Gossip Girl

by Cecily von Ziegesar

  “Want to play a game?” she asked, kneeling down before the glass-fronted cabinet of games in the corner of the den. The snow had let up, and she wondered if they’d all head back to New York. She hoped they’d stay just one more night, even if it was New Year’s Eve and she was supposed to go to a party in the city with Tinsley, one of her friends from Waverly. But she didn’t want to go to a party. All she wanted to do was sneak back up to Nate’s attic bedroom again.

  “Let me see.” Serena stood behind Jenny, peering at the games. “Oooh, Clue! Remember how your nanny taught us to play this and you were terrified Colonel Mustard was coming to get you?” she called over to Nate. He smiled slightly.

  Serena set up the board. “Can I be Miss Scarlet?” she asked.

  “I don’t see why not. You always get what you want,” Blair said under her breath from the corner. She was so over this snowbound adventure. All she wanted was a quiet New Year’s Eve with her boyfriend, where they toasted their calm, peaceful lives, and planned their Gstaad skiing vacation. Was that too much to ask?

  “Who do you want to be?” Jenny asked Blair as she took the Mrs. Peacock piece.

  “I don’t care,” Blair said tersely. Everyone was acting strangely today. Serena and Dan were barely talking, Jenny seemed jumpier than usual, Nate was spacey and quiet, and Chuck was trying to make everyone get along. Harold and Giles had wisely spent most of the day playing outside with the twins, as if they sensed drama on the horizon and wanted no part of it. “I’ll be Mrs. White,” she said finally, sneaking a glance at her white gold Rolex. Four o’clock. Too early to lie and say she was going to bed, even if it was practically dark outside. They began halfheartedly playing.

  Serena rolled the dice. “Six. Right behind Blair,” she noted as she moved her game piece. Maybe she and Dan could get on the road after this game, and take their chances with the snow.

  “Of course you’re following me,” Blair muttered. Just like Serena had followed her to Yale. Just like Serena had followed her to Newport. She imagined them in their fifties, Blair having to move from home to home to keep away from Serena.

  “A little self-centered, Mrs. White?” Serena asked. Her tone was light, but she was deadly serious. What was Blair’s problem?

  Blair glared at Serena. “I suspect Miss van der Woodsen, outside Nate’s room, with a really slutty candlestick,” Blair hissed.

  Serena gasped. “You were there too. Don’t try to act all innocent.”

  “What?” Jenny chirped, backing away from the game board. What did they mean, outside Nate’s room?

  “Sorry, Dan, but you should know Serena was trying to sneak into Nate’s room last night.” Blair stood up abruptly.

  Serena felt anger slice through her stomach. It was so typical of Blair to blame everything on her. “Let’s go, Dan.” Serena pulled at his arm. “I need to talk to you.”

  Dan climbed to his feet uneasily. He felt like he was about to throw up. So Serena had tried to hook up with Nate last night. She hadn’t even denied it.

  “Blair?” Chuck asked from the corner. “Are you okay?”

  “I’ll be fine once Serena gets out of here,” Blair snapped.

  “Christ, not again.” Nate angrily kicked the table leg. Why did this always happen? Every time he came into contact with Serena and Blair there was a giant blowout. He suddenly remembered learning about catalyst reactions in his high school chemistry class. One random chemical could change everything between two otherwise normal chemicals. It all made sense. He was a fucking catalyst.

  Um, you think?

  He walked out of the living room, leaving everyone staring after him. He couldn’t stay in the house with Blair. He couldn’t drive back to New York with Serena. But he had an idea. His dad kept the Charlotte docked in Newport, and it wasn’t snowing that hard.

  Nate ran up to the attic, grabbed his black Lacroix wallet from the oak dresser, and shoved it in the back pocket of his khakis. He picked up what few things he had with him, shrugged on his coat, and made for the door.

  When he opened it, he found Jenny standing there.

  “It’s not a good time,” he mumbled, trying to sidestep her. “I’m leaving.”

  Jenny stayed where she was, blocking his path. “I want to go with you, Nate,” she said, her large brown eyes wide and pleading. “Please?”

  “I’m not going back to New York. I’m taking my dad’s boat and heading up to Maine,” Nate invented. He wasn’t sure where to go, but he knew he needed to get far away from here.

  “I’ve never been to Maine.” Jenny offered a small smile. “I know you didn’t hook up with Blair or Serena. I know you’re different. And…” She paused and looked shyly at the ground. She was wearing her red coat and hunter green galoshes, and looked adorably Christmasy. “I really want to be with you.”

  Jenny bit her pink bottom lip as she waited for his answer. Her sophomore year at Waverly, she’d been in a love triangle of her own, locked in a vicious battle with her roommate over Easy Walsh, a sweet boy from Tennessee. True, Nate and Blair and Serena had known each other for a long time, and the emotions ran deep. But she knew Nate, and she knew he had good intentions. She glanced up again and met his eyes.

  Nate paused, taking in Jenny’s sweet, hopeful expression. He could still hear Blair and Serena’s shrieks from downstairs. But Jenny… Jenny didn’t look like she’d yell at anyone.

  “Are you sure?” he asked finally.

  Jenny nodded. “There are stairs over there.” She pointed to the service entrance she’d found this morning when trying to sneak back down to her room.

  Nate nodded slowly. They were only about a mile from the harbor. They could walk. “Let’s go.”

  They do say that every ending is a beginning of sorts.

  the end of innocence

  Blair threw herself facedown on her dad’s bed and let out a wail.

  “Bear?” Harold emerged from the bathroom, tying a robe around his waist. He perched on the side of the bed and rubbed Blair’s back. “Giles and I heard you while we were in the hot tub. Are you okay?”

  “My whole fucking life sucks,” Blair said, her voice muffled by the thick goose-down comforter.

  “Talk to me,” Harold said, sinking down beside her on the bed.

  Blair sat up. “It’s Nate,” she said between choking sobs. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirrors her dad had creepily installed all around the bed. Her face was splotchy and her eyelashes were clumped together, wet with tears. She looked like a scared little girl. “Whenever he comes into my life, I do stupid things. Now Chuck hates me, I hate Serena, and everything’s all fucked up,” she said as she burst into a fresh sob.

  “Bear,” Harold said seriously, “right now there’s a man in this house who is still here, who loves you, who gives you New Year’s Eve presents.” Harold smiled and placed his hand on the enamel bracelet around Blair’s wrist. “It’s a great time for a fresh start. Go tell him that you’re confused. Everyone makes mistakes,” he added tenderly.

  Blair looked skeptically at her father. She’d never gotten love advice from him before. But he made a good point. Chuck knew better than anyone that people changed. Even her. “Thanks, Daddy,” Blair said, rising.

  She wiped her tears with the back of her hand and headed down to the kitchen. Chuck was sitting at the island, looking at the financial section of the The Wall Street Journal. It was obvious he wasn’t reading anything.

  “Hi,” Blair said in a small voice.

  “Hi.” Chuck stood up. He kept his arms at his sides.

  Blair took a deep breath. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t going up there to sleep with Nate. I mean, I just… I don’t know what I was doing. It’s like, whenever he and Serena are around I act like this person who I don’t even like,” Blair confessed in a rush of words. It felt good to say it out loud. “But I’m in love with you. I know that.” Blair sucked in her breath and her nose made a loud snot-sucking sound.

  Chuck pulle
d Blair into his arms and tenderly pushed her hair off her face. “I love you too,” he said simply. “And I know you.”

  Blair resisted the urge to look away from Chuck’s brown eyes. It was true. He’d known her in high school, when she used to lock herself in bathrooms to throw up, when she and Serena would put fake tattoos on their butt cheeks and go out underwearless in too-short dresses, when she would get ridiculously drunk on pink drinks at the Tribeca Star. And he knew her now. He knew how she took her coffee, where she liked to study, what she looked like when she woke up in the morning. He knew what she needed on a rainy day and on a sunny one.

  “Can we start the day over again?” Blair asked. Chuck pulled her close to him.

  “Yes,” he breathed into her hair. “We can. And tomorrow, it’ll be a new year.”

  Blair nestled into his broad, strong chest. Maybe if she stayed here, close and safe with Chuck, everything would be okay. Maybe she’d never have to think about Nate and Serena again.

  Or maybe avoidance can’t solve all your problems.

  where do you go when you’re lonely?

