In the heart of Harvard, Alessia Gilmore is ready to embrace her second year and the independence it brings. After a summer spent reconnecting with friends and discovering herself, she's determined to step out of her twin sister Rory's shadow and ca...
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The morning sun was trying to be gentle, but it caught in Alessia's eyes like a spotlight as she pushed open the door to Luke's Diner. The bell above jingled its usual tune—sharp, metallic, a little too chipper.
She blinked under the weight of the fluorescent lights and tried not to look like she'd cried herself to sleep in her sister's bed.
Luke barely looked up from behind the counter. "Morning."
Alessia slid onto a stool and cleared her throat. "Hi. Um... just coffee."
He gave her a once-over. "You want food with that?"
"I'm good."
Luke poured without asking further, the comforting rhythm of mug to counter, hot pour to cool ceramic grounding her just a little.
"You're back," he said.
She nodded.
"For long?"
"Don't know yet."
He grunted. "You Gilmore girls like to keep your itineraries vague."
Alessia gave him the faintest of smiles. "Not all of us have spreadsheets for souls."
Babette's voice piped up from a booth behind her. "Well, look who the cat dragged back! Alessia Gilmore in the flesh! You look like you've seen a ghost, sweetie."
Alessia turned. "Hi, Babette."
Babette wiggled her fingers and grinned. "Thought I heard your voice. When'd you get in?"
"Last night."
"Oh, I bet Lorelai just flipped, huh? She must've been over the moon."
Alessia looked down into her coffee. "Sure. Something like that."
Babette made a sympathetic noise, but didn't pry. "Well, it's good to see you. You always added some edge to this town—like a little splash of whiskey in the tea."
Luke gave her a look. "Babette, it's nine in the morning."
"And I'm not driving, so what's the crime?" She sipped from her mug and winked. "Well, I'll let you two catch up. But you ever wanna drop by for a drink or some girl talk, my door's always open."
As Babette stood and shuffled out, Luke slid a fresh napkin in front of Alessia and leaned a little closer.
"You okay?" he asked, softer now.
She shrugged. "Not really."
He didn't press. Just nodded, like he understood what it meant to be not okay and still moving.
A door creaked open behind the counter. Footsteps.
Luke turned. "Hey, grab the rest of the boxes from the back."
"I just got them—"
The voice stopped mid-sentence.
Alessia froze.
Jess.
He stood in the doorway to the back room, hand braced against the frame, hair messier than usual, worn black hoodie half-zipped. He looked just as surprised to see her as she did him.
Their eyes locked—uncertain, curious, cautious.
"Hi," she said, the word small, tentative.
"Hey," he replied, voice just above a whisper.
A long beat passed. Not awkward. Just full.
Luke glanced between them, his mouth twitching. "I'm gonna... go pretend to wipe down menus."
He walked off, leaving Jess and Alessia in the wake of everything unsaid.
