You know, it seems like this night has stretched on to forever. Like it will never end. Sure, I know it has to eventually end. I'm never usually up at this hour at all, and the one time I was before it seemed like my future was doomed. Coming home from the studio with my mother waiting to put me on the pill and lock me up. If it wasn't for Grandpa being rushed to the hospital it could have changed us forever and created a rift between us.
Two years and an attraction to the same sex however, can change quite a few things about that paranoia. I was just glad that everything tonight worked out the way it did.
That, and we were able to get out of the studio before anyone could find us sleeping on their mats. I was sleeping soundly against Paris when I suddenly heard a faint noise from a distance. I brushed it off as part of a dream at first, but it became louder and louder, repeating after five seconds. I didn't want to get up, and eventually it went away. But about a minute later it began again. I tried to block it out, but then I remembered the familiar sound.
It was Paris's ringer, which was a refrain from The Four Seasons. Obviously it was important if they were calling so early in the morning, and it may have been her driver. I didn't want to move, but I had to answer, lest suddenly Henrico didn't get an answer, he assumed the worst, and my girlfriend would be part of a missing woman media blitz by the time Sunday Today began.
I got up to get to her purse on the other side of the room completely naked and then dug through her purse to find her cell phone. Of course I wasn't thinking clearly at the time, so I failed to check the caller ID before I flipped open the phone and answered it, watching my dozing lover as I spoke in a sleepy voice.
"Hello?"
"Why, it's my daughter, who is...about two hours late for her generous curfew. What's up, kiddo?"
"Ummmmmm..." Where I was tired moments before, I was now wide awake!
I did mention the being naked part, right?
"Mom?"
"Yes, I am your mother, and I'm sitting here on the couch watching the Magic Bullet infomercial while I wait for my daughter to come home, and she hasn't shown up quite yet." If it was possible, I was blushing deeper than Violet Beauregard. "I'm assuming that either Paris is sleeping or is avoiding the phone just in case the Wicked Witch of the West Hartford Hills decides to call."
"Uhhhh...the first?" I felt so nervous, I pulled at my sleeve.
A sleeve that wasn't there. So I yanked at skin and yelped instead, covering it up by pulling the phone quickly away from me, and then back.
"So you two were sleeping, and I woke you up?"
My neurons weren't firing on all cylinders as I answered the question. "Um, you could say that."
"Really?" There's the 'Mom voice'. "You kind of seem a bit apprehensive."
"What time is it?"
"About 2:30."
"Oh God." I was panicked. "I'm so sorry, I...I wanted to be home by one."
"Rory..."
"Mom, please. I just...I need time to digest. I'm sorry, but when I get home, we will talk. We have to." I shook my head, feeling so guilty about everything. I hope I didn't ruin everything between Paris and I while creating a rift with Lorelai at the same time. "Paris should come too?"
"Mm-hmm." Eventually I said goodbye, and I had to wake up Paris, who I can tell you is definitely not an early morning person. After telling her my mom just called, her only responses were annoyed Luke-like grunts and that she didn't want to put her dress back on. "You're the one who brought me here," she reminded me.
"I know, I thought it would be romantic!"
"It was," she assured, slipping on the silky frock and putting back on her shoes. "I'll always remember this, but my back is going to be in pain for a week, I'm sure."
Shaking my head, I was glad she was too tired to get on my case about answering her phone, and in record time we were dressed, the mats were back in place, the blankets were folded in the lockers, and we out the depot, locking the door behind us and as dressed as we could possibly be in our interrupted post-coital bliss. The temperature outside was colder than it was when we went into the studio and the whole time over Paris had her arms close together as she slowly woke up while I guided her down the streets towards the house. She grumped all the way there, cursing her choice of a thin jacket rather than the comfort of her Chilton overcoat. We also ran a bit. Well, as much as we could in heels.
Oh, and it was starting to snow too. Usually a point where I'd get happy and wistful, but instead it had me treading carefully just in case I slipped and fell hard on my butt.
Ten minutes later we were running up the driveway towards the house, where Mom was waiting out front, relieved that we were both alive and in one piece. She opened the door for us and we walked into the house.
The moment Par entered the foyer though, I could tell that there was a change in attitude with her. The assertive shyness she had shown earlier with me as I slowly wooed her had dissipated, and I could tell the gravity of the situation was finally hitting her. There was that fear, of discovery, of self-doubt that she made the right decision in giving me her love tonight. Just alone between us it had seemed right, but now as Lorelai's gaze weighed down upon her shoulders, she was beginning to doubt the last two weeks. Her hands shook, her eyes downcast as she began to feel doubt rise in her. The fear that my mom would call Mrs. Gellar and let her know, or that she was going to be shouted down at.
I didn't feel very complacent myself. What I had done, the entire evening seemed to flash before my eyes. Since the moment I picked up that phone Thanksgiving evening, I'd found myself unwilling to define my relationship within Mom's rules. Slow and steady wasn't the speed I craved, and I had been following what my heart wanted.
I needed a lover, not just someone to make out with. Throwing all my pre-conceptions aside, that thinking likely was about to bring me trouble, and as I sat down next to my girlfriend on the sofa, I prepared for the lecture of the century. Paris, with her eyes shut probably wanted to rush her reincarnation into something beyond the mortified girl who would have a chastity belt slapped on her the moment she got back to Gellar Manor. My mother pacing, I held her hand, trying to tell her it was all going to be OK. Not immediately, but sometime in the next decade.
After preparing herself a bit more, Mom was finally ready to start talking to the both of us. Imagine her on the chair, as we sit on the couch with our hair in disarray and makeup pretty much mussed and non-existent. I closed my eyes, trying to calm my nerves just in case she tried to strike one. I couldn't judge what Paris was going to do, but facing up to my mother like she did Villard Hall last year during a strong illegal immigration debate probably wasn't in her plan. Her hand was tight in mine.
I expected Mom to say horrible, horrible things, that I had done everything too fast, ruined my life. There was shame in how I felt, the decisions I made, how she thought I was the good one and I turned out much different than that. Whatever she says, she's right. This is going too fast. We're not thinking, we're in this fully blind and the fact that we love each other is no excuse for what we did.
