fic: without a key (Nate; 1/5)

without a key (1/5)
Characters: Nate, Dan, Blair, Serena. Ew, also Chuck.
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 5274


Summary: Nate doesn't want to come home but he doesn't have much of a choice. S1 AU in which Nate is basically Serena.



Note: For dysenchanted2! Sorry this was a day late, but it just kept refusing to be short! And then it demanded to be a multi-chapter. And srsly, rewatching s1 to write this was so much time-consuming fun. They were all so cute! They actually acted! Everything was legitimately good!






Nate doesn't want to come home but he doesn't have much of a choice.

He gets off the train at Grand Central alone, with no one there to meet him. His mother is at Blair's now, at a party; he wouldn't be surprised if she'd planned it that way just to fuck with him. No, look out for him – that's what his mom calls it.

He shouldn't think like that. His mom needs him. That's why he came back.

It's with a deep breath to steel himself that Nate crosses onto the platform, into the station. It feels like so many people are watching, recognizing him – Howard Archibald's kid, isn't it? The one that ran away? – and he locks eyes with one boy in particular, a boy his age with close-cropped hair who seems to recognize Nate instantly. Before he can be placed, the boy drops his gaze; a man who must be his father swings his arm around the boy. Nate feels vague, unspecific jealousy.

Maybe he can just go home and ignore the party altogether. Or, better yet, find another train back to Connecticut.

But no – Nate is a dutiful son and his mother said to meet her at the Waldorfs', so that's what he's doing.

The cab ride there is nowhere near long enough.

Mrs. Waldorf notices him first, keen-eyed as ever. She raises one eyebrow in a way that reminds Nate painfully of Blair and says, "Nate Archibald, is that you?"

"Um…" Nate is not dressed for a party, clearly, in his jeans and sweater; his duffel bag is slung over his shoulder. "Hello."

"Blair didn't tell me we were expecting you."

Nate doesn't particularly want to respond to that, so he says, "Have you seen my mother? She said she would be here tonight."

"Yes," Mrs. Waldorf says, still eyeing him. "I believe she's in the next room. And last I saw," she pauses, pointedly, "the girls were by the kitchen."

Nate ducks his head, already moving past her. "Thank you."

He finds his mother easily. She stands straight-backed, hair swept up, party smile on. She's chatting to someone, but sees Nate immediately; still, she pretends not to realize he's there until he calls her several times.

"Nate," Anne says warmly, leaning in to kiss his cheek. It's only in public that she uses that tone; she'd never sound half that fond if no one was listening. She leaves a hand on his upper arm, not to be affectionate but to hold him in place.

The words rush out before he can help himself: "Is Dad here?"

She's still smiling but her eyes go icy. "Let's save that for later, hmm? Have you said hello to Blair yet?"

"No," he says, a touch impatiently. "Mom, can't you –"

"Nate," she says, in a voice that allows for no refusal, "I thought you might want to see your friends. After all, you've been gone so long."

Guilt, then. One of her usual tricks.

"Okay," Nate sighs. "Okay."

The girls are by the kitchen, like Mrs. Waldorf said, giggling together like he never left; when they see him, both of their faces change entirely. Serena is suddenly panicked, though it only registers in her eyes, quickly glancing at him and then away. Blair's expression smoothes over into polite excitement; she betrays nothing.

"Nate!" Blair exclaims. "I didn't expect you so soon!"

Or at all, he thinks. "Hey."

"Are you staying for dinner?" Her smile is fixed; he could be a stranger to her right now, that's the kind of look it is. "We can set a place for you –"

"No." Nate looks past her at Serena, which is a mistake. Serena is focused elsewhere, in cheerful conversation with Kati. "I just came by to say hi. I'm leaving…gotta unpack, you know…"

"Right." Blair seems thankful, if anything. "See you at school then."

Nate clears his throat, doesn't know what else to say. "See you at school."






"You could have stayed longer than ninety seconds, Nate."

