Will Not Remember, Cannot Forget

The best thing about wearing sunglasses is that they hide the direction you are actually looking. So long as your head is turned towards someone, they assume you are watching them. Like this girl in front of him now. Pretty, brunette, svelte. Totally his type, and yet not. Not at all. Because she is not her. The one he keeps staring at while pretending to converse with this other chick.

He nods as if interested in what’s leaving her mouth, but he could care less. Behind the dark glasses, his gaze focuses on the pool. She’s there, frolicking in the water, her wet hair falling like a sleek black curtain down her back. He is tempted to get closer, but like so many other things, he does not swim. Swimming requires removing more clothes in public than he is comfortable with. Stripping down to shorts and a tank top is quite enough exposed skin, thank you very much. Plus, from his vantage point in the lifeguard chair, he has a great view of her and those scraps of fabric some designer is calling a bikini.

Not a bad deal.

The corner of his mouth twitches, and the bimbo touches his forearm, laughing, thinking he’s responding to something she’s said. He isn’t, but he does glance at her. An amused expression lights up his face as he revels in his recent discovery.

Their outfits match. His and Blair’s. Both crimson and white, although he has stripes instead of polka dots, but then one doesn’t find polka dots that often in menswear. He knows. He’s looked. But that aside, if they were to stand next to each other right now, they would look like a color coordinated pair, and he hadn’t even had to plan it.

How perfect is that?

He’ll have to make sure someone snaps a picture of them together.

His eyes flick back to the pool, but she is no longer there. He tenses fractionally, scanning the area quickly for signs of Nathaniel. If she’s with him –

But no. There he is. Alone. Good. But where did she –

“Enough with the blackmail!” Blair spits from right next to him. His taunt shoulders relax, but he doesn’t acknowledge she has spoken. “Aren’t you bored already?” When he still ignores her, she hits his arm like a petulant child. “I can’t avoid Nate forever.”

With a sigh, Chuck removes his sunglasses. “Excuse me,” he murmurs to the girl who goes to his school but whose name he can’t be bothered to remember. When she walks off, he turns indulgently to Blair. “I didn’t say forever,” he drawls. “Just until the sight of the two of you together doesn’t turn my stomach.”

In other words? Never.

Blare fumes, radiating annoyance. “And when will that be?”

“Only time will tell I’m afraid,” he lies smoothly. “So unless you want dear Nathaniel to know you lost your virginity to me in the back of a moving vehicle, I encourage patience and restraint.”

Her lips curl upwards in a semblance of a smile. “Isn’t there someone else you can torture?”

How is it that her mere tone can cut him so badly?

Sliding his shades back on, hiding behind their tint, he smirks at her, patronizing. “Probably,” he admits, climbing out of the chair. “But I choose you.”

He strolls away, knowing she is watching. He can feel her glare burning into his skin. Perhaps it is time to fight fire with fire? See how she likes being unappreciated? But how? Who has the power to make Blair Waldorf jealous?

And there, rounding the corner is his answer.

Serena.

Excellent.

If the ice queen has one weakness, it is this. Her fear that she will forever come second to Serena.

Chuck struts over to the blonde, all the while feeling Blair’s hot gaze on him. “Why don’t I turn that one-piece into a no-piece?” he leers.

Serena makes a disgusted face. “Find a floatie to talk to Chuck!”

“You know,” he continues undeterred. “If my dad and your mom come back from South Africa tomorrow engaged, we’ll be brother and sister. And you know what they say? The family that plays together, stays together.”

“Ah… incest,” the golden waif nods. “The universal taboo. One of the only ones you haven’t violated.”

He grins. “Well, I’m game if you are.”

She leans forward, and for a second he thinks this might not work out like he intends, that she might actually kiss him. Her lips are dangerously close, and while he loves teasing Serena about them hooking up sometime, he doesn’t really desire her that way. She’s… Well she’s like a sibling. They share too much history. Too much Georgina.

He is about to pull back, when suddenly she strikes out, knocking his martini from his hand, before stalking off in a huff.

Good old, S. He should not have doubted her, and that little show should be enough to shake Queen B’s confidence. And if not, he can certainly make something up, elaborate ever so slightly. Now all that’s left is to give her an opportunity to corner him without making it seem like he is doing it deliberately.

Threading through the crowd slowly, he makes his way to the showers. He goes into one of the bathroom stalls and waits. Sure enough, he soon hears soft footsteps enter the locker room in his wake. Kicking the flusher with a triumphant smirk, he steps out.

“What was that?” Blair demands immediately.

Nonchalantly, he walks over to the sink, washing his hands as if he had truly used the toilet instead of just standing by it. “What was what?” he asks innocently, although he is more than positive why she is so distressed.

“You were trying to flirt with Serena!” she accuses.

“Correction. I wasn’t trying. I was,” he clarifies with a cocky grin. “And she nearly kissed me.” It isn’t precisely true, but Blair doesn’t need to know that.

Her mouth drops in outrage. “She did not. She would never!”

“She would,” Chuck counters. “And she has.” Also not completely honest. They have kissed, but only during party games, and well… one evening he would rather not recall, and really such details are not worth mentioning right now in front of the angry Waldorf. “We both know she’ll do it again. It’s just a question of when.”

“The answer is never!” Blair bristles. “She hates you, and she has a boyfriend.”

“Well maybe both those facts will escape her mind like they seem to escape yours.”

