So, this totally sucks. And it's been over a year and half. And I'm a horrible person. And this update is woefully too short.

But please, find it in your hear to forgive me. I have been so busy. I'm at this intense summer program at my university, trying to earn some more credits because my ROTC class doesn't count toward my overall course reqs for graduation. Alas, I'm taking 18 and 21 hour semesters and I sort of want to kill myself. I had some extra time, so I decided to write this little bit. Hopefully (except for the length) it doesn't disappoint.

-Liz MacGregor

Rory opened her eyes. It was dark. For a split second, she didn't know where she was. Then the events of last night came crashing back into her mind. Jaime. Paris. Paris cheating on Jaime. Jess. And the alcohol.

Oh, the alcohol.

Twenty seconds after the kiss, Jess and Rory were engaged in a entertaining round of Who will break the awkward silence first? Neither was about to budge any time soon. Their eyes were locked, both sets glassy, Jess and Rory both refusing to blink.

"As fun as this is," came a voice from the bedroom, "I think we ought to have another round."

Rory turned, only a hint of disappointment readable on her features as she took in the disheveled and drunk Jaime Bridgeport.

"Sorry buddy," Jess said. "Bar's closed."

"That's preposterous," Jaime started in a surprisingly convincing of John Clease. "A bar is never closed if you have enough money." He wobbled towards Rory and gently (or, as gently as one can while inebriated) nudged her to the side, allowing him to open a cabinet drawer. He pulled out a large bottle of cheap peppermint schnapps.

"Breakers, Jess?" Jaime asked. "Really? I didn't know they packaged schnapps in a plastic bottle. Ah well, booze, as they say, is booze." He unscrewed the cap and took a generous swig. "What is this? Eighty proof?"

"Ninety," Jess corrected him.

"Ninety. Good." Jaime swallowed another mouthful. He then offered the bottle to Rory.

"No, thank you," she said, waving her hand in front of her in a motion that said, "I never touch the stuff."

Liar, she thought to herself. She made her way to the small bathroom at the end of the hall. Opening the medicine cabinet, she saw that the Tylenol had been placed in front of the five or so bottles of vitamins.

"Nice to know these boys have their priorities straight," Rory mumbled, popping the top off of the bottle and dry swallowing two small pills.

"Pass me a couple, would ya?" She was startled by the unexpected voice, and dropped the bottle of Tylenol. When it hit the water in the toilet bowl, the splash reverberated seemed to echo, the only noise separating Rory from Jess.

"Sorry."

"It's okay. I've gotten through much worse hangovers without Tylenol. I can handle this one."

Jess grabbed the bottle out of Rory's hands. "You-" he started, "You've had enough."

"No, no, no," Rory swatted at him, "no, no. You've had more."

Jaime plucked the Breakers from Jess' grasp, "I'm the one who is being consoled. I believe I shall drink the lot." He tipped the bottle over his head, gulping loudly for a few seconds. When he brought the bottle down, he wiped his mouth with the corner of his striped oxford. "This is shit, Jess."

Jess rolled his eyes.

"Why are you trying to make me drink shit, Jess?"

Jess reclaimed his bottle. "Doesn't look like I'm having to do much in the way of force there, Jay." He took a sip before shoving the bottle in Rory's direction. Without hesitation, she took it and polished what was left.

"I don't usually drink like that."

The vibrant shad of pink her cheeks were turning amused Jess. He reached out for her elbow and guided her towards him. "Chill, Gilmore. You're fine." He wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on top of her head. Just then, a loud buzzing filled the air. Both teens groaned, their headaches still prominent.

"Stop hitting the fucking ringer," Jess called out as he left Rory, headed for the door. Rory followed him, wanting to punch whoever had just inflicted that torturous racket upon her. She stood behind Jess as he opened the door to the small apartment.

The person outside tried to speak, but was cut off before she even could begin.

"What do you want?"