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He looks up from his cup to stare at Warren, who is all too busy with his plate to look back.
Nathan can't possibly comprehend how one person can manage both one of the Two Whales' fat-dripping burgers, and a large fries too. It seems grotesque to him, the amount of food these people are shoveling into their mouths continually. He's sat here long enough before to observe them - when he was skipping class, avoiding his father, or Mark - and yet it always astounds him.
He could never do it.
He never orders food from the diner, himself, only coffee. Well - he ordered it once. He'd been angry and tired that morning, never a good combination with him, and he'd taken revenge on himself by asking for a belgian waffle. Joyce Price had looked really surprised; when she came back with his order he already regretted his decision. There was no way he could eat all of this; it was dripping with sugar and syrup, the smell intoxicating, grossly so. Still he tried to force it on himself, a punishment of sorts for how miserable he felt, and had almost finished the plate when he had to get up and puke it all back in the toilets.
Nathan never eats sugary stuff. He despises it just as his mother always has. She spent a good part of his childhood telling him what not to eat in case it made him fat. He's never been fat, or perhaps only as a baby, but she always feared for him. He was good-looking enough, if one ignored the pale, sickly tone of his skin and the bags under his eyes, so he supposes it would have been a waste for her to let him get fat. She can't bear the thought of an ugly kid. Kris has always been good-looking and so should he be.
Though, over the years, as he grew, he noticed he kept putting on weight. His rational mind sometimes pulled through to remind him that it was normal - he couldn't grow taller without also getting heavier - but it was still asphyxiating to think of. He hated the numbers on his scale, hated the image he saw in the mirror, the uncomfortable touch of his own body whenever his hands rested anywhere on himself. It was why he started on the diet pills (later on, it's become more of an obsession, a way to get control on something when everything else betrays his grasp). They cut off his hunger, and they can't do any bad as long as he still eats sometimes. The fact he couldn't keep down the waffle proved what he already knew: he doesn't need food, and in fact, if he eats any he'll only get sick.
Yet there he sits, staring over at Warren, and wondering how in the world a normal human being could possibly handle this much food without sickness - and with all the appearances of pleasure, too.
"Y'sure you don't want something?", Graham asks. He's noticed him staring, probably mistook his disgust for hunger. Nathan shakes his head and adverts his eyes.
His gaze falls onto the new, pretty waitress of the diner. Joyce Price has left, just like David Madsen is no longer at Blackwell. He supposes they might've moved from Arcadia Bay, to somewhere that didn't bring up those memories, didn't protect the one that killed their daughter. The waitress catches him staring, just as Warren has, and gives an uneasy smile before walking over (scared, probably, or uncomfortable at least, as everyone is around him).
"Do you need something?", she asks. Why are they all teaming up on him to make him eat? He's fine with his coffee. Begrudgingly following his therapist's suggestions, he's even added cream into it, which he never did before. He shakes his head.
"I'll have a Sundae, please", Warren asks, and Nathan's eyes turn to him with disbelief. There's no way he could have room for any more.
"What?", he continues, defensive. "They're great. You should try it."
Nathan wants to answer, but cuts himself off as the door to the diner opens and loud kids walk in. Justin, Luke and Trevor; the skater guys. They never had any power upon Nathan before, but with his recent falling out of the higher social spheres, they're free to take revenge on him for all the crass he's inflicted upon them, and while Justin and Trevor seem too careless (or high) to even consider it, Luke doesn't let the opportunity go. He's been tripping him in the hallways and writing bullshit on his slate daily. Rather than make Nathan mad, it considerably surprises him each time. He has no experience being on the other side of the metaphorical gun, and frankly doesn't like it one bit. Though, with no other power than his tongue and his fists to back him up anymore, he finds himself unable to reciprocate. It feels like the whole school is just waiting for an excuse to lynch him, so he can't afford to get into a fight.
He looks down at his cup again as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. He has experience with bullies from being one himself, and knows that eye contact can be an easy set-off for a confrontation, so it's easier to pretend he isn't here at all. Hopefully they won't start anything with Warren here.
