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GG Fic: Sometimes You Do 27/40

A/N: I had the choice of either posting this a day late with all my replies done or posting today with none of them done. I chose today :) I will get to review replies tonight or tomorrow at the latest and I'll just say I'm so grateful for all of them! It means so much to have readers on a fic of this length, so I want to say I appreciate them greatly :)  Earlier parts here.

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

She didn't go to see him the next day. She told herself it was because she had another assignment to write, some 750 word piece about the annual pie eating contest, and that she had to get her interviews done as soon as she could if she was going to hit the deadline.

It was a good excuse, as far as excuses went, because she really had put it off long enough. But the fact was, the fact always was, that it certainly was an excuse. A reason to not go back to the hospital. To not be there when Dean finally checked out and made his way back home.

And not only could she find excuses, but rationalizations as well. In fact, she thought of at least three good ones while typing away at Luke's at lunchtime.

First of all, Dean had not been happy with her. She hadn't left on terrible terms, but she really hadn't left on good terms, either. That wasn't something she wanted to push. Even though he had consented to see her, it had been out of politeness. And Dean shouldn't have to worry about being polite while trying to manage his mother, his sister, and his newfound ulcer.

Second of all, May would be there, undoubtedly, and the last thing she wanted, the last thing Dean needed, was for Rory to go another round with her. Regardless of the fact that Rory had been right, being right apparently didn't make it any easier for Dean or May or probably even Clara. The Forester family's stress was already high, and Rory did not wish to exacerbate it at this point.

And last of all, her mother was insane. Completely. After everything, her mother gave her a speech about love and sacrifice and how Rory didn't get it and, well, that scared the crap out of her. Because she didn't get it. Well, she got it, on that intellectual level, but she didn't get it in that emotional sense, in that way that her heart knew what to do with it, knew how to act on it.

And she wasn't ready to deal with any of it. A withdrawn Dean, a stressed-out May, and a confused Rory was not a recipe for a good day. So she was doing them a favor by keeping far, far away.

Still. She'd promised. Though it wasn't even the promise, not really, not if she was honest with herself. It was that she wanted to see him, needed to see him.

If only she knew what to say.

She always knew what to say. She made her living writing. Yet, when it came to matters of the heart, matters of love and sacrifice, she always blanked. When I love you, you idiot was all she had.

The funny thing was, it had always been enough--for Dean.

But this time...

This time she needed to write about pies and Kirk's goal to down two whole pies himself and the fact that apple pie was the easiest of all to consume.

When Luke came by to fill her cup, he looked with moderate interest at her screen. "You have a deadline?"

"Yes," she said. "The pie eating contest."

"Right," Luke said. "The important stuff."

"People here love their pie."

"And people gorging senselessly on it. It’s despicable, really. The state this world is coming to. No wonder over half the population is morbidly obese. Why our death rate isn’t skyrocketing is beyond me."

Rory shrugged. "I don't make the news, I just report it."

“Excuses. If you’re not part of the solution--”

“I know, I’m part of the problem,” Rory agreed. “I just so like pie. I’m very weak like that.”

Luke scowled a bit. “And pie is worth long years of your life?”

“As long as it’s cherry.”

“Not banana cream?”

“Not even pecan.”

"Dean's getting out today, right?"

He said it without missing a beat, without pausing, like it was totally natural.

"Yeah," she said, focusing on the screen intently. "That's what he said."

"I keep thinking I should go over," Luke said. "But your mom talked me out of it. Said Dean's mother was in rare form."

Rory's jaw tightened and she pressed her lips together. "It is pretty stressful."

"Yeah," Luke said. "I suppose. You going back?"

She opened her mouth, looking up at him. "I, uh--"

"He could probably use a friendly face."

"Yeah," she said, trying to smile. "I might stop by later."

Luke nodded a little. "Good luck with your pie."

"Like I need luck with pie," she commented absently as Luke walked away. Pie, no. Dean, yes. Because Dean could use a friendly face. She just wasn't so sure how friendly hers was anymore.

-o-

Pie or no pie, promise or no promise, she ended up at Dean's house. After dropping her article off, she still had an hour before she would be hungry, longer than that until her mother would be around, and she found herself in front of Dean's place and out of excuses to avoid him.

Apparently, there was a God who believed in such a thing as grace, because Clara answered the door.

“Hey,” the younger girl said. “I wondered when you’d be by.”

