Jamie: hehe yeah, I screwed up on that.. I realized that I wrote that it was a future fic, but what I mean was that this is an alternative universe story. And it was a prologue. Thanks for reading! =)
-Ggirl
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February 2000, San Francisco
"Mom!"
"Rory!"
"Mom!"
"Rory!"
"Okay, getting tired of this game now," Rory replied, irritated, and grabbed a hot poptart from the toaster. "I'm late!"
"No!" Lorelai feigned shock. "Honey, you never told me you..." She covered her mouth with a hand. "Who's the father?"
"Mooom!" This time, it was more of a groan of surrender than annoyance.
"Okay, sorry, sorry," Lorelai said. But she couldn't help but giggle. "Today's the day of midterms, huh?"
"Yeah, a real party going on at Albert Einstein High school in lovely San Fran," Rory mumbled, nibbling on the toasted delicacy. "Spanish, Calculus, Chemistry, and World History today."
"Exciting," Lorelai commented. "What would I give to be in your place?" Lorelai cocked her head, thinking about the prospect. "Not coffee."
Rory made a sound that would give a broken refridgerator a run for its money.
Lorelai looked thoughtful. "In fact, I'd give exactly the same thing I give to the American Association for Plastic Engineers every year. Nada, senorita."
Rory sighed. Lorelai gave her a hug. "Good luck, babe." Lorelai kissed Rory on the cheek. "I know you'll ace them!"
"Thanks." Rory attempted a smile. "I'll see you later?"
Lorelai nodded and waved. "I'll be waiting with a bucket of coffee!" She paused. "Or chicken.." She was confused.
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"No, no, no, no!" Lorelai yelled. "And finally...." She paused, as if she was thinking. "No!"
"But why not?" Charlize whined. "I don't see why an ice sculpture would ruin the party.."
"Because it's a 'June in January' party, not an Eskimo gathering at the ice factory."
"But it could be an ice sculpture of.. flowers."
"No."
"A hula girl?"
"No."
"Dolphins?"
"No."
"A coffee cup?"
"A nice decorative fixture for my house, yes. For this party, no."
Charlize made a face. "Please, Lorelai! My friend.. uh, Smith, he's really, really good. I mean, I'm talking high quality work here."
Lorelai sighed in defeat. "Fine, let me see a couple of Smith's works.. then maybe we can discuss it again."
Charlize's face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Lorelai, you are the best! THE best!" Blowing kisses in the air, Charlize ran out of the lobby.
"Yeah, yeah," Lorelai mumbled. The Johnsons are going to be pissed... Mrs. Johnson had planned the party down to almost every single detail. The pattern of the napkins. The syrup that the hotel cook would use in the parfait. Mrs. Johnson had even had the nerve to tell her what to wear at the party.
"I'll try my best," Lorelai had replied, inwardly grimacing. She had almost had an epileptic fit.
Mr. Johnson wanted everything exactly the way Mrs. Johnson had planned it. Lorelai shuddered.
Lorelai only hoped that this ice sculpture wouldn't throw them off balance. Maybe.. they would even like it. Hello? We are talking about the Johnsons here... Lorelai sighed. They were the pickiest people she had ever seen...
Besides Emily Gilmore... Lorelai shook her head. Where had that thought come out of? Her mother? She hadn't seen Emily Gilmore in... Wow. Was it really 17 years?
The occasional Christmas card. A phone call on Rory's birthday. Seventeen years of relative silence.
Whatever... Lorelai pushed the thought out of her mind and sipped her coffee.
"Lorelai!!!"
A desperate cry from the kitchen brought Lorelai jumping to her feet. As the kitchen door swung open, Lorelai glimpsed a burst of flames near the ovens.
She sighed, but smiled slightly. Just another day at Biltmore Hotel...
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February 2000, New York
"No." Jess glared at her. "I'm not going anywhere."
"Jess," Liz said and sighed. "Four suspensions in 3 months?"
"The last incident was an accident," Jess muttered. "It wasn't my fault."
"Then whose fault was it, Jess?" Liz put her hands on her hips. "Principal McClintock's?"
"Honestly?" Jess asked, raising a brow. "Yes, it was his fault."
"It was his fault that all the fire sprinklers went off in the girls' locker room after softball practice?"
"The guy's a pedophile, I tell you," Jess replied and shrugged. "The man was dying to see those girls running out of the locker room half naked."
"Jess!" Infuriated, Liz rubbed her temples. True or not, she didn't care about the principal's.. extracurricular activities. "You're going. And that's final."
"No, I'm not going," Jess refuted. "And...." Jess paused for effect. "..that's final."
Liz wanted to scream. "Pack your stuff. Your bus comes at nine tomorrow morning."She walked out of his room.
"Too bad I won't be here." Jess mumbled. He turned on his stereo and pumped the volume up to the max. Shaking his head to the music, he searched under a pile of clothes for his copy of Hemingway's Death in the Afternoon. Jess settled down on his bed and opened the book.
For once, he couldn't concentrate. Sighing, he set the book down next to him and got up from the bed. When had she started to act like his mother anyways? It's not like she was around enough to do that. His fourth suspension and she wanted to be Mrs. Cleaver to his Beaver. It's a little too late, Liz. I've already grown up. Jess smirked. It was especially interesting how she
was sending him away. Did she honestly believe that sending him away to his uncle would fix the problem?
Someone needs a subscription to Parent Magazine..
He would find his way out of this. He always did.
Someone pounded on the wall. "Turn that music off!"
Jess rolled his eyes but turned down the volume. New Yorkers are obnoxious.. but I can't live without them.
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