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When you're Jude Archibald, the illegitimate French-American son of Nathaniel Archibald, each morning is new and unique. Or...well, not really. Eight grade is hard. The school-work comes easily enough, and he's getting along fairly well with his drum lessons, and his poetry isn't half bad, so says his best friend. Even if she does ask really hard questions about which girl they seem to be about. Damn, can Grace be oblivious sometimes.
It's Grace that makes eight grade difficult. Jude's awkwardly gawky right now, all hands and feet, not quite filled out the way he's supposed to be. He'll wind up taller and more filled out than his father by quite a bit. But right now, he's starting a growth spurt, and not all of him has quite caught up with the idea yet.
He's not scrawny like Bryant is, right now. No, he's still got enough chunk on him to be probably the heaviest out of all of the group. Later, again, he'll turn most of it to muscle, and look damn good, but right now, he just is the slightly pudgy one. The one that sits near the back, the one that grew his hair out well past school regulations just to hide part of his terrible breakouts.
In other words, he's got the really shitty end of puberty hitting him hard and kicking him while he's down.
If it weren't for Grace, and her dynamic ability to put him at ease, he may have drawn back from all his friends completely, and shut down. Instead, he's got her, and Harrison, mainly, and then Bryant to a lesser degree. Of course he'll always have Jamie, but, it's different with your brother.
Which is why, as awkward as he feels, and as miserable as it makes him, he's heading to the spring dance. No, he's not escorting the girl he wants to be with. He's with one of her girlfriends. He'd agreed to it as a favor to Grace, and because being there with Jeanette meant he could keep an eye on Thomas, Grace's date.
He feels like a fish out of water in a tuxedo. His dad grins at him lopsidedly. "I remember my first dance," his dad starts. Oh great, another Blair Bass story. As if it weren't awkward enough that his dad used to see Grace's mom. At least as far as he knew they hadn't done it. It would be really weird if they had.
"Yeah, Dad. I really...Jeanette's not...," he starts. Nate just sighs and glances to Serena over Jude's shoulder. Serena rests a hand on Jude's shoulder, before leaning and kissing his cheek.
They both know what it's like to not be with the one you actually like, but being stuck with the friend.
"We're just going as friends. She already said she doesn't want a corsage from me," he explains.
Serena winces on his behalf. Nate looks more than vaguely indignant. That's just rude. So he's not...typical UES. So his breeding is a little unconventional...so he's got a tiny bit of a belly and he's stressed himself into a breakout...he's a good kid, and special.
Serena takes a deep breath before turning him around. "Do you want to go?"
He looks at his adoptive mother with earnest blue eyes. "I wish...I...I...I...I don't know." Oh, he does know. He wants to go with Grace. Wants to be next to his best friend. Be able to dance with her the way they'd practiced in her living room when he got to rest his hand lightly on her waist. She was so warm and soft---
"You don't have to go," Nate interrupts the thought. "If she's going to be that rude about it, I don't think you should go with her."
"I have to go. I gave my word to Grace."
Well, that explains all of it. Grace Kelly Bass, best friend, and unrequited love interest of epic proportions.
"Sounds like Chuck and Blair," Serena murmurs quietly to herself, petting at her son's hair. He may have been born to another woman, but he's as much hers as Chuck was ever her mother's son. More. He's grown up with Serena's...slightly unconventional ways. He adores her for encouraging him to march to his own beat. She intercedes on his behalf when he wants to do something that otherwise is not done in their society. She's the one that talked Nate into getting the boy drum lessons for a hobby, which sparked an interest in some of the other boys in playing instruments.
Nate nods slowly. "Alright. Just...take care of yourself. You've got your cell...if you need anything, give us a call."
And with that, Jude is off to one of the most depressing nights of his life. He sits at the table, watching Grace laugh and smile, giggle and...kiss...Thomas. It's all Jude can do to not throw up or punch him. He's touching Grace. Kissing Grace. The angel...
