Summary: Desperate for a quiet space one day, she stumbled into the coffee shop, not knowing…

Author's Notes: OK, this was based off of "Taylor, the Latte Boy" by Kristin Chenoweth. I added a little darker side, and I hope you like it! Oh, and Brittany Cramer is not Starfire. Just a girl from school I hate.

Enjoy!

It was a cold, rainy day – the kind that made you want to roll over and ignore your alarm when it went off at seven AM. It was the kind of day that made you shiver just by looking out the window. Unfortunately, today was one of those days, and those were the only thoughts going through Rachel's head as she peered out the window from the comfort of her college dorm room bed. Shuddering involuntarily, she rubbed her hands together and pulled on a bathrobe over her navy blue T-shirt and pajama pants. Her roommate, Brittany, was still fast asleep, thank God. She had to be the most annoying person to share a room with in the history of histories…

Brittany Cramer, the spoiled senator's daughter from Texas, had been selected out of 150 other girls to be Rachel's roommate…of course. The two couldn't be bigger opposites. While Rachel enjoyed deep conversations, poetry, scented candles, moonlight, and anything out of the ordinary, Brittany enjoyed pink, boys, designer clothes, shopping, and more boys. Honestly, Rachel didn't know why she hadn't reported directly to the housing office on the first day.

Entering the bathroom, she sighed. Of course, it was covered in all sorts of beauty products. All pink, naturally. There was a cabinet, however, that Rachel had claimed for herself. It held three towels, a toothbrush and toothpaste, a brush, some elastics, and a few other things. No make-up or anything. She didn't believe in such things. She turned on the water, undressed, and climbed into the shower. Her short, dark hair instantly was soaked, and she scrubbed it and thought.

It had been a good year so far at Dartmouth College. She had great professors, and had really been enjoying her novels class with Professor Devin Kateb. In fact, she had a giant paper due in his class day after tomorrow on James Joyce. She already had forty pages typed up, and just needed ten more. As she pondered over ideas for an ending, her thoughts began to wander far off from her term paper. Overall, she decided that since she had come to college, life had become considerably better from before.

Her father, Tyrell Roth, was a retired general and now, an executive at some big-shot corporate company. To be frank, Rachel didn't like him at all, and it was obvious that the emotions were shared equally the other way. Ever since she was young…since…it happened, he had sent her off to boarding school for most of the year. When she did return home, General Roth happened to be busy with the government or tangled up in business issues. Rachel didn't have a mother or any siblings now, but she didn't want to think of that…

Stepping out of the shower, she dried herself off and tread back into the cold dorm room. Thankfully, Brittany still remained unmoved, slumped in her bed in the exact same position. Chuckling slightly to herself, Rachel dressed herself in a pair or ripped jeans and a dark blue sweater. She didn't feel like putting herself together at all – the student population was very understanding about that sort of thing. Gathering her things, she grabbed her room key and headed downstairs to the eating hall to grab something to eat before going to Philosophy class in Thornton Hall. As she walked, she passed dorm room 745 – a room she never wanted to see again. It belonged to her old boyfriend, Malcom. He was such a jerk. To think that she had actually dated him…it made her shudder. She didn't really like to think about it, as he hadn't been…the best of a boyfriend choice.

After a quick pastry and orange juice, Rachel found herself outside of Thornton, and stepped inside from the rain. Thankfully, it was only drizzling outside, so she wasn't very wet. Her classroom was up the stairs and to the far right, and she didn't meet many others on the way up. It was eight AM, after all. Most of campus was asleep, and wouldn't wake up for several hours when their classes started. Her professor, Sophia Cassie, was setting up in the area-seating style, and jumped slightly when she saw Rachel enter.

"Well, miss Roth. I wasn't expecting students for another minute, but why don't you take a seat?" Rachel smiled and sat down, pulling her textbooks from her shoulder-slung bag. Within two minutes or so, students began to enter slowly. It was a relatively small class – only about ten students or so. She didn't really know many others, but still ended up getting in philosophical discussions almost every class with them.

The boy who sat next to her was Warren Cummings, a very annoying student who was constantly hitting on her. Rachel was quite tempted to punch him more than once a day. As he took a seat and deliberately scooted closer, she rolled her eyes and took out paper for notes. She chanced a glance at the irritating nuisance that she had to sit by, and he instantly wiggled his eyebrows and flicked his brown locks out of his eyes.

