Chapter Six: Jess

          Jess sat hunched over the laptop, the one he had found miraculously in Luke’s room.  It was an i-book.  Luke didn’t seem to be the technological type, but hey, he didn’t seem like the singer type either—yet he has a guitar in his room.  He had brought the contraption down to the Diner, so as not to wake his uncle up. 

Because if you woke Luke Danes in the middle of the night, it would be waking up the giant that lived on top of the Beanstalk.

I just think that with the invention of computers, writing has become a lost art.

It becomes less personal when something’s typed out.  It’s easier yes, but I personally think that the old-fashioned way is better.

Oompaloompa: So, have you read ‘Fear and Loathing In Las Vegas’ yet?

But hey, the internet has its advantages— who am I to question the greatness of Bill Gates?  Or Vinton Cerf? 

How did I know that Vinton Cerf was responsible for this?

Weird how where all these ideas come from.

Jess smiled as he typed a reply.

Pleasekillme: Classic.

Oompaloompa: I agree…  Hey, Jess?  Can I ask a serious question?

Pleasekillme: Shoot me with it.

There was a long pause as Rory typed her serious question.

Man alive.  This is going to be a long question.

…

Ding!

Finally.

Oompaloompa: You know you’re smarter than most everybody at your school. It takes you like five minutes to finish a book. You read everything, you remember everything, you could ace those classes easily. Why don’t you? You don’t need a tutor. It’s crazy that they’re talking about leaving you back.

Huh.  Maybe not.

Jess paused and thought about the question for a long time.

How to answer that.  Hoooow…

Oompaloompa: My life’s starting to flash before my eyes here.

Pleasekillme: Rory…

Oomplaloompa: You can do anything you wanted, you can be anything you wanted, Jess.

Rory believes in me.

His face softened.

She seriously does.

But…

When he didn’t reply, Rory sent another message.

Oompaloompa: Is it like a cool thing?

What?  Nothing could be farther from the truth.

Pleasekillme: I could care less about ‘being cool.’

Oompaloompa: Well, inform me, please.

Jess sighed.

Why must we talk about these kinds of things?

Pleasekillme: I’ll put it plainly for you: I’m never going to college, why waste the time in high school?

Am I right or am I right?

            Oompaloompa: And why aren’t you going to college?

            Jess snorted. 

          There’s a picture worth mocking.  Me in some Godforsaken campus, hurrying off to my next class.  Add a football tucked under my arm and a sports scholarship and I could be Future Dean—only better looking than that beam pole.

            Pleasekillme: Please.

            Oompaloompa: What?  Why is that so crazy?

          Dear little Rory.  It’s the craziest thing in the world, you see.

Pleasekillme: Ask my mother, she could give you a couple reasons. Oh, and I’m sure Principal Mertin can chime in with a few good ones. In fact, ask your mother. She doesn’t know me all that well but I’m sure she could improvise a few things.

Jess was feeling bitter again.

Oompaloompa: Do not give me that whole ‘I’m so misunderstood, Kurt Cobainy’ thing. You are way stronger than that and I don’t even wanna hear it. You have to go to college.

Psh, yeah.

Wait.  Rory just said I was strong.  Like… sexy, manly strong?  Or emotionally girly strong?

Psh, sexy, manly strong—for sure.  No doubt about that.

He felt himself crack a grin.  But then he read the last part.  His face darkened again.

Pleasekillme: No, YOU have to go to college.

You, Rory, not me.

Oompaloompa: But don’t you have any plans?

Pleasekillme: Yes, I plan to get out of Stars Hollow, and I think it’s a marvelous plan.

Oompaloompa: And go where?

Pleasekillme: Wherever.

Oompaloompa: And do what?

Pleasekillme: Whatever.

Oompaloompa: Wherever, whatever.

Jess suddenly felt annoyed with Rory.

Pleasekillme: Look, I’ll live where I live, I’ll work when I need money, and I’ll see where I end up.