Nate fidgets under his mother's direct look. "I was tired."

"The Waldorfs were bothered by it, I could tell." His mother's breakfast consists of toast and tea, one slice of melon. It's that kind of day, he thinks. "It was rude. I thought you knew better than that."

"I was tired," he says again. "I wasn't ready to see everyone yet." Nate lowers his voice, though it's not like anyone is around to overhear. "You didn't even tell me he was going to rehab."

"You weren't here," Anne counters. "How could I have told you?"

"I don't know, a phone?"

Her eyes narrow. "Funny, I wasn't aware you were familiar with those. You certainly didn't see fit to call before running off to your grandparents' eight months ago." Then, carefully, "You didn't inform your friends either, it seems. After you left, Louisa told me Blair called every day for two weeks."

"I don't want to talk about Blair," Nate says tightly.

"You're going to need all the support you can get when the news about your father comes out."

The way she says it sounds almost like a threat.

Unable to stand his silent, tense house a moment longer, Nate leaves an hour earlier than he needs to for school. Maybe he could catch Chuck, smoke a little before class – it's not like Chuck cares enough to ask any questions, and Nate could certainly use the break from them.

He doesn't expect to find Serena outside his door.

"Hi," she says nervously. Serena's never been nervous around him before and he hates it, suddenly and completely, because it's just another sign that everything's changed.

"Hi," he says.

There's an awkward little pause and then they both laugh, almost normal.

"So…" Serena shrugs, smiles. "I just wanted to see how you were? You seemed kind of upset, yesterday, and I figured Blair was probably still too sore over the breakup to ask herself –"

"Actually, I have to get going," he says. Suddenly he doesn't feel much like talking, not if she's going to be so unlike herself, so reserved; not if everyone is going to bring up Blair and the breakup-that-wasn't. "I'm going to be late, I have to – I said I'd meet Chuck."

She takes a half-step forward. "Nate –"

"I don't want to talk, okay?" Everyone needs to stop trying to make him.

Serena is undeterred. "Nate, you just – you can't tell Blair, okay? She and I are really good right now and we weren't for a while after you left and she's been through a lot this year –"

"I wasn't planning on telling her," he says, annoyed. "I didn't come back for you. I know it didn't mean anything."

It's true, but he's still saying it just to be mean.

He wants, hopes, wishes she'll say of course it did just to prove him wrong, just to make the last eight months of misery mean something, but she doesn't. If she's upset than her relief overwhelms it. "Okay. Thank you."

Nate tries to control the expression on his face, upset and frustrated, as he turns to leave. Honestly, what else did he think she was going to say?

Chuck is a suitable distraction, at first.

"Blair looked effing hot last night."

Nate wonders if he can go twenty minutes without hearing her name.

"There's something wrong with that level of perfection," Chuck continues, taking a thoughtful drag. "It needs to be violated." Nate rolls his eyes and Chuck laughs, unbothered. "Bet you're kicking yourself now that you missed your chance. You know she's fucking Cameron Donaghue, don't you? Last two months."

"Cameron?" Nate repeats. Cameron was on the lacrosse team with him. They were friends. "No. Man, they've never even said two words to each other."

"Harder and yes are probably all they need," Chuck says.

"Fuck you," Nate says without venom, stealing the joint. "You're full of shit."

Amused, Chuck watches him a moment. "At least you got to nail Serena, right?"

Nate stops walking, staring at Chuck. "What?"

"The Shepherd wedding," Chuck prompts. He smiles. "You think I don't know why you left town?"

It crosses Nate's mind then like it sometimes does, unwarranted: Serena in gold with the light coming in behind her, laughing with her knees digging into his sides, and then her mouth, her mouth on his, Nate's head spinning.

To hide his confusion, Nate says angrily, "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"I saw you," Chuck says. "At the bar. Looked fun, Archibald, I have to say. Though it didn't exactly take long, did it?"