I was ready for an argument, and I'm sure Paris would be eventually.
What we weren't prepared for was...acceptance?
"I guess hormones beat parliamentary procedure every time. Isn't that right, Paris?" Directing a look towards her, she was startled at the direction of questioning going right to her instead of me. It was so unexpected. Flaring up, Paris sunk into the couch cushions.
She was literally speechless, unable to respond in any way except for a squeak, strangled.
"Far be it for me to wonder that you were twenty minutes away from school on Monday morning, with my daughter. I think to myself 'she'll get there with so much time to spare that they could play a pickup soccer game'. Around noon though, I get a call on my cell phone, from a friendly recorded voice mentioning that my daughter missed two classes that morning." Shaking her head, she smiled at her. "I thought I would never receive that call a second time after Rory's little day trip to Brooklyn, and I held it back from Sookie, who was in the same room and wondering who it was."
"Ms. Gilmore..." Paris was about to say anything, but was stopped.
"Paris, I'm about to say something to you and my daughter that I thought I would never, ever say. All my life I've always thought of myself as her protector, the one to warn her off from danger or sticky situations. But the thing is, she's always tried to be more adult than I am. She's so focused on how something affects her life, she writes out pro/con lists before she decides on anything."
A pause, and a deep breath. I'm so nervous about this. What is she going to do? I felt mortified about what Mom was about to say. I thought this was the end of everything, that I just had my last taste of her. We went too far...
"You're both bringing each other out of your shells. Watching and observing, the few times I've been able to, I spent the first few days after I caught you two thinking that I did something wrong." She expressed her doubts in a candor I never had heard from her before as she turned to face me. "I never wanted to admit this, but the day after when I was in my office at the Inn, I kept thinking if I had done something wrong with you. I questioned my entire relationship history, going over everything to see if there may have been a way to misdirect you back to Dean, or even to Jess. I hated myself for thinking that, the very idea of wanting you torn apart, but it was something real that I thought about. And then the thoughts of you breaking each other's hearts." She shook her head, closing her eyes. The guilt she felt must have been painful. "I was happy for you both, but crying because here I thought I knew my daughter. I knew what she wanted, what made her happy, who gave her the drive to be the way she is."
She took a sip of the water in front of her, needing to hydrate herself. It was odd to watch my mom like this, not joking or the way she was two years ago, thinking I had blown my life because of Dean. Continuing, her voice was unsteady. "But I've watched you these last three weeks, together in the front drive and in my foyer, or on my couch, watching a movie together or just being close to each other." She sighed, setting the bottle down. "At first I felt uncomfortable, and there was that need to tear you apart and say this wasn't right. That voice in my mind telling me that Rory needed to find someone like Christopher on her own." It was then she recalled the drive back from Hartford after our Christmas shopping. "But I noticed something changing with you, Rory. It wasn't just in the way you couldn't stop talking about Paris, but when I looked at you in the mall as we tackled each store, there was a difference from how you were a month ago. I...I saw how unhappy you were with Dean, the frustration you felt because he took himself too seriously as not allowing you to express yourself. He felt like I'd gang up on him as soon as he went for more, but I had relaxed by the middle of last year. I assumed he would make his move and that some time, everything would change."
Mom then told me about the signs that she knew I wasn't happy that she missed. How I would avoid going over to Dean's or was a bitch regarding her cooing over our having our 15-month and 18-month anniversaries, which just to me were becoming milestones of him not getting the hint that I wanted him to be my first. The pressure I felt inside that I wanted him as my first, combined with the frustration that nothing I could do would make him see that I was ready for him. My love letters went ignored, my demands to go deeper brushed off as me being lovesick. Hearing Mom talk about it as a disappointment in him rather than me was a relief.
She continued, alluding to how my love for Paris had overwhelmed what I felt for Dean. "I know...I know the both of you aren't like anybody else in your entire school. Education is your first priority and the gossip circle is at best tertiary to your achievements. I kept thinking over and over that you both were too young to rush into this, that you need some time to think and realize the consequences before you do anything. In bed I've been plagued by some dreams of the town hating you, thinking of you as a corruptor of Rory's virtue, that she was unwilling to go into this at all and you've bullied your way into her heart."
Soon, she came to her point. "But then thinking of that call, and of tonight, while I waited for you both to come. I put myself in your shoes, Paris. They were kind of uncomfortable and bulky, the socks were odd and you double-tie them so I'm not used to them, but I did." Taking another pause for water, she hesitated, looking at my girlfriend, who felt odd about the humor. She brought her gaze down to her hands, while I circled my hand within Paris's palm.
"Looking at the situation at your age, your time, rather than my view as outside, I...I'm struggling to say this, but I have to, because it took me too long to think about you two in more than a friendship, much less romantic."
"Mom?" I questioned. I knew she was unsettled if she used so many words before finding her point. "What are you trying to say?"
Her words came out, a bit shaky. "I'm saying that...when I saw you two in the bedroom, I forgot that you were adults, or are on the cusp of adulthood. I keep thinking of you two as kids, but that ended on October 8th for you, kiddo. I looked at things as Paris does, and I'm looking at how you were thinking about it, and I'm beginning to understand what kind of give and take you both have in your relationship. It's complex and sometimes odd, but on the most basic of levels, it works. I keep thinking about all of these fights you have and how you bounce insults off one another when you're both pissed off. If that was me, I'd keep a grudge. But somehow, you both...well, I hate to be so blunt and I should slap myself for telling my daughter this." She stopped. "You both get off on it."
Yup, there I was, flushing deeply at the bluntness of her opinion. You can never say that my mother minces words, and she was finding her voice as she told us how she felt.
"You're both primed to be around each other, competitive and always trying to outdo each other, and somehow that's developed into something else entirely. I could say that I don't want you to be around each other, but I can't. There's something the both of you see about each other that I can't, or everyone else, and I know that whatever it is, you're connected on this small hidden level that I know would unhinge you both if someone tried to break you off. At this point, you need each other, and somehow I'm relieved that it's with you, Paris."
