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第22部分（第2页）

How　far　our　golden　boy　has　fallen…。

He　opened　the　door　to　the　Sub…Zero　refrigerator　and　pulled　out　a　Jell…O　chocolate　pudding　snack　pack。　Not　bothering　to　get　a　spoon；　he　tore　open　the　foil　wrapper　and　licked　the　top　of　the　pudding。　It　was　good。　And　simple。　Just　the　way　life　should　be。　Life　only　got　plicated　once　you　started　interacting　with　people。　But　who　needed　that　when　he　had　food；　shelter；　and　plenty　of　pudding　and　Pop…Tarts？

Nate　reached　into　the　pocket　of　his　cords　and　pulled　out　the　roach　that　had　been　stuck　in　the　folds　of　his　pocket。　He’d　slept　in　them　last　night　because　it　had　seemed　like　too　much　effort　to　change。　This　was　the　last　of　his　supply。　He’d　definitely　have　to　call　Jeremy　or　Anthony　for　a　hookup；　which　was　unfortunate；　because　he　didn’t　want　any　human　contact。　He　wasn’t　very　good　pany　right　now。　Chips　was　dead。　He’d　hurt　Serena。　Blair　had　a　boyfriend。　The　three　people　he　cared　about　most　in　the　world；　and　he　couldn’t　reach　out　to　any　of　them。

The　past　few　days　had　gone　by　in　a　blur。　He　liked　the　way　the　hours　bled　into　each　other　in　front　of　the　television；　especially　after　he　fired　up　his　bong。　Oprah　had　featured　teen　entrepreneurs　the　other　day。　There　was　one　kid　who　made　jellyfish　tanks　instead　of　going　to　college。　Maybe　he　could　drop　out　of　school　and　do　something　like　that。

Nate　inhaled　deeply　from　the　joint。　He　sat　at　the　large　marble　island　in　the　center　of　his　family’s　French　country…style　kitchen；　feeling　contented。　Maybe　this　was　happiness。

And　maybe　someone　needs　to　change　his　pants　and　climb　out　of　his　pot　haze？

Just　then；　the　doorbell　rang　a　pleasant　three…tone　chime。　Fuck。　Nate　ignored　it　and　took　another　hit。　Then　he　felt　his　iPhone　buzzing　in　his　pocket。　He　slipped　it　out　and　glanced　at　the　display。　Chuck。

“Hello？”　Nate　croaked。

“Open　the　door；”　Chuck　said。

“No；”　Nate　said　lamely。　He　didn’t　want　Chuck　to　see　him　in　this　state。　“I’m　in　the　shower；”　he　added　nonsensically。

“No；　you’re　not；”　Chuck　responded　matter…of…factly　as　the　chime　filled　the　house　again。　It　didn’t　sound　pleasant　at　all　anymore。　It　made　Nate　feel　like　his　brain　was　going　to　explode。

He　sulkily　pulled　open　the　large　oak　door　and　crossed　his　arms。　Chuck　pulled　off　his　Gucci　aviators　and　coolly　appraised　Nate。　“You’re　a　mess；”　he　said　finally。

Thank　you；　Mr。　Observant。

Chuck　brushed　past　him　through　the　entryway　and　into　the　kitchen。　Nate　trailed　behind。　It　wasn’t　like　he　had　a　choice。　Chuck　wrinkled　his　nose　at　the　disarray。　A　joint　lay　on　the　counter；　a　pizza　box　and　some　random　takeout　containers　were　shoved　in　the　sink；　and　a　pile　of　dirty　shirts　formed　a　messy　trail　from　the　kitchen　to　the　winding　staircase　that　led　to　Nate’s　room。　This　was　what　happened　when　he　was　left　to　his　own　devices。　His　parents　had　gone　on　their　annual　vacation　to　St。　Barts　a　few　days　ago—they’d　postponed　their　trip　because　of　Chips’s　funeral—and　their　maid；　Regina；　was　on　vacation　until　tomorrow。

“What　are　you　doing　here？”　Nate　asked　lamely　as　he　kicked　one　of　the　T…shirts　out　of　the　way。

“Inviting　myself　over　for　a　cocktail？”　Chuck　said　sarcastically。　He　shook　his　head　in　annoyed　frustration；　as　if　he　were　disappointed　in　Nate。　Join　the　club。　Nate　was　disappointed　in　himself。