"You were –" Nate stares, uncomprehending. "You were watching us?"

"You were in public, Nathaniel," he says, almost chiding. "You should consider yourself lucky that I saw instead of Blair."

Furiously, Nate shoves him. "Fuck you," he says again, meaning it. "Fuck you, what kind of fucking friend are you?"

Chuck's unperturbed; he's laughing at Nate. "I'm just offering you congratulations."

"Well keep it to your fucking self," Nate says. He's still got a handful of Chuck's coat and he shakes him, though Nate knows he's never been particularly threatening. "And don't tell Blair."

"If I was going to tell Blair, I would have told her already." He grins. "So how was it?"

Nate shakes his head, still furious, and glares at Chuck before storming away.






Nate doesn't go to school.

His father's rehab is in Brooklyn so he mans up and gets on the subway; his mother was always a big fan of hired cars, and he's only been on it once or twice, never by himself. It feels surprisingly good to accomplish something on his own, however small. The trains make him nervous at first, underground and racketing, but by the time he gets off in Brooklyn he's decided he likes them.

His dad sighs when Nate turns up. "Aren't you supposed to be at school?"

Nate hovers in the doorway. He doesn't like seeing his dad in this room, it looks too much like a hospital and his dad too much like a patient. "Yeah." He clears his throat. "I wanted to see you."

The Captain gestures him in tiredly, shutting off the television playing some talk show nonsense. "Since you're already here."

Nate sits gingerly in a chair. "How are you feeling?"

Candidly, his dad says, "Like shit," which makes Nate laugh, surprised, and his dad laughs too. "It's good you're back."

Nate is surprised. "Thanks, Dad."

"You want to get breakfast? Tastes like cardboard, but it's something."

"Yeah." Nate nods. "Yeah."

Things with his dad are tense, but decent, and Nate feels good by the time he leaves. He has a lot of time to kill before he has to show up at home, though, and he finds himself wandering the neighborhood. He gets coffee somewhere with outdoor seating. It's relaxing, not like home, and no one is staring at him.

Except one boy, sitting a few tables over.

It irritates Nate when people stare at him so openly, even more than the whispering. He might as well take to wearing a large cardboard sign: Yes, I'm Nate Archibald and my father is an embezzling cokehead. He snaps, "What are you looking at?"

Flustered, the boy looks down and that's when Nate realizes he's seen him before – they'd locked eyes for a minute at Grand Central, he was the boy with his dad.

"Do I know you?" Nate asks.

"Uh…" The boy scrambles, tucks the book he'd been reading under his arm. "We go to school together?" Off Nate's blank look, "St. Jude's?" He tugs on his tie, nervous. "Identical uniform, kind of a tip-off?"

"Oh." Nate frowns, looks more closely. "That's funny." He tilts his head. "You're skipping too?"

"Doctor's appointment." The guy holds up a crumpled prescription like Nate's a teacher or something, like Nate gives a fuck. "Didn't feel like going in late after all. The, uh, commute, you know. It's a bitch."

Nate snorts. "I'm Nate, by the way."

"I know." Embarrassed, he shakes his head and says, "I'm Dan. Humphrey. I'm Dan Humphrey."

It almost makes Nate smile. "You live around here?"

Dan nods, pointing. "Up that way." Seemingly assured by the fact that Nate is no longer snappish, he says, "I don't usually see people from school around here."

Nate looks at the tabletop; he probably shouldn't give out the details of his dad's situation and, more than that, he doesn't want to. "Yeah, I just…had to get away. From there."

Dan nods again. "I know what you mean."






Dinner with his family has never been exactly fun, but now it's deathly. It's just Nate and his mother sitting at either ends of the table, eating in silence, waiting until they've eaten enough to excuse themselves and disappear into their rooms for the evening. At least at his grandparents' there had always been people around, cousins and uncles and guests, lots of distractions.

"I saw Lily van der Woodsen at the salon today," Anne says. She's cutting her chicken into miniscule bites. "She mentioned Serena and Blair were having a party tonight. You didn't tell me."

