Trish's watch alarm beeped, and the two teenagers flipped over on their beach towels from their stomachs.

"I need more oil," Lorelai said sleepily, nudging her friend's shoulder with her free hand while the other lay across her eyes against the brightness of the sun.

"It's in the bag," Trish replied, her body supine and still.

With a sigh, Lorelai heaved herself upright, reaching for the bright pink beach bag nestled by Trish's head. Once again, Lorelai was glad she'd tagged along on this last minute beach trip. Some relaxing tanning sessions were exactly what she needed before having to face another year of cotillions and debutante balls, and being paraded around by her parents in other arcane upper crust mating rituals. If she had to do another fan dance, she'd lose it.

She dug around in the bag until the smooth plastic bottle brushed against her fingers. She pulled it out, sitting cross-legged on her towel, and poured some into her hands. Her gaze traveled along the shoreline as she oiled herself up. There was the usual smatterings of families, small children carrying sand buckets and toys, their worried parents hovering nearby. Other teens like her and Trish, some splashing around in the waves and others reclined on beach chairs or sprawled on towels. As her hand smoothed oil over her left arm, she paused suddenly. Walking along the shore was a boy, tall with light brown hair tucked inside a baseball cap. He was wearing a sleeveless shirt and swimming trunks, but his arms caught her attention. They looked strong, nearly chiseled, and she had a strong desire to see them flexed.

"Smoking hot boy, 2 o'clock," she murmured, and Trish opened her eyes.

"Huh?" Trish struggled to sit up. She shielded her eyes from the glare of the sun and looked down the beach. He was shuffling slightly, kicking at the sand along the lapping waves. "He's okay," she said, and flopped back down onto her towel.

"Okay?" Lorelai looked down at Trish, who'd already closed her eyes again. "Are you blind? Look at those arms."

"Meh," Trish replied. "Snack stand guy is better looking. Plus no baseball cap."

"Ugh, you're such a snob," Lorelai laughed. She tucked the bottle of tanning oil back into the bag, and lounged on her towel propped up on her hands. She watched him walk closer to where they were, hoping he would look up so she could get his attention. She adjusted her breasts in her string bikini, hoping to make her meager cleavage look more appealing. At least her stomach was flat.

He was completely oblivious to her gaze, continuing to walk along the beach, not looking at any of the beach goers along the shore. The closer he got, the more she wanted to talk to him. Or do more than talk. She could see the strong line of his jaw, his athletic-looking legs, even the barest trace of a six pack whenever the wind whipped his shirt against his chest. She waited with baited breath until he walked directly in front of her towel.

"Hey!" she called. He didn't even flinch. "Hey!" she called louder. Nothing. She growled a little. "Hey! Hottie in the baseball cap!" That got his attention. He stopped, and his head swiveled. "Hey," she said, smiling flirtatiously. She dug her toes into the sand at the edge of her towel, trying to pose like a supermodel.

"Hi," he replied, and she felt her insides twist. God, his voice was sexy too.

"What's your name?" she asked. He looked confused.

"Why?" he replied, and Lorelai hesitated. She was a teen girl wearing a bikini. Why wasn't he falling all over himself to get to know her?

"I'll tell you mine," she offered, keeping her smile in place.

"No thanks," he said, and began walking again.

"Hey, wait a minute!" she said, scrambling to her feet. She jogged a little to catch up to him. "Something wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," he replied brusquely.

"You don't like to make friends?" she pressed.

"Not in the mood," he replied.

Lorelai's jaw dropped. "How can you be not in the mood to make friends?" she demanded.

He sighed wearily, but stopped walking. He leveled his gaze at her, and she nearly gasped. His eyes were piercing blue, and she felt like she could see nearly everything in them. Her lips parted slightly, and she saw his eyes drop slightly, before looking at her directly again. She shook herself out of her daze. She gave him a bright smile. "Let's try this again." She stuck out her hand toward him. "Lorelai Gilmore, massive disappointment."

He shook her hand, and Lorelai suppressed the urge to moan when his warm palm touched hers. His grip was firm and strong, just like she had anticipated, but surprisingly gentle. "Luke Danes," he said gruffly. "I don't think I'm a disappointment, but it's too soon to tell."

"Well, I'm not disappointed," Lorelai said, smiling up at him. There was a brief pause, and then he smiled too, and she felt her heart soar.

"Can I have my hand back?" he asked, squeezing hers still in his grasp.

Lorelai looked down. "I don't know, I kind of like holding your hand," she replied. But she let go of him anyway. He stuffed his hands back into his pockets. "So, what are you doing, walking along the beach all alone?" she asked.

"Thinking," he replied.

"Sounds serious," she said. She placed her hands on her hips, trying to subtly push out her chest so her breasts were on full display. She usually tried to be a little less obvious in her flirting, but something about Luke Danes told her that she needed to be a little more forceful.

"I guess," he replied, shrugging.

"So what are you thinking about?" she asked.

"Just decisions I need to make," he said, and he looked out over the water, seemingly drifting back into the thoughts that had been consuming him.

"Decisions about what?"

He turned back to her and narrowed his gaze. "Anyone ever tell you to mind your own business?" he asked pointedly.

"All the time," she said glibly. "Doesn't stop me." She waited, patiently, while he looked at her. She could almost see his internal struggle on whether or not to spill his guts.

"Just, stuff with life after high school," he said finally.

"Like, what college to go to?" she asked. She hadn't given much thought to that yet. She was only fifteen, she still had a few years before she really needed to worry about it. Other than being sorely tempted by any school on the West Coast, far away from her parents, she hadn't thought about it at all.

He looked at her carefully. "Like whether to go at all," he said.

"Oh." She hadn't expected that. "Is it a grades thing?" she asked hesitantly.

"My GPA isn't great, but no, that's not it." He looked down at his feet, and kicked at a small piece of driftwood that had been washed to shore.

"A…money thing?" she hedged. He nodded, still looking down. "Oh," she said quietly. Money problems were a bit of an abstraction to her. "Well, if it makes you feel better, lots of successful people didn't go to college," she said, hoping to see him smile again.

"Yeah?" he asked, looking up at her again. Those eyes, she thought to herself. She wanted to drown in them.

"Sure," she said. "Belinda Carlisle dropped out of beauty school and look where that got her."

He stared at her blankly for a minute, before tipping his head back and laughing. She felt tingles from his full-bellied laugh, suddenly feeling like she would do just about anything to hear it again.

"Hey, Lorelai!" she heard Trish calling for her. She turned back to see Trish standing next to her parents, their towels and beach things all picked up.

"I have to go," she said reluctantly.

"Okay," he said. She hoped the emotion she saw in his eyes was regret, and that he was just as sorry their interaction had been cut short.

Impulsively, she threw her arms around him. The feel of his arms tightening around her waist made her feel warm and gooey inside. Her hands twisted into the longish hair curled at the nape of his neck. "Meet me by the snack stand at midnight," she whispered into his ear, and his arms pulled her even closer before he let her go. "Okay?" she asked, hopeful. He nodded, and she beamed.

She clambered up the beach, her feet sliding around in the soft sand, not daring to turn and see if Luke was watching her walk away. Mr. and Mrs. Anderson appraised her carefully.

"Who was that boy?" Mrs. Anderson asked primly, her eyes still looking down the beach. Lorelai turned, but Luke had already begun walking away, his shoulders hunched forward and his hands back in his pockets.

Lorelai slid her feet into her flip flops. "Oh, he's a cousin," she said. "Kinda distantly related. Haven't seen him in awhile." Her eyes darted to Trish, who was bending down to pick up her bag in order to hide a smirk.

"Hrm," Mrs. Anderson harrumphed, but she didn't interrogate her further. The adults turned and began walking toward the resort, Trish and Lorelai trailing behind them.

All through dinner, Lorelai kept trying to hide her nervous energy, so as not to rouse the suspicions of her guardians for the weekend. The Andersons were cut from the same cloth as the Gilmores, which was likely why her parents had consented to her going on this trip to begin with. She settled in front of the small TV in their suite's common room with Trish, sharing a bowl of popcorn, pretending to focus on the movie they were watching when all she could do was count down the minutes until she could see Luke again.

Ten minutes before midnight, Lorelai tapped Trish on the forehead. "Whuh?" Trish muttered.

"I'll be right back," she whispered.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Trish murmured sleepily, rolling over to her other side. Lorelai giggled. That ruled pretty much nothing out.

She crept to the door, twisting the knob as slowly as possible, holding her breath as she anticipated a screech or squeak, but thankfully, the hinges were well-oiled. She should have expected nothing less in a resort this expensive. She tiptoed across the common room in between the two bedrooms of the suite, listening carefully for the snores of the Andersons. Mr. Anderson kept up a good roar with his wheezy snores, and it covered over the sound of the click in the latch as she opened the door.

Once the heavy suite door closed behind her with a soft click, Lorelai inhaled deeply. Then she took off in a run down the empty hallway, nearly diving down the curved staircase into the lobby. The night manager barely looked up from his post as she barreled out the door. She pulled her flip-flops off of her feet and raced down the beach toward the snack shop.

She had prayed that he would show up, and was relieved to see a shadow silhouetted against the light from the moon over the water.

"Hey," she said, slowing to a stop in front of him. She stopped to gather her breath.

"Hi," he said. He hadn't changed his clothes since the last time she'd seen him, although he was now capless, but she'd dressed in drawstring shorts and a camisole for bed. He seemed to be interested in her attire, since he kept sneaking glances down the length of her body.

"What?" she asked, after she'd resumed breathing normally.

"Were you sleeping?" he asked, smirking a little.

She looked down. "Oh, uh, pretending to be, yeah."

"So you wanted me to meet you?" he asked.

"Yeah, I thought maybe we could walk together," she said, shrugging.

"A midnight beach walk?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Doesn't that sound nice?" she asked.

He shook his head, as if in disbelief, then regarded her with amusement. "Sure," he said finally.

"So tell me more about your big decisions," she said, as they began walking toward the shoreline. She held her flip-flops in one hand and debated for a moment before reaching for him. He looked down, surprised, as she twined her fingers with his, but didn't pull his hand away.

"It's really not that big of a deal," he said. They reached the shoreline and began walking along it, the waves licking their toes. The water was cool, but Lorelai welcomed it as her body felt flushed being so close to him.

"Sometimes talking things through can help you figure it out for yourself," she said. She squeezed his hand. "Try it."

He sighed. "My dad owns a hardware store," he said.

"Okay," Lorelai replied, encouragingly.

"He didn't go to college and so he thinks that I shouldn't bother either. He wants me to help with the store, maybe be a business partner." He lifted his free hand to scratch the back of his neck.

"You don't sound excited about that prospect," Lorelai said.

"I'm not." He glanced over at her. His hair was just a little too long, the curls that had been tucked under the ball cap now loose over the tips of his ears. She normally preferred her boys a little more groomed, but there was something about Luke that made her want to curl up in his arms and purr like a cat. Hopefully followed by some heavy petting. She shivered slightly from the thought of being pressed up against him, and tried to focus on their conversation again.

"So then, tell him you want to go to college." Lorelai lifted her shoulder in a shrug. "You could get loans or something, right?"

"Yeah, but it's just me and Dad and my sister, and she's a lot of trouble." He sighed again, sounding like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. "I just don't want to make things harder than they have to be."

"It sounds like you've already decided," Lorelai pointed out.

"It feels like there's not really a decision at all," he said glumly.

She took in a deep breath. "I feel the same way," she admitted. He looked over at her. "Not about college. I mean, I'll be going, but I probably don't get much say as to where."

"What do you mean?" Luke asked.

It was her turn to sigh. "My father went to Yale, so it's likely I'll be going to Yale, too." She snorted. "Although, they'll want me to just get my MRS degree."

"MRS?" Luke asked, puzzled.

"Yeah, they want me to find a nice Yale boy and pop out a slew of perfect children, all the while looking socially acceptable and joining the DAR."

"I didn't understand most of that," Luke replied with a smirk.

"I live it, and I still don't understand it," she said. She tugged on his hand, pulling him closer. "So do you have a girlfriend?" she asked slyly.

"A girlfriend?" he replied. He held up their joined hands. "Do you think I'd be holding your hand if I did?"

"Aw, a monogamist," Lorelai said approvingly. "So few of you out there."

"What do you mean?" Luke asked, narrowing his eyes at her.

"Well, my last boyfriend," she said, pausing before snorting, "if you can even call him that. Anyway, Christopher, he didn't like to use 'labels'." She made air quotes with her shoe-laden hand. "We were dating for all of five minutes before he was kissing another girl."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," Luke said, and she looked up into his serious expression. Her heart melted a little.

"It's fine," she replied nonchalantly. "I got my revenge by going out with his best friend."

"And you're okay with that?" he asked.

"Not really, but the other option is to look weak and small, and Lorelai Gilmore is neither of those things." She stood a little taller as she said it, and flashed a grin over at him. He smiled back.

"So you and that other guy, you're over?"

"For now," Lorelai said flippantly. "If he grovels well enough, I might give him another chance."

"That makes no sense to me," Luke replied.

"It's how the game is played," Lorelai said, a touch of sadness in her voice. "Rich kids are all kill or be killed. It's a real hellhole."

"Sounds terrible," he said, and he squeezed her hand. She looked down at their intertwined fingers, and felt warmth despite the cool air. They'd walked quite far down the shoreline, nearly to the edge of the cove. There were some rocks lining the edge of the beach, including a large flat one, perfect for both of them to sit on.

Lorelai jumped up onto the rock, sliding herself backward until her legs were resting on it, too. He watched her with amusement. "Come on up," she said, patting the rock's surface beside her.

He hoisted himself up gracefully, pulling one leg up and resting his arm on it. Lorelai reached over to squeeze his bicep. "So, tell me," she said, smiling at him. "What sport do you play?"

"How do you know I play sports?" he asked, turning his head toward her.

"You look all buff and manly," she said. He chuckled. She ran her hand up and down his arm, feeling the firm muscles beneath the skin. "Your arms are the first thing I noticed."

"Yeah?" he replied, looking at her with interest.

"Oh yeah," she said, nodding enthusiastically. "These are some great arms." He flexed slightly and she jumped, before cooing over the taut strength.

"I play baseball," he said, ducking his head down toward her like it was a secret.

"I knew it," she replied, and when she looked up, their faces were mere inches apart. She could barely see his face in the pale light of the moon, but she could feel his breath on her face. She squeezed his bicep again, and let her head move incrementally closer.

She closed her eyes, pulling him closer by his arm, and when their lips met, it was bliss. The kiss started soft and exploratory, small pecks with closed lips, and then she opened her mouth, hoping he would take it from there. The feel of his warm, wet tongue inside her mouth, exploring her teeth and brushing against her own was enough to make her whimper. Her hand on his arm tightened, and she felt his other arm circle around her, his palm sliding up her back to cup the nape of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair. She slid into his lap, never breaking the kiss, which was beginning to rocket past the point of no return. She ground against him, feeling a satisfying hardness beneath her bottom, as he groaned into her mouth.

He pulled his mouth away from hers, gasping. "We need to stop," he panted.

Lorelai dug her hands into his shoulders. "Why?" she said, kissing down his slightly stubbled cheeks, writhing against his body, her need for friction almost unbearable.

"Before I can't," he choked out as she sucked on his earlobe.

"Don't want you to stop," she murmured into his ear. His hands slipped down to cover her ass, and she purred appreciatively. "Please touch me," she said, her voice nearly cracking from desire.

"Lorelai," he pleaded, "I don't want your first time to be on a rock."

She pulled back, and looked at him. His lips were swollen from kisses, his hair was mussed from her hands, and his eyes were a little dazed but he still wore a serious expression. "It's not my first time," she said.

"It's not?" he asked, surprised.

"Is that, are you…" she trailed off, looking intently into his eyes. "Do you think less of me now?" she asked, watching him carefully.

"Never," he replied, and she ran her index finger along his lips slowly. He looked sincere, but still uncertain. "I'm still not sure we should do this on a rock, in public," he said, but he didn't remove his hands from her body.

"I don't mind," Lorelai said, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, letting her forehead rest against his. "I want you," she whispered.

"I don't have anything," he whispered back. "I wasn't planning on having sex tonight."

She giggled, and began kissing her way up from the line of his jaw all the way back to his lips. Just before she reached his mouth again, she said quietly, "I'm on the pill." She let that hang in the air for a moment, and when she pressed her lips back to his, he returned the kiss hungrily. Their bodies moved against each other wantonly, leaving no space for anything between them.

Lorelai felt like her body was on fire as she arched her back, pressing her breasts into his hard chest. The boys she'd been with had always been clumsy and nervous, but Luke was older than they had been, and his body was more like a man's. She lifted to her knees, and pushed down the flimsy shorts, taking her panties along with it. She heard Luke's breath quicken, nearly panting like he'd run a marathon, as his hands went back to her now naked bottom. She placed her hands on his shoulders for balance as his finger swept under her, reaching between her slick folds. He moaned a little, feeling how sopping wet she was just from their kisses.

Tentatively, he pushed his finger inside, exploring. Lorelai's hands squeezed his shoulders as she groaned. She rocked herself on his finger a little, nearly out of her mind with desire. He pulled his hand away and pushed down his swim trunks, and paused. Lorelai looked down, and saw him staring at her nakedness in the semi-darkness, hesitating.

"Do you want me?" Lorelai asked, breathless.

Luke looked up to meet her eyes. "More than I want to breathe," he replied, and satisfied, Lorelai slid her knees apart, taking his cock all the way inside of her, inch by inch. For a moment they were still, the sound of harsh breathing the only thing puncturing the quiet of the night. Luke swallowed roughly, and Lorelai felt need swell up inside of her. She rocked back and forth against him, and he held her hips tightly in his hands. She bent forward and kissed him, and he jerked his hips upward, filling her even more.

"Oh god," she panted, rocking her hips faster, riding his hardness like a women possessed. At the edge of her awareness, she could feel her shins scraping against the gritty rock surface, but the pain was only a blip on her radar. She was oblivious to anything but the feel of his body against hers, his panting breaths in her ear, and the movements of their hips against each other. She'd never felt more alive.

He swore, and she felt him erupt inside of her. Lorelai reached down between them, circling her fingers around her swollen clit. She was so aroused, it was moments before she felt her own climax, and she clenched her inner muscles around him, making him moan. She slowed her movements, spent, resting her head against his chest. He hugged her closely to him, holding each other in silence as the waves crashed along the shore.

Lorelai stretched out along the bed, feeling deliciously sated still. Her body was sore, and the scratches on her shins were slightly embarrassing, but she didn't care. She hoped she'd see Luke again for another midnight rendezvous. Maybe even earlier. Early that morning, after untangling from each other and cleaning up as best as they could, he'd walked her back to the resort and kissed her again, and she'd bid him goodnight before dreamily returning to bed.

She pushed off the covers and padded into the common area. Trish was sitting at the small table, eating a bagel and drinking some coffee, flipping through a teen magazine. She looked up with a smirk. "Good morning, sleeping beauty," she said drolly.

"Morning," Lorelai said cheerily. She looked around. "Where are your parents?"

"They went down to have 'a word' with the resort manager," she said, rolling her eyes. "Something about the turn down service, or something. You know how parents are."

Lorelai groaned. "Ugh, do I ever." She went into the bathroom to brush her rat's nest of hair. She opened her toiletry case and grabbed her brush, but paused. Her little packet of pills was missing. She kept them right next to her hairbrush, and they were gone. "Shit!" she hissed, pawing through the bag. It was a small bag, and her pills were definitely missing. She looked through Trish's toiletry bag too, but there was no sign of them. She dashed back into the common room. "Trish!" she said urgently. "My birth control pills are gone."

Trish looked up from her bagel and magazine. "What?"

"My pills! They were in my toiletry bag last night but now they're gone!" Lorelai fell back against the wall. "I was with him last night," she groaned, covering her face with her hands.

"I bet my parents took them," Trish said. Lorelai's hands dropped from her face.

"Why the hell were they digging around in my bag?" Lorelai asked angrily.

Trish shrugged. "Who the hell knows? That's parents. Yours would have done the same."

Lorelai's body sagged against the wall again. "Probably."

"It was just one time, right?" Trish said. "What are the odds?"

Lorelai resisted the urge to scream in frustration, and went back into the bathroom. She brushed out her hair and returned to the bedroom to get dressed. She heard the Andersons coming back into the room. "Get your stuff, girls!" Mrs. Anderson called out, sounding pissed.

"What? Why, mom?" she heard Trish say. She threw on her beach cover-up and poked her head out the door. Trish's mother had already stormed into the other bedroom and began tossing things into her suitcase.

