Written In The Stars • Gilmore Girls

Written in the Stars

Four days later, in the Yale newsroom, Aurora was sitting at one of the desks, flipping through some notes when Paris stormed in, her expression intense as always.

“I had a dream about you last night,” Paris announced as she dropped a stack of papers next to Aurora.

Aurora looked up, her eyebrow raised slightly. “Did we get married again?” she asked, remembering the last time Paris had come to her with a bizarre dream.

Paris shook her head. “No, not this time. You know what you did?” She sat down dramatically across from Aurora, leaning in as if about to drop a major accusation. “You went behind my back, even though you knew I wanted to be assigned the religion beat. You went to Doyle, cooked him dinner, and stole it from me.”

Aurora blinked, her face blank with confusion. “I did what?”

Paris crossed her arms, her voice sharp as she continued. “You made him veal parmesan. You can’t even cook, Aurora.”

Aurora shook her head, trying to keep a straight face. “I didn’t cook for Doyle, Paris. I barely know how to fry an egg.”

“I’m not done,” Paris went on, ignoring her. “You used a lot of garlic. Like an obnoxious amount. And now, I need to confirm something.”

Aurora raised her hands defensively, unsure of what was coming next. “Confirm what?”

“Let me smell your hands,” Paris demanded, leaning forward, reaching out for Aurora’s hands.

Aurora groaned, rolling her eyes. “Oh my god, Paris. Really?”

Paris didn’t hesitate, grabbing Aurora’s hands and bringing them up to her nose. She sniffed them carefully, her brow furrowed in concentration. “Hmm… is that… vanilla?” Paris sniffed again. “Or pumpkin spice?”

Aurora chuckled, shaking her head. “It’s lotion, Paris. You’ve officially lost it.”

Paris didn’t seem satisfied. She dropped Aurora’s hands and stood up, scanning the room quickly. Paris spotted a girl across the room and took off, leaving Aurora behind.

Aurora watched as her friend accosted the poor girl about some imaginary event from her subconscious.

Paris waved her arms dramatically as she confronted the girl, who looked utterly confused by whatever was being said to her. Aurora decided to let Paris handle it on her own, turning back to her work.

As Aurora continued to shuffle through her notes, a girl approached her, looking slightly hesitant but with a polite smile on her face. She had long brown hair and bright blue eyes, wearing a Yale sweater that screamed “new to campus.”

"Um, excuse me," the girl said, her voice friendly but a bit unsure. "I think you might be sitting at my desk?"

Aurora barely looked up, flipping a page in her notebook. “No, this is my desk.”

The girl blinked, clearly taken aback but still keeping her smile. "Oh, sorry. I’m Rory, by the way. I’m new here. I guess there was some confusion because I was told this desk was mine, but it’s totally fine." She laughed awkwardly. "I’ll just find another spot."

Aurora finally glanced up, her cold gaze meeting Rory’s. "Yeah, do that," she said bluntly, her tone flat.

Rory paused, still standing there for a moment as if waiting for Aurora to say something else, but Aurora had already returned her focus to her work. With a small sigh, Rory gave a quick nod and turned to walk away, her smile a bit more forced now.

Just as Rory disappeared from sight, Paris appeared out of nowhere, crossing her arms and giving Aurora a dramatic stare. "Are you cheating on me?" she asked, her voice filled with mock seriousness.