❝YOU NEVER DISAPPOINT, KID❞
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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ chapter twenty-two,
Gilmore Girls — Season One

March 3rd, 2001

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[ LUCY'S POV ]

     SATURDAY NIGHT IS SPENT AT SNIFFY'S TAVERN LIKE ALWAYS. Since missing one two months ago, I haven't missed a single one. I'm here every Saturday with my dad, where I like to be.

     However, this weekend is especially stressful because come this following week, I have two tests and I feel as if I'm running behind. Due to my lack of sleep and my dying need for coffee every two seconds, I feel as if I'm going to fail these upcoming tests.

     Maisie presented us with food ten minutes ago and I've failed to touch it because all I've been doing is working. If I don't work, I'll fall behind, and I can't afford to fail.

     I feel guilty, yes, but I've spent the entire day working with my dad today because he needed help in the diner. Rachel has been a massive help the past two months but she chose to run a few errands instead, so now I'm studying at dinner.

     "Lucy." Dad's voice sounds strict, and all I do is hum in response. I don't lift my eyes from the pages of my textbook, and Dad says my name again. I once again don't lift my head, and I stay focused on the task at hand. If I can just finish this then—

     A hand covers the page I'm reading. "Lucy."

     I lift my head, my head tilted to one side in frustration. "Oh, it's nice of you to look at me," Dad taunts, and I reach forward to take a sip of my cherry coke that is bow lukewarm.

     I push my dad's hand away. "I have to study," I tell him, but I don't think he actually cares.

     He places his hand over the book again, and I let out a sigh. "Dad, come on, I—"

     "Kid, what's going on?"

     "Sorry," I say, leaning back in my seat. "I just really need to study, and I know it's Saturday but I'm behind and—"

     "How are you behind?" Dad interrupts.

     I pull my eyes off him, shameful of what I'm about to tell him but I have to be honest. "Do you remember that test I did two weeks ago? The biology one?" Of course he knows, he has my freaking schedule on the fridge. "Anyway, I got a B- in that, and..." I hate that I even let myself get a B-. I've never in my life received anything lower than an A because I never allow myself to get lower. I can't believe it. "I just haven't been focusing enough. I should be studying and working on getting into Yale but I've been—"

     "You're a kid, Luce," Dad interjects, and I look over at him. "What's the point in all this if you don't live your life? You're sixteen, you've got your whole life in front of you and a B- isn't bad, okay? It's not going to affect your future."

     "A B- is bad for me," I say, and he scoffs, shaking his head at how ridiculous I sound. "I know I'm just a kid but I want my future to mean something, Dad. I want to do something great and if I have to study during dinner, I'll study during dinner and—"

     "One test won't define your future."

     "What if I don't get into Yale?" Dad's eyes widen, and he acts as if it's the craziest thing I've ever said in my life. "I mean, seriously, what if I don't get in."

     "Now, that's crazy talk." I turn my head towards Buddy who has stepped over to our table with another cherry coke— a cold cherry coke— for me, and I gracefully take it. "You're an incredible kid, Luce. You're going to make us all proud, you know?"

     "I've been trying to tell her that," Dad says, and I look between the two men and groan into my hands. "Seriously, Luce, you're making no sense to me."

     "What if I keep getting low grades, and I burn out, and then you have a failure for a daughter and—"

     "Hey!" Dad doesn't raise his voice to me much, but when he does, everybody listens. I clamp my mouth shut, and I stare at him as he leans forward to speak to me, "Luciana, will never, ever be a failure to me, okay? Kid, I don't care where you go in the future, but I never want you to think that you're some kind of failure to me because that is the very last thing you are."

     I peel my eyes off Dad— the man who repeatedly supports me no matter what— and I stare down at my hands. I feel Buddy reach out and squeeze my shoulder. "What your dad said," he says, and I chuckle softly. "You're a good kid, Lucy. A smart one."

     I feel my eyes prick with tears, and I feel my stomach churn and twist in an uncomfortable, overwhelming way. There's a tense feeling in the side of my head, a feeling that's pounding against my skull due to the exhaustion I feel of trying to be perfect all the damn time.

     All I want is to be perfect. All I want to do is strive for excellence and achieve all my lifelong goals. But I've been... distracted, and I hate that I've let myself deter from my schoolwork. It's nobody's fault but my own that I'm distracted, and I know I need to work on getting myself back on a safe track again.

     "I've just been distracted," I admit, shrugging my shoulders, and I feel Buddy take a seat alongside me.

     "Is this boyfriend distracting you? I'm sure me and your dad can sort him out, right?" He looks over at my Dad who nods in agreement, and I can't fight the smile on my face.

     But it's not Tristan's fault. No, he's been the one to back away when I need to study. He lets me study during our dates together, and he even studies himself so I feel better about working. He's kind, and literally perfect in every way. None of this is his fault, even if my dad will choose to believe that it's his fault.

     I shake my head. "It's not Tristan's fault," I assure, but neither Buddy nor my dad look convinced. "It's not."

     "You swear?"

     "I swear."

