"What about you, Archibald?" Carter drawled with a smirk. "You must be getting a lot."

Chuck sensed Nate shift.

"No," he muttered.

Carter laughed. "Please. I thought you'd been with your girlfriend since you were in diapers? You can't tell me she doesn't put out."

Nate drew on his spliff, almost uneasy under the older boy's gaze.

"No, she doesn't." He looked at Chuck for confirmation. "I mean, this is Blair we're talking about."

Chuck grinned, but there was fondness underneath it.

"Snow White herself," he agreed.

Carter looked almost intrigued.

"Then what the hell are you doing with her?" he laughed. "If she's a frigid bitch, it's not like she's got much else going for her."

Chuck raised an eyebrow. "Have you seen how hot she is?" he enquired, annoyed. Everything Carter did was starting to get to him. Including his stupid smirk.

Carter just snorted. "Nah, she's too small." He didn't need to gesture to refer what he was talking about. "Seriously, Archibald. The little virgin thing might be cute, but let's be honest. She's uptight, frankly dull, and probably doesn't have a clue what sex even is. Why are you keeping her around?"

Nate frowned. The weed was taking it's effect.

He turned to Chuck, helpless.

Chuck rolled his eyes. "Firstly, money marries bigger money." Enough said. "Secondly, Waldorf is hilarious, and, most importantly, having that level of perfection saved for you-" he inhaled his smoke, smirking, "-Is hot."

Nate looked relieved.

"Yeah." He nodded, going back to his own joint. "And she's cute." He paused. "You know, when she's not being a bitch. Or freaking out."

Chuck smirked again, because the bitchiness and freak outs were what made her cute.

"Speaking of," he nodded, noting her unmistakable figure on the other side of the road.

She was either coming from, or going to, the sports fields - surprisingly, without Serena or the circle of minions she usually surrounded herself with.

Carter looked at her, at the way her figure had hardly filled out, and thought again that Nathaniel Archibald must have replaced brain cells with weed. Freshmen.

Nate looked at her, and saw through hazy eyes what Carter had pointed out, that she really was a bit small and, well, sort of lacking. But she was pretty cute, especially when she was on the other side of the road, and not able to tell him off for smoking or cutting class. And she was his girlfriend, he reminded himself. Always had been.

Chuck looked at her, and instead of smirking at the familiar sight that was Waldorf in her uniform, headband and all (one of his favourite sights), he narrowed his eyes, catching something not right.

Something he'd caught a few times now, just at odd moments, and he'd seen Serena catch too, seen her shake off, step around.

Because Chuck Bass was anything if not observant.

The white blouse was thin material, and, when it made him frown, Chuck realised it was probably the first time in a while she hadn't been covered up with her coats or cardigans.

Maybe it was that. Or maybe it was the wind that seemed to cut right through her, whipping her hair off her back and nearly knocking her off her feet.

Because Blair Waldorf looked too small.

She'd always looked a little like a china doll, but Chuck had never been afraid of breaking her, because that gleam in those brown eyes told a different story.

So now it made no sense that the wind alone looked like it might snap her.

"Waldorf," he called out to her.

Nate looked at him, eyes wide. "Dude," he hissed. "Why'd you do that?"

Carter laughed lazily.

Then she fainted.