This is yet another story from the lovely JarjarBlinx1 and I. Just like the last couple, it's already fully written so need to worry it'll get abandoned. The only thing preventing posting is how fast or slow I'm able to edit and get it online. Hope you guys enjoy.

Huge thank you to ginger11-on over on tumblr for letting use their beautiful artwork for the cover image. Go check the rest of their stuff out. It's great!

Was it physically possible to die of boredom? The lonely barista was starting to think it was very possible. The place was dead; really the whole campus was. It probably would have made more sense just to shut the place down for the day, but he couldn't really complain too much. He's essentially getting paid to just stand around. This time of year was one of the worst. All of the summer students had either left to go home or were enjoying their week break before classes started up again. There's only about twenty other students besides himself who actually stayed on campus during this time.

He looked over at the one customer sitting at a window table. "Hey, man! Do you mind if I change the music?" When he was answered with an impartial shrug, Jack plugged his phone into the speaker phone and turned on something more upbeat than elevator music.

A glance at the clock told him he still had another two hours before he could officially start closing up the shop. Since his only other coworker/manager had already left for the day, he felt safe enough to bring his tablet out. Jack opened up his latest creation, an insane optical illusion, and picked up his stylus.

"Excuse me," a deep British voice interrupted. "Shouldn't you be working rather than playing on your...thing?"

"I've cleaned every machine in here twice today and gone through my checklist twice. There is literally nothing for me to do except make drinks when someone comes in." Jack shrugged and moved over to the register. "Speaking of...what can I get you?"

"A cappuccino with almond milk." Golden eyes watched the barista indifferently. "You really shouldn't tell customers your life story. We really don't care."

Jack bit his tongue at the comment, eyes narrowing a little. "We're all out of almond milk. Would cashew be alright?"

"If I wanted cashew, I would have asked for it." The man sighed. "I'll just have a tea then. Chamomile, or are you out of that too?"

"No, we aren't out of it. Our new order isn't supposed to be in for another few days. We don't expect many customers during this time of year and don't stock up as much." He punched in the numbers on the register. "That'll be $2.75. And can I get a name for the cup?"

"Pitch." He pulled out a crisp fifty dollar bill from his wallet and handed it to Jack.

Seriously? Who casually carries a fifty and just whips out for a cup of tea? He raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything, silently handing the man his change before turning to start his drink. He purposely wrote the name "Rich" on the cup to see if it'd piss the guy off. Jack handed over the drink with a smile plastered on his face. "Have a great day."

Pitch looked down at the cup, and his jaw stiffened. "Thanks. Remind me to tell your manager about the great customer service here."

"Is there something wrong?"

"Nothing at all." Pitch purposely took a sip, holding the cup so that the wrong name faced the barista.

"Isn't that your name? I thought that's what you said."

"It's Pitch, but anyone can make a mistake."

"Then I apologize for that. Next time I won't mess up. And hopefully we'll have almond milk back in stock!"

"Hopefully." Pitch turned on his heel, the door to the cafe slamming behind him.

Jack stuck his tongue out at his back, mumbling under his breath, "Pompous ass." He didn't let it bother him too much. The rise he'd gotten out of the man had given him a little sense of empowerment. Jack made quick work of cleaning anything he'd used and went back to his drawing.

"Hey, Jack!" Toothiana Fairina, Tooth for short, plopped herself down on one of the stools near the register. "Busy day today."

"Packed, obviously. Haven't had a moment to breathe." Jack smiled over at her. "Can I get you anything?"

"My usual." Tooth leaned forward with a smile. "There's apparently a new guy on campus. He transferred from some fancy university in Europe or something."

"Oh, really? And what makes him so special as to earn your gossip?" Jack whipped up Tooth's usual, a highly over-caffeinated mutant drink. "Don't we have lots of transfers here?"

"Yeah, but this guy is crazy rich and crazy handsome. He's already been asked out by all the girls in my European history class and the two o'clock Baroque Art class!"

"So he's hot. I don't see why girls always fuss over every hot guy that comes into town."

"It's not just that he's hot. He's apparently quite charming and really very nice! This girl tripped in the dining hall and spilled Powerade all over her dress. He gave her his coat to cover up with until she could get back to her room and change!"

"He sounds like a perfect gentleman," Jack chortled and handed her the drink. "Maybe he turned everyone down because he's gay. Maybe I stand a chance with him!"

"Maybe. You are one of the cutest boys we have in this school, and you would match him perfectly! He's really tall, has the blackest hair and these luscious gold eyes! Gold eyes, can you believe it! And they're real!"

Jack's face fell as realization dawned on him. "That guy? He was in here just before you."

"You've met him?! What was he like? Tell me everything!"

"He's a total ass." He turned back to clean up the mess he'd made. "I guess his gentlemanly side is only reserved for girls. Probably not gay at all."

"Oh no, you wrote the wrong name, didn't you?"

"It was a joke! Besides that, he was chewing me out for my customer service and saying wants to tell my manager how shitty it was."

"You can give pretty shitty service," Tooth teased, taking a sip of her drink. "Why did you have to be so mean to him? He's probably nervous since he's new!"

"I wasn't mean to him! This time…" He tossed a stale croissant at his friend's head. "You're just mad that your dreamy boyfriend wasn't happy."

"He isn't my dreamy boyfriend! He's actually going to tutor me in Orgo. He apparently got an A in it at his other school. I told him how bad I was doing, and he offered to help."

"So he's your dreamy chemistry tutor instead."

"He's nice, Jack. He really is. Maybe he can help you with cooking this semester!"

"Hey! I'm an alright cook. I survive here, don't I?"

"You failed a course that's famous for being an easy A."

"I didn't fail; I withdrew. This semester is going to be different. I read up a lot over summer. I think I can do a lot better this time."

"Sure. You set the dorm kitchen on fire when you tried boiling water. That was two days ago."

"Two days ago I had a migraine. If I wasn't so miserable it would have been fine."

"What about the exploding eggs? Or the green mashed potatoes? Oh, and let's not forget the blue soup."

"Do you seriously have to bring up every mistake I've ever made in cooking?" Jack moved back to his tablet. "The guy was an ass, and I'm not going to ask him for help. I will find a way to pass the class this year."

"Okay, okay! Don't talk to him, but he's seriously cool. Just saying."

"Not to me apparently," he grumbled. "I'm not saying I won't give the guy a chance to change, but you didn't see him earlier."

"Text me if he comes in again!"

"He'd probably be gone by the time you get here."

"I'm a fast runner."

"Alright. I'll text you next time. If my horrible customer service didn't drive him away forever, that is." Jack grinned.

"You're cute. He'll come just for the eye candy."

"Oh, is that why I have a job still? Clearly it isn't for my kitchen skills."

"You know what I mean, ass."

"I thought we discussed that he isn't even gay."

"He probably will only be Jack-sexual."

Jack snorted. "Is that what we're calling it now? I get one straight gay to fall in love with me and now I have a whole sexual preference named after me?"

"He's going to like you."

"I doubt it. Don't get your hopes up, Tooth."

"Fine, but I want an invitation when you guys get married."

"Whatever you say." Jack held up his tablet to her. "What do you think so far? I still need to add some color depth and shadows but what about the basic look?"

"Love it, as always! Are you going to submit it to the art magazine?"

Jack shrugged his shoulders, looking at more scrutinizingly. "I'm not sure yet."

"You should! You're way too good to not show it off!"

"I'll have to see how it looks when I'm all finished.."

"You should show it to your new boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend. He wouldn't care for it anyway. He saw me working on it and acted like it was a nuisance."

"I'm sure you could charm him. You charmed Aster, and he's a real asshole a lot of the time." Tooth looked down at her phone and smiled. "Oooh, Pitch is texting me about you already."

"You're such a liar. The guy doesn't even know my name."

"Have you ever been to The Bean Counter? Yes, I have. Have you ever seen a boy with white hair?" Tooth smiled. "His name is Jack. And...send."

"You're annoying. Don't make me charge you for that drink."

"Oh shush. You're just mad that your name trick didn't work."

"I'm upset that you're so insistent on hooking me up with some guy whose only words to me were rude. Drop it please."

"Fine, subject officially dropped. I won't mention him again."

"Thank you."

"Can you leave yet? I want you to carry my bag while I walk to class."

"Sorry, lazy. I still have another hour before I can close up."

"Another hour? But there's no one here."

"That's the rule." He shrugged. "If I get caught closing early, I get fired."

"Who's gonna catch you?"

"True. I can't, though. You know me, Tooth. Too honest and all that joy. I'll have to catch up with you after your class."

"Okay. See you later, alligator!"

Jack waved wistfully, watching his best friend leave. The last hour ground by at an excruciating pace. He had a whole one more customer come in before he closed. Since he'd been cleaning everything as he went, closing procedures went by in a jiff. He was finished and out the door five minutes after closing. He carried his loot for the day: the muffins and croissants the store had to toss at the end of the day but his manager always allowed him to take home instead. Joyous was the life of a starving college student. Stale pastries and top ramen for dinner tonight. After his stomach let out a loud grumble, he dug out one of those very pastries and started munching on his way to the dorms.

The man was a little out of breath by the time he reached his floor. Between his lack of food and climbing five flights of stairs every day because the elevator was broken more often than not, there was a reason he was so skinny.

"Oh, it's you," a British voice called out. "Do you live here too?"

"Do you have a problem with that?" Jack turned to the owner of the voice, a half of a croissant hanging from his mouth as he dug for his keys.

"Not at all. It's a free country."

"Glad to hear it, neighbor. Did you just move in here?"

"I did. I moved in this past weekend. Is that your door?" Pitch pointed to the door directly across from his own.

"Yeah. My roommate isn't moving in until the last day before classes start."

"So when you were being incredibly noisy and having a party over the weekend, it was with yourself?"

"No. A friend was over for a game night celebration of the almost end of summer finals. She gets a little loud when she drinks," he laughed.

"Well, I do ask that during the school year you keep your visits with your girlfriend to a minimum. Some of us do need quiet to study."

"First off, she is not my girlfriend. Way to be the assuming type. And second, I'm too busy keeping up with my busy workload during the year to party. That's why I like to have fun on breaks when I can."

"Some of us don't get breaks. Maybe you do, but those of us maintaining a 4.0 need all the time we can get."

"Wow. I'm just gonna go ahead with my own measly 4.0 into my room and enjoy myself on my own." Jack unlocked his door. "Have fun in your room, Mr. Judgy Pants."

"I shall, Mr. Nitwit."

Jack let the door slam behind him and tossed his bag on his bed with a huff. "Jerk."

From across the hall, the sound of a violin being beautifully played filtered into Jack's room. The song was unfamiliar but was full of minor notes of sadness.

Of course he can play an instrument. Jack's eyes rolled before he turned on his stereo to drown out the music. He settled onto his bed with his tablet to work on his piece some more. This was going to be an interesting year, for sure.

"Mr. Pitchner, thank you for joining us at last." Mr. Cookson, ironically the professor of Culinary Arts, called out to the tall figure trying to sneak in from the back. "You can be partners with Mr. Frost. His last one's in the hospital still, so good luck."

Jack groaned and let his head fall onto the countertop. "It wasn't my fault that time!"

"Whatever, Frost. Try not to give this one third-degree burns."

"Way to have faith in your students, Mr. Cookson." He cleared his stuff off the seat next to him so his new partner could sit.

Pitch sat down next to Jack. "Not only do we live across the hall, but we also have class together. Fascinating."

"Lucky us. We just can't seem to get rid of each other."

"You do know how to cook, right?" Pitch whispered.

"Do you think the professor would be cracking jokes about kitchen injuries if I was any good?" He shot Pitch a flat look.

"Oh God, I'm partnered with a moron." Pitch pushed Jack's hands away from the cooking utensils. "When I ask for something, hand it to me. Got it?"

"There's no need to be so rude about it." Jack scoffed at the idea. "Hell no. I'm not going to just sit back all semester and have you do all the work. I'm here to learn too. I know I suck, but I want to get better."

"Do you know how to sauté? Cube? Flambé?"

"That means cooking it right?"

"How are you even passing this course?"

"I had to withdraw at the last second last semester. I have to pass it this time."

"You're failing it already, aren't you?"

"It's the first day. I can't possibly be failing already." Jack stuck his tongue out at him.

Pitch froze. "You're such a brat."

"And you're a jerk who likes to rub my flaws in my face. I'm just thrilled we're partners for the semester." He pasted a fake smile on his face.

"Okay, Emeril. You cook, I'll watch."

Jack sighed but started picking up what he'd need for the dish of the day: omelette. It went wrong quickly. He knew he should have been embarrassed but was long used to being a horrific chef.

"Alright, back away before you set fire to something." Pitch dumped the shriveled mass of charcoal from the frying pan and started over. With one hand he cracked the eggs into a bowl, the other hand pointing out to Jack what he needed.

"How does everyone make this look so damn easy?!"

"Because it is easy."

"Obviously not for me." He sat back on his stool, arms crossing over his chest.

"I could tutor you if you want."

"You hate me. Why on earth would you want to tutor me?"

"I'd like to not have to worry about my life while being your partner, thank you."

"I only accidentally hurt one person. Usually it's myself I'm injuring."

"And there you go. What good does it do me if my partner has to miss class because of an injury?" Pitch shook his head, pouring the egg mix into the frying pan. "So do you want the tutoring or not?"

"I'll take it. I'm tired of feeling stupid in this class. Plus it'd be nice to shut Mr. Cookson up."

"Great. I'm out of class for the day at seven. Come to my place, and we can start."

"I'm out at eight. Is that okay?"

"I'll have to take time out of studying for an exam, but sure."

"All I can offer in return is free coffee for as long as you tutor me."

"And after I'll have to pay double?"

"No. I don't lie, and I take my debts seriously. If there's anything else I can do to pay you just let me know."

"Coffee's fine. It's not like I need the money, and I doubt you could help me with my exams."

"You never know. Maybe I'll surprise you." Jack took the dirty dishes and started washing them. "And I'll do the dishes for the whole semester too."

"That sounds safe." Pitch finished cooking the omelette, sliding it onto a plate. "I'm bored. You want me to make you something?"

"That's okay. You don't have to do that."

"Then I'm gonna go." Pitch slung his bag over his shoulder. "If Cookson asks, you made that."

"He'll never believe it."

"Hey, that's his problem. Ciao." Pitch snuck from the room, taking advantage of Mr. Cookson's distraction by another student.

Jack snuck a quick bite of the omelette and almost moaned at the taste. It had been so long since he'd had anything other than his work leftovers and top ramen he'd almost forgotten how good real cooking was. Damn, the guy was a good cook.

"Frost, where's Pitchner?"

"Restroom?"

"Okay. He cook that?"

"I did."

"Yeah, sure."

Jack couldn't keep a straight face. "I told him you wouldn't believe it." He pointed to the charred chunks in the trash. "That's mine."

"You do fail the lesson, you know that."

"I should be used to it by now," he sighed.

"Clean up this mess and get out of here before you hurt someone."

"Yes, sir." Jack cleaned up the rest of their station after finishing off the omelette. He grabbed his messenger bag and headed off to the campus coffee shop. He was pleased to see the place much busier with school back in session. Jack didn't do bored well, thriving instead in the chaos of a busy coffee shop.

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