She finally voiced the concerns about Dean she had for months, her attention moving towards me. "I admit, I was prepared whenever you had your first time with Dean. By last year, I thought it was inevitable. But when you hadn't, I was surprised, and a bit disturbed. I saw it in your eyes as you prepared to go out with him and experimented with more makeup and thinner dress. You wanted him and you thought he'd return those feelings. You'd come home though, say the date was fine, and when I tried to ask you what happened, you always sounded bored, like you were forced to date him. Then you tell me all these things about him being possessive or denying you affection because Jess happened to be at the diner and you had to order something from him, it was appalling for him to be so possessive. I never thought to say something about it, but I thought you were dealing with it."
"I was." I stared down at my hands as I went into detail about it. "I dealt with it internally at first, because no one seemed to understand. You told me to hope, while Lane said I should be happy that he was in the right for wanting to be proper with my chastity. Par was the only one to tell me I was wrong. We talked about it several times over the summer, when I came back to Howard with another pithy postcard in the mail. She hates to see me this way, worrying over mail I poured my heart into, only to be regarded on the same level as junk mail." My lip quivered as I went on, my internal filter making sure to leave out he was cheating with Beth and I knew it. From there I explained again what drew me to Paris and exactly what drew me to her sexually. I admitted what we did Monday and tonight, while Paris explained everything that she thought about Dean, though she was struggling to stay awake, her biological clock out of whack. I was fully expecting of my mom to put more restrictions on us from seeing each other outside of school, such as directly coming home after paper work or a call when we got to Chilton. But we both promised that we would no longer detour off-route, that Monday morning was a one time thing.
Still, there were some concerns from her. "I'm sort of disappointed that you two didn't wait and just jumped into things, I guess. But if you two feel that you're mature enough, and you can handle this, I won't try to stop you."
"Thank you--" Paris was interrupted.
"I won't try to stop you, but the open door rule remains here at home." Her stern tone was surprising, but understandable. "If you're both here without me I'm going to trust you not to do anything that I wouldn't want to see. I also expect you both to keep your grades up like you have so far, and the Thursday night visits are still mandatory. As for Bracebridge night, I'm afraid you can't invite Paris here, Rory."
I readied an objection, but Paris stopped me. "Don't worry, I won't be going. Mother found out I went last year and she chastised me for associating with 'yokels'. I'm sure it'll be better this year, hopefully."
"Yeah, me too," Mom said. She shook her head and asked her one last question. "I'm sorry I have to exclude you, but the probability of someone in town finding out about you two is going to be very high. I can't risk someone like Kirk or Babbette walking into your room and blabbing all about it. As someone who had to hide a pregnancy for a few months, I know how it is to keep quiet. As much as you'd both like to come out, it's not time, right?"
We both shook our heads at the same time, but that brought Paris into the perfect opportunity to ask me something. "If you don't mind, I'd like to invite Rory to dinner with my father at his loft in downtown Wednesday night." I was startled for a moment as the implication of what she was asking hit me.
"You want to come out to him?" I asked.
"I need to, hon." She kissed me on the cheek, placing her hand on my knee. "I wanted him to be the first after your mom to know, but Madeline took that place. I can't break that trust the two of us have had against Mother, and I don't want to hide it from him."
"Does he know I'm coming?"
"I let him know I'd be over on Wednesday, but not that you'd be coming." I thought for a moment about the ramifications of coming out to Mr. Gellar. Would he accept me, think of me as worthy? Or would he be like Mr. Forrester, tolerating me while he went on about 'that Beth girl' and how he wished she was back in his son's life full time?
I knew though, that it had to be done, and soon. Right now, between holidays, we can come out without the stress of those days on us yet. No awkward uncles or weird nephews to judge us, just the closest people to us.
That made me think of the other important family in my life. Something that I felt I needed to share soon so that they wouldn't have the wrong idea. I told them about ending things with Dean, so I'm sure during the Christmas party they're going to have a 'meet market' situation where I'll suddenly see so many Chilton guys wanting a piece of the Gilmore wealth. I really didn't want them to waste their time, so I crossed my fingers that I could figure out a way to come out to the grandparents before Grandma tried to set me up with someone that night. But I had to deal with the here and now.
"I'll come with you," I said. "I do want to meet your father. He seems like a nice man."
"He cares about me," she said, cuddling close to me. "I'm his whole world, and I don't see him being vile towards you at all. He only wants the best for me and he knows what it's like to yearn for someone so long and finally get them."
Mom then shared her opinion of Paris's father. "I knew your father from when he was in his 20's. He'd be over at our house having drinks with my father and other associates from his company, looking to offer their drugs at reduced cost under Dad's insurance company. He was drained from medical school but knew that he'd rather his drugs go to those who deserve it rather than just because they could charge $200 for twenty pills. I respect him, though I don't see much of him since I left Hartford."
"He's never changed," Paris said proudly. "The divorce almost sapped his energy, but with all these other companies advertising unneeded pills he wants to get some out that actually make a difference. He's a little guy in their world, but I know that if he can do it, his legacy will be remembered well."
"I'd like to think we'd all love to be proud of our parents," I said, settling in against Paris as the talk of the night shifted towards a more relaxed pace. She prepared to call Henrico to come at 4am so I had just a bit more time with her. Every minute I have with her, especially after tonight, I treasure, and I enjoyed watching her as she began to be conciliatory with Mom. She put a comic spin on the Jamie situation, and the cell phone drama, which seemed like it would kill all of our progress hours before, quickly became a distant footnote, explained away with a joking warning I'd be frisked for a phone from now on.
Unlike two years ago, there was no yelling, screaming, and Paris's head was safe from dull hedge clippers for the time being. There was a calm over all three of us that wasn't there two weeks ago when we were walked in on, a sense that the bumps in the road were coming, but that here we'd have a rest stop, a respite from the chaos to come in the next few weeks.
It's now about 10 minutes to 4, and Mom just went to bed after saying her goodnights to us, while telling us that we have nothing to be ashamed about at all. "At least you were warm when you lost yours," she said, while I whined about her reminding me where I was conceived. Of course, Paris didn't have to know where!
