Page 15 of Gossip Girl


  “Okay. I guess I’ll just wait for her here, then,” Jenny said, snagging two flutes of champagne from a waiter’s tray. She handed one to Blair. “Will you wait with me?”

  Blair took the champagne, tilted her head back, and poured it down the hatch. The sickly sweet fizziness of it didn’t exactly jive with the raw fish and seaweed she’d just eaten. Blair burped queasily.

  “I’ll be right back,” she told Jenny, practically running for the powder room.

  Jenny took a sip of her champagne and gazed up at the crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling, congratulating herself on making it in there. This was exactly what she’d always wanted. She closed her eyes and finished off her flute of champagne. When she opened her eyes again, she saw stars, but still no Serena.

  Another waiter walked by with more champagne, and Jenny took two more glasses. She’d drunk a little beer and wine at home with her dad, but she’d never had champagne before. It tasted wonderful.

  Careful, it doesn’t taste so wonderful when you’re on your knees in the bathroom, throwing it up.

  Jenny looked around for Blair again, but couldn’t find her. The party was so crowded, and although she recognized a lot of faces, there was no one she’d actually feel comfortable going up and talking to. But Serena would be there soon, she had to be.

  Jenny walked over to the bottom step of a marble staircase and sat down. She could see everything from there, including the door. She waited, drinking both glasses of champagne and wishing her dress wasn’t so tight. It was starting to make her feel nauseous.

  “Well, hello,” a deep voice said, hovering above her.

  Jenny looked up. Her eyes settled on Chuck Bass’s aftershave-commercial face and she sucked in her breath. He was the best-looking boy she’d ever seen, and he was looking right at her.

  “Aren’t you going to introduce me?” Chuck said, staring at Jenny’s chest.

  “To who?” Jenny said, frowning.

  Chuck just laughed and held out his hand. Blair had sent him over there to talk to some chick, and he’d been skeptical. But not anymore. The cleavage on her! It was definitely his lucky night.

  “I’m Chuck. Would you like to dance?”

  Jenny hesitated and glanced at the door. Still no Serena. Then she shifted her gaze back to Chuck. She couldn’t believe a handsome and self-assured boy like him would want to dance with her. But she wasn’t wearing a sexy black dress just to sit on the steps all night. She stood up, a little wobblier than she’d been before, after so much champagne.

  “Sure, let’s dance,” she slurred, falling against Chuck’s chest.

  He slipped his arm around her waist and squeezed her tight. “Good girl,” he said, like he was talking to a dog.

  As she stumbled out onto the dance floor with him Jenny realized Chuck hadn’t even asked her her name. But he was so handsome, and the party was so amazing. This would definitely go down as one of the most memorable nights of her life.

  Yes. It would.

  the five and dime

  “I always drink rum and Coke,” Vanessa told Serena. “Unless I’m doing shots. But you have whatever you want. They have everything here.”

  Ruby was taking their drink order. Because she was in the band, she got them for free.

  “I feel like something different,” Serena mused. “Can I just get a shot of Stoli and a Coke on the side?” she asked Ruby.

  “Nice choice,” Ruby said approvingly. Ruby had a cool black bob with short bangs and was wearing dark green leather pants. She looked like the kind of girl who could take care of herself anywhere, anytime. Her band was called SugarDaddy, and she was the only girl in it. She played bass.

  “And don’t forget my cherry!” Vanessa yelled after her as Ruby left to get the drinks.

  “Your sister’s awesome,” Serena said.

  Vanessa shrugged. “Yeah,” she said. “It’s a pain in my ass, though. I mean, everyone’s always like, ‘Ruby’s so cool’ and I’m like, ‘Hello?’ ”

  Serena laughed. “I know what you mean. My older brother—he goes to Brown, and everybody loves him. My parents are always so into everything he does, and now that I’m back from boarding school it’s like, ‘Oh, we have a daughter?’ ”

  “Totally,” Vanessa agreed. She couldn’t believe she was having such a ridiculously normal conversation with Serena van der Woodsen.

  Ruby brought them their drinks. “Sorry guys, I gotta go set up,” she said.

  “Good luck,” Serena told her.