Quicker than he can react, her palm flashes out. It connects sharply with his cheek. The sound echoes against the tiled walls.

Slowly, he rotates his head back to look at her. Already, the side of his face is starting to go numb. His eyes blaze with suppressed emotion. “You get one free. That was it,” he grinds out.

She glowers, refusing to back down. “Serena’s my best friend. You stay away from her!”

“And Nate is my best friend. Take your own advice,” he sneers, crowding her space, nearly touching her.

She raises her chin defiantly. “And you’re lying about kissing Serena. She would have told me.”

He gloats, “Like she told you about Nate?”

Blair’s composed expression falters. “I…”

“Serena keeps secrets,” Chuck reminds her, his voice cruel. “You know she does, and you don’t know the Serena I know. Do you really think in all the years we ran in the same circles that it never happened? That we never made out? Never fucked?”

Her breath catches in her throat, her lips becoming rigid, warm brown eyes blinking a bit too rapidly. “But you…” she mutters, virtually inaudible. “You were…”

“I was what?” he snaps. “The one thing she’s never taken from you? The only guy that ever wanted you over her?”

She flinches from his words, resentment flashing across her face. And something else. Something more. Keener than mere envy. Pain. The kind that only old wounds can bring. Then she’s pushing at him, trying to flee, and he realizes that he took things too far, that using this particular insecurity against her was not wise. Serena is the weak spot in Blair’s armor, the same way Nate is his, and friendship or not, some hurts never heal.

Fuck.

“Blair, wait! Stop!” he urges, wrapping his arms around her to prevent her escape. “Blair! Blair, look at me!”

“Leave me alone!” she cries, tiny fists pounding his chest. “Don’t touch me!”

“Look at me, damn it!” he begs as she struggles to free herself. “I haven’t been with Serena, okay? I’ve never been with Serena!”

He isn’t positive she’s heard him, or if she believes him if she has, but the fight goes out of her. With a sob she slumps against him, his embrace the only thing keeping her upright.

“Blair, I’m sorry,” he murmurs, cradling her. “I’m so sorry. Serena and I haven’t ever done anything. I shouldn’t have hinted otherwise. I don’t even want Serena.”

She whimpers into his shirt. “Everyone wants Serena.”

He loosens his hold on her just enough to peer down at her. “Not me,” he confesses. “I never have. Not really.”

She sniffles, a lone tear falling. “That’s not true. You went after her. In ninth grade.”

Chuck brushes her jaw with his knuckles, tucking a damp strand of hair behind her ear. “Yes,” he breathes. “But even then she was just another piece I needed to knock over on my way to take the queen.”

“She was the queen,” Blair snorts, a surprisingly bitter sound.

“Not to me,” he assures her. “Never to me. It’s always been you, princess. Don’t you see that?”

“But… But Serena – ”

“Serena is like a firework, okay?” he growls, pulling her tighter against him, pressing their foreheads together. “Dazzling for a brief moment, and then forgotten. You? You’re like a star, shining brightly night after night.”

“But there are tons of stars,” she whispers.

He laughs gently at that, hands stroking along her spine, fingers caressing, molding her body to his. “Yes, but only one of them points north,” he teases. “That’s you, Blair. The star that stands out amongst the rest. The one that leads you safely home.”

She moistens her lips, gaze darting to his own so very close. “Chuck, I…”

He swallows, thumbs grazing the knot of her swimsuit at the nape of her neck. Abruptly, he steps away from her. “You should return to the party, Waldorf.”

“I… What?” she asks, her brow furrowed in confusion.

“Go back to the party. You’ll be missed. Someone will notice you’re gone.”

Shaking her head in bafflement, she walks towards the door, then pauses. “Is that it?”

His heart clenches. “Is that what?”

She turns to look at him, still standing by the sinks. “You weren’t… You weren’t even going to – “ Her voice stops, her mouth pressed into a grim line. “Never mind.”

“Wait a minute,” he calls, spring after her. “Why are you acting like that?”

She gives a weary sigh. “I’m not acting like anything.”

“Yes, you are,” he retorts. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re pissed.”

“Hardly,” she denies, her eyes not matching her mouth.

“You are!” he exclaims, grabbing her shoulders. “Why?”

She attempts to jerk from his grasp. “Just let me go,” she hisses.

“Not until you tell me why you’re upset,” he says, searching her face, a thought slowly taking shape. “Are you mad I didn’t try to kiss you?”

“Of course not!” she scoffs. “Don’t be ridiculous!”

“Look me in the eyes and say that,” he dares, staring back at her steadily.

She glares at him fiercely. “I… I don’t want…” she replies determinedly, but the words soon trail away. She can’t meet his gaze.

He smiles, appearing so boyish for a second, before moving swiftly, cupping her cheek with one hand, burying the other in her wet tresses, bringing her lips to his with subtle force. She shivers as his tongue invades her mouth, reclaiming every inch of her. She moans, deepening the kiss, but then she wrenches herself away, slapping at his chest.

“What the fuck, Waldorf?” he snarls. “I don’t kiss you, you get angry. I do kiss you, you get angry. What the hell do you want from me, Blair?”

She gasps, wilting under his display of temper. “I… I don’t know!” she wails suddenly, running from the locker room as if chased by demons.

Chuck watches her go, raking his fingers roughly through his hair with a curse. “Well then,” he mutters to himself. “We’re both fucked, aren’t we?”