a wall the second they stepped out of the venue: sharp, biting cold that felt almost foreign after the heat of the crowd. Rory buttoned her coat up all the way, her scarf tightening around her neck, her gloves back in her hands, while Jess put back his hood and shoved his hands deep into his coat pockets.
They didn’t talk much as they walked back to his car, the buzz of the show still lingering between them
Once they were inside, the doors shut out the wind, but the windows quickly fogged with leftover warmth and breath. Jess glanced over his shoulder, then jerked his chin toward the back seat.
Rory didn’t hesitate.
He followed her over the console, landing half on top of her with a muffled laugh, his hand already tugging her coat open. She met him there, lips finding his like it was second nature now, familiar and charged. His fingers slid into her hair, hers curled around his shirt again, tugging him closer. The car rocked slightly with the movement, the windows steaming more with every breathless kiss.
She pulled back for a second, breathless, resting her forehead against his.
“Hey,” she called, “What are we doing tomorrow?” she asked softly, fingers still resting lightly at the base of his neck.
Jess stayed close, his eyes flicking to hers. “I have to work,” he said. “I’ll call you once I’m out?”
She nodded, but something in her face shifted, just a flicker, subtle, but there. The kind of change you’d miss if you didn’t know her. Jess did.
Lorelai’s words came to him. He studied her for a second, then said, “Actually... can we meet at three?”
Rory looked up at him, surprised. “Yeah. Okay.”
But she didn’t smile. She didn’t say anything else.
Jess narrowed his eyes, brushing her hair back behind her ear. “Are you okay? You seem a little… off.”
She shrugged. “I’m just tired. And the application stuff has been a lot.”
“Harvard,” he said, almost like a question.
“Yeah.” She gave a small laugh, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Still feels weird to say it out loud.”
He nodded, but didn’t say anything more.
Because he knew.
He knew that her life was already shifting toward somewhere far away. Knew that every hour he picked up at Walmart or the diner, every shift he covered, every rain gutter he cleaned wasn’t just for gas money or daily expenses. It was for her. For them. He hadn’t told her that part. He didn’t plan to.
Rory leaned back against the seat, tugging her coat closed again. “Can you take me home?”
“Sure,” he replied, restrained. Then, he looked at her for a second longer. “You’ll tell me if something’s bothering you, right?”
She nodded. “I will. I promise. I just need some sleep.”
He didn’t push. Just crawled back into the front seat, turned the key, and drove her home in silence, the kind that didn’t need filling. But even with the heater on, the car felt colder now.
When they arrived at her house, she kissed him, thanked him for the evening, for the ride, but it was quick. And he knew she was holding back. He watched her as she went inside before he pulled out of her driveway and back to Luke’s.
Jess Mariano pushed the door open quietly, careful not to let it creak. He shrugged off his jacket, already preparing an excuse in case Luke asked why he was late again. But he wasn’t expecting what was waiting for him in the living room.
“Where the hell have you been?”
Jess jumped, his hand jerking off the doorknob as the voice startled him. The apartment was nearly pitch black, the only light coming from the weak glow of the streetlamp outside, casting long shadows through the slats of the blinds. He hadn’t seen Luke at first. He had assumed the place was empty, silent. Maybe Luke had gone out with Nicole. Or maybe he was asleep. But now, from the corner near the window, he could make out his uncle’s figure, rigid and still in the armchair like he’d been sitting there a while… waiting.
Jess tried to cover the surprise with a scoff, though his voice came out sharper than intended.
“Jeez. What are you doing sitting in the dark waiting for me?”
Luke leaned forward just enough for Jess to see the tension in his jaw. The older man’s voice was low but rigid.
“Answer me first.”
Jess rolled his eyes and walked across the room, sitting on the edge of the bed to remove his shoes. “I was out,” he replied without looking his uncle in the eyes.
Luke stood slowly, arms crossed tightly over his chest. “No shit, Sherlock. Out where?”
