PROLOG

She looked over her notes. She had only a few months left. This was usually the exciting time, the time she looked forward to as a student: spring semester. It was cold and snowy, because it was February, but it was still spring semester. And this was her final spring semester. It would be topped off by her final finals and graduation. It should have been amazing.

But, Logan was acting out again. The media company acquisition was ill thought-out. The trip to Las Vegas was just outright stupid and, as she studied, Rory tried to picture her life ahead. Logan wasn't in it. He didn't have a role in her future. Rory thought that would make her sad, make her cry. It didn't. And the fact that it didn't make her cry almost made her sadder.

She called Paris, she tried to talk as Paris just preached about chauvinism and the problem with men in general. Paris helped her move her stuff back into their apartment. They hugged, made up and made study guides.

Logan was still in high spirits when he came back. Well, he was still marinated in spirits. He talked about getting on the straight and narrow. Rory met him at the airport, not wanting him to see their half empty apartment. She didn't agree to go to the bar with him, instead she said, "Let's just go out for pizza." She broke up with him quietly, not wanting a scene. He always enjoyed a scene but he didn't like letting himself be seen as the butt of it. He pulled out a ring box and opened it wordlessly as she felt herself tearing up and said, "Logan, no. I'm sorry: no." She put too much money on the table, covering his drink and the food. She didn't want him to have to pay for being dumped. "Logan, it's over. I moved back in with Paris. I'm sorry."

She left fast and went home, stopping at the kiosk for coffee, to Paris who took one look at her and said, "I wrote a new study schedule, the old one wasn't good enough. Pizza and Chinese food is on the way." Rory held out one of the coffees. "How did it go?"

"He produced an engagement ring," said Rory. "I felt badly for him." Paris glanced at her hand, "No, Paris, tears and a ring did not sway my decision."

"Well, you let emotions rule you sometimes," said Paris.

"Not this time," said Rory. "This time, I just thought about my future and what I really wanted."

"Good girl," said Paris. "We need to get our lives in order to really get the most out of this semester."

CHAPTER ONE

She started to get scared, as the semester wore on and she got more and more rejection letters. Her mother kept telling her it would be fine because she was awesome. Her grandparents were angry that she dumped Logan without their permission and were unwilling to discuss anything but that. Paris was freaking out over grad school.

Feeling truly overwhelmed, Rory called the person who knew her best. He picked up with a, "Yeah, this is Jess."

"It's me," said Rory. Then, worried that he wouldn't recognize her voice and would hurt her by asking who she was, she added, "Rory."

"Rory," he said and she could hear his smile, "I know your voice. How are you?"

"I'm good, no I'm not. How are you?" she asked.

"I'm actually good — no modifier. What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just don't know what I'm doing; I'm panicking. I keep getting rejected from newspapers. I'm freaking out. Mom keeps saying I'm awesome, Paris is just as stressed out waiting to hear from med schools and law schools."

"What about Logan? I know you don't want to use the connection but does he have any ideas?"

"We broke up."

"Oh," said Jess. "When?"

She shrugged and realized he couldn't see her, "A couple of months ago… I didn't call you because I didn't want you to think that you're backup, or to imply that you're not with someone or that you would care… well, of course you care because you care about me but… what am I going to do?"

"Have you considered going back to him? Prostitution is a really ugly word," said Jess, "I mean, it wouldn't have to be that long. You just need the job then you can ditch him." Rory started to laugh. "There we go; was searching for the laugh. You're gonna be okay. You're going to keep applying to everything, you're not going to get complacent or lose hope. If all else fails, you could be an intern here. It's not much, but it's something. So, Paris applied for med school and law school? Fill me in, Gilmore, that sounds hilarious."

They talked, catching up, laughing, for the first time in weeks she felt like she could breathe. At almost one she said, "You have got to get up for your grownup job and I have an early study group. Thank you, Jess. Jess," she paused, "I didn't call you before because you were never a second choice."

"Gilmore, get some sleep. I'll talk to you soon. Call me anytime, especially if Paris finally explodes. I missed your voice."

"I've missed you too," she said.

"Night, Ror," he said.

"Night, Jess, thank you."

It became a pattern. Every night, either she or he called. They talked about life, about work at Truncheon Books and school. They talked about Luke and her mom.

She told her mom about it and her mom went quiet. "He isn't the same boy who broke my heart. But he is the same boy I always knew."

"I just worry, sweets."

"Mom, he grew up, I grew up and you grew up too. He was not a great boyfriend but — short of running off to California — he wasn't a bad one. You never liked him because he wasn't Dean and he wanted to see me naked. Dean convinced me it was okay to cheat on his wife and I am at the point in my life wherein I like it when people see me naked. He was rude to you when you first met and you were condescending to him when he was hurt and sad and a stranger. Neither of you ever gave each other a chance. I like talking to him; I missed talking to him and he's always known me, my mind, my heart. I'm happy about this. Be happy for me."

Her mom was quiet, clearly think, maybe reflecting on the years, "Just don't let him talk you into robbing a bank."

"I talked Logan into stealing a boat, generally I'm not the one getting talked into stuff." That made her mom laugh. "The only thing he ever talked me into was going back to Yale."

"He did?" asked her mom. Rory had forgotten that they'd been estranged at the time. They'd never talked about the night she decided to go back.