“I wanted to give you guys some time alone,” Rory explained lamely, moving inside.

Clara shut the door and Rory noticed for the first time how tired she looked. “We’ve had more than enough of that,” Clara said. “I’m about to implode here. My mom is practically smothering us all and Dean--”

“He’s still doing okay, right?”

“Yeah,” Clara said quickly. “He’s recovering fine. Physically, anyway. But I just don’t know. He’s just not quite himself. Down. And all my mother can do is talk about how all these things need to get done, how she’s being so inconvenienced--it’s enough to give me an ulcer.”

“Sorry,” Rory said. There was more to say, and she could of course agree, but she didn’t need to start any more fights in the family. She’d been there, done that, and she was sort of tired of conflict. For awhile anyway.

“Anyway, Dean’s upstairs,” Clara said. “Doctor’s orders were pretty strict. He’s tried to talk his way back into work but at least Mom’s bright enough to keep him clear of that for the time being, not that she doesn’t make him feel bad about it.”

Of course she did. That was May Forester through and through. Only that woman could somehow make her son who felt so bad over the family business feel worse for feeling bad.

“So I’m glad you’re here,” Clara prattled on. “He needs someone who can make him laugh.”

“Well, I can try,” Rory said. And she hoped it wasn’t a lie.

-o-

Dean was propped up in his bed, staring somewhat forlornly at the TV.

“Man, you think you would get a new one of those,” Rory commented, glancing at the archaic device.

He looked up. “Can’t get rid of a classic.”

“You’ve adapted your very own mode of masochism, I see.”

“Well, if I can’t work, I might as well find other ways to be miserable.”

“Spoken like a true pessimist.”

“It’s a thing I’m trying out.”

“Is this before or after you wound up in the hospital?”

“Point taken.”

She moved farther inside, her eyes perusing the room. "You're looking better," she said. "And your room looks good. You know, now that all the dress-making stuff is gone. Not that it wasn't very stylish, but it never actually screamed Dean."

Dean laughed slightly. "I suppose my mom finally decided that, since I was home to stay, I should have my own space. Now it looks less like a housewife's store room and more like I'm still seventeen."

"A common problem," she agreed. "Though, we could make short work of it. You know, rearrange the furniture, buy some bookshelves--"

"Mahogany or particle board?"

She blushed at that, surprised by the humor in his voice. Shyly, she looked at him. "I think you seem more like a classic cherry person," she said. "Something with clean lines. Maybe mission style."

"Wow," he said. "You developing a secret career as an interior designer on the side?"

She just smiled. "Hardly," she said. "But I think we can do better than old hockey trophies and high school banners."

"Those were my glory days," he protested.

"Oh, please," she scoffed. "After all you accomplished at college? I know you have boxes of stuff somewhere, just waiting to be unpacked."

At that, he nodded. "I guess I didn't see the point," he said. "That's not a side of me most people know."

"Well, most people are missing out."

She had said it lightly, quickly without thinking. And it made him pause, made her pause, and for a second she worried it was the wrong thing--too forward, too obvious.

"So, are you volunteering?" he asked finally.

"What?"

"Volunteering to help me," he said. "Arrange my room."

"Oh," she said. "Oh. Yeah. Sure. I mean, if you want me to. I'm not good at it or anything, but, you know, organizing is kind of my thing. I could totally alphabetize your CDs for you."

"Great," he laughed. "Just what I need."

"Well, we all need organization. Otherwise, how do you find that CD you need in a pinch? An entire moment can be lost while you're searching endless for the right CD and if you'd just organized them logically, you know, by artist name and genre, then it would have been so easy, but--"

"Rory," he interrupted her.

She closed her mouth, smiling nervously. "Sorry. I get a little excited about alphabetization."

He drew his brows together, looking down at his hands on top of the comforter. "About the other day--"

"We can forget the other day," she assured him. "Sometimes, I speak without thinking. Not that you don't know that. It's just a problem I sort of have, and I'm sorry--"

He shook his head, effectively cutting her off. "Nothing has changed with that," he said. He looked up, meeting her eyes. "You know that, right?"

Licking her lips evenly, she tried to nod. "Yeah, I know."

"I know I haven't always been sure about this friends thing," he said. "But you were my friend even when you maybe shouldn't have been. And that always meant a lot to me. You don't have to hide. As long as you understand that this is who I am and that's not changing. This is my family. I can't fight that."

