Gossip Girl, Psycho Killer

by Cecily von Ziegesar

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

  Jenny polished off her champagne. Another waiter walked by with more full glasses, and she grabbed two. She’d never had champagne before. It tasted wonderful.

  The party was crowded, but there was no one to talk to. Jenny carried her champagne over to the bottom step of a marble staircase and sat down. If only her dress weren’t quite so tight. She continued to drink, taking in the sparkling room and congratulating herself for making it there.

  Two pigskin-loafered feet appeared beside her on the step.

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

  Jenny looked up. Her eyes settled on Chuck Bass’s handsome gold monogrammed eye patch–bedazzled face. She sucked in her breath. He was the most dashing 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 frowned in confusion.

  He just laughed and held out his hand. The cleavage on her! “I’m Chuck Bass. Would you like to dance?”

  Jenny hesitated, but only for a second. She wasn’t wearing a sexy black dress just to sit on the steps by herself all night. She stood up, feeling a little wobbly after all that champagne.

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

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

  Jenny stumbled and swayed against Chuck as they danced. This boy was so handsome, so debonair. The music was amazing. This party was amazing. This would definitely go down as one of the most memorable nights of her life.

  If she survived.

  the five and dime

  “Have whatever you want,” Vanessa told Serena. “It’s on the house.”

  Ruby took their order. Because she played bass in the band, she got drinks for free.

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

  “Your sister’s awesome,” Serena said, admiring Ruby’s cool black bob and dark green leather pants.

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

  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, psycho killer.

  Ruby brought them their drinks. “Okay guys, I gotta go set up.”

  “Good luck,” Serena told her.

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

  Un-fucking-believable, Vanessa thought. 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 her glass against Serena’s. “To coolass 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 said, pointing.

  Dan was wearing a tuxedo for the first time in his life. He’d felt pretty sharp when he first put it on, but not sharp enough to deal with Kiss Me or Die. After dropping Jenny off he’d asked the cab to head over to the Five and Dime, hoping Vanessa would accept his apology for being such a dick about the movie.

  On the ride over he’d tried to convince himself that it didn’t matter that he’d probably never see Serena van der Woodsen again. He’d heard a strange rumor that she was dead anyway.

  The meter ran out.

  Life is fragile and absurd.

  This love never dies.

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

  Dan felt like Cinderella, in a tuxedo. 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. And it was only half as suave as it would 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 demanded. 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? The bowie knife was still in Serena’s pretty black patent leather clutch. Vanessa had told her to keep it in there until it was time to part ways. She could whip it out now and put Dan out of his drooling misery.

  “I blew off Kiss Me or Die,” Dan explained. “Not my thing.”

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

  Dan clutched the back of Vanessa’s chair for balance.

  Heart!

  You there.

  That wasn’t life—this is.

  “Hey,” he greeted her shyly.

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

  “Nice tux,” Serena said.

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

  When he stopped talking and starting writing depressing haikus instead?

  “What about my shirt?” Vanessa said loudly. She stood up and twirled around. “Have you ever seen me look this hot?”

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

  “Never mind.” Vanessa collapsed in her chair, her eyes on Serena’s purse. Who to stab—Dan or Serena? Both?

  “Come, sit.” Serena moved over to make room for Dan. “The band is going to start soon. I hear it gets pretty rough.”

  The rumors couldn’t possibly be true, Dan thought. Serena didn’t act like a sex-crazed, drug-addicted, maniacal murderess. 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 love poems in her ear all night.

  Sweet forget-me-not.

  I’ll slit my throat now, smiling.

  Forget me—never.

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

  The band started to play. Ruby let out a bloodcurdling yowl and slammed heads with the drummer. Serena finished her vodka.

  “Want some more?” Dan offered eagerly.

  She shook her head. “Let’s just listen to the music for a while.”

  She sat back in her chair. Their elbows touched. Ruby let out another yowl and threw her black steel-toed combat boots into the audience.

  Dan pressed his elbow against Serena’s as hard as he dared. She could kill him now and he would die happy.

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

  “Let the festivities commence!” Anthony Avuldsen cried, throwing open the doors to the Katherine Farkas and Isabel Coates Memorial House.

  As always, Nate, Anthony, and Charlie had smoked a big fattie 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 clapped over her mouth, he started to giggle. Rumor had it that Blair had stabbed Serena, which was why Serena had been out of school all week. An
d Serena hadn’t responded to either one of his two stoned texts. But sometimes you just had to laugh. Blair, with her weak stomach, actually stabbing anyone? Ha!

  Ha!

  “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. Blair was probably already in the bathroom. The question was, should he go and rescue her? It was the type of thing a good, concerned boyfriend would do.

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

  “I’ll catch you guys later,” Nate called. He ducked around Chuck in his eye patch, 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 there. She’d been stopped by a middle-aged woman in a red Chanel suit with a “Save the Birds” button pinned to it.

  “Blair Waldorf?” the woman said, smiling her best fundraising smile. “I’m from the Birds of Prey Foundation.”

  Talk about bad timing.

  Blair stared at the woman’s outstretched palm. 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, but then a waiter walked by with sizzling skewers of chicken satay, causing her to gag.

  Blair squeezed her lips together to keep the puke from seeping out the sides of her mouth. She held out her left hand. It would have to do.

