This is an alternate ending to Asian Population Studies in Annie's point of view. Enjoy:
She sat there, stunned, staring at the screen of her cell phone. A desire to burst into tears put a sharp, distinct pressure on the back of her eyes.
"What happened?" Abed was suddenly there, at her side.
"Guhh." She gasped, jumping ungraciously. "Oh, Abed, hi. Everything's fine."
"Then why are you leaving?" He cocked his head to the side, staring intently at her as she tried to subtly back toward the door.
"I was just…you know…crap." He continued staring. "I asked Rich out for coffee, explicitly mentioning the word 'date,' and he might have rejected me because I'm 'too young.' You know me, childish Annie. Better not take her seriously as a sexual partner; you might get arrested for pedophilia."
"Annie." Abed called Annie back from her rant. She winced apologetically. "You should go home. I'll cover for you."
She noticed a familiar glint in his eyes that meant he was planning to "move the plot along." She was feeling drained enough not to really care, just grateful for the excuse to go home, put on her pajamas, get under the fluffiest comforter she owned, and watch the episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer where Buffy loses her virginity to Angel.
She turned back at the exit, though. "Abed," she called his attention back to her. "Thanks."
He flashed Annie a thumbs up.
She made sure to lock all her deadbolts tightly, letting a couple tears escape as soon as she was safe in her room.
As she paced the kitchen, waiting for her water to come to a boil, she couldn't help feel furious, deeply wronged by the world.
She wasn't even that mad at Rich. Rich had the decency to admit that he had feelings for Annie. He didn't make her feel totally insane, like the possibility of her making everything up in her head was not just a possibility, but probable.
And, yeah, it did hurt that he rejected her. On any other day, though, it wouldn't have brought her to tears. Rejection of that garden variety she was more than used to.
She was only this upset because Jeff had won again. He had wiggled his way out of any responsibility for his actions, and it hurt.
As soon as she had settled in—mug of tea cradled in her lap as she hummed along to the opening tune of Buffy— an abrasive pounding sounded at her door.
"Who is it?" She called out timidly.
"Jeff."
She barely avoided spilling tea all over herself.
"Oh God, ohgodohgodohgod," she fluttered for a second, losing total control over her motor functions. Louder, in response, she called, "Hang on, so many deadbolts."
She heard Jeff chuckle darkly. "I can't believe you live here, and also: hurry. My ass looks fantastic in these jeans, and some guy at the end of the hall with a twitch has noticed."
She let the door fall open. "What do you want, Jeff?"
"Hostile, much? Will you at least invite me in before you start interrogating me?"
She considered it, nostrils flared. Jeff's eyes shifted worriedly to the person in the hall, and she caved. "Fine." She took a step away from the door to allow him access. He shut the door firmly behind him. "What do you want?" She repeated firmly.
"Look," he starts, "I wasn't blowing you off when you asked me if I liked you or not. The way I feel truly is complicated, and I am, by necessity, not really into the whole introspection deal. So most of the time, I have no idea what my feelings for you mean. It's a mess. You know what isn't, though? The simple, sharp fact that I am an insecure asshole. When I see my friends, people that I care about—you—fawn over someone who isn't me, I get jealous and throw tantrums…you want to know how I feel about you, Annie? I don't have a clue. But I do know this: I don't particularly like it when other people, well, have a shot with you."
She felt the familiar tangle of pleasure at the promise of his words, anger at his selfishness, and a little bit of defeat because he was just so damn charming…so Jeff.
"I give it a six out of ten. I know you can do better than that, Winger." She teased.
Jeff visibly relaxed, seeming to sense that they were good for the time being. Message delivered, things could go back to the way they were until further notice.
"Like I'm going to take criticism from you, you're seeking solace in Buffy the Vampire Slayer."
Annie just scoffed. "I could kick you out, make you face hall guy." Jeff pouted out his lower lip, making Annie blush and giggle. "You can stay, but I only have the one chair." She gestured toward the chair as it slumped pathetically.
Jeff simply shrugged. "It's cool; you can sit on my lap. That way you have the option to cry in private dignity. I see this is the Angelus episode."
"Thank you," she curtsied, unable to keep the satisfied smirk off her face. He was definitely a keeper.
Further evidence: he even played with her hair as she cried, her favored method of physical comfort.