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RORY AND PARIS
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ONE OF THE GREATEST LOVE STORIES OF OUR TIME
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me.
Rating: PG-13
Author: Fontana777
Email: xj74us@yahoo.com
Sin City
The Young the Brave and the Beautiful First there was all-American boy Dean. Then spoiled rich kid Tristan. Then the rough kid from the wrong side of the tracks, Jess. All three archetypal American types. All three sought the hand of the fair Rory. But it’s my contention that only butch dyke Paris is truly worthy of America’s golden girl.
2. Chapter Two 3. Chapter Three 4. Chapter Four 5. Chapter Five Chapter One
The Gathering Storm
The driving rain beat relentlessly against Rory’s unsettled heart. Filled with foreboding, she pushed anxiously across the drenched courtyard at Chilton, fighting her way towards the entrance, as the ominous sky convulsed with deafening thunderbursts. Damn, Rory thought to herself, why didn’t I bring my umbrella? When I stepped out the house this morning I could see a storm was gathering. Damn!
Yes, indeed, a storm was gathering.
The day went by surprisingly fast for Rory. Differential equations, the sonnets of Keats, molecular biology, all merged in a blur in Rory’s brain. But the incandescent brilliance that was Rory’s mind handled it all with ease, machine-like, like a Cray II supercomputer. Her mind was focused - razor-sharp - in the cold gray classrooms. But her unsettled heart was somewhere else.
Rory’s love life was in ruins. Dean – gone. The Dean-Rory-Jess triangle had taken its toll, and finally Dean told Rory enough is enough, and folded up his tent and moved on. Word had it he was dating a shapely redhead in his senior class with a penchant for tight jeans and Yoplait yogurt at every meal. Dean had playfully nicknamed her “Yo.” Jess – gone too. Yes, he still cared for her, perhaps in his heart of hearts even loved her. They had dated after Dean broke up with her. But always Jess had the feeling that Rory’s heart was somewhere else. But how could that be? Hadn’t he waited patiently all that time for her to break up with Dean? And wasn’t it Rory who kissed him in the park at Sookie’s wedding? And wasn’t it Rory who cast all those looks of longing at him while he was dating Shane? So how could it be that, now that they were a couple, Rory’s heart seemed to be somewhere else? Could it be that Rory was one of those people who, once they possessed something, was no longer interested in it? Could it be that, now that he was hers, she wanted to get back with Dean, whom she no longer possessed? Jess decided he was not going to be anybody’s fool, even for Rory. So even though she denied repeatedly that she was thinking of Dean, Jess’ heart told him it wasn’t true. He decided to end their relationship.
But what Rory couldn’t tell Jess, and even couldn’t admit to herself, was that her heart was somewhere else. But it wasn’t images of Dean that filled her heart. It was images of – Paris. Yes, Paris. Paris in Washington. It had a nice ring to it, didn’t it? Rory could see it with crystal clarity: Her hand gliding a brush through Paris’ soft hair; Paris’ oddly beautiful face as it reflected in a dewy mirror; the gentle movement of Paris’ hand as she traced her lipstick across her lips after her morning shower. These were images from that strange, wacky, hectic summer in Washington. But images she couldn’t shake, that stayed with her with a power that frightened her.
Rory stood at her locker, stuffing her books in her backpack. Her last class, Eighteenth Century History, was over. She was ready to call it a day. She was tired. Paris walked up.
“I hear you and Jess broke up,” Paris said.
“Who told you that?” Rory snapped.
“The horse’s mouth.”
“And why would you be talking to Jess?”
“Oh, I call him every now and then, to see how things are going between you two. I mean, we are friends, right?”
Rory stuffed the last book in her backpack and zipped it up. Paris stepped in front of her, blocking her path.
“Rory, can I ask you something?”
“What?”
“Did you and Jess ever, you know…”
Rory’s eyebrows shot up. She knew exactly what “you know” meant, and she didn’t like it one damn bit!
“I don’t think that’s any of your business… Did Jess say anything to you?”
“Of course not. Jess would never do that. You know that… What about you and Dean?”
“What are you, my friggin’ mother? Look, Paris, I don’t have time for this.”
Angered, Rory stepped around Paris and started down the hallway. Then, suddenly, she stopped. She turned back sharply to Paris.
“Well, have you?” Rory accosted her.
“No… Not that the opportunity is ever going to present itself, of course. But no, I’m still the big ‘V’.”
Rory softened a bit.
“Well, so am I. And I can’t believe I told you that.”