She bounds over to him, all cheer and radiating happiness as she chatters at him about how wonderful Thomas is. Jude pulls the silver, engraved flask his mother had saved, probably from some antique store, but it was old, and he liked it. He looks at it for a moment. He'd always carried it around, but hadn't ever drank from it, or from anything really. She rambles on, as he continues to look at it. He looks up at her as he tips the flask to his lips, letting the scotch pour into his mouth, swallowing it. It burns, but hell, shouldn't punishment burn?
Grace blinks at him for a moment. "Are...you alright?"
"I'm great," he says, taking another long swig. "I'm glad you're having fun with Thomas. I think I'm gonna...go for a walk."
That doesn't satisfy Grace. Especially when he stands without waiting for her reply, and walks away from her. She follows him. He's her best friend, and she doesn't know what's going on with him.
"Jude...what's the matter? I've never seen--"
"Well, I guess you don't know me as well as you thought," he interrupts her, suddenly angry with her. Very, very angry.
The tiny bit of lost on her face kills him. It kills him, but he presses through that hurt to face her. "What's wrong? Talk to me..."
"I...," another gulp of booze. The flask is almost empty. "I'm sick of New York. This fucking city....this whole fucking world."
Grace hesitantly puts her hand on his arm. He doesn't have it in him to jerk away from her touch. "Do you...miss France?" She knows that she does occasionally. She loves going to see her grandpas.
"No. I want...I want to go west. I'm going to LA for a music camp this summer."
She blinks. "You are?"
"Yeah."
"I thought you were coming with me to France..."
"I'm sure good old Tom will go with you. He wouldn't like me going with you." He does jerk away from her here. "I just decided tonight that I'm going. And I'm not changing my mind. Have a good night, and tell that bitch of a friend of yours I wouldn't have bought her a fucking corsage even if she wanted one."
The frown gets set deeper on Grace's sharp features. "What? What about Jeanette?"
"She told me she didn't want flowers from someone like me. Fuck this whole fucking town."
And with that, he walks toward his penthouse, and doesn't look back. Grace opens her mouth to call to him, as Thomas walks up to her, wrapping her up in his arms, telling her about how he's been looking for her. She goes back in, and soon nearly forgets how upset Jude was. But not quite.
It's Grace that makes eight grade difficult. Jude's awkwardly gawky right now, all hands and feet, not quite filled out the way he's supposed to be. He'll wind up taller and more filled out than his father by quite a bit. But right now, he's starting a growth spurt, and not all of him has quite caught up with the idea yet.
He's not scrawny like Bryant is, right now. No, he's still got enough chunk on him to be probably the heaviest out of all of the group. Later, again, he'll turn most of it to muscle, and look damn good, but right now, he just is the slightly pudgy one. The one that sits near the back, the one that grew his hair out well past school regulations just to hide part of his terrible breakouts.
In other words, he's got the really shitty end of puberty hitting him hard and kicking him while he's down.
If it weren't for Grace, and her dynamic ability to put him at ease, he may have drawn back from all his friends completely, and shut down. Instead, he's got her, and Harrison, mainly, and then Bryant to a lesser degree. Of course he'll always have Jamie, but, it's different with your brother.
Which is why, as awkward as he feels, and as miserable as it makes him, he's heading to the spring dance. No, he's not escorting the girl he wants to be with. He's with one of her girlfriends. He'd agreed to it as a favor to Grace, and because being there with Jeanette meant he could keep an eye on Thomas, Grace's date.
He feels like a fish out of water in a tuxedo. His dad grins at him lopsidedly. "I remember my first dance," his dad starts. Oh great, another Blair Bass story. As if it weren't awkward enough that his dad used to see Grace's mom. At least as far as he knew they hadn't done it. It would be really weird if they had.
"Yeah, Dad. I really...Jeanette's not...," he starts. Nate just sighs and glances to Serena over Jude's shoulder. Serena rests a hand on Jude's shoulder, before leaning and kissing his cheek.
They both know what it's like to not be with the one you actually like, but being stuck with the friend.