"He came, one night, to show me he'd published a book. He was so excited and he wanted to share that excitement with me. And he met Logan, was thrown by my even associating with him. He was angry at me, not about Logan, about my life. He looked me right in the eye and said, 'What's going on with you? This isn't you, Rory. You know it isn't. What's going on?' And he looked so disappointed, so confused. I didn't have an answer for him. He was right. So, I reenrolled. Everything you tried to do by cutting me out, everything Grandma and Grandpa tried to do by being supportive, everything Logan tried to do by keeping me busy — none of it had as much of an impact as Jess' shock. He was right. He said once that he always knew we were supposed to be together. I think we were always out of step. We were never both at the same place at the same time."

"And you think you are now?" asked her mom. It was a gentle tone, no judgment or censure in the words.

"Right now, I'm just really happy to have him in my life, even as a voice on a phone. Jess makes my life better," she said. Then they moved on to news of the town, home and life.

For six weeks, Rory and Jess talked everyday about art and books and good coffee. They talked about their days, friends and lives. It made her feel happy even as she continued to get rejections. She knew that, every time she opened an envelope, she would at least be able to talk about it with Jess.

Freaking out about a test one night, she told him she needed to cram on the Franco-Prussian War, "It's Friday night, I am exhausted and I need to study. Grandma is still so angry about Logan and I just need to pass this test. It was the worst Friday night dinner since… well, the worst in a long time. They aren't always fun, but they usually aren't that bad."

"It was over three months ago," he said, "She isn't over it yet?"

"She really wanted a Gilmore/Huntzberger alliance," Rory said. "It didn't matter to her that it was toxic. To her this is a business deal. And he is still sending candy grams, and bards and jewelry. And all of it is distracting me. I just need to study."

She could hear his smile as he said, "Okay, start and finish dates?"

"July nineteenth of eighteen seventy to May tenth of the following year," she responded quickly.

"And what happened on August forth?"

"Um… the Germans crossed into Alsace," she replied.

"Who was the Prussian Chancellor at the time?"

"Otto von Bismarck."

"And what empire came crashing down because of the war?"

"The French Second Empire," she replied.

"How did the Prussians keep their numbers up?"

"Conscription," said Rory

"And who led the French Second Empire?"

"Napoleon Sandwiches," she said.

"If you aren't joking, you need a good night's sleep," he said with a laugh. "I can't tell because your voice is slightly slurred. It's Friday, you have all weekend to study."

"Shouldn't you be out? It's Friday night."

"No, I'm rereading Mark Twain's letters," he said, "Why go out with friends when you can stay in with one and not wear pants?"

"Now there's a question for the ages. The Thomas Jefferson Snodgrass letters too?"

"Obviously, they're his early forays into the vernacular tone. Not reading the Snodgrass letters is like going to the bathroom in CBGB: you're missing a large part of the picture."

She laughed, "I'm glad you're back in my life, even if it's only your voice. Were you just asking the study questions off the top of your head?"

"I'd love to come for a tour. I could be more than a voice on the phone," he said, not answering how he knew anything about the Franco-Prussian War.

"Well, I actually have a quiet week, after my test on Tuesday, I mean. I have some classes but no papers until a first draft due Friday. I don't even have class on Wednesday. We could hang out."

"I can come?" he sounded pleased.

"I would love that," said Rory.

"I will see you Tuesday afternoon."

She hit the end call button and went out to the living room where Paris was in her craft corner, "Jess is coming to visit."

"Our Jess?" asked Paris, clearly calling him "our" in reference to the times they hung out in high school.

"He's not your Jess," said Rory, not thinking, still dazed by the fact that he was coming.

"Is he your Jess?" asked Paris, looking surprised.

"I don't know… I've missed him. We've been talking recently. He's coming Tuesday, after my test."

"Why?" asked Paris, sounding both irritated and smug — only Paris could pull off the combinations.

"Just for a visit," said Rory.

"A visit to your lady parts?"

Rory sighed, unsure, "We have to scrub this apartment and the kitchen."

"We don't use the kitchen," said Paris.

"But Jess likes to cook," said Rory.

"So, Jess is sleeping here and making you breakfast?" said Paris. "Will he make me breakfast too?"

"Paris, please, this is Jess. Help me clean."

Sighing, she said, "Fine, but we never did this for Logan or Doyle."

"Logan was rarely here and Doyle lives here. He's my Jess," said Rory, "help me."

It took four hours of scrubbing. It should have taken longer but they got into a silent competition. When they were done Paris said, "Okay, we can't mess it up until after he leaves."

"I should go to bed: I'm exhausted, but I'm going to call Mom."

"Of course you are," said Paris.

Rory went back to her room, with its newly vacuumed carpet, and sat on her bed. She dialed the landline, aware of the minutes on her cell phone, she'd been using her cell phone to talk to Jess and it was piling up. Her mom picked up saying, "Sweets?"

"Hey, Mom."

"Hey, Rory, that dinner was hellish. How is studying?"

"Jess started quizzing me off the top of his head. Sometimes he scares me with how smart he is," said Rory.

"Well, he always was a smarty," conceded her mom.

"He's coming to visit me after my test on Tuesday."

"Visit?" asked her mom.

"I'm really excited," said Rory. "Paris and I cleaned the apartment."

"Right, because Jess Mariano is a man who really prizes a clean house."

"We got pretty competitive; our apartment has never been this clean," said Rory. "The roomba got a night off."

"Poor Roomba," said her mom, "its only purpose got taken away."

"I'm really excited," repeated Rory.

"Is he staying the night?"

"Well, I haven't decided one hundred percent," said Rory, "but, probably, yes. I mean, if he wants to stay here, that is. I'm not going to coerce him or anything."

"No means no," her mother reminded her. Rory laughed and, in a cautious tone she said, "I hope you two have a nice time."

"Thanks, Mom."