  Dan opened the door of the Buick Skylark, not bothering to brush off the inches of snow that clung to the roof. Serena slid silently into the passenger seat, staring straight ahead. She was trembling ever so slightly, but Dan didn’t place his hand on her knee. He didn’t know how he felt yet.

  Dan began to drive, slowly following the signs to I-95. The car felt oddly empty without Jenny. He still couldn’t believe she’d gone off with Nate. She’d texted Dan to let him know that she was safe and taken care of, and that she’d be home in a few days. The fact that his girlfriend and his little sister had both fallen for that guy’s charms was seriously fucked up.

  “Why were you going to Nate’s room?” Dan asked once they were on the highway. It was the first sentence he’d spoken since they left.

  “I don’t know,” Serena said, staring straight ahead. Something about her matter-of-fact tone made Dan know she was telling the truth. “I think I mainly just wanted to talk to him. To see him. We’d been talking about the old days and it just brought up a lot.” Serena took a napkin from the cup holder and began ripping it into smaller and smaller pieces.

  Dan nodded. That sort of made sense. It was how he felt when he was texting Vanessa. Like sliding back into something familiar.

  “Would you have slept with him?” Dan asked.

  Serena bit her lip. Over the years, whenever she and Nate were alone together, things happened beyond their control. But that was in the past. “No,” Serena decided.

  “I don’t get it,” Dan said tightly. “Are you in love with him?”

  Serena sighed, searching for the words, for a way to explain the whole messy situation so it would make sense to Dan. She rubbed her hands in front of the heater to warm them. How could she answer that? “No. But he was my first love. And that’s hard to get over.”

  Dan nodded, staring straight ahead at the dark road, thinking of Vanessa. The snow had finally stopped and the roads were plowed, but they were completely empty. It was like the whole world was drinking eggnog and counting down to midnight somewhere. “I get it.” It had taken him two years to get over her. And then, with one text message, suddenly it felt like she was back in his life.

  “I love you,” Serena said, her voice catching in her throat.

  All of a sudden, Dan started laughing. “If we got through this weekend, we can get through anything.”

  Serena smiled. Soon they’d be back in New York, back to their real lives, and this would all feel like a dream.

  Doesn’t she mean nightmare?

  “Vanessa, I need you to really flambé the soufflé. Humphrey tradition,” Rufus roared. A plastic top hat that read NEW YEAR’S EVE in silver foil letters was perched on his grizzly salt-and-pepper hair, and he wore a T-shirt with a cartoon of reindeer sitting on a couch drinking beers.

  Vanessa used a match to set the chocolate soufflé on fire. It felt good to be surrounded by noise and people after so many weeks of silently hanging around the loft. Rufus’s friends were sitting on the couch, drinking vodka and grumbling about Communism versus Marxism. None of them had even asked who she was or why she was here. Rufus had opened the door as if he’d been expecting her. He’d told her that Dan, Serena, and Jenny were snowbound in Rhode Island, and that he was glad to have some young blood in the house. That was hours ago, and since then she’d perfected Rufus’s recipe.

  Suddenly, the door opened and Dan and Serena tumbled in, holding hands, snowflakes dusting their hair.

  “Look who’s here!” Rufus cried proudly, gesturing to Vanessa as if he’d made her appear by magic.

  Dan’s gaze shifted from Serena to Vanessa. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude,” Vanessa said hastily. She was still holding her wooden soufflé spoon, and set it down on the counter. “It’s just… Hollis and I broke up and Ruby has, like, seventeen houseguests.” Vanessa wiped her hands on her apron. “But I can leave,” she added helplessly. Why did she think it was a good idea to barge back into Dan’s life? Why had she thought the texts from last night meant anything at all?

  Dan dropped Serena’s hand. It was so strange, and yet so familiar, to see Vanessa here, in his kitchen. Her dark hair was shoulder length and choppy, and she wore a pair of tight jeans and a white tank top underneath his dad’s dorky Kiss the Cook apron. Her milky white skin contrasted with her jet-black hair. He’d forgotten how beautiful she was.

  “Sorry to hear that,” Serena said, an edge to her voice. It was too bad that Vanessa had broken up with her boyfriend, but why was she so comfortable crashing at Dan’s?

