The Forgotten Gilmore

Chapter Twenty: Unexpected Encounters

Alessia made her way to the medical center, her mind still buzzing with the events of the hockey game. She couldn't get the image of Beau's wrist bent awkwardly out of her head. The game had been rough, but Beau's injury was more than just bad luck—it felt like a culmination of the night's frustrations.

When she stepped inside, the sterile smell of antiseptic filled her nose, and she saw Beau sitting on the edge of the examination table, his wrist wrapped tightly in a bandage. He looked up as she approached, managing a lopsided grin despite the situation.

"Hey, what's up?" Beau said, trying to play it cool, though the stiffness in his movements betrayed him.

Alessia gave him a once-over, relieved to see he was mostly okay. "Just thought I'd check in. You know, see if you're still in one piece."

"Barely," Beau joked, wincing slightly as he adjusted his bandaged wrist. "But hey, no hospital bills, so it's not all bad."

Alessia laughed, though her concern lingered. "You're really just going to brush this off, huh?"

He shrugged. "It's hockey. It happens."

Alessia nodded, though her eyes lingered on his injury. "I guess. Just... be careful, okay?"

"Always am," Beau replied, his smile softening. "So what's up with you? Got any big plans?"

Alessia hesitated, running a hand through her hair. "Actually, yeah. I'm heading to Yale. Meeting up with Rory."

Beau raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "You're off to Yale? Isn't that enemy territory?"

"More like neutral ground," Alessia said, smiling. "Besides, gotta keep an eye on my sister."

Beau chuckled. "Well, good luck with that. Rory's got a mind of her own."

They exchanged a few more words before Alessia turned to leave, feeling the weight of her lingering concern for Beau lighten just a bit. She made her way across campus, boarded the train, and headed toward Yale. The ride felt long, and the closer she got, the more her mind drifted back to Logan, the mysterious guy she'd met during her last visit.

As soon as she stepped onto Yale's campus, Alessia made a beeline for the nearest coffee shop. The caffeine would help keep her alert—she hadn't slept much since the game, her mind replaying everything over and over. She ordered her coffee, hoping it would give her the jolt she needed to refocus.

But as she stepped outside, coffee in hand, she collided with someone coming around the corner. Hot liquid splashed everywhere, staining her coat, and she stumbled back, catching herself just before she fell.

"Watch it!" she snapped, but her frustration melted away when she realized who she'd run into.

Logan Huntzberger stood there, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Well, if it isn't Harvard's finest," he said, brushing a few droplets off his jacket. "You really know how to make an entrance."

Alessia sighed, looking at her spilled coffee. "Great. That was my wake-up call."

Logan's expression softened, and he gestured toward the café. "Come on, I'll buy you another. Least I can do."

They walked back inside, Logan ordering her a fresh coffee without a second thought. Alessia studied him while they waited—there was something about him that always seemed like he was in on a secret no one else knew.

"So, Rory mentioned something interesting," Alessia said as they walked back outside. "She said she saw someone in a ballgown climb into an SUV, shouting something like 'In Omnia Paratus.' Sound familiar?"