     When Buddy and Maisie discovered that I have a boyfriend, they were insistent on meeting him and approving. Sure, my dad approves— kind of— but as my surrogate grandparents, they want to meet the boy who has quite literally stolen my heart these past few months.

     I promised them that they'd meet him soon, probably during the summer because that's when I have the most time off. I have a few school projects and classes to attend but I'm free for the majority of the summer, meaning I have all the time in the world to spend with those who matter the most to me.

     "If it's not Tristan, what's been distracting you?" Dad asks, and I take a second to think about it because I really don't know.

     I shrug. "I don't know. I just... I've been procrastinating more than I ever have before. I've been doing everything I can to avoid work and I don't know why because I love work."

     "No sixteen-year-old should ever say that," Buddy jokes, and I nudge him lightly. 

     Dad doesn't say anything, he just shifts in his seat to pull out his wallet from his back pocket. I watch, my eyebrows knitted together as he opens his wallet and pulls out a photo. I grin when I catch a glimpse of the horoscope message— the one Lorelai wrote to him in 1996. Dad then opens a section of his wallet and pulls out what he intended to.

     I watch as he pushes a photo towards me.

     It's a mini print of me wearing a Yale t-shirt. I have the widest smile on my face, and the t-shirt is far too big for me, especially since I look about twelve in the photo.

"That was you in 1997," Dad confirms that I was thirteen when he took this ridiculous photo of me, and I chuckle lightly because it's quite sweet that he'd keep it in his wallet.

"Aren't you sweet?" Buddy chuckles, and I can't believe that Buddy has known me my entire life sometimes.

I turn my attention back to Dad, confused as to why he's showing me this. "When you were thirteen, you told me that you wanted to go to Yale," he tells me, and I find it hard to believe that it's been three years since I burst into the diner and announced my wishes to go to Yale.

"You came bursting through the door. "Dad, I'm going to Yale," is what you said over and over again, and when I asked why, you said, "I'm going to be a lawyer and I'm going to make you proud," and I just smiled and accepted that." Thirteen-year-old me sure knew how to impress her dear old dad, right?

      "You came home with this exact t-shirt. They were handing them out, and you bought one— one size too big— and I decided to take a photo of you then to show you when you do get in." I reach a hand up to brush the tears that are stupidly falling down my face. "And when you do go, I'll take another photo to show you that you made it all on your own, kid."

Honestly, damn my dad. Damn him.

I swallow the feeling in my throat, tears falling down my cheeks, and I feel a hand on my back. I glance at Buddy who offers me one of his signature smiles. "Look at you," Buddy says, and I look back at the tiny photo of me with blurry eyes.

"At thirteen-years-old, you decided that Yale would be your future, so don't let this girl down, Lucy," Dad says, and I nod, my head falling against Buddy's shoulder.

"So, I'll ask you again, why do you want to go to Yale? And forget about me, kid, why do you want to go to Yale?"

"I want to be somebody I can be proud of," I say without hesitating, and Dad smiles proudly. "But I really do want to make you proud, Dad."

"You're already making me proud, Luce."

"Didn't realise we were having an emotional Danes' meal tonight," Maisie says, and I glance over at her to see that she's leaning against the back of my chair. "My, I've never seen you two so upset in my life."

I laugh. "These are happy tears," I insist.

"I'm getting you cake," she says, her hand on my shoulder, and I smile. "Come on, Buddy, leave them to have their moment."

Buddy and Maisie step away, and I turn back to my dad. My eyes look to the photo of me again, and all I want to do is make that little girl in the photo proud. "What if I don't make it?" I say, my eyes finding my dad's again.

"What if you do?"

Despite how I feel right now, I know that nothing I do will ever make my dad disappointed in me. He'll forever be my number one supporter, no matter what I do with my life. I know he wants the best for me, but if I end up not going to college, he won't hate me or be upset with me, he'll find a strange way to understand.

But he doesn't have to worry because I will get into college if it's the last thing I do. I'm going to Yale for myself, and I'm going to Yale for him.

I move in my seat and shift over to my dad so I'm sitting next to him, and I wrap my arms around him in a bone-crushing hug because he has no idea how grateful I am for him. He hugs back just as hard, and I don't let go until there's cake in front of me and my books are officially closed for the night.

"Sometimes I still find it shocking that you're my kid," Dad admits when I'm halfway into devouring the beautiful chocolate cake that Maisie left me with.

Maisie scoffs beside me. "Luke, she's the spitting image of you."

"I know that." Despite not knowing my mom, I think I look more like my dad than anybody else in the world which I'm thankful for. "I just don't understand how you're so smart when I hated every single day of school. I also raised you in a hardware store, and I never went to college. Hell, I nearly didn't finish high school."

Maisie smiles next to me, her arm around me. "You did an excellent job, Luke. She's a wonderful kid."

"I'm right here," I laugh, rolling my eyes because they're acting as if I'm not right here. "And it doesn't matter how you raised me, Dad, you're the reason I'm like this and I'm very lucky to have you."

"Most kids aren't as close with their parents as you are," Maisie says, and I hum in agreement because nobody— other than Lorelai and Rory— have the relationship that me and my dad have.

"I think we're freakishly linked or something," I joke, and Dad scoffs. "When I go to college, I'll cry everyday because you made me attach to you and only you."

