❝SATURDAY NIGHT'S ALRIGHT❞
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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ chapter ten,
Gilmore Girls — Season One

September 16th, 2000

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[ LUCY'S POV ]

SATURDAY NIGHT.

The night my friends party like there's no tomorrow is the night I  stay in the comfort of my second home— Sniffy's Tavern— eating all the food we can stomach in one evening. Maisie and Buddy do an excellent job at making sure we're both well fed, telling my dad to dump his healthy diet at home whenever he comes here.

I thank Maisie as she brings over dessert— the most gorgeous fudge cake I've ever seen in my life— and another beer for my dad.

"I don't even know why they have menus. It's not like they actually give you what you want." I look over at my dad. He's currently eyeing the cake on the table that I definitely didn't order, but Maisie must've heard my insides begging for something sweet and delicious.

I look at the menu, my eyes landing on the exact cake I'm eating. "I think they just know."

I flip the menu over and, as I eat my cake, I read the story on the back with the biggest grin on my face because I always— without a doubt— read the story off the back. I love this place, and even if the story on the back of the menu is depressing, it brings a charm to this place that no other place has, not even the diner.

Dad grabs the menu from me before I have the chance to finish reading it. "You read this every single week, and I tell you every time that—"

"It doesn't change," I chime in. "I know it doesn't change but I don't care. It's like a need for me to read the back of the menu."

Dad furrows his eyebrows, and I don't blame him for being confused. He probably looks at me many times during the day, and questions how I'm his child. "You're doing it again," I say.

"Doing what?"

"Doing the "How are you my daughter" stare. It's very annoying." I jab my fork into my cake before placing it in my mouth, groaning at how delicious it tastes. God, Maisie and Buddy never fail to impress. I make a mental note to thank them a million times for this beloved cake I've had many times in the past.

Dad clears his throat. "Sorry. It's just..." He pauses, clasping his hands together on the table.

He looks like he wants to say something— something serious— and I'm not sure if I'm in the correct mood to handle something serious from my dad right now, not when I'm indulged in chocolate fudge cake.

     "You okay?" I ask, placing my fork down and leaning on my arms.

     "It's Saturday night, and I mean, when I was your age, I..." He pauses, realising he probably shouldn't tell me— his daughter— what he was doing at my age on a Saturday night. "Anyway, I mean, shouldn't you be hanging out with kids your own age instead of your old man?"

     "You're not old," I quip, even though I call him old on a daily basis, but in reality, he's— "Hey, you're now the youngest parent at school now that Rory and Lorelai are at Chilton."

     He can't fight the grin off his face because I am very good at switching the subject, and it is often amusing. "Well, that's great."

     "I know right." I take a sip of my cherry coke, realising I haven't answered his question. "And to answer your question... I would much rather hang out with you than a bunch of kids my age."

     "You sure?" He doesn't seem convinced, which isn't surprising. My dad often thinks he's holding be back from something but he's not. I simply don't enjoy a lot of people's company's. I only like to be with Nathan, Addy or him, and he knows that but he always asks if I would rather be off at parties or anywhere else but here.

     I nod proudly. "I'm absolutely sure."

     He sighs in relief, and I chuckle as I snatch my fork to take another bite of my cake. "So... I'm the youngest parent again?"

     I laugh, mouthful of cake and I cover my mouth in embarrassment. I quickly grab my drink, not wanting to choke in the middle of the restaurant.

     "Yes," I confirm. "I know how much you've missed the title."

     Luke Danes is the youngest Stars Hollow dad, and a lot of the Stars Hollow mom's like to gawk over the fact. At first, it was quite fun to have a young parent, but now I have to deal with a lot of classmates calling me "Butch's kid."

     My dad was a high school athlete, and he was a bachelor then and, well, he still is. He was very popular, and he won the school many trophies that are displayed in glass cabinets in the hallways. Alongside the trophies and awards, there's pictures of him from when he was seventeen and held the nickname of Luke "Butch" Danes. He hates the nicknames, and he doesn't like how the school can have photos of him without his permission. At first, I found it amusing, but now it gets tiring when people walk by the pictures, stare at them, and laugh at me.

     There's a reason I'm not on any teams at school, and it's because I don't want my photo next to my dad's with some ridiculous nickname. Thankfully, nobody in school is very creative and the only thing I get called is "Butch's kid" or "Diner Girl," which isn't very inspiring at all.

     Now instead of Luke being called "Butch," he gets called the "youngest dad in Stars Hollow," and he wears the title proudly. I think. Although, I'm sure he'd much rather be called Luke...

     "It's better than Butch," Dad mutters, and I cringe because it definitely is. "At least I'm proud to be a dad."

     "Are you not proud of being the best athlete in high school, Butch?" I watch him narrow his eyes at me, and I laugh.

