𝓒𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓲𝓽 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚☕︎

The bedroom smelled like lavender and dry shampoo, and there were clothes everywhere.

Sienna Carson stood in front of her bed, holding up two nearly identical sweaters, both gray, both cashmere, both folded exactly the same, like she hadn't already made this decision three times.

She sighed, tossed one onto the bed, and turned toward the open suitcase lying at her feet.

From the doorway, Brooke leaned against the frame, arms crossed and watching with an amused grin. "You do know it's a spa trip, right? They give you robes. Plural. You probably don't need to bring your entire wardrobe."

Sienna let out a breath. "I know, I know. But it's Emily Gilmore. Her idea of 'casual' involves silk scarves and six-carat earrings. I panic-packed."

Brooke walked in and flopped down onto the corner of the mattress. "So, walk me through this again. Emily invites Lorelai to the spa for the weekend, but there's a third ticket?"

"Mm-hmm," Sienna said, tucking a toiletry bag into the corner of her suitcase.

"Apparently, the spa package came with three passes. Emily couldn't bear the thought of one going to waste—so naturally, she invited her favorite Stars Hollow friend who knows how to handle both Gilmores in close quarters."

Brooke smirked. "How are you gonna survive Emily and Lorelai Gilmore in the same room for 48 hours?"

Sienna arched a brow. "Sweetheart, I've been surviving them for years. I'll be fine."

She zipped the suitcase halfway closed, then turned toward her daughter. "Now. Let's talk about you. What are you going to do tonight? Throwing a party, I hope? Inviting hundreds of bikers and lowlifes who are gonna trash the place?"

Brooke gasped in mock offense. "I'm going to invite Rae and Lena over and have a sleepover. We're going to get Chinese food, drink too much soda, maybe do face masks, and fall asleep watching Legally Blonde."

Sienna squinted. "And then come the bikers and lowlifes who are gonna trash the place?"

"We may even fall asleep on the couch with the TV still on," Brooke said with a dramatic yawn.

Sienna sighed dreamily. "When do the bikers and lowlifes get to trash the place?"

Brooke rolled her eyes and stood. "You're all packed."

"Brooke, you have to do something bad when Mommy's out of town. It's the law." Sienna pointed her finger like a lawyer giving a closing statement. "You've seen Risky Business, right? Now, I'm not asking for a prostitution ring, but how about a floating craps game? A llama in the kitchen? Something."

"I'll see what I can do," Brooke said with a wink.

"I would greatly appreciate it."

Just then, a car horn sounded outside—two crisp, punctual beeps.

Brooke glanced out the front window and grinned. "I think Emily and Lorelai are here."

The Gilmore limousine gleamed in the late afternoon sun, parked neatly along the curb like it had just rolled off the showroom floor.

Standing beside it, Emily Gilmore herself was perfectly coiffed in a pale lilac blazer, holding a matching overnight bag in one hand and her phone in the other.

Lorelai stood beside her, oversized tote on one shoulder, sunglasses on, leaning into the limo door with a smirk that said she'd already survived one Emily monologue on the drive over.

Sienna and Brooke walked out the front door, Sienna wheeling her suitcase and Brooke trailing behind with a pillow tucked under her arm.

"Oh my," Emily exclaimed as soon as she saw Brooke. "Darling girl, look at you. Have you grown an inch since the last time I saw you? You look positively radiant. Elegant. And that hair—so polished. You're going to break hearts, I hope you know that."

Brooke flushed. "Thank you, Mrs. Gilmore."

"Oh, and manners, too. A rare commodity in your generation. I commend your mother."

"Thank you again," Brooke said with a small laugh. "And I didn't even do anything."

"She's saving it for when I leave town," Sienna added with a knowing glance.

Lorelai opened the limo door. "Ladies. Shall we spa?"

Sienna turned to Brooke, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead. "Don't forget to have fun, okay?"

"Don't worry. I've got Chinese food and Rae and Lena."

Emily nodded firmly. "And be sure to hydrate. Take care of your skin while you're young. Trust me."

"I will," Brooke said, smiling as she stepped back.

Lorelai leaned toward her. "Hydrate, eat noodles, and maybe start a blackjack table in the kitchen. You know. For balance."

With a wave, the three women climbed into the car. The door shut. The limo pulled away.

The house fell quiet the second the limo turned the corner.

Brooke shut the front door behind her, locked it, and leaned against it for half a second with a grin already tugging at her lips.

Then she took off.

Up the stairs, two at a time—her pillow tucked under her arm—straight into her room, where she launched herself onto the bed like she'd just won a gold medal in solo teenage freedom.

Her comforter crinkled under her, but she didn't care. She grabbed the cordless phone off her nightstand, the little antenna already halfway extended.

She pressed Rae's number by memory.

One ring. Two.

"Hello?" Rae answered, slightly breathless. There was a faint hum of music in the background—definitely Hilary Duff.

"It's on," Brooke said, flipping onto her back. "Sleepover is officially a go. The limo's gone. The spa moms have left the building."

Rae gasped like she'd been waiting all day for those exact words. "Stop. I'm lighting a candle."

"Hold on, I'm adding Lena." Rae's voice dropped like it was a mission.

A few beeps and clicks later—

"Hello?" came Lena's voice.

"It's me, Rae, and Brooke. Sleepover alert. Code pink," Rae said, serious as ever.

"It's happening?" Lena practically squealed. "I shaved my legs for this. Don't even joke."

Brooke laughed, sitting up. "Not joking. You two are coming over now. Bring pajamas, bring snacks, bring your whole face routine. I'm ordering Chinese."

"Yes," Lena cried.

"Brooke, you're a queen," Rae added. "Also, I'm wearing my baby blue set. The one with the strawberries on the pants."

"Love that for you," Brooke said, grabbing a basket from her dresser and chucking socks into it like a chaotic little tornado. "Lena?"

"I'm bringing the black ones. With the tiny moons."

"Perfect," Brooke said. "This is already the best night of the year."

"I'm bringing my lip gloss collection," Rae said, "and I'm wearing the glitter body spray. Like, a lot."

Brooke flopped dramatically onto her bed again. "If none of us smell like middle school dances and teen magazines, we're doing it wrong."

Lena giggled. "I'll bring the mini stereo so we can make a playlist. Old school."

"YES," Rae yelled. "I want to fall asleep to JoJo and wake up to Destiny's Child."

Brooke stood up and started pulling the throw blankets from her bed. "Okay. ETA ten minutes. I want knock-knock at the door, fuzzy slippers on the porch. I'll prep the couch."

"You doing the living room setup?" Rae asked.

"Already started," Brooke said, puffing up a pillow and tossing it onto the floor. "Sleeping bags, extra chips, and I might even pull out the 'Clueless' DVD if things get crazy."

Lena gave a dreamy sigh. "Sleepover heaven."

"Operation Girls' Night is in full effect," Brooke said proudly. "And no parents until tomorrow afternoon. So let's live."

"On our way!" Rae sang.

Brooke hung up the phone and grinned to herself, already moving like a storm through her room—pulling pajamas from drawers, dragging snacks out of her closet stash, and fluffing up every spare pillow she could find.

It was shaping up to be the perfect night.

And it hadn't even started yet.