  “Thanks, sweetie,” Ruby said. She picked up her guitar case and went to find her bandmates.

  Vanessa couldn’t believe it. Ruby never called anyone sweetie except for Tofu, her parakeet. Serena certainly had a way of melting people’s hearts. Vanessa was even starting to like her a little herself. She picked up her drink and clinked glasses with Serena. “To cool-ass chicks,” she said, knowing it sounded seriously gay, but not really giving a shit.

  Serena laughed and tossed back her shot of Stoli. She wiped her eyes and blinked a few times. A scruffy-looking guy wearing an oversized tuxedo was walking into the bar. He stopped in the doorway and stared at Serena as if he’d seen a ghost.

  “Hey, isn’t that your friend Dan?” Serena asked Vanessa, pointing at him.

  Dan was wearing a tuxedo for the first time in his life. He’d felt pretty sharp when he first put it on, but he still couldn’t deal with the Kiss on the Lips party. So when Jenny let him blow the party off, he’d come to The Five and Dime to apologize to Vanessa for being such a dick over the Marjorie thing.

  He’d tried to convince himself it didn’t matter that he’d probably never see Serena van der Woodsen again in his life. After all, he told himself, life was fragile and absurd.

  Life was absurd all right. Because there Serena was. In Williamsburg, of all places. His dream girl.

  Dan felt like Cinderella. He shoved his hands in his pockets to keep them from shaking, and tried to plan his next move. He would walk over and suavely offer to buy Serena a drink. Too bad the only suave thing about him was his outfit. Even it was only half as suave as it could have been if he’d kept the Armani from Barneys.

  “Hey,” Dan said when he reached their table, his voice cracking.

  “What’re you doing here?” Vanessa said. She couldn’t believe her luck. Did it have to be quite this bad? Was she going to have to sit there for the rest of the night watching Dan drool over Serena?

  Sorry, honey.

  “I blew off that Kiss on the Lips party. It really wasn’t my thing,” Dan said.

  “Me too,” Serena said, smiling at Dan like he’d never been smiled at before.

  Dan clutched the back of Vanessa’s chair for balance. “Hey,” he said shyly.

  “You remember Serena,” Vanessa said. “She’s in my class at Constance.”

  “Hey Dan,” Serena said. “Nice tux.”

  Dan blushed and looked down at himself. “Thanks,” he said. He looked up again. “And that dress is . . . looks . . . pretty also,” he stuttered. He hadn’t thought it was possible to sound so idiotic.

  “What about my shirt?” Vanessa said loudly. “Have you ever seen me look this hot?”

  Dan stared at Vanessa’s shirt. It was a red T-shirt. Not very exciting. “Is it new?” he asked, confused.

  “Never mind,” Vanessa sighed, impatiently swirling the maraschino cherry around in her glass.

  “Grab a chair,” Serena said, moving over to make room for him. “Ruby’s band is going to play in a minute.”

  The rumors couldn’t possibly be true. Serena didn’t look like a sex-crazed, drug-addicted maniac. She looked delicate and perfect and exciting, like a wildflower you stumble upon unexpectedly in Central Park. Dan wanted to hold hands with her and whisper to each other all night long.

  He sat down next to her. His hands were shaking so badly he had to sit on them to keep them still. He wanted her so badly.

  The band started to play.

  Serena finish
ed her vodka.

  “Would you like another one?” Dan offered eagerly.

  Serena shook her head. “I’m okay,” she said, sitting back in her chair. “Let’s just listen to the music for a while.”

  “Okay,” Dan said. As long as he was near her, he’d do anything.

  as usual, b is in the bathroom and n is stoned

  “Hello, everyone!” Jeremy Scott Tompkinson said loudly, throwing open the doors to the old Barneys building.

  As always, Nate, Jeremy, Anthony, and Charlie had smoked a big fatty before the party. Nate was silly high, and when he walked through the door and saw Blair pushing her way through the crowd with her hand pressed over her mouth, he started to giggle.

  “What’re you laughing at, jackass?” Anthony said, shoving his elbow into Nate’s ribs. “Nothing’s even happened yet.”