Awkwardly, Nate says, "I didn't know."

Anne meets his eyes, frowning. "Nate, you cannot keep isolating yourself."

"No one's exactly happy to see me," he says.

"That's my point. Your father is facing jail time, Nathaniel. People don't respond well to scandal like that. If we don't do everything we can to keep the friends we've got, we're going to be left with nothing."

They need to keep up appearances, that's what she means.

She's looking at him so intently. "You should go to the party, Nate. Blair will be glad to see you."

"Blair and I are broken up," he reminds her.

"Do you love her?"

"Of course," he says, agitated.

"Blair is a wonderful girl," Anne says. "From a very important family. Are you sure you want to throw all that away?"

"This is for the best," Nate insists. "We needed to take a break, okay?"

Anne sits back, folding her arms. "I just don't think this is the best time for that."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying," Anne says evenly, "that you should attend the party. The more you hide yourself away, the more people think you have something to hide."






It goes about as well as Nate thought it would.

The second he steps into the room there's a change, a slow muted wave of whispering and phones going off.

He looks for Blair without meaning to and finds her shoving her way through the crowd, making her way to him. Serena is at her heels, hand reaching out to stop her. Blair shrugs her off. Cameron's there too, Nate realizes belatedly, trailing after both girls.

Demandingly, Blair says, "What are you doing here? You weren't invited."

Mom made me do it probably wouldn't go over very well. "I wanted to, uh…see everyone. I missed you guys." At least that part's true.

Blair was always too good at seeing through his bullshit, though. That's part of why he ran, he knew if he went back into the reception all a mess Blair would know, instantly, and he couldn't do that to her.

"Well you're not welcome," she says, arms crossed. "I would like for you to leave."

Cameron slips an arm around Blair's waist. "C'mon, man. Don't make a scene."

"I'm not," Nate says, annoyed. "This isn't really your business, okay?"

"No," Blair says. "It's not your business. You left, which means you gave up your place here."

Nate's not used to being on the receiving end of Blair's wrath; the worst he ever got from her was a reprimand for eating on her bed. Mostly with him she seemed happy, and she used to smile at him in private like he'd never seen her smile at other guys.

Now she's so distant he might as well still be out of state.

"Okay," he says. "Okay. I'll go, alright?"

Blair doesn't relax an iota, raising both eyebrows expectantly. "Goodbye."

Serena won't meet his eyes at all.

There's some fuss going on at the door, some guy arguing with the bouncer – Dan, Nate realizes as he gets closer. It's Dan.

"Look," Dan is saying, "my sister is in there, okay, and I need to get her –"

They'd made some more awkward small talk the day before and then separated; Nate honestly hadn't given him a second thought since then. He finds himself intervening now, though, stepping up and saying, "He's with me, okay? Let him in."

Dan shoots him a grateful look. "Thank you."

"No problem, man." Nate realizes he probably can't walk right out now, though. "You were saying something about your – um, sister?"

"Yeah." Dan is scanning the crowd now, brow creased in worry. "She texted me, something about this guy, Chuck –"

"Not exactly the guy you want around your sister," Nate agrees. "I'll help you look."

Nate has the bonus of knowing Chuck's tricks, knows he won't be somewhere in the crowd; a quick search outside proves fruitless, and when he comes back in Nate realizes there's a staircase. It goes up to the roof.

"Hey –" He grabs Dan's jacket, tugs lightly on his sleeve. "Let's try upstairs?"

Halfway up, Nate notices Chuck's scarf and quickens his step, Dan after him complaining that this is wasting time – but when they get out onto the roof there's Chuck and a blonde girl who must be Dan's sister, Chuck pinning her down.

Dan rushes past Nate before Nate can react. "Jenny!"

Chuck turns, the girl slipping out from under him and launching herself into Dan's arms. Dan glares at Chuck, spits, "What do you think you were doing?"

