Author's Note: Anyone notice that there are like zero Rogan stories circulating the fanfiction circuit lately? I have, so, I've decided to start a new story. I know, that's a bad idea, but I've been busy lately with school and Rotary stuff. So, here's a new Rogan story.

Based on the song, "The Rush" by Dashboard Confessional… The Shade of Poison Trees is their best album yet!

:D

Story Summary: She watched with a heavy heart as he, his bags, and his father got into the black limo. He didn't even look up at her, not once. Her lip quivered, but she didn't make a sound. She didn't want her mom to come in. She didn't want to have to tell her.

Story Info: Logan and Rory have been best friends forever. They live next door to each other and have grown up together. Lorelai and Christopher got married when Lorelai found out she was pregnant with Rory. Rory's last name is Hayden… Both of the families live in Hartford. In this first chapter, Logan and Rory are both fourteen. Yeah, they are the same age… and well, I guess you'll find out about the rest of the story by reading. :)

The Rush

Chapter 1

This Town Ain't Big Enough For the Both of Us

August 15th 1999

RR

It was times like these when she wished that she kept her drapes drawn. Not because it was too sunny, on the contrary, it was murky out, strange for an August morning. She wished that she hadn't seen the vision in front of her, that's why she wished that the curtain had covered her window, because the site before her broke her heart. She wanted to look away, she wanted to pretend like it didn't bother her, but it was like a train wreck, she couldn't help rubber necking, even if she ended up getting in an accident because of it.

Raindrops trickled down the translucent surface in front of her face. No one looking in would be able to tell that she had tears streaming down her own face. She wiped away at the offending liquid furiously, only to have the tears replace themselves instantaneously. She didn't want to be this girl, the girl who cries because her boyfriend is leaving. It was pathetic; he wasn't even her boyfriend, not technically. Nevertheless, she did love him, and that was even sadder, because he could never reciprocate the feelings. She had learned that over the course of the week. Because he hadn't called or talked to her since that night, the night she gave her virginity to him. She felt like such an idiot. All those things he said to her were obvious lies now that she thought about them. All he wanted to do was loose his damn virginity before he went off to boarding school, which she had to learn about from her Grandmother!

Her stomach turned violently as the images from that night floated back into her mind, the tequila, the confessions, Logan's naked body. She clutched her stomach and let out a quiet sob. She watched with a heavy heart as he, his bags, and his father got into the black limo. He didn't even look up at her, not once. Her lip quivered, but she didn't make a sound. She didn't want her mom to come in. She didn't want to have to tell her about what she had done, what she had given away so flippantly.

She felt a surge of anger radiate through her body as she watched the black car drive away, the gravel crunching behind it. He wasn't the person she thought he was. She thought that despite what she knew he did to other girls, that he would always protect her, that he would always be honest with her. She was a fool to believe that, and she knew that now. She just wished that she could go back in time, then she would tell him no. She would protect herself from the pain and humiliation that she was feeling now. Because right now, she felt lower than she had ever felt before.

Why had she thought that Logan loved her? All year he had been hanging around with pretty, blonde girls with boobs. She was nothing like that. She had pale skin that stretched over her gaunt, 5'4" frame. Her hair was a mousy brown color and it lay stringy over her head. She felt as if she hadn't changed at all physically since she was twelve. She had no curves at all, she was like a pole and she was almost completely flat-chested with her size A cup. What would Logan want with her? He had all these girls at his fingertips and she was nothing. She was the weirdo who still wore ancient sweaters and plain jeans.

That night, she had been more exposed and vulnerable than she had ever been in her entire life. He had essentially used her and then disposed of her. She felt like that condom that still lay under some pieces of tissue in her wastebasket. She shut her drapes after a few minutes and allowed her tears to flow freely down her face. She wasn't going to try and hide it anymore.

The doorknob turned and Rory's stomach lurched forward. She turned around quickly to see who had entered. Her mother entered cautiously and her face fell as she looked at her.

"Rory, honey, why are you crying?" Rory brought her hand up to her face, momentarily forgetting her tears, only to be reminded when her fingers collided with droplets of moisture. She hung her head and willed herself to stop crying, but it was no use. She looked back up at her mom, who looked extremely worried.

"Mom," she quivered in a strangled sob, "I need to tell you something." She sat down on the bed and Rory followed. She told her mother the story, and swore that she had never seen her mom look so small before, she, herself, had never felt so small before now.

Mother like daughter.

LL

He stood in the rain, with his baseball hat on his head, hands in the pockets of his hoodie sweatshirt, as the limo driver loaded his suitcases into the back of the limo. He would have helped, but he was certain that his father would have just stopped him. He sighed loudly in the cold rain. He kept his eyes on the ground, willing himself not to look up at the third story, at the window and glass door leading to the balcony. He feared that her blue eyes would be staring back at him in sadness. He was sure that he would break down if he had to see that.

Or he would throw up.

Either way, it would be messy, and he didn't want the limo driver to have to clean that up, either.

A large hand clamped onto his shoulder, almost in jest, as he stood there waiting to leave for boarding school in Switzerland, a boarding school he never wanted to attend. However, because of recent events, his father had insisted.

"Are you about ready to go, son," asked the owner of the hand. Logan mumbled under his breath and shrugged the hand off his shoulder. He looked up at his dad, momentarily, and Mitchum grimaced. So then, without a word, he opened the door of the limo and got in. Warm air and a roof shielded himself from the rain, but it didn't lighten his mood, either. He didn't want it to lighten his mood; he deserved to feel like this. He had hurt the only person who ever really meant anything to him, and he wanted to pay for it. Moments later, Mitchum slid in next to him and shut the door behind him. The limo driver got in as well and Mitchum put up the black divider. He turned to his son and smiled, slightly. "You'll thank me one day."

Logan looked over and glared at him without a word, before returning his gaze to outside the window. His father sighed and he moved further away from him, to the other side of the limo. Logan gazed out the window and watched the yellow lines pass by rapidly behind the car. This was the worst day of his life, which was perfect because it had been the worst week of his life. Ironic, because it followed the best night of his life, never had he been so happy than after that night, only to have it torn away when his father caught him sneaking back home the next morning. Damn his father for being so perceptive in moments like that, damn him for his reporter genes.

So his father decided to take him away from her, to protect her, to protect himself from any kind of scandal. Because she was an innocent fourteen-year-old girl, but what he didn't understand was why she needed the protecting, he was fourteen, too. Right now, he hated his father and he hated himself for getting caught. However, most of all, he hated himself for indulging in his own fantasies that night, because he had hurt her. That was something he never intended to do.