Trouble ─ rory gilmore

six

EVEN though Marley didn't explicitly say she wasn't coming to Rory's Stars Hollow party after leaving Emily and Richard's last night, Rory had a feeling she wouldn't show. Marley looked humiliated when Tristan outed her last night, like she hoped the earth would swallow her whole. She seemed to think that Rory would judge her for being gay, which was blatantly untrue. It made no difference. Granted, it was uncharted territory—Rory had never had a gay friend before—but it shouldn't affect their friendship. All that mattered was that, barring when she left Rory with Tristan last night, Marley had been nothing but a good friend.

Or at least in theory, Marley being gay shouldn't have mattered. It shouldn't affect their friendship, yet it was on Rory's mind all night, in her thoughts even more than her first ever fight with her grandmother. What if Marley developed feelings for her? And, more confusingly, why did that thought not horrify her? Why did her heart slamming at imagining Marley leaning in to kiss her feel more like excitement than repulsion? Last time Rory checked, she wasn't a lesbian.

On her drive to Chilton for the college fair in the morning, Rory rationalized it all. Marley was just her friend and had no feelings for her. Just like Rory wasn't attracted to every man she knew, Marley wasn't attracted to every woman she knew. Rory wasn't horrified by the thought of Marley having feelings for her or trying to kiss her because she liked Marley as a friend. If it happened, she would simply tell Marley that she wasn't into her, that she wasn't into women, and they would move on. Marley being gay would not change their friendship.

And because they were good friends—and because Marley was clearly not okay last night—Rory hoped Marley would come to the party. But as the clock hit 7 PM, 7:01, 7:02, 7:03, she was less and less confident that would happen.

She's not coming, Rory told herself every time someone who wasn't Marley came through her front door. She's not coming.

"Hey, who's that?" Lane nudged her. The two of them sat on the couch, pink Solo cups full of coke in their hands, watching as the house gradually filled with guests. Rory turned her head.

She came.

Marley stood in the hallway holding a small gift bag stuffed with tissue paper. She was dressed casually today, wearing a blue-and-white Chilton basketball letterman jacket unbuttoned over a tight black shirt and jeans. She wasn't wearing makeup other than a thin layer of lip gloss. Somehow, she looked even better like this than she had all dressed up last night.

"Marley, hey!" Rory jumped up off the couch to meet her. She got closer to Marley than she'd meant to. "You came."

"I did." Marley truly thought about not coming. She was afraid of what might happen, and she was also ashamed about running off last night. But she had already agreed to come tonight. She needed to face the music. "And I brought your real gift."

Rory accepted the bag, wondering what was inside. It wasn't too hefty, but it was definitely more than a card. "Thank you."

Damn, she looked cute in her birthday crown and pink feather boa.

"Can we talk later?" Marley asked. She wasn't exactly excited about having this conversation, but they needed it. She needed to explain what happened at the house party last spring and reassure Rory that her sexuality wouldn't impact their friendship. Admittedly, yes, Marley had developed a crush on Rory, but for a multitude of reasons, she would never try to act on it. She would bury it six feet under.

"Sure," Rory agreed, although the prospect of this conversation made her nervous.

Marley was almost as uneasy here as she had been last night. She didn't know this area or anyone in this house besides Rory. She'd never been to a party quite like this before either. The only parties she'd ever been to were stuffy rich people ones, like the party last night, and "my parents are away for the weekend" house parties like the one where she got caught kissing a girl. A casual birthday party full of people there out of desire, not obligation, was unfamiliar.