"It's a party," Chuck says, dismissive as ever. "Things happen."

Nate is hovering back, unsure, mainly because Dan's rage is palpable and he doesn't know Dan enough to get in the middle of it. But he finds himself reaching out to steady Jenny when Dan lets her go, when Dan rounds on Chuck and hits him solidly, turning back with a loud curse and flexing his hand right after, cradling it.

"Dan, I want to go," Jenny says. She looks briefly at Nate, shifting away from him and closer to her brother. "Please."

Dan nods, shrugging off his jacket to sling around Jenny's shoulders, tucking her under one arm. He doesn't even look back at Chuck as he leads Jenny away.

"Friend of yours?" Chuck spits, hand pressed to his nose to stem the blood.

"You're an asshole," Nate says.

"You didn't seem to mind very much before."

It's true enough; everyone knew what Chuck was like and no one ever did anything about it.

"Yeah, well." Nate turns away to follow Dan and Jenny out, feeling suddenly ashamed by his inaction. "I guess I'm different now."

They make their way through the party, past Blair, whose jaw tightens at the sight of Nate. He just ducks his head and walks faster, doesn't want to start anything again.

Outside Dan hails a cab, making sure Jenny is inside before asking, "Want to share?"

"Yeah," Nate nods, though they are in no way going in the same direction. "Okay."

Dan offers him a tiny smile and Nate smiles back, feels something like reassurance – like maybe everyone doesn't hate him.

Staring out the cab window, though, the city is as dark and imposing as ever.






The next day at school Nate finds himself looking for Dan, seeking him out amongst the crowds in the hall. He's kind of embarrassed when Dan is in his second period math, way at the back of the room; Dan must have been in a lot of his classes and Nate never noticed him.

He makes his way towards Dan, dropping his bag onto the next desk. "Hey, man."

Dan's got earbuds in, so he doesn't even look up; amused, and maybe too bold, Nate reaches over to pull one out. "Hey."

Dan sits up immediately, back straight. "Hey. Hi. Hello. Hey."

"Four different greetings," Nate says, sliding into his seat. "Nice."

Dan smiles sheepishly.

Nate lowers his voice just a little, remaining casual, to ask, "How's your sister?"

"Uh, better, I think. She seems…better." Dan twists the wire from his earphones around his iPod, tucking it away. "Thanks for asking."

Nate nods and, after a moment, offers, "I'm sorry that that…happened."

Dan tilts his head, studying Nate curiously. "It's not your fault."

"Still." Nate drums his fingers on the tabletop. He's not sure why he said that, except that's it's true; he is sorry, sorry that it happened, sorry that Chuck was his friend once, just sorry in general. "How's your hand?"

"Ah, the hand." Dan looks down at it, fingers spread. "Sore. But fine."

The corner of Nate's mouth curls up slightly. "That was a pretty sweet punch."

"I know," Dan says, pleased. "Badass, right?"

Nate huffs a laugh. "Yeah, man. Totally."






Nate lies in bed, unwilling to get up and shower, get dressed, go to school, prepare for the Ivy mixer, sit through the interview, settle in to the rest of the life he doesn't even want.

He knows just how much his mother is banking on it too, can hear her voice in his head.

There's a plan here, Nate. Your father and I didn't work this hard so you could just make things up as you go along. Do you know how proud he'll be of you if you get into Dartmouth? And with your grades, you'll really need to charm the rep. Our family has an image to uphold, Nate, and you have to do your part.

Dartmouth. Law school. Blair. That was the plan. Nate never did have much say in it. Once he didn't mind so much, when he was younger and it seemed much farther off, when he and Blair were in love.

He dreams of California but he knows it's no real solution; he ran away once and it didn't make a damn difference, so he doubts the amount of miles away really has much of an impact. At this point he might as well just try to make his parents happy, they already have enough to deal with.

He goes through the interview by rote. It would be an honor, he says. I've grown up hearing about Dartmouth.

