In The Forgotten Gilmore, Alessia Gilmore grapples with adolescence in Stars Hollow, a town where gossip flows as freely as coffee at Luke's Diner. Overshadowed by her mother Lorelai's bond with twin sister Rory, Alessia finds solace in her irrevere...
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Alessia sat at the kitchen table, papers strewn around her as she filled out her college application forms. Her GPA was higher than Rory's, a fact she took some pride in, though it was often overshadowed by Lorelai's constant praise of Rory's achievements. As she worked, she could hear Lorelai and Rory in the living room, excitedly discussing their trip to Harvard.
"Mom, should I mention the student council in the personal statement?" Rory asked, her voice filled with enthusiasm.
"Absolutely, honey," Lorelai replied. "Harvard needs to know how amazing you are!"
Alessia sighed, feeling a familiar pang of resentment. Lorelai had barely acknowledged her application process, let alone offered to help.
She glanced at the house phone, which had been ringing incessantly with calls from Isabella, her best friend. Alessia didn't feel like talking, so she let the calls go to voicemail.
She couldn't stop thinking about Isabella not telling her that she had seen Rory and Jess kiss. It felt like another betrayal on top of the many she'd been feeling lately. Feeling increasingly isolated and frustrated, she decided to call Beau. At least he made her feel valued and appreciated. She dialed his number and waited for him to pick up.
"Hey, Beau. I'm bored and could use some company. Want to come over?" Alessia asked, trying to sound casual.
"Sure, but I've got my little sister with me. My parents stuck her with me last minute. Is that okay?" Beau replied.
Alessia smiled at the thought of meeting his sister. "Yeah, that's fine. Bring her along."
"Great. We'll be there in a few minutes," Beau said before hanging up.
Alessia tidied up her application materials, setting them aside for later. A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door. She opened it to find Beau standing there with a little girl who couldn't be more than five years old. She had big blue eyes and curly blonde hair, and she clung to Beau's hand shyly.
"Hey, Alessia," Beau greeted her. "This is my sister, Lily."
"Hi, Lily," Alessia said warmly, kneeling down to her level. "I'm Alessia. It's nice to meet you."
Lily smiled shyly and waved. "Hi."
They went into the living room, where Alessia noticed Lorelai and Rory were too engrossed in their Harvard plans to notice the new arrivals. Alessia led Beau and Lily to the kitchen, where she had some snacks ready.
"Want some cookies, Lily?" Alessia asked, offering her a plate.
Lily's eyes lit up. "Yes, please!"
As Lily munched on a cookie, Beau and Alessia settled down at the table. "So, how's the application going?" Beau asked, nodding toward the stack of papers.
"It's going okay," Alessia replied. "Just trying to get everything perfect. It's a bit overwhelming."
"I bet," Beau said sympathetically. "But you're smart. You'll nail it."
"Thanks," Alessia said, feeling a bit better.
As they chatted, Alessia absentmindedly swore while telling a story. "And then I was like, 'What the fuck?'"
Lily's eyes widened, and she immediately repeated, "What the fuck?"
Beau and Alessia looked at each other in shock. Then Beau turned to his sister, trying to keep a straight face. "Lily, we don't say that. It's a bad word."
"But Alessia said it," Lily protested, looking confused.
"Alessia made a mistake," Beau said gently. "She didn't mean to say it, right, Alessia?"
"Right," Alessia said, nodding. "I'm sorry, Lily. I shouldn't have said that."
Lily nodded solemnly. "Okay."
As they continued chatting, Beau smirked and said playfully, "So, Alessia, are you sure you're ready for college? I mean, with how often you mess up, I thought you might be going for 'Most Likely to Fail' instead of 'Most Likely to Succeed.'"
Alessia's eyes widened in mock horror. "Oh, is that so? You think I'm that bad, huh?"
"Just kidding," Beau said, laughing. "But seriously, you should see me try to cook. I'm pretty amazing."
"No way!" Alessia shot back with a laugh. "Not after last time."
Without another word, she grabbed a bag of flour from the counter and, with a mischievous grin, upended it over Beau's head. Flour puffed out in a dramatic cloud, coating him from head to toe.
Beau's eyes widened in shock as he felt the flour settle. "Hey! What was that for?"
"You said I was going for 'Most Likely to Fail,' remember?" Alessia said, her laughter bubbling over. "Consider it karma!"
Beau tried to brush the flour off, but only ended up making more of a mess. He grabbed a kitchen knife off the counter, waving it playfully. "That's it, I'm gonna murder you!"
Alessia let out a mock scream and bolted for the door, Beau hot on her heels. They dashed outside, flour trailing in their wake. Neighbors peeked out of their windows, amused by the spectacle of two flour-covered teens running up and down the street.
Alessia was wheezing and even though Beau was less fit than her, the constant laughter and running took its toll, and she was begging him to stop chasing her up and down the road with the kitchen knife.
"Stop chasing me with that knife, you maniac!" Alessia shouted, breathless from laughter.
The chase continued, with Alessia zigzagging around the yard and Beau lumbering behind her, wielding the knife in exaggerated, comical swings. The scene was pure chaos, with flour flying and their laughter echoing down the street.
At last, Alessia tripped and fell onto the grass, still laughing uncontrollably. Beau, panting and flour-covered, stood over her, holding the knife with a dramatic flourish. "Beg for forgiveness!"
Alessia lay there, her laughter finally subsiding into giggles. "You naughty, naughty boy," she wheezed, gripping the grass to steady herself. "Come on, Beau, stab me! End my stupidity and suffering!"
He turned the knife so the handle faced her and rolled his eyes. "Apologize."
She grinned up at him, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "Never!"
They both burst into laughter again, the weight of their worries forgotten in the joy of the moment.