Jess turned toward him with a smirk. “No shit, Sherlock,” he echoed huffing a laughter. “Really?”
“Again. Answer me first.”
Jess’s jaw tightened. His sarcasm faltered for a split second. “I was out with Rory, why do you care?”
“The hell you were.”
Jess blinked. The response hit him with more force than he expected. His eyebrows furrowed, a hint of confusion starting to seep into his expression.
“Okay, what’s going on?”
Luke stood abruptly, grabbing something from the table and stalking over to the small kitchen counter. He hit a button on the answering machine, and Rory’s voice echoed through the space.
“It’s me. I just want to let you know that this is the last weekend I spend sitting around like an idiot—”
He paused the message mid-sentence and turned back to Jess, eyes narrowed.
“So, what do you have to say for yourself?”
Luke’s voice was steady, but it vibrated with restrained fury. He stood by the counter now, arms tense at his sides, the answering machine still glowing faintly beside him. The pause button blinked like a warning.
Jess didn’t move. His arms hung loose at his sides. He glanced at the floor, then at Luke, then away again.
“Nothing.”
The word came out too quickly, like a reflex. A wall.
“Nothing?” Luke’s voice cracked just slightly, just enough to betray that this wasn’t just anger. He wasn’t just mad. He was disappointed.
Jess shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. He shifted his weight, lifting his chin as if daring Luke to keep going. “That’s right.”
Luke took a slow breath, clearly working to hold himself together. His eyes narrowed, brows furrowed with disbelief.
“Jess, you can’t do that.”
“Will you relax? All’s good. This was before.” Jess’s voice was clipped, trying too hard to sound casual.
“This was tonight, Jess.”
“I know. But it was before.” Jess looked away, jaw tense. He was walking a tightrope now, and he knew it.
“Before what?” Luke’s eyes narrowed.
“Look, I was at work, then I went to get tickets for a concert and I met Rory at the hockey game afterwards.”
“Rory at the hockey game? You gotta work on your lies.” Luke laughed once, bitter and humorless. He shook his head, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“Believe what you want.”
“Whatever, I’m done with you.” Luke moved toward the door, grabbing his coat from the hook with sharp, angry movements.
“Where are you going?”
“Out,” Luke replied. “Isn’t that how you say it? I can’t be around you right now.”
The door slammed shut before Jess could respond. The echo vibrated in the silence that followed.
He stood still for a long moment, staring at the closed door. Maybe Luke would come back. Maybe this would blow over like all the other fights. But when he heard the bell downstairs jingle and another door slam, the reality sank in. Luke was really gone, and Jess was really alone.
He let out a breath through his nose and ran a hand through his hair. His gaze drifted back to the answering machine, its small red light still blinking like an accusation. Rory’s voice, her frustration, her disappointment, still lingered in the air. She’d told him not to play the message. She’d trusted him to respect that. But now…
Now, it was already in his head. The tone, the words. Part of it had already been heard, and the rest felt like it was clawing at his chest, demanding attention.
Jess crossed the room slowly, hesitated for only a second, then hit play.
“It’s me. I just want to let you know that this is the last weekend I spend sitting around like an idiot hoping you’ll call, okay? I’m not going to be that girl. From now on I want a plan. I mean a real plan. With a time and a place and I’m tired of hearing ‘let’s hook up later.’ What does that mean, anyway? What’s ‘later’? How do I set my watch to ‘later’? ‘Later’ doesn’t cut it anymore, got it? And yeah, you know, maybe I am spoiled. But, guess what? I like being spoiled. I plan to go on being spoiled. And if that doesn’t sound like something that you can or want to do, then, fine. I’m sure that you’ll find another girl who doesn’t mind sitting around cleaning her keyboard on a Friday night hoping you’ll call, but it’s not going to be me! ... Oh, yeah, this is a message for Jess.”
The machine clicked off, but Jess didn’t move. His jaw was clenched, eyes fixed on a spot on the floor. He inhaled shakily, then exhaled, forcing back the tightness rising in his throat.
He pressed play again.