  “It’s so wonderful to finally meet you,” the bird woman said. “Although I do have a little confession to make.” She took a step closer, still holding Blair’s hand. “Our birds aren’t really endangered anymore. In fact, the mayor wants to start euthanizing them. Which, of course, we’re against.”

  Blair snatched her hand away, unsure of whether to puke all over the woman or stab her with one of the chicken skewers. Both would be messy, and it was such a nice party. Her eyes darted around the crowded room, desperate for help.

  There were Rain and Laura, dancing with each other. There was Anthony Avuldsen, handing out tabs of E. There was Charlie Dern, trying to teach a group of Seaton Arms girls 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 him for help and praying he’d be up to the job.

  The bird woman frowned and turned to see what Blair was staring at. Blair made a dash for the ladies’ room, and Nate stepped in just in time.

  Thank God he was so stoned.

  “Nate Archibald,” he greeted the woman, shaking her hand. “My mother is a huge fan of birds.”

  The woman chortled. What a charming young man. “Well. Perhaps your family would like to make a donation.”

  Nate plucked two flutes of champagne off a passing tray. He raised his glass and drank up. Then he raised his other glass and drank that too. “To the birds,” he said, trying to fend off another outbreak of the giggles.

  Rain and Laura stood on the edge of the dance floor, tossing their hair around, useless as usual. Nate waved them over.

  “Hello, Nate,” said Rain, tottering on five-inch stilettos.

  Laura had taken some of Anthony’s E. “I love your red suit,” she told the bird woman and gave her a hug.

  “Excuse me,” Nate said, and slipped stealthily away.

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

  Blair was crouched in the end stall. “Damn,” she murmured, 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 the rest of 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 of Advil into his palm.

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

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

  Blair sipped the water and swallowed the pills. “Thanks. I’m really fine. You can go.”

  “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 just lie down on the cold marble bathroom tile and fall asleep together. And then maybe have sex.

  “Thanks.” Blair bit her lower lip. She didn’t want to stab Nate anymore, she wanted to kiss him. “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,” Nate said, grasping for the right words. “But it was you I wanted all along. It’s always been you.”

  Aw.

  Blair swallowed. He’d said it just right, exactly the way she’d written it in the scripts in her head. The ones without any brutal stabbings or decaying corpses or severed heads hanging from trees. She put her arms around his 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. She turned to gaze up into Nate’s gorgeous green eyes and nodded yes.

  “But only if you promise never to mention Serena,” she sniffed.

  Nate wound a strand of Blair’s hair around his finger and breathed in the scent of her perfume. Behind them a vulture beat its wings against the bathroom window. Nate ignored it. It felt okay, standing there, holding Blair. It felt like something he could do. For now, and maybe forever. He didn’t even need to think about Serena, especially not if she was dead.

  “I promise,” Nate said.

  And then they kissed—a sad, soft kiss. In her head, Blair could hear the swell of music signaling the end of the film. It had started out a little gory and half the cast was dead, but at least the finale was romantic. The vulture pecked at the glass, staring at them with its beady black eyes.

  “Come on.” Blair pulled away and wiped the mascara smudges from her eyes. “Let’s dance.”

  Holding hands, they left the ladies’ room. Rain Hoffstetter smiled knowingly as she tottered past on the way in.

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

  s and d and j and c body slam

  “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. Personally, she hated it, although she’d never tell Ruby. She’d rather lie by herself in the dark listening to Gregorian chant.

  Yeehaw!

  A girl wearing a red leather vest and black lace leggings was being tossed in the air by the pulsating crowd. Something about her legs looked wrong, like they’d been pulled off and stuck on backwards.

  “You’re such a creep I hate my life you’re such a creep I hate my life you’re such a creep I love your lies!!!!” Ruby growled into the mic.

  “Come on.” Serena stood up. “Let’s dance.”

  Vanessa shook her head. “That’s okay,” she said. “I value my life.
”

  “Dan?” Serena tugged on his tux sleeve. “Come on!”

  Dan never, ever danced. He glanced 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. Serena grabbed his hand and pushed her way into the throng. Suddenly she whipped around and slammed her whole body against his.

  Dan stood there for a moment, unsure how to respond. Then he began to nod his head up and down in time to the beat. All around him people were jumping straight up into the air and slamming into each other. Dan took a deep breath and slammed Serena back, laughing. Serena raised her arms overhead, closed her eyes, and let out a wild banshee yell. Dan closed his eyes too and howled into the din.

  The music was so loud, the crowd so crazy, it didn’t matter what they did. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t dance, or that he was the only one in the room wearing a tuxedo—probably the only one in Williamsburg.

  He opened his eyes. Serena was smiling at him. She stuck out her tongue and slammed her perfect body into his once again. Dan stumbled backwards, grinning. What mattered was he was with her. And he was alive.

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

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

  “Thanks.” Vanessa smiled back. “It’s new.”

  “You should wear red more often.” He held his hand out. “I’m Clark. You’re Vanessa, right?”

  Vanessa nodded. She wondered if he was just being nice to her because he liked her sister.

  “Can I tell you a secret?” He dumped a few different things into a martini shaker and shook it up.

  Oh, fuck, Vanessa thought. Here’s when he pours out his heart and tells me all about how he’s been in love with Ruby forever, but she doesn’t seem to notice him, and he wants me to play Cupid and blah, blah, blah. Or he’s going to tell me he killed someone once, which would be equally boring.