Paris stared deeply into Rory’s eyes, and Rory stared back. Rory tried not to stare, but couldn’t help herself. That hard face, those moist lips. Those lips that had haunted her all summer long, as much as she tried to deny it.
Paris tried to restrain a smile, but couldn’t. She knew she had heard what she wanted to hear.
“That calc test on Monday is going to be a killer. I thought maybe we could study together tonight. Kinda like a study date. Well, not a ‘date’ date, you know…”
“That would be fine,” Rory said, a sense of resignation in her voice, as if recognizing a part of her was succumbing to the inevitable.
“OK… I’ll see you tonight then,” Paris said.
Paris’ smile grew wider. Rory maintained her discipline and kept her lips tight. She turned and left.
Rory pulled up in her jeep to her grandmother’s house around 3:30 pm. The rain had stopped and the skies had cleared. The feeling of foreboding Rory had felt earlier had eased. But was it because of the clearing skies, or her “date” with Paris? she wondered.
She approached the door and rang the familiar doorbell. Emily answered.
“Well, come in Rory. How are you?”
“Fine, Grandma.”
Rory entered.
“Now take your coat off and I’ll get you some tea. It is chilly out there today. Oh, the rain has been terrible. But it is that time of year.”
“Well, actually, it’s starting to warm up. There’s blue sky over to the east. So I think we’ve finished with the rain for a while.”
Emily led her into the living room. “Please, sit down.”
“That’s OK. I really can’t stay long.”
“Hmm. You look different, Rory. More at peace. I know with college applications and everything, you’ve been under a lot of pressure lately.”
“No, I’m the same.”
“If you say so… Well, how can I help you? I mean, it’s not our dinner night. It’s only Thursday. You didn’t get the days mixed up, did you?”
“Oh, no. I know it’s Thursday…” Rory hesitated. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what she wanted to say. “Grandma, I’ll say this straight out. I wish to borrow your black pearl necklace.”
“Pardon me?” Emily said, stunned. Rory stiffened.
“I wish to borrow your black pearl necklace.”
“Rory, that necklace is priceless.”
Rory didn’t say a word. But her expression spoke volumes. It said, I am a Gilmore. I am the great hope of the Gilmore clan. But it said even more. It said, I am America’s golden child. I am entitled. You can trust me with the necklace.
Emily must have been good at reading expressions, because without saying a word, she turned and led Rory into the den. She opened up the top drawer on the desk, and took out a little black book and a key. She then walked over to a painting on the far wall and tugged at it. The painting swung open on hidden hinges, revealing a safe recessed in the wall. Reading from the black book, she punched the combination into the safe’s keypad. The door to the safe opened. Amid the cash, gold, and valuable papers in the safe, she found a metal box and took it out and placed it on the desk. She opened the metal box with the key. Inside the box was a flat, square, wide jewelry box.
“You know this necklace once belonged to the Empress of France, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“And you also know my mother never wore this necklace. And I’ve never worn it. And your mother certainly has never worn it. You know that, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
She handed the jewelry box to Rory.
“Thank you,” Rory said.
“It must be someone very special… Please tell me it’s not that Jess fellow. He’s much too much the ruffian for my tastes.”
Rory turned away and rolled her eyes. She turned back to her grandmother.
“No, it’s not Jess… As a matter of fact, you know this person. This person comes from a family of immense power and wealth.”
Emily’s eyeballs damn near jumped out their sockets. This was what she wanted to hear after all these years!
“Well tell me! Who is it!”
Rory winked mischievously at Emily.
“You’re not going to tell me who it is?” Emily cried.
“A girl is entitled to keep some secrets, isn’t she?”
Emily was astonished at Rory’s reticence. Rory placed the jewelry box in her backpack and zipped up the backpack tightly. She turned and left, hopped in her jeep, and drove off.
Emily wasted no time. She rushed over to the phone and called Lorelai at the Inn.
“Hello?” Lorelai answered, as she stood at the front desk, shuffling through a stack of papers.
“Lorelai, this is Emily!”
“Calm down, Ma. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. Listen, Lorelai. I want you tell me all about this new young man in Rory’s life.”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
“Of course you do. Rory was just here, and she wanted to borrow my black pearl necklace, and I said yes –”
“What! You never lend that necklace out. You’ve never worn that necklace. Heck, you never let me borrow it, for chrissakes!”
“And I never will either… That necklace is irreplaceable. I’d be afraid you’d lose it.”
