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He wasn’t wrong; she knew that. It was strange that her newly proclaimed best friend barely talked to her about the fact that her twin brother died a mere two months ago. Yet…she also knew part of the reason they never spoke about it was her own fault. She probably should make more of an effort to be there for Melanie.

But her mind was a little too preoccupied these days. Mostly over the fact that her final season on Haverport’s varsity soccer team was about to come to a close and she had no idea what to do with herself the rest of the school year—let alone after graduation. And maybe more importantly, she still had no idea how to get her other best friend of over ten years to talk to her again.

* * *

Rory pulled into her driveway on Chestnut Road and let out a low curse. After the emotional roller coaster she just went through at Scoops—the high of being at work with her friends, the lows of realizing it was the last time until March—she hoped to come home to an empty house. Her plan included pouring herself a giant bowl of Lucky Charms, ignoring her Calculus homework, and watching Peter Pan. She was making her way through all of the Disney animated movies again, but this time in the order they were released. Alice in Wonderland was her Sunday night watch when her mom had to work a double at the Haverport Diner, leaving Rory home alone with the Mad Hatter, Cheshire Cat, and a frozen pizza. Tonight was supposed to look similar, but her mother’s bright red Prius parked outside of their house pointed to her perfectly planned evening being doomed before it could even take shape.

Which, of course, made no sense. Thursday was trivia night at the diner, and Gabriella always worked the late-night shift for those extra tips. And yet, here she was…and Rory really didn’t want to deal with it.

She groaned as she climbed out of her car, slamming the door behind her and slinging her backpack over her shoulder. The day was surprisingly warm for mid-autumn, and the heat from the sun caused a bead of sweat to trickle down her spine. She huffed, ignoring the front door and what faced her inside as she walked to the edge of the lawn. It was magically covered in more campaign signs even after purging some that same morning. She pulled them out one by one, not daring to look at the gleaming smile of Garner Clark. The man was bound to win first selectman, just like every other election year, yet that didn’t seem to slow down his campaign fairies from littering the neighborhood with his horror-film-worthy smile every day.

After tossing the last one in the dumpster, she straightened and surveyed her handiwork, then trudged her way up to the house. She took a deep breath in a pitiful attempt to try to calm herself, then opened the door.

“Hi, sweetie!”

Rory blinked twice as she took in the scene in front of her. The living room had been completely transformed. A massive sheet hung from the ceiling and cascaded down to the floor into a canopy. A few strands of twinkle lights draped down the sides, disappearing into a mound of pillows on the floor. The coffee table was pushed to the side, but you could barely see the surface of the wood thanks to the endless number of bowls filled with all kinds of junk food covering the top. Cheetos and Hershey Kisses and Twizzlers and tortilla chips next to a steaming bowl of hot queso.

“Gabi…” she began, no small amount of concern lining her tone. “What’s going on?”

Her mother huffed. “You know I really hate that you call me that.”

She ignored her. “Did you take all of the pillows in the house and make a massive pile in the middle of the living room?”

She smiled. “Yes! It’s a little slumber party surprise for you.”

Rory crossed her arms, pushing down the hope that was starting to bloom in her chest. “Why aren’t you at the diner? It’s Thursday.”

“Well,” Gabi started, hesitating as she crossed the room to get closer to where Rory still stood by the front door. “I remember how hard this day was for you last year, so I thought I would do something to cheer you up.”

“With a slumber party and lots of junk food,” Rory said flatly. “Just like Gilmore Girls.”

Gabi crossed her arms. “Hey now, you’re not being fair. I’m trying to do something nice here.”

She shook her head, not surprised at her mother’s lack of denial. While some parents got their parenting advice from books written by actual professionals, Gabi used the show Gilmore Girls as her rulebook. Sure, their stories were similar, Gabi had Rory at 19, her father didn’t stick around, and they lived in a small Connecticut beach town where everyone knew everyone’s business. But for Gabi, the show was like a religion in itself…hence how her name came to be.

Rory detested it. She hadn’t watched much of it, but from what she gathered from the show, Rory was nothing like the fictional one on screen. Fictional Rory had no idea what to do when it came to boys. Real Rory was not above making out with someone, even if it was just for fun. Fictional Rory never really went to parties or drank. Real Rory had her first sip of alcohol at 14. Fictional Rory was always the smartest in the room, the top of her class, and an aspiring journalist bound for Harvard (or, apparently later in the show, for Yale). Real Rory was average in the classroom, had yet to apply to any college, and had absolutely no clue what she wanted to do with her life.

But that didn’t stop her mother from working extra hours and late nights to save up for Rory’s education. Which meant she was always out of the house.

Rory was used to being by herself at this point, used to the disappointment that had made a home in her heart. So the fact that Gabi was here with an absurdly over-the-top sleepover setup didn’t sit right with her. There was no way her mother was choosing her over work.

“You know, if we really want to live out your fantasy, Rory Gilmore would say no and go straight to her room to do homework instead of succumbing to her mom’s whims,” Rory reasoned.

Gabi shifted uncomfortably. “Actually, um, the sleepover isn’t for me.”

There it was. Her stomach sank as she dropped her backpack to the ground with a thud.

“I was thinking you could invite Melanie over, if you want?” she continued. “I know it’s a school night, but I called her mother and she said she didn’t mind.”

She blinked. “You called Mrs. Albertson?”

“Yeah, just to make sure it was alright before you offered,” Gabi continued. “And I was—”

“Wait,” she cut her off. “So you are going to work?”

Gabi wrung her hands, a nervous tic Rory was aware she’d developed in recent years. “Yes, but not at the diner.”

She stood there in silence for a moment, staring at her mother, who was now looking down at her shoes. “Did you lose your job?”