And the simple truth was, neither could she. Well, she could. She could fight and argue and cry and beg, but that wasn't the way to do it. It wasn't right. Not when he was as stressed as he was, not when his world was hanging so precariously by a thread, like it seemed to be. Not when love was about sacrifice and she had no idea what that meant.

"I'm not going to ask you to," she said quietly, almost reverently. "I promise."

She'd promised lots of things to him. She'd promised to love him, she'd promise that there was nothing going on between her and Jess, she'd promised to be just friends. And she'd broken them all.

Somehow, she knew she couldn't break this one. Not without breaking him.

"But you need to promise me something," she said.

He looked a bit surprised. "What?"

"That you'll look after you," she said. "In the most basic sense. No more skipping meals. No more popping Aleve. You're no good to anybody if you don't learn how to maintain this."

Dean’s cheeks reddened a little and he seemed to sink into the pillows. "I feel so stupid about it all."

"Well, you should," Rory admonished. "But I'm pretty sure not for the reasons you think."

"And how do you figure that?"

"Well, you should feel stupid for not telling anyone. For not realizing just how bad off you were. You're too important, Dean. To a lot of people."

To her. She didn't say that, though. She didn't have to. He understood.

"Well," he said. "Thanks."

"For what? Adding to your stress?"

"No," he said. "For being there."

For being there. Friendship or romance, there was no other place she wanted to be.

-o-

She had never particularly dreaded Friday Night dinners, at least not as a general rule. She had been loathe to go a time or two when things were rough between them all, but she had always found her grandparents rather encouraging, humorous even. They doted on her, which any grandchild would love, and they really had always supported her, even if she didn’t always agree in the manner in which that support was manifested.

They had even been so patient with her, sympathetic to the point of utter denial, through the fiasco with the boat and her temporary break from Yale. So really, she knew they understood her needs. So really, the fact that she was working for the Gazette and living at home shouldn’t have been an issue.

But this time, there was no huge catastrophic incident to degrade her self-esteem. There was nothing concrete to point to and call her reason for a lack of initiative. She just didn’t feel ready for things yet, or ready to make her next big move, and she didn’t even know what on earth that would be.

And that was hard to tell her grandparents.

So Rory would have thought she’d be relieved when the topic of conversation switched off her options and her job situation. And she would have, too, if they had decided to discuss the roast chicken they were eating or even the new curtains in the pool house or the fact that the new pool boy didn’t speak one word of English.

But instead, they chose to ask about what was quite possibly Rory’s second-least favorite topic of conversation these days: her social life.

“Have you managed to keep up with any of your old Yale friends since returning?” her grandfather asked. “I saw Wayne Redecker the other day and he said his boy was already back in school for his masters degree. Good boy, he was always a year or two ahead of you in school.”

“Yes,” her grandmother chimed in. “I’m sure you remember him. We had him over to the house.”

Rory did not remember Wayne Redecker or his son, though she wasn’t exactly keen to tell them so. These types of conversations were never innocent and if she wasn’t careful she was going to end up at the only girl at a party again. “I’m not sure I quite recall,” Rory hedged vaguely.

“You’ve met one rich boy, you’ve met them all,” Lorelai broke in.

Her grandmother cast her mother a soured look. “Yes, but the point is that Wayne Redecker’s son is back in the area. I’m sure lots of Rory’s old classmates are still around, either in schooling or in work. I heard that Richard Kenley’s oldest boy is now working in the family business and doing quite well.”

Rory didn’t bother saying she didn’t remember Richard Kenley or his oldest boy, either.

“Emily and I were merely thinking about Rory,” her grandfather explained. “Coming back home can be a difficult experience, even if it is a short furlough for her. She should be sure to find friends, companionship.”

“Oh, I’m fine,” Rory assured them. “A lot of my friends in Stars Hollow are still around. And of course, there’s Mom and Luke, which are a source of unending entertainment.”

“I try hard,” her mother said.

“I suspect you don’t have to try at all,” her grandmother said.

“Hey, that’s funny,” Lorelai replied. “Really, actually pretty funny. I’m impressed.”

Rory couldn’t help but smirk into her plate. Maybe her mother’s ability to be completely illogical and oddly humorous would spare her from the conversation she knew her grandparents wanted to initiate.

Her grandmother sighed and shook her head before looking back at Rory. “If you would like us to help set some things up, we’d be more than happy to,” she said. “I know how difficult it can be, being out of the social loop for so long. But you always did flourish at it.”