     Sometimes I think I'm best silent, especially right now because Dad looks like he wants to kill me. "Sorry," I mutter.

     "Hey, did I hear correctly that you're the youngest parent again?" I grin up at Maisie who steps over to the table with another cherry coke for me even though I haven't finished the first one. "What happened to Lorelai?"

     She whispers Lorelai's name like it's some big secret that Dad is in love with her. "Her daughter, Rory got into Chilton."

     "Oh, she must be smart," Maisie says, her hand against my shoulder.

     "Hey, not as smart as Lucy," Buddy interjects, and I smile over at the man who steps over to our table. "You don't need some prep school to get into Yale, Lucy."

     Maisie and Buddy have always been so supportive of my future dreams to go to Yale and become a lawyer. They've been my surrogate grandparents since I was born, and I love them like family. I always have.

     "That's what I've been telling her," Dad says, his eyes moving to me.

     "No, our girl is gonna be a lawyer at Stanford." Maisie pushes a kiss against my cheek, and I roll my eyes, accepting that they've got my life planned out for me even if it doesn't go accordingly. "Aren't you?"

     I don't hesitate when I say, "Yes."

     "Good. We might need one," Buddy says, and I raise my brow in concern.

     "The Rhett's giving you trouble again?" I ask, but I already know the answer.

     "Oh, you know it, sweetheart."

     The Rhett's are a family that own a competing restaurant across the way from Sniffy's Tavern. Sure, their place is nice but it doesn't have the same wholesome and homely aura that this place has. The Rhett's have been causing Maisie and Buddy trouble since they moved to town.

     The Rhett's are trying to make more profit than Maisie and Buddy, hoping they can eventually buy them out and turn this place into some dingy, cowboy bar for all the singles.

     I grimace at the idea.

     "Don't worry. When I'm a lawyer, I'll come back and do everything in my power to shut them down." I don't know how much "power" I'll have but I like saying things like that, and it definitely eases Maisie and Buddy's minds.

     Maisie runs a hand through my hair. "Oh, you're an angel, Luciana."

     "We should go in and send their food back a million times. I know that annoys Dad." I look towards Dad who has his lips around the rim of his glass.

     "Taylor does it just to spite me, I swear."

     I grin because it's true. Only Taylor knows how to tip my dad over the edge and into a depressive, angry state. I don't know what it is about Taylor but he's always been a very difficult man to please and get along with.

     Maisie sighs, obviously wanting to move on from the mention of the darn Rhett family. "Is everything okay with your food?"

     "Yes." I smile widely. "Thank you for this cake. It's divine. I want to be buried with this."

     Maisie chuckles, her hand flattening my hair again. "Oh, I'm sure we can have something arranged, honey."

     When they step away to collect our bill, Dad turns to me and says, "You do know that you'll still get into Yale, without going to Chilton, right?"

     I furrow my eyebrows in confusion. "What?"

     "I saw your face when you mentioned that Rory got in." Of course he did. "Buddy and Maisie are right, Lucy, you're smart enough to get into an Ivy League, okay?"

     I can't fight the smile on my face because, of course, Dad is right. I know I'm very capable of getting into an Ivy League college, even if I don't go to a prestigious private school. There's only been twelve past students who have gone on to Ivy League colleges such as Yale, Harvard and Princeton, and I'm determined to the thirteenth. However, if I end up going to an Ivy-League, my photo and name will be plastered on the Stars Hollow High "Wall of Fame," which is probably less embarrassing than my dad's photo.

     "Okay," I reply to my dad. "Anyway, I have to go to Yale so I can then go to Stanford and be Maisie and Buddy's lawyer."

     "Exactly."

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September 17th, 2000

I SIT IN MISS. PATTY'S STUDIO watching my best friend twirl and pirouette, her figure steady as she moves from her spin to leap across the floor smoothly, her feet planting against the ground softly.

     I've been watching her dance around the small space for the last hour, her arms swaying beautifully and her feet gliding across the floor smoothly. She's an excellent dancer, I've always thought that, and sometimes she needs reminding how gorgeous her movement really is. And to say I know nothing of ballet or dance, I'm truly mesmerised by my best friend.

     Addy trips over her foot, her body falling forward but she catches herself just before her head hits the floor. "Crap," she curses.

     I rush over towards her, holding my hand out to her to help pull her up. "You okay?"

     "Oh, honey. Are you okay?" Patty comes rushing over to us, her hands flailing forward to help me pull Addy up and off the floor. "I think you need a break, sweetheart."

"I agree." I push my hand in Addy's and pull her over to the bench where she sits and drinks her weight in water.

Every Sunday, Addy dances in private for Patty who observes her routine and gives her tips, something Addy really appreciates, especially since she's aiming to go to Juilliard when she turns eighteen. Every Sunday, I come and watch her because there isn't anything else I'd rather be doing than watching my best friend. I can't offer much advice or help but I'm always here to supply food and water.

