“Yay!” Serena yelled, clambering to her feet.
Dan cringed. He hated snow in his socks or in the wrists of his jacket and the feel of icy snow on his skin. He hated trudging through the cold only to ride a piece of plastic down a hill. Why walk up just to slide down? But more than anything, he was scared. When he was ten, he’d gone sledding with Zeke, his former best friend with unfortunate wide hips, and they’d crashed into a three-hundred-pound man, who toppled on top of them. Dan had lain there on his back with the wind knocked out of him, thinking he was destined to die under the fat man’s girth. He hadn’t gotten on a sled since.
“Let’s go!” Serena needled, grabbing Dan’s hand and trying to drag him to his feet. Blair, Chuck, Nate, and Jenny were already in the mudroom, searching through old mittens and hats for things to wear.
Dan shook his head. “I can’t.”
“Why not?” Serena’s eyes narrowed. What was Dan’s problem? He’d been moody ever since they’d left Providence. Serena had tried as hard as she could to include him in the conversation tonight, but he wouldn’t even try. