Ten Things I Hate About You , Jess Mariano

thirteen. baskets and breakups

        EVERY DAY SINCE their first date had been absolute bliss for Sicily Gilmore — it seemed that everything worth getting frustrated over vanished, leaving her in a blissful, rose-tinted-glasses-point-of-view state. Someone actually wanted her, cared for her — the whole idea of it seemed blasphemous at first thought.

Star's Hallow had been decorated for yet another event, the gazebo covered in signs and colorful paper. The whole "Bid on a Basket" event seemed totally sexist in her opinion — why do only the women get bid on? Are women just objects you can buy? Star's Hallow was stuck in its old fashioned ways, just the way Taylor liked it, and Sissy wanted no part in it.

      Unlike her, the eager crowd gathered around the gazebo where Taylor stood, clearly way too overjoyed by the fact that he gets to put on his auctioneer act on once again, as women clutched their decorated baskets and the men clutched their wallets. "I can't believe you're doing this," she poked Rory's shoulder, rolling her eyes at the beige basket lined with a blue checkered fabric at the top. "I think it's sweet," she muttered, earning an eye roll from the girl. "It's fucking sexist, and so perfectly Dean that it's disgusting."

"Dean's not sexist," Rory defended, the tone of her voice rising as she sheepishly dug into the ground with her foot. "Sure, and I'm Jack White!" Rory huffed, but wrapped her arm around Sissy's shoulder, the basket just inches away from her rosy cheeks, the cool Connecticut wind biting at her. "This whole thing is just dumb, Ror, and you shouldn't be letting fucking men auction you off when you aren't a) an object and b) anywhere near the price they'll pay for you."

"What've I missed?" The pair turn around to face Lorelai, her finger pointed at the two. "Just Sicily's lovely feminist manifesto," Rory joked, earning an eye roll from Sissy and a triumphant "ha!" from the oldest Gilmore girl. "That's my girl!"

         "See, Ms. Gilmore, one day you'll mature and realize you're worth more than this," Sissy jokingly chastised, adopting an accent that would rival Emily Gilmore's in an instant. "Says you!" Lorelai gave the pair an amused eye roll before Taylor's booming voice, mimicking what was probably a 1950s auctioneer, cut through them all.

         "Dear god, excuse me while I go projectile vomit," Sissy gagged, much to Rory's annoyance. "It's tradition!" She didn't have the time to launch into her next long-winded highly passionate rant, because Rory's basket was suddenly in Taylor's hands, waving in front of the large crowd.

        "Now this next one may not look like much," he advertised, the tone of his voice rising and falling. "How sweet," Sissy muttered as Lorelai's face wrinkled in disgust. "How badly does he want to be hosting a game show?" She quipped.

"Hm, he can taste it," Rory responded jokingly, before the trio turned their attention back to Taylor and his antics. "Let's start the bidding at three dollars!"

"Hey!" Rory protested, while Sicily simply rolled her eyes for the millionth time that day. "Five dollars." They turned to face Dean, the smuggest grin plastered on his face. God, I hate him, she thought, digging her boots into the ground. "Five dollars, do I hear ten dollars?"

"Ten." No. Please, no. The voice was one so familiar, so dear to her that maybe, just maybe, if she closed her eyes tight enough and counted to one million, it could've been someone else. "Okay, I have ten dollars. Do I have fifteen?"