Title: Girl Like That

Authors: Mrs. Witter (Jamie) and ChristineCS (Chris, duh)

Disclaimer: Jamie and I, despite the harem we own (we know it creates mass confusion about the ownership thing), do not own Gilmore Girls, their characters, matchbox twenty, their songs or Rob's awesome writing talent, therefore we do not own the lyrics in the chapter title. We also don't own Mark Paul Gosselaar or Emilie De Raven, but you'll have to think about why that is added. We do however claim ownership on our own writing. So consider yourself warned.

Author's Note:  Schuyler is pronounced "schoular".

Rating: PG – 13

Pairing: Rory/Tristan

Chapter 2: I'm the same old trailer trash in new shoes

English Composition. Rory stood outside the classroom for a minute, a big smile plastered across her face. It had taken her twenty minutes to locate this classroom and she was almost ready to panic when someone had kindly pointed out to her that she was standing in front of it. This was her first class. She was a freshman in college. This moment was monumental. "Wow."

Cole entered his English Composition slowly, almost cautiously, as if he was looking out for someone, probably a Claymore. Nothing was safe with a Schuyler Vaughn Claymore on the loose. No sign of the strawberry blonde, and he let out a breath that he hadn't realized that he'd been holding. Now where to sit was a completely different question. He found a pretty brunette sitting up in the front, looking- God help him- eager. That was as good as any, and perhaps it'd clear his mind of other things. "Hi," he greeted her.

Rory hadn't paid much attention to the guy who sat down in the row next to her when he came in (she was busy marveling at the classroom) but now, she turned around to look at him, happy that people seemed to be so friendly. He was handsome she had to admit. Strikingly so. She smiled a little too shyly. "Hi."

"Cole Montgomery," he felt the need to get it out of the way immediately considering the last two people he'd met with hadn't referred to him favorably before he gave out his name.

"Rory Gilmore," she replied, her nervousness dissipating under his friendly gaze. "I hope I'm in the right class. It took me a long time to find this one and it would suck if it were the wrong one because of some glitch in the Yale bureaucracy and I tend to blabber incoherently at times so I'm just going to shut up."

Cole laughed, "Well this is English Composition, if that helps you." It was odd to be near such happiness and eagerness. His sister, Veronica was a sour, brooding sort that saw only the worse in everything.

She smiled in relief that he wasn't scooping out a new place to sit. "I heard in the hallways that Prof. Brownwen was really tough. And it was hard to get a C on the first paper. And that was the PG version of his description."

"Well, it could be a rumor Brownwen starts to decrease the numbers in his classes," Cole suggested, he knew the old practice of getting rid of the slackers before the class even began. "It was common practice at Browning."

"Your old high school?" Rory asked curiously. For some reason, this guy seemed fascinating. She needed to make new friends. He was nice. Why the hell not?

"Yes, it was that, my junior high school and my primary school," Though all three were understatements for Browning's rigorous academic curriculum. She looked interested, so he continued on. "It's over on East 62nd Street in New York."

She smiled. "My roommate is from New York too. It must be a great place to live. I've always wondered what it would be like to live in such a big city." She loved Stars Hollow, but it was a sheltered life she led there.

Cole wondered for a split moment if her roommate was Schuyler Vaughn herself, but no, fate didn't have such a twisted sense of humor. "It's actually quite small, since you're restricted to the 'acceptable' portions of the city, deemed by your parents. Going out into Chinatown, or even downtown was like visiting a whole another city."

"Oh yeah, the seedy underbelly of the city," Rory joked, leaning back in her chair. "There was a restricted place like that in Stars Hollow, where I come from. Not many muggers or murderers there but children are told stories of the eccentric town recluse who lives in a shack so they get in bed lest he should show up. My mom and I went searching for him. He invited us in for coffee."

"And you came out alive?" Cole asked, leaning back in his chair. "That must have damaged the plan of whoever was trying to keep people away from there."