“But you let Rory borrow it?”
“Yes… Now tell me about this young man. Rory said that I knew this boy, and that he came from a very powerful, very wealthy family. I asked her who, but she was all coy with me and wouldn’t tell me who it was. I assume they have a date tonight.”
“I don’t know, Ma. Rory called me this afternoon and said she was going over to her friend Paris’ house to study. That’s all I know.”
“Well obviously that’s a ruse. Her and her friend Paris must have hot dates with appropriate young men. Thank god. Finally.”
“When I see Rory tonight I’ll ask her about it.”
“Well find out. And please call me. Right away.”
“I will. Goodbye.”
Lorelai hung up the phone, a concerned look on her face. She left the front desk and walked into the kitchen. Sookie was preparing for the dinner rush.
“Is something wrong?” Sookie asked.
“Oh, no,” Lorelai said. Seeing that Sookie wasn’t convinced, she added, “I was just talking to my mom on the phone. Rory told me earlier she was going over to Paris’ house to study. But then she went over to my mom’s house and borrowed her black pearl necklace and told her she had a date with some guy. So I’m wondering if Rory’s lying to me or what.”
“Rory wouldn’t lie like that. I’m sure there must be an explanation… Isn’t that the necklace your great-grandmother -”
“Got from a French countess. Originally it belonged to the Empress Josephine. But after Napoleon was defeated at Waterloo, the French government had it auctioned off, along with a lot of other state jewels, because they were desperate for money. I mean, all those years of war had left the country bankrupt. The countess’ grandfather bought the necklace at one of the auctions. Eventually the countess inherited it.
“Anyway, the countess, who was gay, was knocking boots with some artist. The artist’s lesbian lover found out, went bonkers, killed her, and was chasing the countess down the streets of Paris with a pistol. The countess ducked into an alley, and my great-grandmother, who was in Paris on vacation at the time, spotted her. She offered to give the necklace to my great-grandmother if she would hide her in her hotel room. My great-grandmother did. So the countess lived, probably to screw some other French lesbian artist – hey, they don’t call it ‘gay Parie’ for nothing, I guess - and my great-grandmother got the necklace. My family has had it ever since.
“My grandmother had it appraised during the Depression, and even back then it was worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. So you can imagine how much it’s worth today.”
“Hot… Hot…” Cookie cried out as she took some pastries out of the oven. She started laughing.
“Those French are a strange bunch, aren’t they?” Lorelai said.
“Yes, they are. But that’s not why I’m laughing.”
“What?” Lorelai asked.
“I just had a crazy thought.”
“What?”
“No, I’m not going to tell you, because you’ll freak.”
“I won’t freak.”
“Yes, you will.”
“I promise I will not freak.”
“OK… I was just thinking. Suppose Rory’s date isn’t with some guy. Suppose it’s with Paris.”
“What!”
“See, I told you you were going to freak!”
“I am freaked!” Lorelai shouted.
“Are you freaked?”
“I am freaked!… How do you figure –”
“It make sense –”
“How does it make sense?” Lorelai demanded.
“Well, Paris is gay.”
Lorelai was clearly upset at the turn this conversation had taken!
“Sookie, what the hell are you talking about! Paris is not gay!”
“Oh, pleeeze. The girl is so butch she makes Sandra Berhardt look like Pippi Longstocking, for god’s sake.”
Lorelai was stunned by what she was hearing. She took a deep breath. She stood there staring at Sookie for what seemed an eternity. Finally it started to sink in.
“Yeah, Paris does have that butch thing going, doesn’t she?” Lorelai said. “But don’t you think I would know if my own daughter was G-A-Y? She’s had boyfriends. There was Dean. Then Jess. And I think she even had a love-hate thing with Tristan. Does that sound like she’s gay?”
“Well, sometimes the truth can be so painful, we’ll do anything to escape from it. Anything.”
“So you’re saying she’s secretly in love with Paris, but because she can’t face up to it, she dates boys?”
“You said it, I didn’t.”
Lorelai screamed in exasperation. Sookie tasted some soup on the stove and added a pinch of salt.
“Would it be so bad if those two did get together?” Sookie said. “Oh, I forgot. Rory is America’s golden girl, isn’t she? And we do have to maintain appearances, now don’t we? I mean, those streets must be lily-white clean and those trains must run on time. God forbid if those trains should run even one minute late!”
Sookie took off her apron and tossed it on the counter in disgust. She marched out the kitchen. Lorelai stood there, shocked speechless.