That left my girlfriend waiting downstairs for Henrico, and I decided to brush my teeth and wash my face before I bid Paris adieu for the evening. I'm not prepared for more than a goodnight kiss from her, and as I walk towards my bedroom, I expect that she's standing in the foyer, waiting for her ride home. All the lights are turned out except for a couple dim ones and the light over the sink in the kitchen. I notice the door to my bedroom is almost closed, but since I left it that way I don't suspect anything amiss at all.
I open the door to enter and set my grooming supplies on the desk...
I'm surprised to find as I close the door and prepare to head to my dresser, hands wrapping around my waist from behind.
"I really had a wonderful time tonight." Her voice is soft, elegant, her breath tickling the shell of my ear. "The first two hours were awful, but we made up lost time in those last six."
"Paris..." I'm surprised, shocked. "What are you doing in here?"
"Saying goodnight, darling." She turns me around so I'm reversed, and she walks me towards the bed. "You know, those eyes really sparkle within the dimmest light. It's almost as if a whole galaxy resides within your irises."
"Hon, you can't be in here. What...what about Mom? And the rules!" I noticed that she attempts to kick the door closed, but it comes up just short.
"As long as the door doesn't close all the way, we can be in here," she husks, her hands sliding down the middle of my back. She finds the catch of my zipper. "I am currently following the rules to the letter. The door is not closed."
"But...but..." I feel her lips touch mine as she induces me into a slow kiss, her other hand caressing my cheek as she lets herself revel in me. I still taste the cocoa she made up from the Swiss Miss powder in the kitchen to warm herself up after the conversation, her lips still stained a bit by the substance. Her kiss is slow and teasing, her touches are wandering.
"Technically, we are not doing anything sexual at all," she notes, using the law to have her way. "I am getting you ready for bed."
I'm a little shocked at her audacity. "What about pajamas?"
She's bringing down my zipper in response.
"Not tonight," Paris says, her tone like silk as she brings down the straps of my dress. "Tonight, no pajamas. You're going to be much too warm to have to wear them."
"It's 20 degrees outside; I need something to wear."
"Untuck your sheets," she commands, as we near my bed, while she continues to unzip me.
"Can't I...can't I at least grab some underwear?" I see her shake her head in the darkness.
"Why, are you afraid of your own nudity?" She stares me over as she brings down the dress, exposing my breasts.
"It's not that. I have a robe, I'm just, well. I...I'm a bit self-conscious about being fully...naked." I'm flustered as her hand brushes across a breast, her eyes moving down to take in my exposed skin.
"You were in Miss Patty's and had no problem."
"But I put my clothes on as soon as I could," I say, my lips trembling as she pushes the dress the rest of the way down, until it pools at my ankles. "And if I have a dream about you, well, I um, you know."
"You soak your sheets. You can't hold back what you feel, so you ruin them, thinking about me." I push the blankets aside to crawl in, as she backs me against the rail of the bed. "I bet you dream about me loudly, moan my name in pleasure. You push a sheet against your mound, rubbing your clit round and round, or you just rub in your sleep. I bet you'd feel even sexier, naughtier without anything to stop you except your mons."
"Par..." I'm overwhelmed by her. This is that evil side she still revels in from time to time, where she just gets so naughty. I'm so not prepared at all. I should be going to bed, not indulging in her one last time. But there she is, standing above me, her fingers circling across my stomach, her eyes darkened with the latent want that I thought I would have never seen, but now seems to be a permanent feature when she sees me. She forces me to sit at the edge of the bed, while I look up at her.
"Rory," she says softly. "I just want to thank you for making me feel special tonight. Even with that rough start, that you admitted you made a mistake in the way you did, even though I had no need to forgive you, it's heartening to see that the girl I love is so selfless and afraid. I feel the love I have for you in my heart, and when we were in the depot I could have felt so many ways about everything you confided in me tonight. But it makes me see you as more than you are. The real you is the girl I'm in love with, and there's something to be treasured in knowing that I'm not the only one to have doubts in myself." I felt her take my hand, and I had the spinning feeling in my stomach from how she described this evening. That she felt special...loved. I felt a lump in my throat that I was in her heart.
"Baby girl," I say nervously. "Did...did I break through the stone?" I don't know why I asked, but I go back to that whole fight in the locker room, where I described her as having rock for a soul. The words still feel acidic, the anger at her for not accepting a compliment, bitter. She pulls me onto the bed, forcing me to the left side so she could lay at my right, on the covers. Staring at me, I see the sheen of her lips in the darkness, her soft breathing so soothing to me.
She brings my right hand to her, sliding down her left dress strap to expose the top of her bosom. Laying it upon the spot of her heart, the warm and tanned skin is beautiful, smooth. I think that if she ages, she will do so gracefully, her beauty slowly maturing and never declining.
She commands me to take in her heartbeat. "Feel it pumping through, the blood flowing, my body in flux, dealing with the passion we shared tonight." The beat is fast; probably 15-20 beats every ten seconds if I can estimate. "I opened my heart to you, and I hope that soon I can share something just as deep like you have tonight." Her coda for the night was strong, beautiful. "I know that we've shared more in less than thirty days than we both shared with Tristan and Dean combined. My eyes are open to everything, the possibilities, the hope, the fears." She caresses my hair softly, reaching over to lay her head against the good Colonel. "I know that I will not take you for granted, ever, like that boy did. I never want you to regret me, and though things aren't going to be like this all the time and we'll have some bumps, know right now that what we're committing to, this is a democracy. Tell me how you feel, I'll tell you the same. Ask for what you want, be the way you are, say what you want to me. In you, I have a special girl, but I want you to know that I'm not going to treat you like china. I love you, and I want you to see that every day. For now, just in private. But when we have to leave our nest and be out, I'll be there to hold your hand." She lays against me as I stare up at her, the romance I have for her becoming much more than it ever could in my dreams. She pulls the covers up until I'm tucked in all tight and I feel so much for her.
