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He catches Serena as he's heading to Creative Writing, and he grabs her arm gently, steering her into a less populated corner. She looks surprised at first, but relaxes and smiles when she catches site of an aggrieved-looking Dan.
"Dan, hi, what's–"
"You told Nate about the other day," he says without preamble, and it's less of a question and more of a statement. She looks instantly guilty.
"I did, yes," she says slowly, and in that moment, Dan is so glad that Serena is Serena and not Blair or Jenny, that she manages to answer a question without games, stories or evasion.
He sighs loudly, running a hand through his disheveled dark hair. "I know how you feel about lies, but he's going to think it was more than it actually was. He already did, until I set the record straight, as a matter of fact. Well, not technically straight, since that was, um, a lie, but I set it so he doesn't think I am a betraying betrayer who betrays." He realizes that he's babbling, and stops. "I just… when you tell Nate about secret meetings that don't actually mean anything, it bothers him because he really likes you and he's not going to go for you unless he's absolutely certain that you no longer have feelings for me. You get me?"
She nods, squinting slightly. "You know, I get that, I do, but wouldn't your life be much easier if you just dropped the pretense and let him know about you and Blair? If he knew how you felt, he wouldn't suspect you of having a thing for me. And then everyone would be happy."
"Not everyone," Dan corrects, looking at the ground. "And besides, there is no me and Blair. We kissed, once. We flirted harmlessly. She… might have showed up at my house this morning. But other than that? It's still just Chuck for her."
Serena takes his hand and says, gently, "And what about you?"
He looks up sharply. "What about me?"
"What do you want?" She asks, stroking his hand. He thinks about getting alarmed at the touching, but then remembers that this is just Serena's way of talking, especially to guys.
"I want… her. I want her, but I don't want her drama. I don't want to be the one she comes crying to when she loses to Chuck, when he fucks her around." He shakes her head. "And I definitely don't want to be her friend."
Serena nods, and her smile is understanding. Sympathetic. "I know how you feel," she says, and laughs her infectious laugh. "Well, not really, since I don't particularly want Blair… sexually, but I know what you mean about her mind games. And her thing with Chuck. No matter what either of them says, it's never really over."
He exhales messily, nodding, knowing only too well what she's talking about. "You're right. You always are. Thanks."
Serena smiles, releases his hand to rub his arm. "It's going to work out for you eventually, and you said it, I am always right." She wraps him in a loose hug, before releasing him, and pushing him gently in the direction of his next class. "Now run along before you're late again."
Dan sits at one of the canteen tables after class, trying not to groan. His Creative Writing professor hadn't been nearly as understanding as Kelsey, and her annoyance at him had probably contributed to her giving the entire class ten times more homework than she normally did. Which really is just fucking fantastic, Dan thinks, wanting to bang his head against the table repeatedly. He doesn't think this day can get any worse.
"Congratulations."
Dan looks up so quickly he thinks he might have given himself whiplash, and his eyes fall immediately on one Matt Dainard, all five feet seven inches of him, standing in front of Dan's table with a book and an unreadable expression. Yeah, he takes that back.
Dan blinks. "What?"
Matt slides into the seat across from him without invitation, dumping his books on the table with a surprising amount of finesse. "Oh, just you managing to anger Yates into giving us a fifteen thousand word assignment and three days to do it in."
Dan is about to mumble an apology when he replays Matt's words in his head. "Wait, I'm sorry, us?"
"I'm in your class, Daniel Humphrey. I'm one of your victims." But his voice lacks an edge, and Dan relaxes slightly.
"I didn't see you," he mutters, digging his fork into a piece of lettuce and bringing it to his lips. "But then again, I wasn't exactly paying attention…"
"I noticed," Matt says, and reaches across to swipe one of Dan's painstakingly procured crotons. Dan opens his mouth, but Matt continues talking as if there hasn't been an interruption. "And believe me, I understand. I'd slack off too, if I didn't have to prove myself to the administration…"
Feeling slow, Dan squints at him. "Prove yourself to the…"
Matt gestures at himself, chewing carefully on the croton. "Scholarship student."
"But you…"
"Argue with teachers and make myself disliked like it's my job?" Matt's tone is light, conversational, as he reaches across to snag a piece of garlic bread. Dan doesn't even try and protest, because he has to admit that he's intrigued, and he doesn't want this little chat to end just yet.
"Well, yes," Dan admits, curious. "Isn't that…"
"Stupid and irresponsible?" Matt cuts in, and Dan briefly marvels that the boy hasn't allowed him to finish a single sentence yet. "Probably," he shrugs. "But I need to keep myself entertained somehow." Placing his (well, Dan's) freshly buttered garlic bread on a paper plate in front of him, he frowns. "Columbia doesn't challenge me."
It's Dan's turn to lift a disdainful eyebrow, as he eyes him suspiciously. "Columbia's one of the top universities in, like, the entire world."
Matt nods, rolling his eyes with a sort of practiced weariness. "Seriously, tell me something I don't know. Or haven't heard one million times before, at least. Yes, I'm aware of that, but even the most prestigious college in New York has its pitfalls."
Dan shoots him a questioning stare. Truth be told, he can't think of a single one.
Matt tucks his scarf more securely around his neck. "You really want to know? The faculty consists predominantly of overqualified and yet tired and uninspiring never-beens that have failed in their first-preference careers and need a way to make ends meet. What's that phrase Braithwaite used before he turned into a rock star and changed lives? It was to be a job, not a labor of love. And that right there, Daniel Humphrey, is the problem. When you attend a university like Columbia, you want your money's worth. Or, if you're me, you want to enjoy the fruits of your labor, and trust me, I worked my behind off to get here. Those had better be some delicious fruit."
