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 cross-legged on her bed, the cordless phone wedged between her ear and shoulder as she fiddled absentmindedly with a loose thread on her pajama pants. The soft hum of her dorm room was interrupted only by Rory's voice, crackling slightly through the line.
"I swear, it was the strangest thing," Rory said, sounding both bewildered and exhilarated. "I was walking back to my dorm last night, and I saw this girl in a freaking ballgown—like, Cinderella-level glam—climbing into a black SUV. Right before she got in, she turned and yelled 'In Omnia Paratus.' Can you believe that?"
Alessia listened, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "That's... bizarre, even for Yale. What does that even mean?"
"It's Latin for 'ready for anything,'" Rory explained. "I did some digging today, and get this—Logan's grandfather was in this super-secret society back in the day, and I think that girl was part of it. Which means Logan might be, too."
Alessia perked up at the mention of Logan. "Logan? The one with the blonde hair?" She tried to keep her voice neutral, but she couldn't help the way her pulse quickened at the memory of his smirk and the way he'd effortlessly commanded the room when they met.
"Yeah, him." Rory's tone was laced with suspicion and intrigue. "I asked him about it earlier, trying to get some kind of insider scoop, but he just played dumb. He was so smug about it, too, like he's in on some grand joke I'm not part of."
Alessia paused, the image of Logan's confident smile flashing in her mind. "Well, he does seem like the type to be in some secret club, doesn't he?"
"Exactly!" Rory's voice grew more animated. "And you know what? I'm going to find out everything about this. There's something going on, and I'm not letting Logan charm his way out of this one."
Alessia chuckled softly, but there was an edge of nervousness she couldn't quite shake. The last thing she wanted was to get tangled up in whatever secret world Logan seemed to inhabit, but she couldn't deny that she was intrigued. The thought of him lingered, pulling at her even when she knew she should be focusing on other things—like the fact that Beau had just fractured his wrist on the ice, and Riley was barely holding it together.
After they hung up, Alessia tossed the phone aside and leaned back on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. Her mind was a whirl of conflicting emotions—Logan's magnetic pull, Rory's determination to uncover some hidden truth, and the lingering worry about Beau's injury.
A knock on her bedroom door pulled her from her thoughts. She got up and opened it to find Riley standing there, looking more worn out than usual.
"Hey," he said, his voice unusually soft. "Can I come in?"
"Of course," Alessia replied, stepping aside. Riley walked in, his movements tense, like he was carrying the weight of the whole night on his shoulders. He dropped down onto her bed, running a hand through his hair.
"How's Beau?" Alessia asked, sitting beside him.
Riley sighed. "He's... coping. They've got him down at medical, but he's pissed about missing practice, and I think he's more freaked out than he's letting on."
Alessia nodded, biting her lip. "I hate seeing him like that. He's always so... upbeat, you know?"
"Yeah, it's weird when he's not the happy one," Riley said, his voice tinged with frustration. "It's like... when Beau's off, everything feels off."
They fell into a comfortable silence, each lost in their thoughts. Alessia's mind drifted back to the game, to the way Beau had looked so vulnerable on the ice, his wrist bent in a way that no wrist should bend. She had run to him without thinking, almost slipping on the ice herself, her heart in her throat. It wasn't just worry; it was the realization that she cared far more than she had allowed herself to admit.
"I feel useless," Riley muttered, breaking the silence. "I'm supposed to have his back, and I couldn't even stop that hit."
"Riley, it's not your fault," Alessia said gently, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You were doing everything you could."
Riley nodded, but Alessia could see that her words did little to ease his guilt. They sat there in the dim light, connected by their shared concern for Beau and the unspoken complexities of everything else swirling around them.
Alessia's thoughts flickered back to Logan once more. She knew she shouldn't be thinking about him right now, not when her best friends needed her focus, but the pull was there—a nagging curiosity about the world he was a part of and what it might mean for her.
For now, though, there were other things to worry about. She pushed Logan to the back of her mind and squeezed Riley's shoulder reassuringly, grateful for this small moment of togetherness, even amid all the chaos.