No such luck. Not even Lorelai could avert this.

“Of course she did,” her grandfather added. “I’ve even seen many fresh new faces at the club these days. I could probably look into getting you some kind of membership there.”

“I haven’t really kept up my golf game,” Rory admitted, feeling somewhat sheepish.

“Well, it’s not just for golf,” her grandfather said with a suggestive tilt of his head.

Okay, so now it wasn’t just uncomfortable but downright weird. “Uh, really,” Rory said. “I’m good.”

“Yeah, Rory’s doing quite well,” her mother interjected. “She has survived for nearly four years without any meddling from any of us. Which has been more disturbing for us than it has for her, I’m pretty sure.”

It was a good effort and one Rory could appreciate. But she knew that, at this point, it was a lost cause. Tonight was a lost cause. Her grandparents had always wanted to marry her off, not in some controlling way but in the best way possible that just happened to turn out controlling in the end. She loved her grandparents and she even had known some rich boys that were quite acceptable but she was too old to be paraded around and besides, none of them were Dean.

Her grandparents could be very dense to things of normal people and often didn’t understand Rory very well, but apparently they understood this.

"I suppose you're still seeing that boy," her grandmother said with a small sigh.

"Mom, I think if you saw him, you wouldn't think of him as a boy," her mother said with a glint in her eye.

Her grandmother just rolled her eyes. "Lorelai, really, you are much too old for such antics."

"I hope I never get that old," her mother said. She looked at Rory, nodding. "You know what I'm talking about."

And of course Rory did. The physical nature of Dean was enjoyable, but it was more than that. Which was why she was not prone to humoring her mother right then. Or putting up with her grandmother. "If you're both referring to Dean, then, yes, I am still seeing him."

"Really?" Lorelai asked. "You both figured that out?"

"Well, it's not like totally figured out," Rory admitted. "But we're still spending a lot of time together."

Her grandmother pursed her lips a little. "I thought we were past that," her grandmother said. “He’s never seemed quite trustworthy. After all, it hasn’t worked out any other time with that boy.”

"He's no more a boy than I am a girl," Rory said shortly, all too aware that her grandmother was right--but that had been her fault and she was going to make that right. "And he's perfectly trustworthy. More so than any other guy who I've been with."

"We always were rather fond of Logan," her grandmother said thoughtfully.

"Yes, well, Logan was rather fond of himself as well," Rory said. "And I just wasn't fond enough of him."

Bristling a little, her grandmother smoothed her face over with a smile. "All the same, you do seem to be getting rather old to be entertaining childish pursuits."

Rory rolled her eyes. "It's not childish."

"And you two really are picky," her mom added. "I was too young, Rory's too old. What is there? A two year window that we all happened to have missed?"

"There simply comes a time when a woman has to figure out where she's going, what she wants," her grandfather said pointedly. "It's not an easy thing to do, making the decisions that affect the rest of your life."

It was a familiar song and dance. One Rory had heard, one she'd even bought into many times in her life. That was her reason for coming home to begin with--to figure out where she was going. To set that next goal. So, how she'd ended up like...this, she wasn't sure. She wasn't even sure what this was. She still had dreams and desires but...there was something more she wanted. Something she couldn't quite explain. Something she felt when she was with Dean. "Well, I'm still figuring them out as best I can," Rory said.

“Well, we want to help you figure them out,” her grandmother said. “In all areas. You’ve turned into a marvelous young woman and so we think it is only appropriate that the life you live here should reflect that on every level.”

“Yes,” her grandfather continued. “Socially and in the work force.”

“You’ve always been supportive,” Rory said, a little uncertainly. She glanced at her mother, who shrugged in equal uncertainty. “But I’m not changing things with Dean. At least, not the way you want.”

The table lapsed into silence, her grandmothers lips pursed and her grandfather looking at her seriously for a moment.

“Well,” her grandfather said finally, reaching for his wine glass. “right now we’ll not talk about him.”

“Yes, that’s an issue for another day,” her grandmother followed. “We want to help you with other things--social connections, a new place to stay, job-related opportunities, we’d like to help. Get you situated as a young and upcoming member of the elite circle.”

The elite circle. Rory had never totally aspired to this, but she’d never run from it either. She knew her mother’s disdain for it, but it had always been placidly interesting to her. Yale had opened her eyes up to the wonders and woes of that lifestyle and she had to admit, her days of socializing with Logan and his friends had been fun. Intoxicating, literally and figuratively. But her time on the campaign trail and her time in Detroit had grounded her in her career aspirations. She didn’t care about social status. She cared about writing the news as best she could. She had given up the social elite along with Logan.

Her grandmother was smiling at her grandfather and the hair on Rory’s arms began to prickle. Something was up. Something big. Something...and she couldn’t be sure what. And she couldn’t decide if she was looking forward to finding out or not.

“Well, I’m just trying to figure out where I want to go next,” Rory said. “You know, the best step in my career.”

“Exactly. And we want to help you on your way," her grandmother said.


"Yes, very much so," her grandfather chimed in. "You have such wonderful potential, and we want you to be held back by nothing. We've thought long and hard about this, and we feel the timing is right."

Rory cocked her head, curious. Gifts were not uncommon, nor were they usually understated. But the way her grandmother smiled at her grandfather, almost a little giddy, if Emily Gilmore was ever giddy...

Her grandfather produced an envelope from his jacket pocket. He held it out, nodding at Rory to take it.

Tentatively, all too aware of the fact that her entire family was staring at her, she got up, taking the envelope from her grandfather's outstretched hand.

She was shaking a little as she ran her fingers under the seal, though she was not sure why. Her breath quickened as she pulled out a single slip of paper: a check.

A check for twenty thousand dollars.

At first, she thought it was a mistake. A trick of the light. Maybe it said twenty dollars, maybe two hundred, even two thousand, but...twenty thousand?

Twenty thousand dollars?

"Is this...?" she tried to ask, too overwhelmed and confused to make sense of it. She looked up to her grandfather, smiling proudly, her grandmother blushing with excitement, her mother totally perplexed.

"What is it?" Lorelai finally prompted. “A gift certificate to Mina House of Nails? Ooh, maybe the title to a brand new motor home!”

The humor was lost on Rory. "It's a check," she breathed, looking at it again. She looked at the scrawl of her grandfather's handwriting. The zeroes after the two. "For twenty thousand dollars."

Her mother's mouth dropped open. "Are you serious?"

She held it out to her over the table and her mother took it, her jaw dropping. “You’re giving her twenty thousand dollars?” she asked. “What’s the catch?”

Her grandmother shrugged. “There is no catch.”

Her mother laughed, shaking her head. “There’s always a catch,” she said. “I mean, with Chilton, with Yale, there was a catch. We could just call you Yossarian and be done with it.”

“I wouldn’t call dinner a catch,” her grandmother said.

“Oh, it’s a catch.”

Rory could hear them, she was listening to them, but it didn’t quite make sense. Not quite. Not quite with twenty thousand dollars and a catch that wasn’t quite out there yet and what would she do with this much money at once?

“We want to give Rory the world,” her grandfather interjected. “She’s a bright girl. A special girl. We’ve always been more than willing to help her achieve her dreams. We’ve so enjoyed being a part of her coming of age and now we are eager to see what other wonderful things she has up her sleeve.”

That left her mother speechless, which was really saying something, though Rory was still gaping like a fish herself because she’d gotten money from them before. Lots of money. Chilton and Yale were expensive, but this? A check to do anything? She’d never seen the money before. It had never been hers to do with as she pleased. She’d never been allowed to spend carte blanche. And that had always been good with her because she wanted great things but she didn’t like thinking about the price tag and money had never really been on her mind but maybe because it’d never had to be and twenty thousand dollars?

Her grandparents were watching her now, with those small smiles of excitement that they were so prone to when they were lavishing gifts upon her. Parties and dresses and checks for twenty thousand dollars.

“You don’t have to know how to use it now,” her grandmother told her. “Just know that you are meant for great things. Nothing should make you settle. Nothing and no one.”

Rory caught her drift and she stiffened for a moment. “I can’t promise you anything,” Rory said. A further response rose in her throat and she swallowed it. That was a conversation she’d had with them before, one she didn’t need to relive. Not now. Not with twenty thousand dollars in her hand. “I mean, I don’t know what I want yet.”

“And you don’t have to,” her grandfather swooped in. “Just know that you can.”

That she could. She could do anything. The thing she’d always been told. That expectation. The complete and total trust that she was supposed to do more than normal people, that she was better.