"So, Rae – there's a party going on at FEUL in a tonight. So, are you going with me, myself, or I?"

"It's Rachel. Honestly, Warren. Could you possibly have a bigger ego?" Even if she had wanted to go, it would never be with him. She hated all the dance clubs – the pounding music and flashing lights did nothing for her except create headaches.

"Big ego? What are you talking about, Rae? I only have your best interests at heart."

"Best interests as in telling me who I should go to a dance club with?"

"I only asked because I know that you know you want me."

"Whatever your reasoning, you still have no idea what you're talking about. And my name is Rachel. If I have no reason to speak to you, then I would advise you to keep your mouth shut. Besides, Professor Cassie is about to start." Rachel turned back to her notebook as the professor began to write on the chalkboard. Warren looked so stunned that he actually allowed her to scoot away back into her own personal bubble. The rest of the class continued relatively smoothly, save one time when Warren made the mistake of draping his arm around Rachel's shoulders. She stomped on his foot so hard that an hour later, he limped out.

Class ended at ten o'clock, and by that time, it was pouring outside. Groaning, she slipped the bag over her neck as it hung on her shoulders and pulled the navy sweater tightly around her. When she exited, she saw a group of guys – they looked like Sophomores – in shorts and T-shirts, headed out to Memorial Field for a game of rain football. They were totally crazy. They would get covered in mud and completely soaked. Perhaps pneumonia fit into the equation as well. As the guys disappeared, Rachel headed towards the library to do more research on James Joyce. Her laptop, as always, was in her bag, and she set it up on a table near the classic literature section.

Pulling her paper up, she stared at her last words. She stared and stared and stared…what was next? A voice from behind made her give a start, but she quickly whirled around to see her very good friend, Kori. She had attended a high school near to her own, and the two had known each other since elementary school. Kori had immigrated from Germany at the age of nine, and had never learned English 100 properly. Despite this, she, unlike Rachel, enjoyed her roommate, Karen Beecher. The three of them were now known as an invincible trio, as they went everywhere together.

"Hello, friend Rachel! How is your paper of the term coming?"

"I've got ten more pages to do, and it's due day after tomorrow. I would say that it's…coming."

"You must make with the haste, as we have decided to have a 'girl's night out' tonight."

"Unfortunately, Kori, not all of us can write a fifty page term paper in two days and have it fully edited. I hate to disappoint you and Karen, I really do, but I have tons of work to do and only so much time."

"I understand. If you need any assistance, I would be more than willing to comply. Perhaps I could fetch you some tea from the Sanborn Hall at four in the afternoon. Or I could get you a refreshing snack from the Collis Center. That would be most enjoyable, yes?"

"Actually, Kori, all I need is a quiet place to think."

"Oh. In that case, I shall vacate immediately and give you 'the space'."

Kori quickly left, as she had learned long ago that you should not bother Rachel when she was trying to concentrate. Now alone, she once again stared at the computer screen, trying to find the words she needed. A group of juniors entered, loudly debating something about Physics, a topic beyond Rachel's understanding. Murmuring to herself, she shut (slammed, rather) the laptop with frustration. Everyone was being too loud and she had a paper due in two days. Didn't anyone understand that? Placing the computer in her shoulder bag, she trampled down the stairs. Despite her anger, she managed to yawn. She must be very tired. Thinking back, she had only eaten a pastry and orange juice today, and it was nearing 11 o'clock. Rachel was beginning to regret turning down Kori's offer for tea.

Outside, the rain had not given in, by far. The rain was just as heavy, and it didn't look like it would be over soon. One boy was sitting outside in the middle of a lawn with his guitar singing "Will I" from RENT. He was completely soaked, and didn't seem to care. Walking past him, she noticed a sign around his neck. It read: "Please help! All proceeds go towards Foundation for AIDS." Smiling, Rachel pulled a five-dollar bill from her wallet and deposited in the cup sitting at his feet. The boy stopped playing for a moment to thank her, and kept on playing.

Continuing on down through campus, she thought of quiet places she could go that would guarantee her a few hours of silence. To be honest, she couldn't think of a single one besides a few remote bathrooms. Perhaps in the town. There, she might be able to find a quiet place to get something done. Those who lived in this college town knew how much they were willing to comply with students' needs. Reaching the edge of campus, she passed through and headed down the streets. Although she had poked through most of Hanover, she knew quite well that there were secret places still waiting to be discovered.

Rachel drew the sweater tightly around her small body – it was getting chilly outside. A diner would do no good, and neither would a book store. College students were everywhere. Please, she thought, Let me find some place quiet…concealed. As if it seemed possible, the rain began to pour harder, and she seemingly gave up trying to stay dry. She was soaked to the bone already. For some reason, her feet carried her down an alley, as though they were being called. They ended up in front of a wooden sign that was blowing slightly in the wind.

Indigo Midnight Café. Huh. It already looked good just by the name. Pulling herself together, she headed inside, pushing the front door open. It was a cozy place – only a few tables and chairs. There were two sofas and a recliner, all of which looked very comfortable. Rachel went over to one and sat down, pulling her laptop out. No other students were there, so she figured that this was as good of a place as she would get. The room was dimly lit by stringed lights that were twisted around the support beams, and the only other light streamed in through the windows. Paintings of various sorts lined the walls, and against the far side of the room, a counter sat with baked goods underneath. In the very center, a small raised platform with a microphone stand and stool sat, as though waiting for someone to come perform.

There was a noise from behind the counter, and Rachel headed over cautiously to see its source. She found a bent-over figure rummaging through a cabinet. The person whispered, "Dammit. Where is it?" and she couldn't help but chuckling. From the tone of the voice, it was a guy, and he was very frustrated. The guy stood upright at once at the sound of the laugh. "Wha…who…oh, hi." He was a reasonably tall guy, and wore an apron with the café's name on it.

"Hello."

"You are the first customer I've had all afternoon, you know that?"

"Really? It surprises me that no one has come – this place is really nice, you know."

"Thanks. Yeah. I actually found out about this place on my third day here, and I've loved it ever since. I guess since it's in a dark alley, most students don't think to look back here."

"I guess not." Rachel stared down at her fingertips as they rested on the counter. She wasn't much of a 'people person', but still…for some odd reason, she couldn't look him in the eye.

"Well,..yeah. I'm supposed to do the formal introduction, so here goes." The boy put on a fake grin and leaned forward at the counter. "Good afternoon, miss. I'm Gar Logan. How may I help you?" He flashed a thumb's up and reached out a hand for her to shake. Rachel couldn't help but chuckling a little bit. "It's nice to see someone appreciate my sense of humor. My quad…they all think I'm some sort of a loser or something. And because of my green hair, I'm a poser, too."

"I'm sorry. I think you're funny. Who do you room with?"

"Andy, Phil, and Malcom." Rachel's eyes grew wide at the mention of the last name, and she gripped the edge of the counter tightly. Noticing this, Gar looked concerned at her sudden reaction. "Hey, are you all right?"

"Yeah. I just…know Malcom Narrel."

"Oh? I take it your experience with him wasn't exactly 'good'."

"To put it nicely, yes."

"Sorry."

"Don't be. It was my mistake to make anyway."

"So what brings you to this fine café on this gorgeous day, madame?"

"To make a long and aggravating story short, I needed a quiet place to finish my term paper, and this place looked good. Baker library was too loud."

"Yeah. For a library, it is loud."

"So are you a student at Dartmouth?"

"Just a tiny freshman, I'm afraid. I work here on the side to help with tuition."

"Seriously? You're a freshman? I thought you were a junior. After all, I'm a freshman, too."

"Cool. You want anything while you work? Coffee? Hot chocolate?"

"Do you have herbal tea?"

"No, unfortunately. My boss thinks that tea is too fancy for a place like this. Do you want anything else instead?"

No herbal tea? What else could she order? A couple months ago in the dead of winter, Kori had dragged her to go shopping at the nearest mall. Later, she dragged her into a Starbucks, where she had happily ordered her a latte. If she remembered correctly, it hadn't been that bad.

"I'll take a regular latte, please. I am in need of caffeine if I want to type the last ten pages on James Joyce for Professor Kateb."

"Devin Kateb? You have him?" he asked, taking a coffee cup, "Man, I've heard he's tough."

"He is, but I'm enjoying the challenge."

"Enjoying the challenge, huh? I can appreciate that in a person. My friends think I'm some goofy guy who always jokes around, but I never keep my eyes off of the goal. I'm always focused." Gar smiled at Rachel from the latte machine just as foam began overflowing in the cup. Surprised, he dropped the cup and it exploded all over the floor. "Well…almost always focused. Which class of Kateb's are you taking?"

"Novels."

"Really? I'd never survive."

