"Where'd you do your undergrad?" Foggy inquired over burgers in a just-off-campus tavern.

"St. John's," Matt said, wiping his greasy fingers on a napkin.

"St. John's? You play sports or something?"

"Yeah," Matt deadpanned. "All-American sharp-shooter."

"Oh, my God," Foggy groaned. "It's just... it's a big sports school, y'know?"

Matt was laughing harder now. "I'm sure the MLB is full of blind hitters."

"I do pride myself on my open-mindedness." Foggy took a sip of beer and set the glass back down on the table. "Okay then, I gotta ask-"

"Do you really?"

"I really do. Queens or Staten Island campus?"

Matt groaned. "Staten Island."

"You went all the way out to Staten Island for your undergrad. What'd you major in, Axe Body Spray?"

"Actually, I majored in Criminal Justice," Matt said seriously. "I minored in Axe Body Spray."

"And you lived over there and everything? Voluntarily?"

"You're giving me a lot of shit for someone who met me less than an hour ago."

"If I recall correctly, you welcomed it with open arms."

"The last time I welcomed something with open arms, I walked straight into it and chipped a tooth."

"Fair enough."

"So what about you?" Matt asked. "Where'd you go?"

"NYU," Foggy said. "I wanted to go to Chicago, but my ma freaked. It was cheaper if I lived at home anyway."

"You lived at home for your whole undergrad?"

"At least I didn't live on Staten Island," Foggy shot back. "How did we both grow up in Hell's Kitchen and never run into each other?"

"Well, you'd heard of me."

"Yeah, but our paths never crossed. What year'd you graduate?"

"From high school?" Matt asked. "Uh... '06."

"Weird. You go to public school?"

"No, I was privately educated."

"Your folks must've done okay for themselves."

Matt paused, licked his lips, debated how much of his story he was willing to tell right then. "Something like that."

"My old man runs a hardware store," Foggy said, snatching an onion ring off Matt's plate. "And it's like, you make your living selling screws, you have ten kids, and you wonder why you can't afford cable."

"Ten kids? Wow. Where do you fall in that order?"

"Sixth. I got two older brothers and three older sisters, then two of each below me."

"Sounds loud," Matt grimaced at the thought of growing up in a house like that.

"You got siblings?"

"I... grew up with other kids."

Foggy paused. Matt could practically hear the wheels turning in his head as he tried to process how this could be.

"Wait..."

"Orphanage," Matt quietly supplied. This was as far into his childhood as he was willing to go with this total stranger.

"Shit, man. I didn't mean to push."

"It's okay," Matt said, firmly. "Really."

"Listen, I'm stuffed," Foggy said, standing and pushing back his chair. "Let's go see what's going down back at the dorm?"

Matt extended his cane, and a hand to Foggy. "After you."