She was so grateful for all of it, she was, because of the things she’d done, the things she’d accomplished.

This was what she needed. A proverbial kick in the butt. The catalyst to jump start her. No more Stars Hollow. No more Gazette. No more living at home and being just an average girl. Great things, special things. Her grandparents grand plan that had never worked out with her mother and now she could see it in their eyes: it might work with her.

Rory was used to expectation. She was used to living up to it. And she had twenty thousand dollars to do it. There was nothing else standing in her way. Nothing else stopping her.

“Thank you,” she said. “You’ve always been so generous and so supportive and thank you.”

She didn’t know what else to say. She didn’t know what else to do. She didn’t even know what was out there for her, what was waiting for her right beyond the safe city limits of Stars Hollow.

And she was out of excuses to put off finding out.

Next

 

Comments

Posted by: sidura (sidura)
Posted at: October 6th, 2009 05:27 pm (UTC)

Hello there - just caught up with the chapters that I had missed and eah it was just an ulcer, which isn't good but better than giving the boy a genetic heart condition.

Did like the whole Rory actually seeming to get that other peoples lives didn't just follow her rules and growing up and Lorelai being her lovely self laying it out for her, even Richard and Emily seem to be in character.

Though wondering what you are going to make her do with the cheque as even after everything she has worked out simply holding it in her hand seemed to bring out some of the old Rory that we all know and 'love'

Posted by: do i dare or do i dare? (faye_dartmouth)
Posted at: October 9th, 2009 07:17 pm (UTC)
happy together

Hi again :) I didn't want to be THAT mean to Dean--an ulcer seemed like more than enough to afflict him with :)

I'm glad they all seem in character--as for the check, that is a question for the next chunk of the fic!

Thanks!

Posted by: Dani (pinkphoenix1985)
Posted at: October 6th, 2009 08:28 pm (UTC)

This is a great part!

I loved all the conversations especially the one between Rory and Dean!

and Emily and Richard are spot on!!

(I can't wait to read the story where they finally say sorry to Dean for all the BS they've given him...)

Posted by: do i dare or do i dare? (faye_dartmouth)
Posted at: October 9th, 2009 07:17 pm (UTC)
adorable dean

(I need more time to WRITE!!!)

And I'm glad you're still enjoying it. You are one of my favorite reviewers :)

Posted by: Dani (pinkphoenix1985)
Posted at: October 10th, 2009 11:48 am (UTC)

(I'm sure! ;) *hugs*)

oh thx! I really enjoy this story- and I'm so not into GG fanfic

Posted by: reken (reken)
Posted at: October 6th, 2009 08:50 pm (UTC)

The dialogues are ♥
Emily and Richard are so in character here - it's like reading a script to an episode:))

Posted by: do i dare or do i dare? (faye_dartmouth)
Posted at: October 9th, 2009 07:18 pm (UTC)
rory sorry

Emily and Richard are kind of scary to write for some reason, so I'm glad they came across okay :)

Thanks!

Posted by: ChristianGateFan (cgf_kat)
Posted at: October 6th, 2009 09:55 pm (UTC)
pic#89712014

Uhm...wow. Is it just me, or is this going to make the remaining chapters much different than the past 27 Stars-Hollow-riffic ones? LOL.

And Rory and Dean! Awwww! So cute again for a while there, finally, after all the angst. Maybe they're getting somewhere....Great chapter! Thanks!

Posted by: do i dare or do i dare? (faye_dartmouth)
Posted at: October 9th, 2009 07:19 pm (UTC)
playful

They are cute, aren't they?

Rory has a lot to figure out--the money just forced the issue :)

Thanks!

(And when are you posting a new chapter!!!)

Posted by: ChristianGateFan (cgf_kat)
Posted at: October 9th, 2009 10:14 pm (UTC)

Really sorry! I had to go to the doctor monday because my upper respiratory infection still hadn't cleared up, so I missed school and had to spend tuesday catching up, and then Wednesday after school I came down with the stomach flu and I'm still not back up to snuff. I have to catch up on what I missed yesterday because I was out of school then too, and I have an essay to write as an English midterm that's due Monday, and my Spanish midterm is Tuesday, and most of tomorrow and saturday I'll actually be gone, so I have to get it done tonight. Oi. If I can't get t any writing tonight it'll be Monday. If not before, I should be able to post with you on Tuesday. :)

Again, really sorry; welcome to my life. :P lol

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