"My mom wanted to tell everyone at the town meeting," she answered. When his brows drew together in surprise, she gave him a half-smile. "Yes, we had town meetings. It's one of our quirks. Anyway, I stopped her from becoming a pariah among parents. She manages to get on their bad sides, often."

"We had a radical like that at one of the PTA meetings, she believed that parents should attend the meeting so that it will be a true PTA meeting," Cole shrugged, "Else wise we should rename it NTA meetings. Since it was all nannies that attended them, or butlers. Butlers were also big."

She laughed lightly but before she could respond, the Professor was standing in front of the class, a stern look on his face as he waited for the students to settle down. Once they did he walked to the desk and started arranging his papers, not saying a word. Rory's brows furrowed. She looked over at Cole, who remained passive. He passed her a piece of paper, smiling. She opened it and read: Coffee? She smiled and scribbled down her answer. Sure.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Most people thought being short was a detriment in life, and a good cause of misery. Since Vaughn was vertically challenged at the height of five feet, she was able to disagree with this statement, since she rather liked being short. It gave her more options; she could be short when she wanted to. Or hiked up to average in a pair of rather large heels. Tall people couldn't be short; there was no way around it. This love of being short, however, did not extend to this particular moment in time. Since the book she needed for her freshman psychology class was topping over at the six-foot mark. If there wasn't a possibility of her foot being broken, she would have kicked the bookcase, and not to mention the possibility of her being killed by falling textbooks either. Thinking about what was best for her body, she settled for scowling at it instead.

Tristan stood at the end of the bookcase, watching the petite blonde – uh, strawberry blonde? – scowl ferociously at a book resting on the highest shelf. He didn't know if it was the scowl or the girl that struck something in him, but he was having a great time watching her try and reach the book and then giving up to have a staring contest with it. He walked up to her quietly, contemplating on a greeting. When he came to stand beside her, she looked up at him. Her scowl lost its viciousness and was turning into a wary frown. His brow quirked as he kept a smirk at bay. "Need some help?"

"No, any second now the magic heightening pills will kick in and I'll be set," Vaughn cringed after she said it, it had to be Montgomery's presence that turned her into such a bitch. She pulled herself mentally together, reminding herself that he, as in the attractive of blonde standing next to her, was not the source of her problems. She turned and grinned at him. "Yes, your help would be very much appreciated."

He smiled at her sudden attitude change, reached up and pulled out the psychology textbook with ease. He handed it to her and she looked a little sheepish so he decided to calm her down. She had the most intriguing eyes. He'd never seen that color…it seemed almost unnatural. "Is it just me or is my entire gender deserving of the same scorn you showed this bookcase?"

"I'd never be so hasty as to say your entire gender deserves that kind of scorn," mainly it was down to Montgomery men and a few ex-boyfriends. Asses. Vaughn shook her head; she really needed to think happier thoughts, like the blonde's blue eyes. They were nice. In fact he had officially earned the title of 'Cute Bookstore Guy'. Not knowing people's names could be more fun for her, than actually knowing. "Just a few select few."

He laughed a little, pocketing his hands in the pocket of his jeans. "You sound like a few of my ex-girlfriends. Remind me never to get on your bad side. Those eyes of yours are dangerous." Did he just say that?

Dangerous? Huh. She had never been called that before, in fact 'cute' and 'too adorable for words' were about the most she could get from people when it came to describing her. Hell, even the time she was nearly booted from boarding school, her actions had been considered 'cute'. She considered them weird, but to each their own. "Dangerous, huh? In what way?"

Tristan tried to regain his composure. He expected that she would slap him. Or called him a jerk and stomp off indignantly. But the girl in front of him just looked curious, as she had no idea what he was talking about. Obviously she was one of those girls who didn't realize the effect they had on the opposite sex. A little flustered, he chuckled. "Just that I saw the way you were staring at that book. Heaven forbid an actual person having to withstand that gaze."

Ah, that kind of dangerous. "Many have tried, but very few have lived." Vaughn hugged the textbook to her chest, looking over at the line. Too long to be a part of. "I'm Schuyler Vaughn Claymore, by the way. Vaughn to most, Schuyler only to the suicidal."

He liked that name. Unique, like the color of her eyes and hair. "I most certainly do not have a death wish, Vaughn. Not today anyways. I'm Tristan DuGrey. I don't have a nickname and no one has dared to make one."

Tristan, like from Tristan and Isolde or The Divine Comedy, only less tragic. She liked that; then again she liked literary references. "It's a good name, why mar it?"

"Exactly," he answered with a smile. He looked at the textbook hugged against her chest (and yes, he tried not to stare at her breasts but it was kind of hard not to). "So you're a psychology major?"

"Minor," Vaughn corrected, she had debated endlessly with herself with what her major should be. The only thing she had been able to nix off right away was Religious Studies. She'd had enough of that to last an eternity and beyond. "It's actually Medieval Studies, which makes me now sound like a total dork or really lazy."

A little more comfortable and confident with her, he gave her his famous once-overs that were meant to be more complimentary than disgusting and smiled. "You're definitely no dork. Can I buy you coffee?"

What a dilemma, she could go get coffee, one of her top five favorite things in the world, with an attractive male, or she could not. Well, let's see, was she stupid? No, she didn't think so. "Sure, Tristan."

~*~

"You know," Rory said as Cole took a sip of his coffee and smiled widely. He had such a charming smile. She wondered how many hearts he had broken, how many girls he'd left back in New York City who had fallen for those eyes, that quick, friendly smile and  - even she couldn't deny it because she wasn't blind – that body. "My mother and you would be fast friends."

"Oh?" he said as they sat down at a table, near the window.

"Mm-hm," she answered after taking a sip of her own coffee. Before Cole could reply, he saw a familiar shade of blonde and closed his eyes. Was he going to run the risk of meeting her at this damned Starbucks every time? If so, he might as well start looking for a new place to get his daily fix. Rory's brows furrowed. "Cole?"

"Damn," he muttered and then smiled at the brunette sheepishly. "Sorry, I just saw someone I'd rather not. She's standing over there by the counter…with that blonde guy who looks very familiar…"

Rory turned around, intrigued.

Ugly Scary Lady had replaced cute Counter Guy; it hurt to look at her. So Vaughn turned her gaze onto the much more pleasant person next to her in line. "I got a latte the last time I was here." Actually two, since Montgomery had upset her so much. "So I was thinking of going with something different this time. What say you- mochaccino or a French Vanilla cappuccino?"

Tristan had rarely seen someone so vitalized by the idea of coffee, rather than just the drinking of it. He watched rather amused, for a few moments before answering her. "I'm more of an English Toffee person, actually."

"That is a good choice, too," Vaughn agreed. So many choices, so little time left before they were up to order. "You'll have to excuse me, I spent the past six years at a Catholic school, caffeine was frowned upon so my fixes were limited to the summer. I'm making up for lost time."

Well the Catholic School attendance explained her earlier naivety on what he had been saying earlier. "Nuns don't like coffee?"

"No they said it made you do bad things," Vaughn replied, as it was time for them to order. She decided on the French Vanilla.

"Like fidget in class?" Tristan teased as he watched her do just that as she poured the sugar into her cup.

She nodded, finishing up stirring the sugar into her cup and looking around for a place to sit. It was busier than it had been when she was last there. "Amongst othe…" Her voice trailed off as her gaze met the last person she wanted to see.

"Something wrong?" Tristan asked her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"No, just seeing someone I don't want to," Vaughn replied with a sigh, she gestured to where Cole and the brunette he was with. "Old family friend, I guess is what his title would be."

Tristan turned to look where she had pointed.

Rory turned back to Cole, still unsure if her eyes were seeing clearly. She'd seen Vaughn and the guy who looked familiar to her too. Too many things hit her at once: Cole knew Vaughn and apparently didn't like her and the familiar blond guy was Tristan DuGrey, fresh out of military school. Confused, her eyes widened in Cole's direction. "That's Vaughn. My roommate."

Cole grinned wryly. "And that's Tristan my roommate."

"I know Tristan."

"I know Vaughn, unfortunately."

Rory, still in shock turned around again and motioned for Vaughn to join them.

Tristan blinked, wondering if he needed his eyes checked. Because that really couldn't be his roommate, the aspiring John Mellencamp Jr. and Rory Gilmore sitting together. Rory Gilmore, the almost-obsessed-with-Harvard-as-Paris, Rory Gilmore. Here in New Haven. At Yale in New Haven. But, no, there was nothing wrong with his eyesight that really was Rory and Cole. Now that his shock had died down at seeing Rory Gilmore, he remembered what Vaughn had said earlier. She knew Cole, didn't like him, but knew him.

"You know Cole?"

Vaughn nodded, "Grew up in the Upper Westside of New York City together. The girl he's with is Rory, my roommate."

"I know Rory," Tristan stated. "We went to the same private school for a year or two."

"Oh," That was surprising. "Before military school?"

He nodded, "Yeah."

She debated on how to get out of Rory's invitation to join them, but since Tristan and Rory knew each other, there really was no way to get out of it. She took a large gulp of her French Vanilla, ignoring the burning hot going down her throat and then headed towards the Rory-Cole table.

Cole managed a tight smile as his roommate and Vaughn approached the table. Rory, who had gotten over her shock, was smiling brightly. Damn, he wished her cheerfulness were contagious. When the blondes reached the table, Rory stood up a little too excited. "Hi! Vaughn, Tristan…I didn't know you were here. Well of course I knew you were here Vaughn, I just didn't know Tristan was here and that…sorry. Hey Tristan, it's good to see you."

Tristan slid into the table, watching her warily; people who said his name three times rather frightened him. At least she was mature enough not to yell at him and berate him for being immature years ago. Well two at least. "Hey Rory, good to see you too."

Vaughn fell into the seat next to Tristan. "Hey Rory." She glanced sullenly at Cole. "Montgomery."

"Schuyler," he said, mimicking her tone. "So DuGrey, Rory tells me that the two of you know each other. Didn't you go to military school?"

Rory grinned a little. "We went to Chilton together for a year and a half was it? I'm not sure because you spent so much time in suspension." As soon as the words left her mouth she regretted saying them. She had meant them as a joke but from the look on Tristan's face she knew that he didn't think it was too funny. She needed to apologize fast. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I thought that prank was funny."

Tristan shrugged it off; he had been stupid in high school. It wasn't any type of state secret. "It's all right, I was laughing about it until I hit military school."

Cole smiled widely, always in mood to hear a good prank story. "What did you do?"

Rory was still feeling bad for what she said. Seeing Tristan after so long, especially since she thought she'd never see him again had thrown her off and she needed time to sort out her thoughts and figure out how she was supposed to act around him. She felt like she needed to compensate. "It was a great prank. I only heard it through the rumor mill. What did you really do?"

He assumed that she meant the car thing, since the safe thing wasn't great and she had heard it from him. "Yeah, we took apart a car and rebuilt in the hallway." Tristan shrugged, two years later, it didn't really seem all that great.

"A few girls did that at St. Helene's," Vaughn spoke up. "Or at least attempted it."

"What happened?" Tristan took the opportunity to take the attention off of him and his early teenage stupidity.

"Well they were Catholic school girls," she said simply. "They did alright at the dismembering but they just couldn't put Humpty Dumpty back together again."

Tristan laughed, feeling much more relaxed about talking about the prank. And launched into detail on how they had managed to take apart and then put back the car.

Rory leaned back against her chair and watched as Tristan easily engaged both Cole and Vaughn into a conversation (and even managed to remove the tension that the foursome had created). He was smiling, laid back and completely comfortable. It was nice seeing him like this – sans attitude. The only thing that bothered her was that he hadn't looked at her even once since he sat down.