Dan blinks several times before reaching blindly for his coffee. It is far too early for this conversation.
"In conclusion," Matt says, wiping his mouth gracefully with the back of his hand. "I mess with teachers to amuse myself. Because I know I'll win and because there's not a whole lot they can do. And occasionally, it's for the greater good." He cracks a smile. "To get shmucks like yourself out of trouble."
Dan scowls and takes a sip of his nearly scalding coffee. "I was doing fine before you butted in, you know."
Matt's smile is condescending. "Of course you were. You go right on telling yourself that. And anyway," he says, stretching his legs out in front of him, making himself comfortable. "That's not what I came to talk to you about. I came to ask who this Blair Waldorf is."
At those words, Dan spits out of a mouthful of extremely hot coffee inches away from where Matt's pale hand rests on the wooden table. Matt doesn't even flinch.
"I'm sorry," Dan says, turning a dark shade of violet. "What did you just say?"
"Don't hurt yourself, Humphrey," Matt says, apparently amused by Dan's utter lack of table manners. "Or should I say, great knight?"
"How did you-" Dan manages, and Matt just shrugs.
"I have my ways. Miss Kelsey isn't too careful about what she leaves lying around."
And Dan suddenly isn't surprised that he managed to wangle a full scholarship, this boy could rival Blair in matters of subterfuge. He winces. Thinking about Blair hurts, just a little.
"Sneaky," he says, with feeling. "And anyway, I think you'll find that it's none of your business."
"Maybe not," Matt admits. "But I'll find out anyway. So you might as well tell me now and save me the hassle."
Dan sighs, placing his coffee down. There really is no way to win. "Blair's a girl."
"No, really?" Matt asks, dryly. "I was under the impression that La Belle Dame Sans Merci was of the male variety."
Dan has a sudden urge to smack him, and tries desperately to suppress it. "Funny. No, look, Blair is a girl I had a thing for. But… it didn't work."
"Why?"
Dan makes a face. "What do you mean, why? Because… it just didn't. Because sometimes things just don't."
"False. When things don't work out, it's always for a reason, whether that reason is known to you or not. If you and this Blair didn't work out, there has to be an explanation behind it. And I think you know it." Matt's smile is self-satisfied. Dan wants to wipe it off his face. With his fists, preferably.
"Even if I do know it," Dan says, exasperated. "I haven't discussed it with my closest friends, why would I want to confide in a total stranger, who, by the way, has no concept of privacy or personal space?"
"So was it one of her ex-lovers?" Matt asks, pretending Dan hasn't spoken. "The ones that tried to warn you of her devious ways?"
"Not quite," Dan says through gritted teeth. "Seeing as one of her ex-lovers happens to my best friend and the other happens to… well, yes, in a manner of speaking, they do contribute to the many reasons why we can never be together. I suppose you're right."
"I usually am," Matt says, not skipping a beat. "So the ex-lovers continually stand in the way of you and the beautiful woman without mercy. How to overcome this hurdle?"
"There is no hurdle to overcome, jackass," Dan says, feeling more annoyed by the minute. Mostly because this guy, whether he likes it or not, seems to actually be making sense. "My friend's a good guy and everything, but he just… he wouldn't get it. And her and this other guy have so much history, it's damn near impossible to break them up. Not that I'd want to. Because I told her this morning that we were over. Done. Not friends. Not anything else. So whatever you're trying to do will be in vain."
"Nice work," Matt says, and his words drip with sarcasm. "The kind of love Keats talked about in La Belle is crippling and life-altering. The lady in the woods drains you of everything – your happiness, your health, your will to live. When she leaves you, that is. But we don't live in a Keats poem. You," he says, jabbing a finger in Dan's direction. "Create your own destiny. Write your own love story. Make sure La Belle Sans Dame Merci isn't able to strip you of everything you hold dear and turn you into a lonely shell of a man."
"Enough with the theatrics," Dan pleads, his hands held out in supplication. "I thought English was your major. But honestly, I'm starting to think that maybe Drama's the way to go…"
"You're just annoyed because you know I'm right," says Matt, looking infuriatingly smug. "But not to worry. I have nothing to do for the rest of the year. You can be my project, and I can help you make sure that that doesn't happen."
Dan is not impressed.
"You are certifiably insane," he tells him, shaking his head. "I don't want to be anyone's project. I am perfectly capable of handling my own life. In fact, I think I've done a pretty good job so far…"
Matt snorts, and Dan looks affronted. "What do you know about me anyway, you insufferable prick?"
"Enough," Matt says, by way of explanation. "And I know that you need someone around to stop you from making a complete and utter mess of the joke that is currently your life. Someone impartial. Brutally honest. Possibly with a 173 IQ. Otherwise known as yours truly."
"Right," Dan says, shaking head at the absurdity of Matt's proposition. "And what do you stand to gain by this sudden inexplicable display of philanthropy? Toward a perfect stranger, no less."
"Reaffirmation that I am exactly as smart as I think I am and the satisfaction of a job well done. And boredom mitigation as well, I suppose." Matt tilts his head ever so slightly. "It's a one-time offer. Take it or leave it."
There is a long pause before Dan heaves a long-suffering sigh. "I'll need to see your credentials first, you realize."
Matt's grin is victorious. "I knew you'd give in eventually."