  Nate wiped his hand over his face and tried to look serious, but it was hard to keep a straight face in a room full of boys dressed like penguins, and girls in sexy dresses. He knew Blair was in the bathroom, throwing up as usual. The question was, should he go rescue her? It was the type of thing a good, concerned boyfriend would do.

  Go for it. You know you want to.

  “Bar’s over there,” Charlie said, leading the way.

  “I’ll catch you guys later,” Nate said, pushing his way through the crowded dance floor.

  He ducked around Chuck, who was gyrating his crotch against the ass of a short girl with curly brown hair and insane cleavage, and headed for the ladies room.

  But Blair hadn’t made it to the ladies’ room. Before she’d gotten there, a middle-aged woman in a red Chanel suit with a “Save the Falcons” button pinned to it had stopped her.

  “Blair Waldorf?” the woman said, holding out her hand and smiling her best fundraising smile. “I’m Rebecca Agnelli, from the Central Park Save the Peregrine Falcon Foundation.”

  Talk about bad timing.

  Blair stared at the woman’s hand. Her own right hand was clapped over her mouth, holding in the vomit that threatened to spew out at any moment. She started to remove it so she could shake hands, but then a waiter walked by with sizzling skewers of spicy chicken, and Blair gagged.

  Blair squeezed her lips together to keep the puke from seeping out the sides of her mouth and changed hands, clapping the left one over her mouth and reaching out to shake hands with her right hand.

  “It’s so wonderful to finally meet you,” the woman said as they clasped hands. “I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done.”

  Blair nodded and pulled her hand away. Enough was enough. She couldn’t hold on any longer. Her eyes darted around the crowded room, desperately seeking help.

  There were Kati and Isabel, dancing with each other. There was Anthony Avuldsen, handing out tabs of E. There was Jeremy Scott Tompkinson, trying to teach Laura Salmon and Rain Hoffstetter how to blow smoke rings by the bar. There was Chuck, holding that little Ginny girl so tight it looked like her boobs might explode.

  All the extras were there, but where was her leading man, her savior?

  “Blair?”

  She turned around and saw Nate pushing his way through the crowd toward her. Nate’s eyes were bloodshot, his face slack, his hair uncombed. He looked more like a forgettable supporting actor than a leading man.

  Was this all there was? Was Nate it?

  Blair didn’t have much choice. She opened her eyes wide, silently asking Nate for help and praying he’d be up to the job.

  Ms. Agnelli frowned and turned around to see what Blair was staring at. Blair made a run for it, and Nate stepped in just in time.

  Thank God he was so stoned.

  “Nate Archibald,” Nate said, shaking hands with the woman. “My mother is a big fan of those falcons.”

  Ms. Agnelli laughed and blushed a little. What a charming young man. “Well, of course she is,” she said. “Your family has been very generous with our foundation.”

  Nate plucked two flutes of champagne off a passing tray and handed one to her. He raised his glass. “To the birds,” he said, clinking his glass with hers and trying to fend off an outbreak of the giggles.

  Ms. Agnelli blushed again. This boy was too cute!

  “Hey, those two girls helped plan the party, too,” Nate said, pointing at Kati and Isabel, who were standing on the edge of the dance floor, useless as usual. He waved them over.

  “Hello, Nate,” said Kati, tottering over on four-inch stilettos.

  Isabel clutched her drink and stared at the strange woman standing next to Nate. “Hi,” she said. “I love your suit.”

  “Thank you, dear. I’m Rebecca Agnelli, from the Central Park Save the Peregrine Falcons Foundation,” the woman said. She held her hand out to Isabel, who reached out with both arms to give her a drunken hug.

  “Excuse me,” said Nate, bowing out right on cue.

  “Blair?” Nate called, cautiously pushing open the ladies’ room door. “Are you in there?”

  Blair was crouched in the end stall. “Shit,” she said softly, wiping her mouth with toilet paper. She stood up and flushed. “I’ll be right out,” she said, waiting for him to leave.

  But Nate pushed the ladies’ room door open all the way and stepped inside. On a counter by the sinks were little bottles of Evian, perfume, hairspray, Advil, and hand lotion. He unscrewed a bottle of water and shook a couple Advil onto his palm.