"I'm actually thinking of majoring in English, despite my father's wishes."

"Huh. What does he want you to major in?"

"Business. Law. Something to that effect. Something, dare I say it, conventional."

"I can understand your plea for a rebellion."

"What about you?"

"My parents want me to be a physician in a nice medical practice, but not me. Veterinarian, definitely." Gar finished cleaning up the mess on the floor, glancing upward constantly, before pulling out a new cup for her. As he turned around, she saw that the roots of his hair were blonde, but he had spiked it and turned it green.

"I like your hair. It suits you."

"Tell that to my mother."

Rachel smiled and gently grasped the coffee cup he gave her. "How much do I owe…?"

"It's on the house. What's your name?"

"Rachel. Rachel Roth."

"Rachel," he breathed, "Roth, huh? Related to the guy who started Roth Jewish Center?"

"No. The other famous Roth."

"Do you mean four star General Tyrell Roth, CEO of Rothcorp?"

"The one and only." Rachel got tired of this story.

"Seriously? How?"

"He's my dad. If you could call him that." Rachel took a seat on the sofa and turned to her laptop. Gar ducked from behind the counter and sat beside her, as there was absolutely nothing else for him to do. They sat in silence for a moment as Rachel logged on to her computer and let it boot up. Finally, Gar turned to her and looked her in the eye.

"Rough childhood?"

Wow. How had the conversation come to that of all things? She had never spilled her soul to anyone, let alone a random guy she just met in a coffee shop. Still…he didn't seem like the type to laugh or tell anyone else.

"Yes."

"What happened?" he asked concernedly.

"Um…I'd rather not talk about it. Only three people on this Earth knew exactly what happened. My dad and my best friend know now."

"I thought you said three people knew?"

"Notice the past tense. My mom knew, but she died when I was seven."

"I'm so sorry. I didn't realize. I'm sorry for asking."

"It's fine…that was 11 years ago."

"Yeah, I guess. But things from the past tend to catch up to you. I would know…"

"Why?" Gar looked at Rachel, a sad expression in his eyes.

"I won't ask. I'm sorry."

"No. It's no secret. My parents died in a boating accident off the coast of Africa when I was five. I was adopted after six years of shifting from home to home. The longest six years of my life…still. Now I'm fine. Two great people, Steve and Rita – they adopted me. They were friends of my parents' and they tell me that they raised me a way that my parents would be proud. The thing is, though, I'll never know if they're right. I can't remember my parents…at all."

"Wow."

"That as bad as your story?"

"I hate to be selfish and brutally honest, but no. It comes relatively close, but it takes a lot to top my story."

Noticing that the conversation was getting a little awkward, Gar got up. "I bet you'll want to get working on your paper, though." Rachel nodded and turned to her laptop as he left. Thinking for several minutes, she had a sudden inspiration and began typing away. All thoughts except her paper seemed to have left her mind. All thoughts except for Gar's story…it nagged at the back of her mind the whole time. After about three hours, she happily typed the last period and saved. Now she just had to edit…ugh. Leaning back into her chair in relief, she sighed. Gar, who had been stacking and unstacking coffee cups the whole time, looked up to see her close the laptop.

"Done, huh?"

"Yes. Now I just need to edit it. Hooray." Rachel lifted her finger and twirled it around in a sarcastic way.

"When's it due?"

"In two days."

Gar peered down at his toes and rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet for a moment. "Good…'cause I was wondering. Are you doing anything tonight? There's a party at FEUL, and I thought maybe…"

"Parties aren't exactly my thing."

"Oh. Well could we-"

"But I will make an exception for you. I can't wait." The sides of her mouth twitched and she packed up her laptop. As she headed for the door, Gar called after her. He seemed to have just caught on to the fact that she had said yes.

"Wait! I'll pick you up at eight in your dorm. What's your room number?"

"Dorm 632 in Dartmouth Row."

"Great. See you then, OK?"

"Deal."

Smiling to herself, Rachel exited Indigo Midnight Café. The rain was still pouring. Spectacular. Gar Logan, huh? He was a nice guy. Not to mention, he made a decent latte. Tonight would be interesting…

Another fic from me, I know, I know... I picked Dartmouth College for two reasons: I've been there (one of the few campuses i've visited) and it just seemed to fit, you know? I'm going to have fun with this fic and hope for tons of reviews, because I would LOVE that.

I luv you all (but only if you review!)

peace 'n luv, GUCIGIRL