Chapter Eight: We Will Forget Him

Heart, we will forget him!

You and I, to-night!

You may forget the warmth he gave,

I will forget the light.

When you have done, pray tell me,

That I my thoughts may dim;

Haste! lest while you're lagging,

I may remember him!

Emily Dickinson, Heart, we will forget him!

Serena, Dan and Nate sat around the kitchen table silently, still somewhat shell-shocked. Blair had gone immediately into the bathroom to take a hot shower, and had so far been in there for at least an hour and fifteen minutes. Dan checked his watch to make sure. It was amazing to him that the hot water even lasted this long.

"Do you think she drowned in there?" he asked, and it was only half-joke.

"I'm sure she's fine." Serena sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. "Relatively."

"Maybe you should go check."

Serena raised her eyebrows.

"I'm not going to go in there while she's in the shower," he explained in the tone of one speaking to a particularly dimwitted toddler.

"Fine," Serena snapped, flouncing out of the room.

She knocked tentatively on the bathroom door.

"Blair?"

She could barely hear Blair's response, so she opened the door. She blinked suddenly at the onslaught of hot steam. She closed the door behind her and sat on the closed toilet seat.

"You okay?" she called.

Blair didn't bother to reply. She was probably sick of being asked that, Serena realized. And it was a pointless question, since she so obviously wasn't okay at all. Serena sighed.

"Look, you know the plan now," she said. "You don't have to follow through with it if you don't want to, though I still think it's a good idea." She paused to wipe a strand of yellow hair, now damp, from her face. "I'm sorry we built it up so much," she added, frowning slightly as she realized her hair had started to frizz because of the humidity.

Blair was silent, so Serena tried a different topic.

"The three of us have to go to the store and buy food for dinner. We're going now, before it closes. Do you want anything is particular?"

"I'm not hungry," came Blair's muffled reply from behind the curtain.

Serena frowned. "Fine. We're leaving. But I'll make you eat something later."

She got up to leave and straightened her skirt, lingering for a moment, expecting Blair to say something. She didn't.

Slightly disappointed, Serena left the bathroom and the door swung shut behind her.

As she reentered the kitchen she found that Dan and Nate had gotten into an argument of sorts.
"I'm just saying," said Dan cautiously, "that it was actually ridiculously nice--and caring--of him to fly all the way to France to give money to a guy that hates him." He paused to consider what he had just said. "Wow. I just used the word 'caring' to describe Chuck Bass. I think hell just froze over."

"He's an asshole," said Nate angrily. "You shouldn't try to defend him."

"I think what he did today is very defensible."

"You don't get it," Nate said shortly. "He's just trying to control me; get me back, manipulate me to be his friend again by giving me money."

"All that proves," opined Dan, "is that your friendship means a lot to him."

"What the hell is this? Do you want me to back out of the plan? Is that it?"

Dan held up his hands in protest. "No, no--of course not. I'm just trying to give credit where it's due--"

"He doesn't deserve any credit whatsoever," Nate snarled.

"There's no need to get so defensive," said Dan. "But really, don't you think you're being a little harsh?"

"Harsh? After what he did to Blair!?"

"Leave Blair out of this. This is about you and Chuck."

"Maybe," said Nate darkly, "he was trying to get back in Blair's pants, impressing her by putting on a show of being nice to me."

Dan stared at him. "You sound like a jealous boyfriend. That's totally irrational."

Nate said something like "Hmmptf" and glared at Dan defiantly.

"Um," Serena cleared her throat, and both boys looked up, startled, "hate to intrude, but we need to go shopping for food now. Nate, you can drive this time."

Nate nodded wordlessly and stood up to put on his coat.

"Coming, Dan?" asked Serena when it became clear that Dan didn't intend to budge from his seat.

"No," he said. "I'll stay here and catch up on my economics homework."

Serena rolled her eyes and she and Nate left.

Dan sighed in relief; it was nice to have some time to himself, alone. Especially as Nate was pissing him off. He felt thirsty, so he took a glass off a shelf in the kitchen and placed it under the faucet, filled it with water. When he turned it off he realized that the house had gone suddenly silent; Blair had obviously turned off the shower. About time, he thought.

He wandered over to the sofa with his glass of water, sat down, picked up one of Serena's stupid fashion magazines and started to flip through it casually. There were many pictures of ridiculously tall, rake-thin girls wearing over-the-top designer ensembles and striking some very odd poses. One girl draped in what was advertised as "Oscar de la Renta eveningwear, $18,000" looked like she was about to topple over. Dan glanced back at the front cover of the magazine; it was called "Vogue," apparently. It was the kind of crap Jenny probably read, he mused.

His train of thought was shattered when he suddenly heard a very strange sound coming from the bathroom. He thrust aside the magazine. It was the sound of retching, he realized, followed by short, harsh gasps. His eyes widened, he stood up, he ran to the bathroom; his heart was beating a tattoo against his chest.

"Blair?" he thrust open the door, not even bothering to ask if she was decent. As it turned out she was wrapped in a white terrycloth robe; she was kneeling on the floor. Her thin frame shuddered, and her arms clutched the toilet bowl. He watched in panic as she emptied out the contents of her stomach.

She looked up at Dan, breathing heavily, and her eyes were red.

"I thought everyone had left," she said.

Dan knelt down on the floor and pried Blair's hands off the toilet bowl, took them in his own. They looked so small; they were wrinkled and pruned from being so long in water.

"Were you waiting for us to leave," he asked, "so you could do this?"

Blair gulped and looked away.

"So you know," she said quietly, "about my…problem."

"Yeah, Serena told me about it," said Dan. "She said it ended years ago."

A single tear rolled down Blair's cheek.

"When did it start again?"

"A few months ago," Blair whispered. "But just now was the first time…since we came to France."

Dan didn't need to ask why.

"I'm sorry," Blair hiccupped, looking sadder than he had ever seen her, and he couldn't take it.

He wrapped his arms around her, and she folded into him; her head snuggled in under his chin. She wept into his shirt, still trembling, and Dan hugged her tighter, not knowing what to do. His chest constricted, his heart tightened like an iron fist had closed around it.

"I overheard you and Nate, in the kitchen," came her small voice. "I stepped out of the shower for a minute to listen, when I heard raised voices." He could feel that her breathing had turned rapid and shallow. "And you're right. He loves Nate—" she was crying freely. "He really does!" She lifted her head to look at him for a moment, and her eyes were full of despair. "I've been trying to convince myself that he's incapable of love," she whispered. "I decided that he was a monster, that no one could get through to him, it wasn't that anything was wrong with me." She lifted her chin. "But that's wrong. He loves some people. He just doesn't love me."She let out a small cry of pain as these last words came out and lifted her hand to her mouth to stifle it."I'm not good enough—"

"No, no, no," Dan fiercely, and placed his hands on her shoulders firmly. He stared intently into her eyes, willing her to believe him. "That is a lie. Don't you ever think that again. You're perfect, Blair. You're better than anybody." She bowed her head again to rest against him, and he wrapped his arms around her once more, rocking her gently.

After a few minutes the sobbing had subsided. "I'm sorry," she said again. "You must think I'm pathetic." She sniffed.

"No, I don't," said Dan, stroking her hair, "and you aren't." They were silent again, for a while. Then he heard an intake of breath.

"I'll try to forget him," she said brokenly, her voice muffled by his chest, and he winced.