When the list is posted, he's not surprised to see his name there. It's expected; after all, it's part of the plan. He is surprised, however, to see Dan there too.

"Hey," Nate says easily, coming next to him. "You get the one you wanted?"

"Uh." Dan's finger trails over the list, tracing the space between Dartmouth and Nate Archibald with a little sigh. "No, actually. You did."

"Oh." Nate blinks at him. "You – you wanted Dartmouth?"

"Yeah. Yes." Dan shakes his head, grabbing for his bag and coat. "I mean. It makes sense that you would get it, right? Because I'm only, what, second in our class? And you're –" He seems to realize where he's going with that and chooses to finish lamely, "Not."

Nate narrows his eyes. "No hard feelings, huh?"

"Sorry," Dan says. "Sorry, I'm just. I'm frustrated." He shrugs, a jerky little motion. "Guess that's life when you're not a legacy."

"Just because you didn't get an usher position doesn't mean you won't get into an Ivy," Nate says, privately feeling like shit because he doesn't even want the damn position. It's just something he has to do, and he can't explain that to Dan.

"Yeah?" Dan raises his eyebrows. "And where did your parents go?"

Nate opens his mouth and shuts it, shifting from foot to foot. "Yale," he says after a moment. "And Dartmouth."

Dan gives him a kind of pointed look. "That's all I'm saying."

Nate frowns. "Look, man, you don't know anything about my family."

Dan bothers to look slightly abashed, but it's clear from the tightness in his jaw that he's not over this. "Just – just make sure you read his book, okay? So you'll have something to talk about."

Now Nate's confused. "Whose book? What are you talking about?"

"J.L. Hall," Dan says, enunciating slowly and clearly like Nate is somehow slow. "He's the Dartmouth rep. The book's called The Petting Zoo, here –" He swings his bag up, digging into it and emerging with a paperback with a graphic black and white cover. "Read it," he says again. "Okay?"

"Yeah…" Nate takes it, flipping through idly without really paying it any attention. "Thanks."

Dan nods at him and then exits.






Nate barricades himself in his room with the novel that afternoon, but he only gets twenty pages in before he falls asleep.






The mixer is about as dull as Nate feared, and it doesn't help that his mother keeps catching his eye across the courtyard and frowning like he's not doing enough. He can't help it; Nate has nothing of value to say to J.L. Hall, apparently, and whenever he tries the man looks uninterested.

Finally, in a last ditch attempt, Nate says, "I really love your book."

Hall's attention is captured. "What did you think of the epilogue? Some people really love it, but the New York Times called it a cheap cop out. Warner Brothers' is making the movie." He muses, "I think they're going to change the end."

Nate's barely listening, his eyes sliding past Hall and through the window, where Dan is ladling out punch to people. Huh. Looks like he managed to make it after all.

Hall clears his throat and Nate snaps back into reality.

"Well," Nate says, "I can see how the end might not be all that…commercial." His eyes are getting drawn to Dan again, who meets his gaze briefly before looking away. "Want something to drink?"

He almost knocks into Serena crossing the courtyard and when he offers her a quiet hey, she seemingly can't bring himself to respond. She only looks over his shoulder, maybe seeking out Blair.

"You're really not going to talk to me, are you?" Nate says. He'd almost be amused, if. "Literally, you are not going to speak?"

Brow creasing, troubled, Serena looks at him. "Hey."

Nate shakes his head – he cannot believe this – and just moves around her. Dan doesn't look much happier to see him, really, as he carefully fills two glasses. "So… What's he like?"

"Like a Dartmouth English Lit professor I have nothing in common with." Nate catches Dan's eyes and gives him an unimpressed half-smile. "Guess I could tell him how everything I have I got because I'm an Archibald."

Dan ducks his head, self-conscious, and Nate's smile turns a touch more genuine.

"You should mention Dr. Seuss," Dan tells him. "Uh, Theodore Geisel is his real name. Hall said he got the idea for The Petting Zoo from The Lorax."