"You're a daddy's girl, you always have been." Maisie brushes my hair away from my face, and I chuckle softly because it's very true.

"I'm just saying that I'm lucky," Dad says, but he's never considered that I'm lucky to have him. "I used to leave you on the floor in the store to play with screwdrivers and hammers, and the amount of times you bumped your head... I don't know how you're intelligent."

My mouth falls agape. "My role model, ladies and gentlemen," I scoff, and Dad shrugs defensively. "Leaving me all alone? Did nobody teach you that it's dangerous to do that?"

"You left your daughter with screwdrivers and hammers?" Maisie smacks her hand over my dad's, appalled by his behaviour. "Lucas!"

"What? My dad used to do it with me," he says defensively. "Didn't I turn out fine?"

I shrug, and Maisie says, "Oh, sure."

"Look at her, she's perfectly fine, bumps and all," Dad tells Maisie, his hand pointing in my direction, and I smile proudly.

"I always wondered why it hurts to brush my hair," I joke, rolling my eyes when Maisie nudges me. "Don't worry, I think I'm okay. If I develop amnesia, I'll let you know."

Maisie squeezes my shoulder one last time before she parts ways with us so she can help Buddy with closing up. We've stayed here longer than we normally do, but I can't complain because the conversations we've had today have been necessary. I feel so much better about everything now that I've spoken with my dad, and I think he feels better about it all too.

I finish my chocolate cake, and Dad gives me three napkins to wipe the chocolate around my mouth.

Dad asks for the bill, and before we have the chance to pay, he turns to me and says, "Look, there's something I wanted to discuss with you. It's a bit of an uncomfortable subject but..."

I look to him strangely. "What?"

"How is it going with Tristan?"

I'm a little confused. "Uh, good. But how is that an uncomfortable subject?" I laugh, and Dad shifts in his seat, obviously distressed by the topic at hand. "Dad, what's wrong?"

     "You've been together for..." He pauses, allowing me to fill in the blank.

     "Nearly four months."

     "I just want to know how quickly you're moving."

     "How quickly I'm moving out?" I joke.

     "Luce..." I know what he's asking, I'm just trying to ignore the fact.

     I sigh. "We're moving along fine," I say, shrugging my shoulders. "There's not much to tell, I promise."

     "But are you and Tristan considering taking your relationship to..." He pauses, trying to find the words, and I find his uncomfortableness amusing. "To the next level," he finishes.

I lean back in my seat. "We're not having sex, Dad," I deadpan, and Dad just stares at me. Maybe I shouldn't have announced it like that.

He clears his throat, shifting again in his seat. "Have you, uh, thought about it?"

I have to think for a second which probably terrifies my dad, but I honestly don't know. I think I've thought about it subconsciously... At times, when we're kissing, it can get heated but then we pull away before we overstep. Sometimes, I want to keep going, but I also don't think I'm completely ready to take that leap.

I've been silent for a minute and Dad is visibly panicking. "You gotta talk to me, kid."

"Sorry," I say, bringing myself back into the conversation. "I haven't given it much thought," I admit honestly. "I mean, maybe one day but I really haven't given it much thought right now."

"Okay." The colour in his face returns, and I find it amusing. "Things may continue to go well with Tristan like they are, and you may want to take that step, okay?" I nod, a little afraid to speak up. "You don't have to, and if he ever, ever pressures you into stuff like that, then—"

"He wouldn't do that." He'd never pressure me, and he certainly hasn't tried to since we started dating. He's been kind, sweet, and attentive and he's never once overstepped.

"I know that, Lucy, but I want you to be careful, especially with how young you are and—"

"You were young when you had me," I interrupt, and Dad nods.

I know Dad isn't ashamed of how things turned out, but he also doesn't want me to end up like my mother. He wants me to live my life and not have a kid so young. He doesn't regret how things turned out, but he wants me to live a different life to him which I understand.

Dad leans back in his seat. "Luce, I trust you, you know that, right?" I nod. "If you tell me that you and Tristan aren't having sex, I believe you, but I still want you to be careful so if you ever want to take that step then—"

"I'll tell you, I promise," I assure.

"Good." He breathes a sigh of relief, and I smile softly. "I just want you to stay safe."

"I know, I appreciate it, Dad."

One day, I'll take that step I'm sure, but it's only been a few months and I genuinely don't wish to take that step just yet. I'm sure I'll reach that step, and I may not be with Tristan, but a part of me hopes I am.

I grin over at my dad who looks less panicked. "Aren't we mature?"

"You're a thirty-year-old in a sixteen-year-old's body," Dad says sarcastically, and I smile, amused because what he's said is true. "You've been this mature since you were a kid."

"Very true."

"You're more of an adult than me. You always have been," Dad jokes.

I shrug. "I was a kid for a few years, don't you think?"

"Oh, sure."

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authors note:

sniffy's tavern was in literally one episode in gilmore girls despite luke apparently going a few times a week so i decided to make it real.

and i like the idea lucy and luke having a place to go to

and it adds to the story

you'll see a lot of maisie and buddy— they're basically grandparents to lucy so they gon be important