"I feel the same," I say softly, my voice cracking. "If you wouldn't have pulled up to pick me up at the curb, I'd be in this bed, crying, dreaming of what might have been, but never was. If I would have lost you with what I said, I would have been at your locker Monday morning, doing almost anything to be your friend again. But tonight, after Jamie left and we were able to make the most of the night, I can never forget that. I can't forget you. The moment you said you loved me, I knew that my fears were gone. I was afraid to say it before you did, because I wanted you to have that moment. That clarity that I was the one you wanted, the only one. Once you said those words, in that passion I felt for you, I knew I had to say them. I wanted them to touch you though, not just be ordinary. That's why I told you I loved you in Portuguese, because I know that if any one should be touched by what I said beyond you, it should be your nanny." Her hand rubbed my arm, mouth formed in a soft smile as I stated to her that this night went beyond the pale. "I can't see you like I did when I first came to Chilton, the way your mother wanted you to be. You're finally standing up to her and living for yourself, and that takes courage."
"I'll be thinking of you at that cocktail party tomorrow night." She pushes up her dress again while she sighs. "I really don't want to be there. I just get the feeling when I get home, or whenever the fuck Sharon wakes up from her latest .23 bender, Jamie's going to be the first subject."
"I'm sure if she calls him he'll lie about knowing."
"I know that. The poor kid, he thought he was in love with me, and I crushed his heart. I hope that girl in Charm City gets a shot at him, he's really a nice guy."
"I feel bad for thinking mean things about him in my mind," I mentioned.
"Was there a vise involved?"
"There may have been," I joked. I felt relaxed with her next to me in bed, that even if we weren't doing anything sexual, we could talk lightly like this, without any kind of tension. We stare at each other while talking softly about our plans for the next couple days, including some paper work, obviously. We both feel a bit bad for neglecting the Franklin, but we'd make up for it, I'm sure. After all, there hasn't seemed to be a problem staying until seven to work on the paper. I think we could probably pull it off.
I was hoping that she could stay with me all night, but soon I hear a knocking on the front door. I feel myself deflate immediately, knowing that our night was over.
"Time to go, Ror." She kisses my forehead and rises from the bed, looking so beautiful with her mussed hair and sleepy eyes. "Remember, do not get out of that bed."
"But, Paris..." She waves her finger in my direction.
"I'm sleeping until 2:30 tomorrow...after I take a shower. I'm in such a wonderful mood I'm not even going to wear a robe after I slip out of this." She smiles, and I feel so warm from her suggestiveness. "I would probably check your mail too before 7 o'clock. I'm not doing the awkward thing with the camera phone again, so I'll just do it with my mirror."
"Are you going to be wearing something...daring?"
She shakes her head. "This was daring. Tomorrow night I'm going to make sure that I remain a 'no man's land.' But since you have this seemingly insane obsession about what I wear, I will send you pictures."
"I am not insane," I argue. "I'm 'multi-faceted abnormal.'"
"I'm sure Dr. Birnbaum would want to argue that point." She picks up her bag, sitting on top of my dresser. "Now you stay in that bed and rest away most of the day, like I am. Just enjoy what we did tonight, and that we have a bit more leeway to do what we want."
"Fine, I'm staying." I flop my head onto the pillow. "I feel all weird though."
She gives a reminder of why she asked me to do so. "If we're going to sleep together, we have to get used to doing so without clothes. Very awkward to have sex and then throw our pajamas back on." She looks at me one last time, backing towards the door, with her hand on the knob. "You know what I mean, right?"
"Yes, Par." I am indeed feeling warm despite the lack of anything to wear as she opens the door. "I'll see you Monday morning, hon. I love you."
"Boa noite, meu amor. Até o próximo encontro." She closes the door, shutting it softly, and I hear her heels clack across the floor as she leaves the house, as I'm thankful that the library has those CD courses to give me a basic overview of Portuguese. I really wanted to watch her depart, but I know if I did I'd leave the bed and she'd be disappointed. Tucking me in like Mom did when I was younger, saying goodnight the way she did, Paris is proving that she's more than I could have ever imagined.
I hear the purring of the town car engine and the sound of the gravel as the car drives out, and I think to myself that this night was definitely the best I've ever had. I was able to be the most special person in her life in that depot, and to be the way I am with her, I know now that I'm too ahead now to just end things without a reason.
Really, I could sleep twenty hours now. My body is too relaxed and I only feel my eyes weighing down with sleep. I don't know that I have the energy to indulge in my sexual fantasies at all to fall asleep.
Not that I need to anyways. Somehow I think that my dreams will take care of that for me. I'm guessing I'll be able to be the one with her on the dance floor instead of Jamie and that I'll dream of the both of us heading onto that balcony above the floor of the armory and do some interesting things around there.
Just as long as my dream doesn't end up with us walking in on Madeline and Brad I think I'll be fine. Or anyone I've ever known. I really want to remember this night beyond the reality, and not just because it was magical from the lightly falling snow outside the window...
I've never stayed the night with a guy before.
OK, I have, technically. But not in the whole 'we're sharing a bed' sense. Either I've had a co-ed sleepover where the guys shared a room with us and nothing sexual happened, or I slept in another room or on the floor below after sex. Mainly because I don't like the awkwardness of being felt up in the middle of the night, or pushed to do it again when I don't want to. Oh, and some guys...they smell. Yeah, no one should have to suffer through that.
Right now, I'm upstairs in Brad's house, in his bedroom.
I'm was next to him as he softly snoozed in his bed, my view colored by a Mets poster and one of those big life-sized sticky thingys with an athlete on it. It's weird, knowing Brad lost his virginity to me while David Beckham watched from above. Suddenly bending it like that guy has a whole new meaning in my head!
Now I know you're all 'Madeline, what if he knocks you up, oh God, you weren't prepared!'. Calm down, dudes, we were. That's why Rite-Aid was founded, I have the awesomest OB-GYN in the state, and I have the compact with the little pills in it. You really don't think the two of us would go into this without protection, would you? Even if my Red Fox had to be a little embarrassed about buying condoms. Poor guy, the girl at the counter made fun of him while I went to get a box of Whoppers for a snack on the way home.
That changed when I slapped his cute little butt and smiled at him for being all adorable. Counter bitch shut her trap right then. Serves her right for making assumptions about the class of girl he could be with.
All I have to say is thank God Mrs. Langford gave me her blessing a week ago when I asked if would be OK for me to ask if we could take the next step after Formal. Also, that she had an important taxidermy convention up in New Hampshire this weekend, so nothing to stop us.