Bemused, Nate says, "The what?"

Dan's looking at him like he's slightly nuts. "Um, you know what, never mind. Just mention that his prose style is influenced by early Faulkner." He hands over the glasses but Nate doesn't take them. "You'll be alright."

"Actually…" Nate tugs a little at his tie, loosening it. "I was going to get some fresh air. How about you take these over to him?"

They have a moment of bewildered glancing, Dan to Nate and Nate to Hall waiting outside then back to Dan. Nate nods a little, encouraging.

"Uh, alright. I guess I could leave my post unmanned for a minute or two." He keeps glancing at Nate like he thinks Nate is going to take this back, but Nate just smiles at him.s

Once Dan is outside, greeting Hall, Nate feels like he can leave; he's sure Dan will impress him with all that Seuss and Faulkner bullshit.

Of course, his mother's sharp nails are sinking into his forearm almost immediately. "Nate, where are you going?"

Nate shrugs her off. "Home. I didn't even want to be here in the first place."

"You made a commitment," Anne says. "Now, you go out there and –"

"No," Nate says firmly, crossing his arms. "I don't want to go to Dartmouth, Mom, and I don't want to go to Yale, or Princeton, or any of these schools. Okay? I said it out loud. Now will you leave me alone?"

Anne opens her mouth to respond but just then there's the scratchy sound of feedback from outside; Blair' standing on the platform, ready to announce this year's chosen charity. There's a glint in her eye that is not at all reassuring.

He finds out why soon enough. She's chosen to work with the Woodhull Center – the center his father's in. Which she announces to the entirety of the mixer, staring right at Nate. Everyone else turns to look at Nate too and he – he doesn't even know how she knew, they'd been keeping that private, it was supposed to be private –

And yet a part of Nate is almost glad. At least with it out he doesn't have to pretend anymore, right?

He deserves the humiliation for what he did to Blair, anyway, and she doesn't even know the half of it.

Still, he can't stand the staring. It's unbearable, like a spotlight, and he's out of there without bothering to see if his mother's okay. He's sure her wheels are already turning, figuring out a way to fix this one too.

He wonders if she'll still think Blair's such a great girl after today.

Nate's almost at the gate when he hears footsteps, jogging to keep up with him, and then his name, called.

It's Dan.

"What?" Nate asks. "You here to give me another lecture on everything I have?"

"No, no, I – are you –" Dan makes a small exasperated sound, seemingly at himself. He tucks his hands into his pockets. "You hungry?"

Nate stares at him, then laughs. "Yeah. Yeah, I could eat."

"Good. Because I, for one, am famished. Nothing quite takes it out of you like handing indifferent rich people glasses of non-alcoholic fruit juice for an hour and a half."

They go to a diner, someplace a few blocks away Nate honestly cannot remember ever noticing. Over burgers and fries, Dan says, "Uh, I just wanted to – to, uh, say that… If you ever need anyone to talk to – or not talk to – I'd be happy to do either."

Amused, Nate says, "Thanks."

"And…" Dan twirls a fry in some ketchup, watching it with complete absorption. "I know I said some things about you, and your world, and I'm sorry. I obviously don't know anything about you or your life."

Nate's nonplussed; he doesn't get Dan at all, the open way Dan says things, this easiness he has with confessing. "Thanks," Nate says again. Then he reaches over and steals half the fries off Dan's plate; after all, he's finished his. He grins. "I think my Archibald legacy has earned me some fries."

Dan laughs. "Could I get some on scholarship? It's what I'm used to."

"You have to write an essay," Nate says. "Something really meaningful, about your middle-class struggles."

"I am awesome at essays," Dan says. "You are asking the right man for that. There will be so much pathos in that thing you'll be giving me fries for the rest of my life."

Nate starts laughing again because Dan is kind of ridiculous, and flicks a fry at him. "I'll believe that when I see it."