Between The Bars
For Rory Gilmore, the lazy hazy days of summer hadn't quite left yet. They hung around, cloying, clinging to her hair and her nose and her eyes. School was going to start soon and when she tried to wash summer from her fingers, she found that pieces still stuck under her fingernails.
Summer had been something: something fun, something great, something life changing in that nothing much happened out of everything that did.
She kissed a girl. A pretty girl, one with green eyes and sparkly hair and a little angel tattooed on her hip.
When the teacher asked what she learned about herself over the summer, Rory wondered what she could say without getting kicked out.
Rory Gilmore, apparently, swung both ways.
She remembered feeling the girl's chin bump into her own, and remembered how her tongue -slick against her own- had pressed against the roof of her mouth. The girl moaned something and then the tips of her fingers were pressing into her sides -than again- just under her breasts.
Her teacher would shake her head, sigh, then write a detention slip.
Rory didn't know why she had let the girl do that, let her push Rory against the wall, and let her hands reach for the clasp of her bra. Jesse had been there -that she remembered- when he let the blonde girl with the black bra and the see through top press against him. She remembered thinking that she was angry, that suddenly she was cold.
Then the girl, with the pink eye shadow and sparkling hair and the sex that hung around her in a purple cloud, came up behind Rory. The way she had looked at Rory -with want, with flirtish desire- her hands already itching to get under Rory's black jeans and pull up at the purple shirt that her grandma had bought her... Rory wanted it.
She wanted Rory, and Rory wanted Jesse and Jesse didn't want her.
Maybe if she didn't care as much about the guy, about the way he spoke to her and how he listened -if she didn't care- she wouldn't have let the girl come up to her and let her press her hips into her own. Rory wouldn't have let the girl -with the pink nail polish and the impish smile- move with the beat, and press her chest into Rory's.
When Rory blushed, the girl smiled again, "Virgin?" She asked, and Rory couldn't help but look up at Jesse. He didn't notice that she was being felt up by an eager lesbian and Rory decided to end the summer with-
When the girl's lips pressed against her own, Rory didn't pull away. She let the pink flamingo tongue -wethotmoistwarm- push against her teeth, and let her fingers press against the girl's cheeks.
She moaned into Rory's mouth and her nipples pressed into Rory's chest.
Jess had the girl pinned against the counter, his smirk, the raised eyebrow that she had seen so many times over Proust and Palahniuk; the girl giggled and he ran his tongue against the blonde's teeth.
Rory wanted to stop being so stupid. Taking the train and the bus, and sitting next to the guy with the spit bottle and the guy that scratched his croch whenever she looked at him -it wasn't worth it. It wasn't worth it to see him run his fingers against a blonde's arm; it wasn't worth it to see him kiss her.
Rory wanted to stop being so stupid so badly that she let this girl with pink nail polish and the eye shadow that sparkled with the light, kiss her with a pink tongue.
He didn't notice when Rory let the girl push her against a chair, let her fingers undue the first button on her pants. Rory looked at him as she nibbled on the sparkling girl's ear.
Right here! She wanted to shout, I'm here. In plain air. She wanted him to see her do this girl on the dance floor; she wanted him to be unable to take his eyes off. She wanted him to pull her away from this girl and her pink tongue; she wanted-
The girl had found the edge of her panties and suddenly Rory wanted home. She wanted to be at home with her mom and eat rocky road and watch 'Charlie and the Chocolate Factory'. When she pulled at the girl's hands and untangled their legs, she wanted to cry. She wanted to cry because she was stupid, she was so stupid, being in this bar, being with this girl, being where she was while Jesse was across the room.
The girl snarled something and the pink on her cheeks turned autumn red and Rory felt tears pool under her eyes.
She wanted home and she wanted Jesse, and she wanted this girl with angry lips and fishnet legs and pink nail polish.
The girl turned her head, following Rory's gaze; she turned back and smiled a cross between pity and knowledge. She nodded her head, did the first three buttons on Rory's shirt, and patted down the fabric on her own plaid dress.
"Good luck." She whispered, and pushed a strand of Rory's hair behind her ear.
Maybe her teacher will ask a different question this year, maybe ask if anyone visited another. Rory wouldn't have an answer and she wouldn't have to lie and wouldn't have to think again about her little encounter with the same sex.
She could tell the truth of course.
Her teacher would smile, nod her head, and point to the office.
No, Rory slipped out of the bar and tried to avoid the potholes, that wouldn't do.