  Blair opened the stall door. “You’re still here,” she said.

  Nate handed her the pills and the water. “I’m still here,” he repeated.

  Blair swallowed the pills, sipping the water slowly. “I’m really fine,” she said. “You can go back to the party.”

  “You look nice,” Nate said, ignoring her. He reached out and rubbed one of Blair’s bare shoulders. Her skin felt warm and soft, and Nate wished they could lie down on her bed and fall asleep together like they always used to.

  “Thanks,” said Blair, her lower lip beginning to tremble. “So do you.”

  “I’m sorry, Blair. I really am,” Nate began.

  Blair nodded and began to cry. Nate pulled a paper towel from the dispenser and handed it to her.

  “I think the only real reason I did it . . . I mean, that I did it with Serena . . . is because I knew she’d do it,” he said, grasping for the right words. “But it was you I wanted all along.”

  Nice one.

  Blair swallowed. He’d said it just right, exactly the way she’d written it in the script in her head. She put her arms around Nate’s neck and let him hold her. His clothes smelled like pot.

  Nate pushed her away and looked down into her eyes. “So everything is okay now?” he said. “You still want me?”

  Blair caught the reflection of the two of them together in the bathroom mirror and gazed up into Nate’s gorgeous green eyes and nodded yes.

  “But only if you promise to stay away from Serena,” she sniffled.

  Nate wound a strand of Blair’s hair around his finger and breathed in the scent of her perfume. It felt okay, standing there, holding her. It felt like something he could do. For now, and maybe forever. He didn’t need Serena.

  He nodded. “I promise.”

  And then they kissed—a sad, soft kiss. In her head, Blair could hear the swell of music signaling the end of the scene. It had started out a little rocky, but at least the ending was okay.

  “Come on,” she said, pulling away and wiping the mascara smudges from under her eyes. “Let’s go see who’s here.”

  Holding hands, they left the ladies’ room. Kati Farkas smiled knowingly as she tottered past them on the way in.

  “You guys,” she scolded. “Get a room!”

  s and d get down

  “This band rocks!” Serena shouted at Vanessa over the pounding drum and bass. She wriggled her butt from side to side in her chair, her eyes shining. Dan was having trouble breathing normally. He’d barely touched his drink.

  Vanessa smiled, pleased that Serena liked the music. P
ersonally, she hated it, although she’d never tell her sister Ruby that. SugarDaddy was all about people dancing and sweating and shaking their bodies around, which was definitely not Vanessa’s thing.

  She’d rather lie around in the dark listening to Gregorian chants or whatever. Yeehaw!

  “Come on,” Serena said, standing up. “Let’s dance.”

  Vanessa shook her head. “That’s okay,” she said. “You go.”

  “Dan?” Serena said, tugging on his jacket sleeve. “Come on!”

  Dan never, ever danced. He was bad at it, and it made him feel like a goofball. He hesitated, glancing at Vanessa, who raised her black eyebrows, challenging him. If you get up and dance right now, you will go straight to the top of my loser list, her look said.

  Dan stood up. “Sure, why not,” he said.

  Serena grabbed his hand and pushed her way into the gyrating throng with Dan stumbling after her. Then Serena began to dance, her arms raised over her head, kicking her feet out in front of her and shaking her shoulders. She definitely knew how to dance.

  Dan nodded his head up and down and waggled his knees in time to the beat, watching her.

  Serena reached out and clasped Dan’s hips, rocking them back and forth and around and around, mimicking what her hips were doing all on their own. Dan laughed and Serena smiled and closed her eyes, getting seriously down. Dan closed his eyes too, letting his body follow hers. It really didn’t matter that he danced like a moron, or that he was the only one in the room wearing a tuxedo—probably the only one in Williamsburg. He was with her, and that was what mattered.

  Alone at the table, Vanessa finished first her drink and then Dan’s. Then she got up and went to sit down at the bar.

  “Nice shirt,” the bartender remarked when he saw her. He was in his early twenties, with red hair, long sideburns, and a cute, sly smile. Her sister was always talking about how cute he was.

  “Thanks,” Vanessa said, smiling back at him. “It’s new.”