I

Jess stood outside the house, afraid to get any closer, until he started to feel like the guy on the Exorcist poster. All he needed was a streetlamp to stand under. And a higher window to stare up at. He'd always found it a little weird that Rory slept right across from the kitchen, but hey, easier access to coffee. Probably what got her started so young.

As it was, he could partially see into her bedroom from his post in the front yard. Her light was on, turning the room she occupied into a warm, glowing square from the outside. The whole thing was so damn wholesome, Jess wouldn't have been surprised if the square had turned blue and Florence Henderson's head had popped up. Instead, Rory walked past the window and Jess felt his hands tighten around the lining of his jacket pockets.

For a moment he panicked, very aware of the neighbourhood prowler vibe he was giving off just standing there on the Gilmore lawn in the middle of the night. Then he realized Rory would never have been able to see him from her window with her light on. He might have skipped the physics classes when they were explaining the intricacies of light and optics, but Jess knew a girl in a well-lit room could not see her decades-old ex pining for her outside like some boom-box-less John Cusack.

Jess had tried to go back to his mom and TJ's place that afternoon, but he'd ended up driving around aimlessly on an accidental tour of small town Massachusetts, listening to his car radio mock him with classics like "Don't You (Forget About Me)," "I Ran (So Far Away)," and "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For." Jess had practically felt his life flashing before his eyes. "Like a Virgin" was a bit of a slap in the face and he'd stabbed his finger at the off button after that.

He just couldn't get the image of Rory jumping out her front door at him, manuscript pages in hand, out of his head. He had been really surprised when she didn't hug him. He was also surprised by how disappointed he was that she didn't hug him. I mean, it was weird, right? Jess mentally conferred with himself. A big show of emotion like that, and then no hug? No question about it, they had unfinished business.

He had sent a quick text to his mom to let her know she wouldn't be seeing his blanketed form draped across one of her numerous (Why? Was it TJ's doing?) couches the following morning, then pulled back onto the highway with a clear destination, and no plan whatsoever, in mind.

Now Jess flicked his eyes up to the second story. No lights, no signs of movement. No witnesses for his potential crash and burn. You show up at a girl's place of employment, casually flirt, and make prolonged eye contact and you can still walk out of there, no harm no foul. You pull a Romeo Montague under her window around midnight and you're pretty much committed.

Jess shifted back and forth. It was freezing outside.

Fuck it, he thought. He crossed the lawn to the front steps and braced a hand against the railing, his legs shaking slightly. The thud of his feet rhythmically hitting each step steadied him. Fitting that he was getting his sea legs just in time to go down with the ship.

References in this chapter:

The Exorcist directed by William Friedkin

The Brady Bunch created by Sherwood Schwartz

Say Anything directed by Cameron Crowe

"Don't You (Forget About Me)" by Simple Minds

"I Ran (So Far Away)" by A Flock of Seagulls

"I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" by U2

"Like a Virgin" by Madonna

Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare