Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore Girs. if I did, believe me, it would have turned out quite differently.

A/N: Welcome to my new story! I hope you have a great time! This idea popped into my head many months ago, but I decided to finish my old story before committing to a new project (One day, I hope to finish "A Light in a Life" as well. Let's believe so.)

This is a story set in Yale, at some point in season 5. No new characters, just a story about Rory, Logan and Jess.

I haven't made a long plan for this story yet, so please review and tell me if you think this story is interesting enough to have a next chapter

CHAPTER 1 – A DIRECT HIT

"What am I doing here, Rory?

I don't belong here. Not anymore.

Do I?"

These were the last words.

"Hi, I'm not home right now but my answering machine is, so you can talk to it instead. Wait for the beep."

Rory walked past the bed and picked up the phone. She erased all her messages without really listening to them. It didn't matter. There had been no messages from him anyway, and that was message enough.

It had been two weeks since Dean had last called her. Since the fateful day he'd broke up with her, apparently for good this time.

All in all, she admitted, she wasn't handling this very well. Hell, who was she trying to kidding? She was handling it horribly. Eating-ice-cream-all-day horribly. She-could-have-sworn-she-had-already reduced-the-size-of-the-cloth-to-first-size kind of horribly.

But she couldn't stay in bed forever. Not today. Today was back to school, first day.

Trying to get away from the shame of staying in Stars Hollow after being recently dumped by her married ex-boyfriend, she anticipated her return to the college dormitory. Staying in campus by herself for a couple of weeks didn't sound that bad compared to that. She wanted to be alone. Well, no. She didn't want to be alone. She just didn't want to hear whatever it was anybody had to say.

She slipped from under the covers and padded over to the bathroom, resisting the temptation to check her messages again. She opened her wardrobe and contemplated it for a few minutes. Whenever she felt like this she struggled to find something to wear, especially when she hadn't washed a single piece of clothing for the last three weeks.

Who cares? She was dying from the inside. It's not like she would run into something interesting that day anyway. Anything would fit fine. She slipped into a simple cotton dress and tied her hair back with a band.

She stuffed her purse with things that might be useful and a very heavy book, which would probably be her loyal best friend for a long time.

She didn't bother to check if Paris had come back to their dorm. As far as she remembered, Paris was still people. And it was part of the kind she couldn't tolerate any less at that particular moment.

Between boring classrooms and people hugging in the hallways, Rory thanked the Lord for finally being able to open her book in the dining hall and enjoy some peace.

She was so tired of hearing people talk about their supposedly great summers that she couldn't help but wonder if she was the only miserable person in a 10 square mile radius.

She tried to hide her face with the book as her former roommate, Janet, approached. Not that she had anything against Janet, but she wasn't exactly a people-person at the time. "Hey, Rory!"

She plastered the best fake smile on her face. "Hi Janet."

"How was your Summer?" Sure, there was the infamous question. She couldn't tell her the truth without melting her ears off. Of course, no one was to blame for her problems either. Lying was probably her best option. "It was great... How was yours?"

"Wonderful. I met a guy and we've been dating for a month now."

"Oh..." Rory pretended to be happy for her friend, but seriously, kill her now. "That's great."

"I know. I'm so happy! Hey, maybe we should go on a double date sometime? With you and Dean. We would finally have another couple to hang out with." Janet spoke excitedly, but Rory's smile quickly died on her face. "Oh... Actually Dean and I broke up."

"Oh...I'm so sorry." Noticing her dismay, Janet didn't say what she was thinking, and the moment passed, leaving an awkward silence between them. "But that's ok! You will find someone else."

Yeah, that was what people always said to losers. "Yeah, thanks."

"I've heard we'll be having a big party for the freshmen on the campus. Several new meets and of course; Yale's most eligible bachelors. I think you should come."

Rory controlled herself not to roll her eyes, but damn that conversation was annoying. And Janet's kind of guys? No thanks! Rory wasn't interested in dating jocks or frat boys. She would be wearing animal print clothing before that happened. "Thanks, I'll think about it."

Janet left the table with a smile on her satisfied face. Little did she know that Rory was a boy repellent. Or at least she felt that way. Dean had broken up with her over and over again. Jess had fled away without any explanation. At least the first time.

She could give Jess a pass though. Since he came back into her life, they became great friends. Best friends. She even thought about giving him a call — to ask him if he wanted to hang out sometime, but dropped the idea. He was often too busy working on his new book.

There were no other options left than going back to her dorm and opening the next ice cream tub.

"Oh my God! Paris, what is that stench?" Rory shouted over her shoulders and covered her nose. "I'm cooking." Her voice trailed down the hallway until it was cut short by Rory's shriek. "Human flesh?"

She didn't wait for her roommate's answer. She raced up to her room and slammed the door hard. Now she had noticed Paris's presence. And along with her came the most stinky food she ever smelled. Seriously, she attempted to keep the smell to get into her room, but it was definitely overpowering the space.

She couldn't spend the night in that dorm.

She sat up on bed running her fingers through her hair and remembered what Janet had said. No way. She couldn't go to a party. She wasn't in the mood for a party. She was still dealing with an unexpected breakup. She'd been looking forward to Saturday because she fully intended to remain in her pajamas until Sunday.

Even if she was, Rory Gilmore didn't attend parties that went long into the night, didn't linger at dances until you were exhausted and didn't indulge in too much rich food and wine that kept you up all night.

Even though, she looked out the window. The moonlight streamed into the eastern window showed her happy people, smiling. She had tried this lifestyle for a long time now, but she wasn't happy. Should she insist on the same attitude and expect different results? No. That night would take an unexpected turn. She got up and pulled out a dress from the very back of the closet, seized it and held it against herself.

Rory decided not to overthink. She was tired of moping around, tired of feeling sorry for herself, tired of missing Dean. She didn't want to think about him anymore, so she decided to do her own thing. Every activity was welcome and seemed pleasant and comforting compared to thinking about him one minute longer.

If all went wrong, she still had her book.

"Nerd."

"Hideous noise."

"Probably a virgin."

"Not a redhead."

The party playboys were looking for insignificant flaws in the girls they weren't interested in. Or in those they didn't want to sleep with again. The truth was they were tired of those incestuous college parties. They wanted to live for the real action.

"I give up. Logan, this party is lame. I think we should go right now and rock some pub."

"Nah! I'm sure we don't want to miss this." Still leaning with his back against the rail, Logan raised the bottle, addressing the gang.

Logan Huntzberger had built his reputation by being the biggest playboy of Yale and probably from all Hartford elite society. Lord have mercy, but the pictures didn't do him justice.

Money, parties and fun were all he was looking for. The same could be said for girls — once he had a target in mind, he went for her until he scored.

Even though tonight was a target-rich environment, and more than a handful of the sexy girls who'd come tonight were giving him the once-over, he hadn't set his mind on anyone during the few hours he'd been there. Which was unusual for him. He liked the ladies. The ladies liked him. No ego on his part; he just enjoyed women, and he loved being around them. They were sweet, fun to be with, smelled great, and made him feel good. There was nothing bad about that. In return, he showed them a good time, spent money on them, and never lied to them or tried to be anything other than who he was.

He was little wild and reckless, but he wasn't dishonest. He never promised a girl anything he wasn't willing to deliver.

Which meant steering clear of girls looking to hook a boyfriend, or any kind of commitment. He gravitated toward the party girls, like the hot blonde and the statuesque redhead who'd been hovering near his radar all night.

Those were the women who wanted to have the same kind of no-strings-attached fun he did. It was only a matter of time before he went in for the kill. After all, the hunt was part of the fun. All the circling, eyeing, and flirting was a game. He did love the game—and he played the game to win.

Part of that fun was to figure them out. Figure out what brought them here. The blonde and the redhead were definitely good-time girls. He could tell by the body language and the looks they gave him. They wanted a lot more than a few drinks.

Easy score, for sure. So why did his focus keep drifting to the cool brunette sitting by herself at a table in the corner? She wasn't his type at all. She wasn't wearing a skintight dress that showed ample amounts of skin. She wore a simple, black short-sleeved dress that fell to her knees. Though she did have killer legs—legs he'd like to see a lot more of. She just wasn't showing off her assets.

So why does a girl come to that kind of gathering to open a huge kind of boring book?

Maybe she was related to someone of the party, but he hadn't seen anyone come within ten feet of the table in the past two hours. She was no wallflower, but she wasn't giving off vibes that said, 'come talk to me' either.

There were plenty of women here to have the kind of fun he was looking for, and the brunette wasn't the right type. He could tell from the rigid set of her shoulders and the stick-up-her-ass way she sat that she wasn't a partier.

She surveyed the room and gave off definite 'keep away from me' signals, which was likely why no one approached her. Still, his gaze kept gravitating back to her.

He hated seeing anyone sitting alone. He went up to the bar and nudged Colin, one of his best friends. Colin turned, then nodded. "Hey! What's up?"

"Do you have any idea who is that girl sitting by herself over in the corner?" Colin followed the motion of Logan's head, then frowned. "No. I have no idea. But she looks mean."

Logan laughed. "That's what I thought, too. Either way, she's the girl going home with me tonight."

He should ignore her and concentrate on the two other women at his mercy. But for some reason, she kept grabbing his attention and wouldn't let go. Maybe it was because she kept staring at him. Not in the way other women looked at him—the take-me-home-with-you-tonight plea. Her gaze was cool and assessing. An occasional brief glance and then she'd look away, like she wasn't at all interested in him.

Oh, she must be interested. They all were. So maybe she was a game player after all, and this was a new kind of game. He pushed off the bar and headed her way. She could throw off all the stay-away signals she wanted, but he was curious now. Someone that beautiful was alone for a reason. He stopped at her table and her gaze lifted, slowly assessing him.

She didn't smile, but she didn't frown, either.

"You're here alone?" He asked, flashing his unmistakable dazzling bright smile, but she didn't look impressed. "As you can see, I am."

Unfamiliar accent. Right, it fit her. She was all peaches-and-cream complexion, smooth skin, full lips, and the prettiest eyes— the color of the sky.

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't help to notice you're here reading this book alone and not talking to anyone."

"Yeah, the voices in my head are enough." She answered him acidly, hoping it would be sufficient to make him leave. "Oh, thank God! I thought I was the only one to hear it." He quipped so quickly that she couldn't hide her surprise.

Just like that, she averted her eyes from her book for the first time to stare at his face. "What?" She was pleasantly surprised by his sense of humor. Indeed, appearances are deceptive, but wittiness are not.

Her eyes lingered for a second as her mind registered the fact that this guy was charming, and smart, and it would be easy to like him. Maybe like him a lot. Except she wasn't totally sold on his arrogant swagger.

Logan smiled, displaying perfectly straight, perfectly white teeth. This girl had a weird sense of humor. Which meant that a mediocre conversation wouldn't be enough to take her home with him. He would have to use his best game. Good, he could face some challenge for a change.

He slid his hand out and offered it to her. "I'm Logan. Can I sit down?"

She slipped her hand in his and finally gave him a smile — the kind of smile that made a man glad to be a man. "Be my guest."

Bingo.

A/N: Don't forget to tell me what you think. Should I continue?