Along with me, Nathan often joins us but he's working today.

Sometimes, if we're lucky, my dad will come and watch her dance. Addy always invites him along, even when she's dancing in Hartford and teaching the younger dancers. He's watched her dance thousands of times in the past, but recently, he's been busier in the diner so I watch her and report back to him.

Addy loves my dad like he's her own father. When her dad died two years ago, Addy sought comfort in me and my dad. We're always there for her, and Dad even pays for her dance classes with Patty so Addy can save the money she makes from her jobs around town while still doing the one thing she loves most in the world. I love that my dad is always there for Addy, and I love that he'd give her anything just to make her dreams come true.

During the weekdays, Addy does several jobs such as working in the diner, working in the bookstore with Andrew, and teaching dance classes with Patty. With her already busy schedule, Addy dedicates three hours of her time afterschool on Fridays to a dance school in Hartford where she volunteers to teach kids of all ages how to dance. Sometimes— if I have the time— I go with her to Hartford and I watch her with the other parents. Usually, I study when I go to Hartford with her but she likes to have me in the crowd for comfort.

I promised her I'd go soon, most likely after this test in two weeks.

"Hey. How did it go on Friday?" I ask, reaching my hands up and tightening the hair band holding her hair up.

"Pretty well. I taught them a few positions. Nothing too crazy," she says, shrugging as she wipes the sweat from her neck with a cloth. "Oh, and you know, Lisa?"

"Not personally, no," I laugh, but I do know Lisa quite well because Addy never shuts up about the golden-haired dancer.

"She asked me for private lessons." Addy's grin is wide as she turns to look at me. "She says she can pay me. I mean, her family can pay me. They're rich, she says, which isn't surprising because I've seen how her brother dresses."

"Her brother?" I question.

"He's the only one who watches her dance every week. I think it's sweet," Addy says, her eyes softening. "Anyway, I said she should talk to her family but I'd love to teach her privately. I mean, I'll get paid and it'll be good money, Lucy. I can finally pay Luke back for—"

"My dad doesn't need you to pay him back," I tell her but she already knows that because Dad has told her thousands of times that she doesn't owe him anything.

But Addy hates being indebted to anybody. "It's very sweet of Luke to pay, Lucy, but I have to give him something, okay? He's the reason I'm here dancing. I owe him everything."

"You know he just wants you to be happy, Addy. He doesn't care about the money," I assure her, but again, she already knows my dad doesn't care about Addy paying him back. He just wants her to do well and accomplish her dreams which I find sweet. "But I still think you should teach Lisa. It seems that she's your favourite."

Addy scoffs. "She's not my favourite. I don't have favourites. I just—"

"You talk about her all the time, Addy. She's obviously your favourite," I say, and Addy accepts defeat because she definitely prefers Lisa over anybody else. She believes that Lisa is far too good for her age, and Lisa reminds Addy of herself when she was ten-years-old and in love with the idea of dance.

"Okay. Fine, she is my favourite," she confesses, and I gasp dramatically. "Shut up. You really need to meet her, Lucy, she's so talented."

"I'll meet her next time I'm there," I assure. "After this test in two weeks, I'm all yours."

Addy points her finger towards me. "I'm holding you to that, Luciana."

I hold my hands up. "I'll be there, Adelaide."

"Oh, and you can keep her brother entertained," she says, a wicked smile on her face. "He's very cute."

I roll my eyes, not interested in who she finds cute. "Right," I scoff.

"He is," she argues. "And I don't like blondes but I do like him..."

"Poor Nathan," I mumble.

"Hey, I wouldn't trade Nate for anyone. I'm just saying he's cute for you, honey." She reaches forward and pinches my cheek, and I bat her hand away. "You can convince her brother to give me money to teach his adorable sister."

"Yeah. I'll do just that," I say sarcastically.

     "I'm not lying when I say he's cute."

     "Oh, who's cute?" I turn to look at Patty who, of course, decides to hear that part of that conversation.

     "This brother of a girl I teach in Hartford," Addy says, nudging me as if I have anything to contribute to this conversation. "Just saying that he's cute and Lucy might be interested."

     "I'm not interested," I confirm.

     "Oh, you've not seen him yet, sweetheart." This woman has had four husbands and she finds any man in the town attractive, even my dad on his best days. The only man she's never really looked at is Taylor which, I guess, isn't surprising. "Do tell me what he's like."

     Addy grins. "Oh, we will."

     "No, we won't," I argue. "Get back to dancing before I leave."

     Addy's eyes widen, and she pushes herself off her seat. "Okay, bossy."

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authors note:

who do you think the mystery guy is with a lil sister??

hint: he's a jerk but not to her & he's cute