Disclaimer: don't own any of it.

AU: So Tristan never got sent to military school. And dean and Rory are conveniently over. Jess isn't really a love interest in this.

Rory Gilmore looked at the impressive building in front of her.

"Third years the charm. I bet junior year will be the one to finally make you happy that you decided on this torture chamber as a school," her mother told her.

"yeah. I bet." Rory answered. And with that she slid out of the car, un-bunched her plaid skirt, and made her way to the entrance.

Fifteen minutes later and one broken locker, Rory wondered how a school could charge so much and yet still have such crappy lockers. She banged on it a bit, hoping it would magically pop open.

"Need help?" A voice behind her asked.

She turned and saw a guy who was in her math class the year before, Tim …something.

"oh sure."

He delivered one swift pop of the fist and the locker gave.

"Thanks."

"No problem," he smiled at her.

"Yeah that was very nice of you Tim. Scurry along now," a voice came between the both of them.

Tim looked rather distressed and then without so much as a word to Rory, he took off down the hall.

"Do I even want to know what that was about?" Rory asked, turning to face the smug mug of Tristan Dugrey.

"Probably not," He smiled sheepishly.

"Why'd Tim look so upset?" Rory crusaded.

Tristan leaned against the locker next to hers, looking very much like a king reigning over his territory.

"Probably because he's afraid of what'd I do to him, seeing him like he was."

"Like he was? He just opened my locker for me and anyway what's it matter to you?" Rory said crossly.

"I want to be the one of open your locker, dear. Every morning, I want to be your white knight."

Rory rolled his eyes at his bravado, "that's all very nice. But what I mean is why does Tim have to answer to you?"

Tristan showed her the infamous smirk then and obviously took delight in saying, "because everyone answers to me at Chilton."

"Oh, I forgot," Rory said with another roll of her eyes.

Tristan continued, "The guys here know that you are a favorite of mine. They think twice before messing with you."

Rory felt a little nauseous hearing his proud owner of a harem-esque tone.

"A favorite of yours, please could you be more Neanderthal?"

Tristan's grin stretched across his face, "for you, yes."

Rory gathered her book into her arms and then faced him again, "Besides, Tim wasn't 'messing' with me. He was being nice."

Tristan shrugged, "yeah. I don't really like them to do that either."

Rory looked at him, a bit befuddled by his sheer nerve, "are you telling me that you are personally responsible for my total lack of interaction with the boys here?"

Tristan shrugged again, "What do you care? You have bagboy anyway."

Rory scanned her schedule one last time and absentmindedly said, "we broke up," before starting her walk down the hallway.

Tristan looked at her retreating back. What?

"So you're single Mary?" He shouted down the hallway, drawing the attention of other Chilton students.

Rory chose not to answer.

Mary.

Funny how Tristan's nickname didn't phase her so much. Probably because it was no longer appropriate, something she didn't plan on letting Tristan find out. It would probably break his cocky, self-righteous little heart to know someone else had done the deflowering.

Somewhere over the summer, her and dean had turned stale. Mistakenly thinking the solution was taking it up a notch rather than parting ways, Rory had slept with him. Despite whatever promises she had made, Rory hadn't chosen to share this information with her mother. She had quite collected her thoughts about her no longer virginal status. It had mattered a lot less than she had expected it to. She was sure her mother would have been able to tell instantly but surprisingly Lorelai was still oblivious to it. She had thought it would fix her and dean, it hadn't -- they broke up a week later-- and she, mainly thought it would change her. She didn't feel any different. In fact it was one of more uneventful turning points of her life. However, she had a feeling, still aware of Tristan's eyes burning into her back, that this year was going to pick up. Like her mother said, three's the charm.