"We're just going as friends. She already said she doesn't want a corsage from me," he explains.
Serena winces on his behalf. Nate looks more than vaguely indignant. That's just rude. So he's not...typical UES. So his breeding is a little unconventional...so he's got a tiny bit of a belly and he's stressed himself into a breakout...he's a good kid, and special.
Serena takes a deep breath before turning him around. "Do you want to go?"
He looks at his adoptive mother with earnest blue eyes. "I wish...I...I...I...I don't know." Oh, he does know. He wants to go with Grace. Wants to be next to his best friend. Be able to dance with her the way they'd practiced in her living room when he got to rest his hand lightly on her waist. She was so warm and soft---
"You don't have to go," Nate interrupts the thought. "If she's going to be that rude about it, I don't think you should go with her."
"I have to go. I gave my word to Grace."
Well, that explains all of it. Grace Kelly Bass, best friend, and unrequited love interest of epic proportions.
"Sounds like Chuck and Blair," Serena murmurs quietly to herself, petting at her son's hair. He may have been born to another woman, but he's as much hers as Chuck was ever her mother's son. More. He's grown up with Serena's...slightly unconventional ways. He adores her for encouraging him to march to his own beat. She intercedes on his behalf when he wants to do something that otherwise is not done in their society. She's the one that talked Nate into getting the boy drum lessons for a hobby, which sparked an interest in some of the other boys in playing instruments.
Nate nods slowly. "Alright. Just...take care of yourself. You've got your cell...if you need anything, give us a call."
And with that, Jude is off to one of the most depressing nights of his life. He sits at the table, watching Grace laugh and smile, giggle and...kiss...Thomas. It's all Jude can do to not throw up or punch him. He's touching Grace. Kissing Grace. The angel...
She bounds over to him, all cheer and radiating happiness as she chatters at him about how wonderful Thomas is. Jude pulls the silver, engraved flask his mother had saved, probably from some antique store, but it was old, and he liked it. He looks at it for a moment. He'd always carried it around, but hadn't ever drank from it, or from anything really. She rambles on, as he continues to look at it. He looks up at her as he tips the flask to his lips, letting the scotch pour into his mouth, swallowing it. It burns, but hell, shouldn't punishment burn?
Grace blinks at him for a moment. "Are...you alright?"
"I'm great," he says, taking another long swig. "I'm glad you're having fun with Thomas. I think I'm gonna...go for a walk."
That doesn't satisfy Grace. Especially when he stands without waiting for her reply, and walks away from her. She follows him. He's her best friend, and she doesn't know what's going on with him.
"Jude...what's the matter? I've never seen--"
"Well, I guess you don't know me as well as you thought," he interrupts her, suddenly angry with her. Very, very angry.
The tiny bit of lost on her face kills him. It kills him, but he presses through that hurt to face her. "What's wrong? Talk to me..."
"I...," another gulp of booze. The flask is almost empty. "I'm sick of New York. This fucking city....this whole fucking world."
Grace hesitantly puts her hand on his arm. He doesn't have it in him to jerk away from her touch. "Do you...miss France?" She knows that she does occasionally. She loves going to see her grandpas.
"No. I want...I want to go west. I'm going to LA for a music camp this summer."
She blinks. "You are?"
"Yeah."
"I thought you were coming with me to France..."
"I'm sure good old Tom will go with you. He wouldn't like me going with you." He does jerk away from her here. "I just decided tonight that I'm going. And I'm not changing my mind. Have a good night, and tell that bitch of a friend of yours I wouldn't have bought her a fucking corsage even if she wanted one."
The frown gets set deeper on Grace's sharp features. "What? What about Jeanette?"
"She told me she didn't want flowers from someone like me. Fuck this whole fucking town."
And with that, he walks toward his penthouse, and doesn't look back. Grace opens her mouth to call to him, as Thomas walks up to her, wrapping her up in his arms, telling her about how he's been looking for her. She goes back in, and soon nearly forgets how upset Jude was. But not quite.