Chuck　walked　to　the　stainless　steel　Sub…Zero　refrigerator；　pulled　out　a　Corona；　and　pried　the　cap　off　with　his　teeth；　a　trick　all　Deep　Springs　students　learned　their　first　week　on　campus。　“This　will　do；”　he　said；　taking　a　small　sip　and　holding　it　out　to　Nate　in　a　mock　toast。

“Can　I　offer　you　something？”　he　asked　politely；　as　if　Nate　had　just　randomly　shown　up　in　Chuck’s　kitchen。

“No。”　Nate　shook　his　head。　“Listen；　Chuck；　I’m　kind　of　busy。　Why　are　you　here？”

Chuck　raised　an　eyebrow。　“You　know；　Nathaniel；　I’ve　been　thinking　a　lot　about　you；”　he　began；　as　if　he　were　ready　to　barrel　into　a　speech　on　philosophy；　like　he　usually　did　after　a　few　ginger　beers　back　at　Deep　Springs。　“You　won’t　answer　my　calls。　I　saw　you　partying　pretty　hard　on　New　Year’s。　And　you　look　like　you　haven’t　stopped；”　Chuck　said；　taking　note　of　the　empty　cans　on　the　granite　counter。　“What　the　fuck　is　up？”　He　perched　on　one　of　the　stools　and　raised　a　dark　eyebrow。

Nate　sighed。　Chuck　obviously　wasn’t　going　to　leave　until　he’d　heard　his　life　story。　“I　hooked　up　with　Serena　the　other　night；”　he　finally　admitted。

Chuck　raised　a　hand　up　for　a　high　five；　impressed。　Nate　kept　his　arms　firmly　at　his　sides。　Chuck　shrugged；　lowering　his　hand。　“I　fail　to　see　why　that’s　a　bad　thing。　After　all；　you’ve　known　her　forever；　you　lost　your　virginity　to　her；　she’s　always　been　there　for　you…。　I　mean；　what’s　the　problem？”

“I　know。”　Nate　sighed　heavily　and　sat　at　the　table；　his　forehead　cradled　in　his　hands。　He　was　just　so　fucking　confused。　Serena　was　great。　Blair　was　great。　Blair　had　a　boyfriend。　Both　of　them　hated　him。

“Technical　difficulties？”　Chuck　asked。

Nate　shook　his　head。　“The　next　morning；　I　brought　up　Blair；　and　Serena　just　totally　closed　off　and　kicked　me　out。　She　probably　thinks　I　still　have　feelings　for　Blair。”　Nate　paused。　“And　I　guess　I　do；　even　though　Blair　has　a　boyfriend。”

“You　have　a　hard　life；　Nathaniel；”　Chuck　scoffed。

“I　know　I’m　being　a　pussy。　But　every　time　I　e　home；　I　make　a　mess。　Maybe　I’m　better　off　not　ing　home。　Just　leaving　New　York　totally；”　Nate　said　bluntly。　Only　a　year　ago；　it　would　have　felt　extremely　gay　to　talk　about　his　emotions　with　another　guy。　But　now；　after　all　his　time　at　Deep　Springs；　he　was　okay　with　it。　Maybe　he　needed　to　get　back　there—and　never　leave。

“What　would　El　Capitan　say？”　Chuck　prodded。

Nate　sat　up；　suddenly　remembering　the　letter　Chips’s　sister　had　given　him。　He　hadn’t　felt　ready　to　open　it　before。　He’d　needed　more　time　to　process　things。

And　by　“process”　he　means　smoke　and　drink　himself　into　oblivion。

“The　letter；”　Nate　said　simply。　Maybe　Chips　did　have　something　to　say。　For　the　first　time　since　the　funeral；　he　felt　optimistic。

“Good　idea。　I’ll　let　you　be　alone；”　Chuck　said；　finishing　off　his　beer　and　sliding　off　the　stool。　“Look；　I’m　heading　to　Aspen　tomorrow。　You　should　e。　Or　at　least　promise　you’re　not　going　to　freak　out　again。　Okay？”　Chuck　locked　eyes　with　Nate。

“Thanks；　man。”　Nate　walked　him　to　the　door。　“I’ll　think　about　Aspen；”　he　lied　to　Chuck’s　retreating　back。　Then　he　ran　upstairs　and　yanked　open　the　top　drawer　of　his　Chippendale　desk。　He　pulled　out　the　wrinkled　cream　envelope。　It　felt　weighted　and　heavy。　Instantly；　Nate　knew　what　it　was。

He　slid　his　index　finger　under　the　envelope　flap；　ripped　it　open；　and　allowed　Chips’s　antique　silver　pass　to　drop　into　his　palm。　It　looked　tarnished　and　worn　and

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