The excuse for dragging him back into this shithole of a diner was "studying", but they haven't been doing any of that. The only thing Nathan has studied is the ridiculous size of Warren's meal, while the guy insists on telling him about one thing or another he doesn't care for enough to listen. He guesses this therefore qualifies as "hanging out".
He keeps in a sigh as the skater kids move past them and sit in the booth behind theirs. Too close; scary. He looks up again.
"Are you nearly done?", he asks, and his tone has some of his usual bite again, demanding and harsh almost like it used to be, except not quite.
"Gee, just let me finish." Visibly, Warren has no idea how stressful sitting so close to Luke was. Figures. The guy can't take a hint worth shit.
"Finish faster, I'm ready to bounce."
Warren says something that sounds very closely like a frustrated "bounce off my dick" through another mouthful of food. Gross. Nathan downs his coffee in one swig.
Graham finishes his sundae what feels like an eternity later, and they both stand. Nathan somewhat wants to grab onto his arm and hold on tight, for comfort, but to hell if he ever does that. He can't handle another minute in the diner's choking athmosphere, so he just shoves a few bills in Warren's hand to pay and hurries outside.
He makes it to Warren's car before realizing he can't get in it without the keys, and just leans against it to wait. He doesn't hear Luke approaching before it's far too late to make a quick escape.
"Hey", Luke shouts, aggressive, not much of a greeting and more a way to get his attention. He turns to look at him all too fast, with a slight jump.
"So you're scared of me now?", Luke continues, his tone half victory and half disbelief. Clearly he's still incredulous at the threat he holds over the once all-powerful Nathan Prescott.
"I'm not scared of anyone", Nathan says, because it's the only answer there is. He can't just admit to being afraid. Still, he lets out a pathetic yelp as he gets pushed against the car.
"Yeah, right. Look at you, you're practically shaking. Big daddy ain't protecting you anymore?" In a blur of panic, Nathan tries to push him away, though it doesn't amount to anything. "I always said you'd get your bad karma eventually."
There's going to be a fight, Nathan realizes with horror. Luke is getting heated up, and he's going to hit him, and then he'll have to hit back. Then the whole school, no, the whole town will blame him for it. He doesn't want a fucking fight.
But there's another solution, he observes as he cowers, his head down to prepare for an impact surely to come. He can let Luke beat him up, refuse to fight back; it'll hurt, but nobody will be able to say it was his fault - or, well, people will, but not all of them at least, so that's already something.
Luke raises his fist, and he closes his eyes, and he feels pain shoot through his cheek and his jaw as the first hit comes.
There's a shout, but it doesn't come from him.
He prepares for a second shock, but it doesn't come. Instead Luke pulls away from him - or rather, is pulled away, and as he opens his eyes again he sees Warren dragging him back into the parking lot. Another angry shout, from Luke this time, and a loud, sickening sound as Warren headbutts him. Skater kid down, Nathan thinks fuzzily. The left side of his face is on fire.
He pays attention to the pain for a second, and the next Warren is on Luke, hitting him again and again, and Nathan realizes distantly that he has to stop him. He considers not doing it for a moment, just letting Luke get it, but that would only be trouble later, so he takes a few hurried steps and grabs the back of Warren's shirt to bodily pull him up. There's little resistance, just a grunt from him, and Nathan says something like "it's not worth it" or "don't bother yourself" but he isn't quite sure what he said. The world is very loud in his ears.
Seconds pass in a flash.
He sits in the passenger seat as Warren drives away furiously. Theres blood on his knuckles, fingers strained on the wheel; Nathan holds his cheek pensively.
"You totally owe me one", Warren says. He doesn't sound angry, even though Nathan thought he would be for dragging him into this.
"I do."
"You should come with me to the drive-in. They're showing Blade Runner."
He doesn't answer at first. He's never went to the drive-in; if he wants to go see a movie, he has a great projector for it. But he guesses he does owe Warren a favor.
"Fine."
"You're paying for the popcorn."
He stares in disbelief. There's blood on this guy, someone else's blood, and he's still talking about drive-ins and popcorn.
"Alright."
Warren gives him a cheeky smile, and he doesn't know if he should be amused or terrified.