I won't go into much detail about what we did, but I will say this for Brad. He might not know everything (yet), but he knows how to please a girl. He's chivalrous and kind, and we went slow and steady. There was no rush, nothing naughty or any dirty talk. We just made love, and it was perfect, great. Nothing I could do in a Chilton closet could beat the look he gave me as he lifted off his undershirt nervously and asked me what I thought about him.
There was no hesitation, looking up at him, clad only in boxer briefs, a sexy trail of red hair in a perfectly line down from his navel. I swooned, and smiled at him.
"I think the geek just won the girl," I said. "And I think he'll keep her for a long time." Everything else from there...well, I'm wearing a smile that hasn't disappeared for three hours, even when we went to bed after an hour and a half.
I really do love him so much, and I felt such a responsibility to make sure his first time didn't end up like Jim launching the rockets early on Nadia, twice. I concentrated on his chest, slowly making my way down and did I could to make him hold off as long as he could. His stamina was amazing, and uh...oh, is Louise going to hate me when she finds out about it.
He doubled me, right where he needed to. Burying his head in the books and on the Internet made him learn where I was most sensitive, and you could say, he turned two. The boy, he's beyond amazing. I mean, c'mon, he's a born actor. Of course he prepares for sex like it's a big role. Whatever he did, I'm going to have a glow for at least the next three days that won't disappear.
Brad went to sleep after some cute pillow talk, and I eventually drifted off too. But wouldn't you know it? Me having hot chocolate duty turned out to be not so hot, and I drank a little too much of the stuff, along with water and juice. So I got up about twenty minutes ago to go pee.
What, I have a bashful bladder!
Anyways, I went and washed, and was about to head back into bed, when I noticed my cell rattling on top of Brad's nightstand.
"Who could be calling now?" I wondered, so I picked up the phone and opened it up to read the incoming screen.
Interesting, I thought, reading the name and number. I didn't want to be rude, and I didn't want to wake Brad up so I ran out to the hall and closed the door to a sliver so I could talk uninterrupted, and flipped open the phone.
"Hello?"
The voice on the other end was very surprised. "Madeline?"
"What brings you to call me at 4am, Paris?" I had never heard from her so late, unless it was to 'shut your trap' during our sleepovers.
"I...I actually didn't expect you to be up," she admitted. "I was just going to leave you a message."
"I didn't expect to be up, but I am." I laughed nervously.
"Well if I woke you up at a time you didn't want to be, I suppose I can talk to you later--"
"Paris, don't hang up. I know what you're calling about and to tell the truth, I was expecting this call. Though more at 11am than 4am, but still, we're here, you're queer, I'm used to it."
"You make my sexual orientation sound like a campaign slogan."
"Ah, if only you and Rory would have been a couple then. The poll numbers would have been so interesting."
"Mads--"
I went on, despite her aural annoyance. "Could you imagine? You win, you go up to the podium and you kiss your running mate in a hot manner. Oh, that would get attention!"
"No, that would get me an expulsion. Plus I'd never do it because Chilton is not the setting for a Hooters commercial."
"I know, but you have to admit, you're thinking about it."
"I'm not. I have thought about it, but not right now." She was sort of guilty.
"Oh, Paris, you think you're all innocent and perfect."
"I was innocent and perfect. Until tonight."
Whoa, put on the full brakes, Captain!! What on earth was she talking about?
"Was?"
"Well, I guess you're wondering what happened after you left and gave Rory that evil eye."
"Not really," I lied. "I'd rather hear about Louise's exploits with the captain of the intermural rugby team."
"What happened to Football Guy?"
"I was watching Fox Sports World when she came to pick up an old Seventeen and an Irish rugby match was on. Bad idea in retrospect."
I could sense the eye roll within her voice. "I feel like you're the smarter one now."
"I feel like she needs a kick in the ass." I bit my lip, shaking my head. "But enough about her, what happened with you and Rory?"
"What didn't happen?" she hinted. My eyes popped right open as I heard her voice curl in a way I never heard before. "Pretty much I pulled up, I had her get in, and when she tried to find her cell phone she pretty much made up with me right away."
I heard Brainy Smurf in my head boasting that 'I was right, I was right!' "See, what did I tell you?"
"But that's not the half of it, at all. When all three of us got to Jamie's hotel, he thought I was going to go in with him and that for four months I'd been writing love letters non-stop waiting for the day he'd come for me."
"Really?" I was surprised. "I thought that you liked her."
"I do. It was my mother who wrote to him as myself." Going into the details of how her plan worked until they both realized they were had, I found myself seething at the audacity of that bitch to try to bring them into a romance they didn't want. I felt angered and betrayed at Sharon Gellar and how she managed to take Rory, a great girl with a good head on her shoulders, and made her so mad that she reduced my good friend into a pile of tears from a miscommunication.
"I owe her, an apology, don't I?" I slumped against the wall. "Oh my God, I was mean to her. I told her she was dense and...crap."
"Madeline, you have nothing to apologize for," she assured. "Your reaction was key to making her see that she wasn't acting right."
"But I feel awful," I admitted.
"Remember how you were the only friend to her through that summer? How you ignored my demands to be cold? From day one, you saw what I should have seen to begin with, that I should have been her friend. To see you be mean to her, I think that gave her a shock that she was stupid, and it made getting her into the car much easier than if you pretended everything was fine."
I hesitated a bit. "If you're sure."
"I am, Mads. What you did for me tonight was what a true friend does, and I will be forever grateful to you for giving us that reset for the evening. It went beyond anything I could have ever dreamed would happen tonight."
She then explained what transpired after they left Jamie at the hotel, from their stop for fish to their visit to the dance studio. But it was all the naughty details she told me about their night that totally made the conversation.
Paris described everything romantically, like a whole new woman. Her voice was light and happy, her descriptions of them in the dance studio just...wow. The play-by-play of one of Louise's dates now pales in my mind when compared to the tit-for-tat, as I learned why exactly they weren't in school on Monday. I couldn't help but feel entranced by the details, the romance of their young love just so refreshing and something I've wanted for Paris for years. Not just so she'll stop yelling at me, but just because. I'm tired of everyone passing her by just because she's a little rough around the edges and speaks her mind. I felt horrible for her that no one noticed her, and was even more angered to see Tristan kiss Rory in a weak moment in my piano room. I remember being scared to show her the tape, but unlike Lou, who whined and complained when she burned the cassette because she wanted some 'fun', I was hoping that Paris made the right choice.