"I can't stay here another minute," she snapped, hurling items into her suitcase with surprising force. "Trying to scam me out of amenities. And the manager! Rude!"

"Obviously, he didn't have a clue who he was talking to, dear," Mr. Anderson said, trying to soothe his wife.

"You've got that right," she huffed. She wrenched the zipper around her bag. "I guarantee by the end of next week, he'll get the picture, loud and clear." Mrs. Anderson stopped abruptly, hands on her hips. "What did I say? Get moving, Patricia!"

Lorelai watched Trish roll her eyes, and trudge to the room the girls were sharing. She slipped inside and shut the door behind her. "Well, this sucks," Trish grumbled. "I was nearly done with my tan."

"Forget your tan," Lorelai said, feeling tears well up unexpectedly. "I won't get to see Luke again, and I probably won't even have a chance to say goodbye!"

"So what? There's lots of scruffy-looking boys in Hartford. Maybe you can seduce the gardener's son or something." Lorelai stuck out her tongue.

"You're jealous. You've never been with an older boy."

"What difference does it make?" Trish replied, unzipping her suitcase. "A boy is a boy. They all have a dick they don't know how to use."

"Oh, it matters," Lorelai replied, grabbing her own bag. She began taking her clothing off the closet hangers. She paused, remembering the feel of his firm muscles under her hands, what it felt like to have him inside her. She smiled a little, but the smile faded when she realized she would likely never see him again. And the fact that she wasn't going to be able to get any more pills for a few days. She had no idea what skipping a few days would do, but she couldn't confront the Andersons about it. At least if they were going home so soon, she could get more pills.

Lorelai returned to life in Hartford, feeling slightly melancholy about how her fun trip to Harvey's Beach had ended. Of course, her mother wasted no time signing her up for yet another debutante ball, and started taking measurements for her gown. She anxiously awaited the start of her period, and began to worry when it didn't show up. She chalked it up to stress. They'd only been together one time. She'd returned home and gotten in touch with her friend Sarah, the daughter of an ob/gyn, who always managed to provide their group with birth control pills. She'd only missed one day, and barely that. It couldn't be happening. She refused to consider it. It was just stress, that had to be it. She resolved to stop worrying about it.

A week after her period was scheduled to arrive, her mother knocked on her bedroom door.

"What?" she called out grumpily. She felt out of sorts and grouchy. She'd just polished off two chocolate bars that she'd hidden up in her room, but they must have been spoiled because her stomach felt crampy.

"Your dress is here, open the door so you can try it on."

Heaving a sigh, Lorelai pushed herself up, tossing a pillow on top of the empty wrappers. She opened the door and her mother swept inside, carrying a giant garment bag. She hooked it up over the closet rail and unzipped it. It nearly exploded with petticoats. Lorelai stifled a groan. "Get undressed," her mother commanded. "I'll be in to help zip it up." She left the room, and Lorelai looked at the dress, suddenly feeling exhausted.

But, as she'd been told, she stripped down to her underwear, and yanked the dress out of the bag. She pulled it on, and attempted to start the zipper herself. Something seemed off. She'd just been measured, but the neckline was all wrong. She jiggled herself a little. No, there was definitely something weird going on.

"How does it fit?" her mother called through the door.

"Um, I'm not sure," Lorelai called back. Her mother came in, and with one look her eyes widened.

"Are you wearing a push up bra?" her mother asked, coming around to the back of the dress.

"No," Lorelai replied. "They just got bigger. Overnight." Her mother yanked at the back of the dress, trying to pull the zipper up.

"Have you gained weight?" her mother asked peevishly.

"I don't think so," Lorelai said, starting to feel worried.

"Ugh," her mother cried, obviously irritated. "I'm signing you up with a personal trainer. And I guess we'll have to re-measure. No dessert for you tonight." She pulled the zipper back down, never having made it all the way closed. "Hang the dress back up and I'll return it." She clucked her tongue in annoyance. "I told your father that you were one sweet away from the fat farm." She stalked out of the bedroom, muttering all the way down the hall.

Lorelai stared at herself in the mirror. Now that she was looking, she could see her breasts were a lot less meager.

"Shit," she whispered to her reflection.