Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Titans

When I left off, Rachel was in her house moping for three days and on the third day, she got a call from her father. The phone conversation is continued here.

"Mr. Roth," Rachel spat back. How dare he call her his daughter?

"No need to be so cold, my dear." He paused, and Rachel imagined him smirking to himself. "To get to the point, Rachel, you are moving."

"What?"

"Moving. As of tomorrow, you are accompanying myself and the senior vice president of Roth Industries to Steel City, where we are building a branch. Apparently, however, the City is very conerned with the environmental issues with removing the forest they have left, and the protesters are arguing that they'd rather not have a business with no heart in their town." Tristan Roth tried not to growl at the thought. Once he became a respected member of their society, he'd have to dispose of those people.

"I wonder why," Rachel mumbled to herself.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. So what do you need me for?"

"You are to become Rachel Roth, the poor orphan I adopted out of the kindness of my heart. Play the part correctly and I'll be rid of you as soon as you are out of college. Then you may return to that pathetic place you call home." He snickered. "Are you happy living with roaches? You are lower than them on the social triangle, or so I remember."

Rachel felt her already tiny resolve disappear. He was right. He was always right. But that had been her choice. If something like this were to happen, where her father would call her away, she'd be torn. She'd've had something of importance to her here, but this way, she didn't.

She hated this place so much, and yet, she still couldn't bring herself to leave it. Had he asked before she'd met Gar, she'd have packed her bags that very second. Why was she arguing now? There was no point. Sighing into the phone, she asked only one more question.

"When?"

"Tomorrow at four, I will arrive there. The flight to Steel City leaves at six p.m. Be ready. I will not tolerate tardiness." He hung up the phone, and Rachel set hers down gently, taking a look around her house. Time to start packing.

Surely she'd come today, Gar told himself for the fourth day in a row as he walked up to the school. She couldn't stay away forever. There were still over six months left in the school year, and Rachel wasn't one to drop out.

However, as the day went on, he knew she wasn't there. Kory said she hadn't been in A.P. Language Arts in the morning, and Vic said she hadn't been in his history class either. More than a little depressed by the fact, Gar kept telling himself, tomorrow. She'll come tomorrow.

He'd made regular trips to her house, or rather, he'd made regular trips to the house across from hers, staring at the rundown building in hopes Rachel would come out of it. He'd sit there doing his homework, though not entirely getting it. It wasn't the same without Rachel there. But he was going to work until he dropped, if he had to. Rachel had been the one to get him in the A.P. math class, and he sure wasn't going to let her down again.

After school, however, when he traveled over there, a huge stretch limo was parked in front of the house. As if that wasn't suspicious enough, two men were putting a 'For Sale' sign in front of it. A third man, much more intimidating, stepped out of the limo, his silvery hair immedately blown back by the heavy wind, exposing slightly pointed ears. He was yelling at the men handling the sign, his face turning a steady red. Whether it was from the wind or blood pressure, Gar wasn't sure. The man's crisp suit crackled loud enough for Gar to hear it as the door of Rachel's house opened. She came out of it, holding a single suitcase and awkwardly carrying it over to the limo. The horrible truth struck Gar at once.

Rachel was leaving.

"You were almost late," said Tristan Roth coldly. "We have to be at the airport at five. Do you honestly think we'll get there now?" Rachel paid him no heed as she hoisted her suitcase into the trunk of the limo. Her father probably hadn't arranged for the limo because he was seeing his daughter for the first time in ten years, oh no. She was of no importance to him, he merely wanted to parade around who he was. She chose not to answer his question.

Rachel felt like throwing up. She didn't want to go with him. She didn't want to spend six months acting like she was forever grateful to this man for rescuing her from some orphanage. But it really didn't matter what she wanted, as long as she threw up in the barf bags and not all over his precious belongings.

"RACHEL!" a very familiar voice called. Both her and her father turned to look, and it only made her feel more sick. Gar was running across the street, nearly falling flat on his face, he was tripping so much. Tristan raised one eyebrow, though Rachel didn't think he was amused.

"A friend of yours?" he asked maliciously. Rachel gulped, wondering what exactly he'd say about her to Gar if he found out she was close to him. He may not have seen her in ten years, but his memory was exceptional, and there was, more likely than not, something stored up there that would make Gar high-tail it back home.

"No." Gar visibly drooped, but he stood his ground.

"Mr. Roth? There's a call for you from the Junior V.P. He says it's important," called a man from inside the limo.

"It can wait," Tristan growled. "You. Get away from my daughter, understood? Or would you rather waste your time with depressed girls who have nothing better to do with their time but cut themselves? It would do you well to go." Rachel heard Gar inhale sharply, but she stared unmovingly at the ground. That was supposed to remain private. That had stopped years ago, after her father had finally left.

"Rachel? Did you really--?" Gar began.

"Mr. Roth! This is urgent!" pleaded the man from inside the car. Smirking at Rachel, Tristan left to take the call. Gar burst into chatter as soon as her father was gone.

"Why are you leaving? What's going on? Why would you do that to yourself, Rachel? I don't understand!"

Rachel knew she shouldn't be taking this out on Gar. It wasn't his fault. Well, a little bit. But not all of it. Still, she glared at him, hoping her anger wasn't enough to burn a hole in his head. "I'm leaving because I don't have a choice. I never had a choice. I have no home without him. If I don't leave, I'm out on the streets. That's why."

"Why can't you just stay with Kory or Karen? Their mom's would die to have you in their houses, and then you wouldn't have to go!"

"Gar, you idiot! You and your friends are all idiots, and I can't stand you! Get out of my life! You're the ones who set up that stupid bet in the first place, you used me, and you broke whatever heart I had left! Just leave me ALONE!" Rachel yelled, ready to slap the boy. She would have, too, if he his look of sorrow hadn't seemed so genuine. But she had no trust in her judgement anymore. Who knew what they had planned to do next?

"Rae...we didn't mean any of it, we swear. We didn't know you, we didn't know you'd be a best friend to us. It was wrong, Rae, but can't you forgive us?" he begged. Rachel almost did. She had no idea Gar could be serious, or convincing like this. But still, she'd been hurt one too many times, even if it was something stupid.

She turned away. "Just get away from me, Gar...I hate you, all of you."

For the longest time, there was silence, besides Tristan Roth on the phone, which could be heard outside the limo. She thought he'd left, and heaved a sigh. Without warning, tears ran down her face and dropped on to the sidewalk, and she wiped away the trails before her father came out and saw them.

All of a sudden, someone grabbed her roughly by the shoulder and spun her around. "You don't hate us, do you, Rae? You just don't give second chances. But we deserve a second chance. We're your friends, and we care about you. Or at least, they are." Gar had stayed. He grinned a little before leaning forward to kiss her.

Rachel was so shocked, she barely knew what was happening. One minute, she was kissing--actually kissing--Gar, and the next, he'd separated. "Please stay, Rachel. Please."

She took a shaky step back. "G-go. J-just leave." Gar hadn't been expecting that, or so she gathered. Once it hit him, he shrunk back.

"Rae..."

"Rachel! In the car, we have to leave!" yelled Tristan. Obediantly, she climbed in next to an old, greasy haired man who she assumed was the Senior V.P. He paid her no heed, but she didn't care, her reality still a little blurred. Gar had just kissed her.

And, she realized, twisting around so she could stare out the back window at his slouching form, I'm leaving him behind.