To hear her describe Lorelai's reaction to their night of fun was cute. I didn't expect the woman to hate them at all, and was happy to hear she was as fine with it as she could be. That she was also doing the same thing I was, keeping the secret, I knew then that everything was right and well. Although the reaction of everyone else to come was going to be rough for the both of them I held the hope that it would be easy for them, though I knew that it wouldn't. Chilton is complicated, and there will be someone to protest them together.
But those are thoughts for another night. For that moment, I was happy that for the first time in many years, Paris and I were totally friendly towards each other, having a long ten-minute conversation where my usual stoic buddy was far from that. She was in love, Rory was in love with her, and all was well in the world.
"What are you doing up anyway?" she asked. "And where are you? When you're at home you have your phone turned off or unplugged."
I smiled, but was hopeful she wasn't about to tease me. "You could say that you weren't the only one in the Class of 2003 to punch their V-ticket tonight."
A silent pause, an intake of breath. Then, utter shock. "Madeline Linda Lynn, you didn't!"
I glowed. "I did!"
I think she was most likely horrified. "You and Brad."
"Yes." I heard her stumbling for breath.
"And you stayed."
"I did. I'm wearing his Boy Scout shirt as we speak!" My finger caressed the letters of his name patch. "It smells really sexy."
"Brad and sexy are two terms I never want to hear again." Her reaction was so uncharacteristic after I explained the circumstances leading me to his bed. "Oh God, my friend did Duckie! Man, I never thought I'd see the day when you stood your ground and didn't let Lou get to you."
"He's just a smart and caring guy," I gushed, "I don't know why I find him to be so perfect for me. I had my doubts to begin with, but I feel like to know each other like we do, it's nice. I don't have to focus on just one thing, the sexual. I can build it up slowly, at my own pace, and I won't scare him off."
I shared an apprehension that I still had about myself. "I'm still scared that my past will come back to bite me. I want this to last, but what if he thinks I'm not in it long term?"
"Madeline, you can do it," she said strongly, the stirring of her voice apparent through the phone. "I know that right now you're in this glow like I am and you're trying to forget the reality to come, but think about what we've gone through. Both of us have anxieties in relationships, and while with me I tried to avoid it, you jumped in even if you were unhappy. The both of us were influenced by Sharon and Louise, and we look at them and think that it's impossible to have a positive relationship with anybody. We just have to stay away from their examples and just let things evolve between our lovers the way we want them to. I mean you're off to a great start if Brad is perfect to your parents and Mrs. Langford trusts you enough with her son."
"I know. The last thing I ever want to do is hurt him." I looked into the peek of the slightly opened door, looking at my boy sleeping comfortably. "He liked me since the rehearsals and it actually hurt him to leave to go to Hillside. He told me that the rabbi told him to face his fears, and one of them happened to be him asking me to be a friend to him. Not even a girlfriend, just a plain vanilla friend."
"He was scared," she thought.
"Mm-hmm, you and Louise, he felt intimidated. It was only after I was friendly to him at that dance that he opened up. A little faster than we both thought, but I love that there was an instant connection between us." I flipped some wayward hair back, sighing into the mic as I let the night wash over me. "Like you and Rory have."
"It took us two years," she reminded me. "You can't describe us as instant unless you're talking in era terms."
"No, Paris. It was instant." I shared my theory. "Usually when you sized up those coming in on scholarships you got the information and then you just blew them away without having to do what you did with Gilmore. She was beguiling to you from the moment her and Lorelai walked past us on the staircase her first day. They walked past and Louise was just kind of bored while I was like 'yay, new kid.' But your eyes trained onto her as she walked past. You sized her up, examined her body language, tried to determine if she'd be 'Dorothy Gale, small and meek' or someone to give you competition. Now in the back of your mind, that first glance, looking through the files, you were interested, but not exactly feeling like she was a threat. Then her ass met your moat. She's sorry, she wants to fix it, but you'd rather do it alone. She keeps on begging for you to help her anyways, and without the teacher getting in the way she just might have been helping you out. So she tackled your questions, laid down the gauntlet, and a month later you're being taunted for not saying anything when you called her a loser. From there...well, I say you've talked about her more than you ever did Tristan."
She took in my argument, weighing everything that I said. Probably shocked at how I argued everything, she hesitated into the phone for a bit before her response.
"Maybe you would make a good scientist. That was well-argued." I felt vindicated for stating things so concisely. "It's amazing you have more clarity about my past than I do."
"You needed a neutral view, and I'm giving it to you. Besides, playing dumb for so long's gotten tiring. I hate that we've drifted apart over the years thanks to Louise." That was the first time I ever admitted to feeling the blonde was ruining our bond.
"I...I do too. You might not have known me for most of my life like Lou has, but you bring levity to my life, Mads. If it wasn't for you I might deny myself happiness often."
"Well..." I lowered my voice to try to do a horrible Charlie Brown. "Happiness is a warm pussy." I giggled as I heard Paris groan deeply, pulling the phone away. I felt pretty pleased with myself as she came back on the line.
"I'm glad you find my baby steps into Sapphic romance so inspirational."
I smiled, wanting to get an idea of things. "So Rory isn't at all like she came off to Dean?"
"She couldn't come off to Dean, much less get off. Trust me, how she was with Dean was her on mute. I'm only at half-volume with her right now. Imagine what she'll be like when we get deeper, at 11." I was shocked to hear about their exploits within Gellar Manor Sunday into Monday, and where nothing Louise does is very surprising anymore, the details about her sneaking into her very own shower to bring her girlfriend off, and the oral turnabout from Rory later was enough to get my heart pumping and, um, feel very funny. Going on to describe how loud Rory gets in orgasm along with her voice fetish, I only had one thing to say to my longtime friend.
"It's official. You are definitely the most insatiable among us, Gel. No wonder you held out for so long, your libido is like Cookie Monster!" I smiled, so happy that happiness was finding all four of us, but especially a girl I've known for so long that has suffered enough in her life.
