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Serena glanced up at the entrance again。 If she didn’t e in five minutes; she was leaving。
That won’t be necessary。
Sweeping into the bar; not bothering to take off her oversize Louis Vuitton sunglasses; was Blair。 She wore a dark pair of skinny jeans and an oversize black sweater; looking like a more glamorous version of Katie Holmes。
“Blair!” Serena called; standing up and waving wildly。 Blair flicked her eyes to Serena’s corner; as if she were pletely uninterested or unimpressed to see her there。
Blair put her hands on her hips and glared at her former friend。 What the fuck was Serena doing here? First Nate; now this? That was it; she was never ing back to New York after this trip。 She’d have bagels FedExed to her in New Haven and deal with the Barneys at The Grove when she visited her mom in LA。 She could probably go through the rest of her life never ing to the city again。
“What are you doing here?” Blair finally asked。 She felt like hell。 She’d barely slept last night。 Chuck had been true to his word and had picked her up for brunch。 It might have been fun—Chuck had ridiculous stories about life at Deep Springs; and had done his best to avoid the topic of Nate—but Blair had been hungover and shaky and tired。 She’d been napping on and off all afternoon。 She probably looked like hell; too。 She was still wearing the same jeans…and…sweater bination she’d been wearing last night; but no way did she want to go back to her own hotel room and take the chance of running into Nate or Pete。 She was sure they were both gone by now—long gone。 But just in case。
“I wanted to see you。 Please sit down?” Serena begged。 Blair paused; but then reluctantly slid onto a leather ottoman opposite Serena。
“What is it?” Blair snapped。
Serena took a deep breath。 At first she wanted to tell Blair everything: that she’d been burned by Nate; that she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Dan Humphrey for two days; and that; most important; she was going to Yale。 But she didn’t know where to begin。
“Vodka soda?” the server said; plunking a tumbler on top of a pink star…shaped coaster。 “And what would your friend like?”
“Nothing。” Blair impatiently waved the server away with her hand。 “You came to tell me something?” Blair asked pointedly; as if she were conducting a job interview with someone who had absolutely no shot in hell of getting the position。
“Look; I know you’re mad at me。 I’m sorry。 I hate how we fight。 It’s so pointless。 And I wanted you to know—I’m ing to Yale next fall;” Serena blurted。 “We’ll be at the same school again—without Mrs。 McLean watching us!” she joked; hoping Blair would laugh; remembering their Talbots pantsuit–loving former headmistress。 Blair just raised her eyebrow and sighed。
The sound track at the bar suddenly changed to a cheesy pop song; reminding Serena of how much fun the two of them used to have; back when they would dance around her bedroom until they collapsed in a tired heap on top of each other。 Back before Nate came between them。 Serena managed a watery smile。 “Can’t we be friends?” she asked finally。
Blair stared into Serena’s large blue eyes; which looked so innocent and pleading。 They’d had so many fights; followed by so many teary makeup sessions。 For a moment; Blair wanted to throw her arms around Serena and tell her everything would be okay; that they would always be friends。 But that wasn’t exactly true。 Everything wasn’t okay。 Serena had stolen Nate; had cost her Pete; and now wanted to e to Yale—and who knew what she would do once she got there?
Blair stood up。 Maybe forgiveness had worked in the past; but she had to move forward。 And her future had no place for Serena。 Serena had taken Nate from her and now that she’d already lost him; she wanted to take Yale。 She could have it。 Blair wasn’t going to be around to watch。
“Actually; I’m going abroad next year; so we won’t really see each other。” She slung her Chloé hobo bag over her shoulder。 “’Bye!” she called; not bothering to look back。
Au revoir…
III
hey people!
a note to all you study abroaders
We know who you are。 We can hear and smell you from a mile away。 You’re the guys and girls who pronounce everything with a slightly clipped British accent; like Madonna; or roll your r’s even when you’re speaking English。 You’re the ones talking about how the siesta really suits you; or how a glass of wine with lunch really calms the nerves。 You’re the ones who won’t shut up about how much better your adopted country is—even though you’ve spent most of your first semester getting drunk with fellow study abroaders and you can only say one sentence in the language of your host country: “Where’s the bathroom?” or “toilet;” as they say in the U。K。
Don’t get me wrong—I understand the appeal of your international environs。 Take a look at B。 Even though a bevy of well…bred British boys have been following her through the medieval streets of Oxford; she’s been spotted drinking pints and sharing snogs with a fellow American… a very familiar one。 Is it just me; or are American boys that much sexier when they go abroad?
on the home front
I haven’t forgotten about all of you who stayed stateside。 My first subject: S; current cause célèbre at Yale。 Sadly for the Yale drama club and all the other school societies eager to claim her as a member; she’s practically a part…time student; hopping on the Metro North every Thursday afternoon after Moral Philosophy class。 Her destination? The Upper West Side; where she spends most of her time holed up with D。 Those two only venture out occasionally; blissfully disheveled; for pancakes and coffee on Sunday mornings。 Boring couple alert!
Meanwhile; V has been keeping a low profile at her Williamsburg loft; occasionally emerging to walk her adorable dog。 Whatever happened to that filmmaker boyfriend of hers? It’s an awfully big apartment for just one person。 N has been spotted out at Deep Springs; his eyes glittering for one girl only… a newborn albino calf named Gertie。 Or perhaps I should refer to her as Baby G? Finally; little J is back in the city for the holidays; last seen lunching at Balthazar and poring over college catalogs with her dark…haired; violet…eyed boarding school friend。 Is our little J all grown up? All I can say is; boarding school has been very good to her。
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