Small town life, for the few months you’d been experiencing it, had been a pleasure. Groceries in paper bags, the familiarity and warmth carried in the curve of every smile, the general friendliness you’d been met with at every corner, even as an outsider. It had all seemed perfect, you’d had no complaints. The key word being had.

You’d found yourself walking behind one Rory Gilmore through the town square, privy to what sounded like an entirely snobby and narcissistic tirade clearly meant only for her friend Lane’s ears. Impulsively, you’d chimed in, and the pseudo-argument that ensued quickly became a public spectacle. After that, it seemed the warmth had been sapped from the town. As archaic as it sounded, you were being shunned — iced out of Luke’s Diner, unwelcome at town meetings. Doose’s market was not a reprieve from the town-wide cold shoulder you were getting.

“I’ve seen how they’re all acting. Don’t let it bother you. Ignoring it is easier said than done, but you’ll feel better if you do, trust me,” Dean muttered, glancing up at you briefly as he bagged the scarce groceries you’d bought. “You’re not the first pariah this town has had, and I’m pretty sure you won’t be the last. This town — they’re — I dunno, protective of Rory. I’m just saying, you’re not the only one in exile.”