  Asks the girl who breaks and enters Newport summer homes.

  “Thanks. At least I’m earning my keep,” Vanessa cracked, pointing to the charred soufflé.

  Dan smiled. Vanessa had always been a good sport about his dad’s experimental cooking. It was nice to have her here again, back at their apartment. It felt like home.

  “So…” Vanessa trailed off. “Is it okay if I stay?”

  Dan looked straight at Vanessa as if he hadn’t heard. “You can always stay,” he said softly. Vanessa smiled back, nodding her head, a slight blush creeping over her cheeks.

  “Right, sure. Of course,” Serena said sulkily, sitting down at the kitchen counter. Above her, the cuckoo clock struck midnight, its lilting, carefree chirp seeming to mock her. It might be a new year, but she felt like she’d experienced this all before.

  Two girls, one guy, and New Year’s Eve… Talk about déjà vu.

  IV

  hey people!

  Only six more months until we’re out in the real world, and the signs are everywhere. Theory suits and Prada pumps scream “signing bonuses.” The student center is packed with seniors writing Fulbright grant proposals to study contemporary indigenous literature in Canada, applying to grad school, or creating a backpacking-through-Latin-America itinerary. And then there are those undecideds, who head to any and all on-campus career fairs, just to guarantee they’ll have something to do once May rolls around.

  Even though our mailing addresses will stay the same for the next few months, our minds are already a million miles away. D found out he’ll be leaving the Big Apple and heading to the land of corn at the famed Iowa Writers’ Workshop come September. So what will come of his relationship with the lovely S? Rumor has it she’ll be graduating from Yale this spring, despite the small technicality that she’s only a sophomore. How does she do these things? And should we even be surprised by now? V may have an address on the Upper West Side, but judging from the pile of mail outside her door and her frequent sightings at Lit, Boxcar Lounge, and Barcade, she’s rarely there. After spending a semester apart—she at Yale, he at Oxford—B and C spent a romantic summer in the south of France, which seemed to ease the pain of separation. Then there are couples like N and J, who can’t even seem to be apart for a few hours. They’re often seen kissing outside the library… and Brown dining hall the Ratty
… and in the middle of the green. Get a room!

  your e-mail

  q: Dear Gossip Girl,

  I’m the owner of a collection of blogs. Come work with me and I’ll make you a star.

  —Nick

  a: Dear Nick,

  While I don’t know what my future holds, I intend to remain an independent operation.

  —GG

  q: Dear Gossip Girl,

  Okay, here it is: I have loved you since your first post. I’m graduating, I guess you’re graduating, and all I want for Christmas is you. I just received my fat signing bonus with a certain hedge fund, and I want to fly you down to St. Barts for the holidays. Come with me and let’s toast the rest of our lives.

  —Rich

  a: Dear Rich,

  While I’m flattered to hear you’re a longtime devotee, there’s no way I’m spending this holiday anywhere other than the Upper East Side. And while the affections of some ordinary girls may be for sale, I’m no ordinary girl.

  —GG

  stress case

  As we all bustle about trying to figure out our futures, I’m experiencing déjà vu. Didn’t we do this once already? It’s senior year stress all over again—except this time, we’re not applying to college, we’re applying to life. My advice is the same as I gave four years ago: Sometimes, you just need to pour the pinot, turn on some tunes, and chill out. After all, don’t we have the rest of our lives to worry?

  You know you love me,

  gossip girl

  old rivalries, new real estate

  Blair stood on the terrace of her mother and stepfather’s new Central Park West penthouse and took a drag of her Merit Ultra Light. In the past year, she’d almost given up smoking, but something about her mother’s dinner parties always made her want to break the rules.

  The new penthouse was on the top floor of a sprawling French Renaissance and German Gothic sandstone building that, on Seventy-second and Central Park West, lay almost exactly across the park from the Fifth Avenue building Blair had grown up in. It may as well have been in a whole other country. They were here because Cyrus was creating a huge development on the west side, but Blair had a feeling that Eleanor had also pushed for the move because she missed her old stomping grounds. Blair didn’t blame her. The few times she’d been out to LA, she’d hated it. The clothes were gaudy, the hair and boobs fake, and you had to drive everywhere. Even the sun felt too accosting and bright.