"I'm sure I'll trail off, eventually," she demurred. "But I'm happy for you too. Coming out of your element, going after what you really want and depending more on your wits than sex appeal. I'm proud of you tonight, Mads, but I have been since you've been with Louise less often."
"I'm not going to let her ruin us," I said, determined. "We're both doing well, and I'm going to fight for you. Will you fight for me?"
"I've got your back. Right now, you two are safe with me. The images of you two having sex...that'll be something for Birnbaum to sort out during my next appointment." She shuddered, and I sighed dreamily about my man.
"My new secret nickname for him is totally the Big Brad Wolf."
"Madeline," she warned.
"He can huff and puff and blow me away anytime. And I should've seen the signs you and Rory were together. Your skin is clearer and your hands are less clammy. Meanwhile your eyes when we were playing lacrosse through the week, they were really intense, like they took a lighter brown shade. You just seemed, brighter, better. It was more than your traditional November tan in Florida usually does." I went on, noting the closeness of the two, along with how their arguments were more playful, and in retrospect seemed like flirting. I noticed a change in her at the beginning of the year, and I could finally put my finger on the reason for her looser dress and kinder authority. When she lets me slip in a small dating section into the Franklin classifieds without argument, you know something rocked her world.
We talked a bit more, about school and such, along with about how nice Ms. Gilmore was to her despite the shock of her daughter with my friend. The conversation drifted several times, and it seemed like the closeness gone for so many years was back. Our secrets brought us back towards actual friendship and everything else. I know we're not about to talk about boys anytime soon, but who cares? The Paris of old (by old I mean since 1998) is gone, slinking away and replaced with this new girl who I know can build a relationship with Rory that will work for the both of them.
Slowly we get to our goodnights and I let her go, saying that I'll see her on Monday. But she leaves me with a message to pass on to Brad.
"What is it?"
Her tone turned serious. "If Brad does one thing to upset you enough to ruin the relationship, he's getting a Mary Queen of Scots-style beheading."
The old Paris was still there, I guess. But I still understood her side of things as far as true love got. If there's one wonderful thing about her, its that motherly concern of her that keeps me close to her and in line with sanity. I smiled, thinking about how much of a gentleman he really is. He opens the door and pushes in chairs for me. No guy has done that for me before, ever.
"I'll be sure to warn him, Par. And you two better not mess this up. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry."
"Trust me, I think Ror got that point loud and clear."
"She better." I placed my finger on the END button. "Night, Par."
"See you on Monday." We hung up, and I felt the unease about them fully disappear. I was nervous about them and hoped they would make up quickly, and I'm glad they did. I always thought about them as close friends and that they'd actually be that way, to the point that Rory would be the maid of honor at her wedding.
Little did I know that I might take that slot at their wedding. OK, a bit fast and maybe putting my eggs in a basket too soon, but even if I've only heard about them together, they seem like they're so unbreakable. As I slip the handset into the breast pocket of the shirt, I think about how scared I've always been for Paris. That Tristan brushed her off for so long, and how her mother has discouraged romance that doesn't have some kind of influence or scripted feel to it. She's been so discouraged, and I know Louise and I have been bad examples.
But I know that the both of us, we can change and open up to new ideas. I have already by changing so much from Lou, while I hear all the hope in Paris's voice that her stiff and regal demeanor may be loosening up around her girlfriend. I mean, anyone would be lucky enough to have Paris. She's smart, loyal, beautiful, witty and she gives more than 100% to everything she does. While I can only say that although I don't have a sexual attraction towards her (or Louise, let's get that idea of a threesome out of your head right now; Brad told me he only wants me), if I had a list of qualities in a lover, she would fulfill many of them. I'm glad for her, I'm glad for Rory, and for once, I will treasure the intimate moments between them meant for no one to see, but Brad and I can watch and know that we're not alone in this crazy quest for this love thing.
I guess I better get back off to bed, I wouldn't want him to get worried...
Whoa, something's wrapping up around me! What on earth...
And there's a gusty breath in my ear. Oh boy, um, I was so not expecting this. He must have heard quite a bit...
"So I'm like a wolf," a nervous voice says into my ear as the hands of my lover drape across my stomach. "You know, I love wolves. I never thought I'd be compared to one."
"You're a red wolf," I respond, gasping as he folds over the collar of his shirt to expose my neck.
"Canis rufus, a shy and wary species indigenous to the South. Pair-bonding is strong between a male and a female." Oh, lord! It's so late in the evening, and um...he's pressing up against me. Why, hello there, Brad! I was taken aback and struggled for words.
"Brad...sneaking up behind me? Scoring major points with me right now." I feel him press his lips against a spot he earlier marked which should stay hidden beneath my uniform.
"Tell Paris I got her message, but I really want to keep it." I felt him turn me around so we could back right into the bedroom. "Actually, both of them. Um, no need for her to get any ideas about, you know that woman in Virginia, Lorena, I think? I..."
"Shhh, baby. I got it, but we need not say anything." I backed towards the bed. "This would be the first time someone wanted seconds with me."
"Really, never?" I shook my head. "But, you're so beautiful. Who would turn you down?"
"Stupid guys who don't have encyclopedic knowledge of taxidermy and the entire works of the most famous playwrights filling their pot-addled brains." I slide my hand down his stomach and push it into his boxer briefs. "After hearing about Par and Rory doing things all over tarnation, I think I need you."
"Was...um, I'm scared to say something about them."
"Brad, they're hot. I know you think that. And if my talking to Paris about it gets you all hard, who am I to stop you, my ravenous boyfriend, from taking me until I'm exhausted?" Smirking at him, I brought him close. "That's why I didn't have you buy just one condom out of a bathroom machine; I know you want me, so one will hardly do."
"Maddy..." His eyes were wide as he takes me in, beginning to unbutton the shirt. "You're amazing!" He felt like the luckiest guy ever in the history of Chilton.
"You think I'm amazing the first time, just try to think up another word for me the second time, Mr. Cutie." He begins to kiss me and well...
I think my mind will otherwise be occupied for the next two hours or so, sorry folks! All I have to say is, I think the four of us will have heavenly bright glows as we walk into those Chilton doors Monday morning...