Yet, Rory was relentless.

Oompaloompa: You could do more.

He sighed.

No I can’t, Gilmore.

Pleasekillme: Oh, here come the pompoms.

Oompaloompa: No, no pompoms, just me saying you could do more.

Jess paused.  He bit his lip. 

I wish she’d stop grilling me about this.  Pretty soon she’ll be sending me Loving Spoonfuls songs on my belief in magic in a young girl’s heart…

He decided to change to topic towards her.

Pleasekillme: So, Courtney, what about you?

Oopmaloompa: What about me?

Pleasekillme: What are your big ambitions?

She didn’t even hesitate.

Oompaloompa: Harvard.

Wow.  When I said ‘big ambitions’…

Pleasekillme: And after Harvard?

Oompaloompa: I’m gonna be a journalist.

Pleasekillme: Paula Zahn?

Oopmaloompa: Christiane Amapour .

What?  Christiane Amapour?  Seriously?

Pleasekillme: You’re gonna be an overseas correspondent?

Oomploompa: Yes, I am.

No, really, Rory.  An overseas correspondent?

Pleasekillme: You’re gonna crawl around in trenches and stand on top of buildings and have bombs going off in the background and some wars raging all around you?

Oompaloompa: What, you don’t think I can do it?

Hookay, back up here, Jess, you don’t want to be beaten up by a girl over the internet here.  Tread carefully.

Pleasekillme: No, I DO. Just sounds a little too…

Ugh.  What part of ‘tread carefully’ do you not understand, brain?!

Jess stopped, afraid of what he may say wrong.

Oh, God.  A little too what?  What?  WHAT?

Oompaloompa: A little what?

See?  Even RORY’s asking that!  Answer her!

…

Damn you, brain!

Uh-oh.  Quick—a witty response.  No?

A sweet response?  No?

Pleasekillme: Just sounds a little too rough for you.

Oh, hey, how about that?  The only thing my damned brain could form was none other than a STINKING SEXIST RESPONSE!

God!

If he could have beaten himself up, he would have.

But that would hurt, so he didn’t.

Oompaloompa: Well, it’s not a little too rough for me. I hope it’s not a little too rough for me, I’ve been talking about this forever.  I don’t know what I’d do if I wasn’t sure…

And she’s freaking out.  Aaaall because of you, Stupid Inner Voice.

Inner monologues are a bitch.  Yeah, brain, you heard me.

Stupid Jess’ Head Voice: “Just sounds a little too rough for you…” Meeeh…

Wow.  Not only am I TALKING to myself, I’m actually, have an INTERNAL FIGHT with myself.

Sometimes, I hate myself.

I really do.

Pleasekillme: Hey, I didn’t mean to freak you out. I’m sorry. I’m sure you’ll do it. You will, I promise. I’ll help you practice, okay? Tomorrow, you’ll stand in the middle of the street and I will drive straight at you screaming in a foreign language.

Please don’t hate me, Rory.  Just don’t.  Be mad, be upset, just don’t hate me…

There was a long pause again before Rory answered.

Oompaloompa: Well, you’re gonna have to learn a foreign language first.

He smiled.

Well, flirting with me is also a nice alternative…

Pleasekillme: Well, it’s lucky I’ve got me a tutor, isn’t it?

Oompaloompa: Yes, it is.

Then Jess heard Luke’s heavy footsteps, coming down the stairs and into the Diner.

Pleasekillme: My Spider-sense is tingling.  Luke’s coming downstairs.  I gotta go, Oomps.

Oompaloompa: Hey, don’t make fun of the name.

Pleasekillme: Okay.  I think Old Mister Wonka’s coming down to his office.  He can’t see Charlie lurking down here.

I can just see Rory sighing right now.

Oompaloompa: Yeah, bye, Jess.

Pleasekillme: Farewell.

With that, he shut the laptop closed and waited for Luke to come down.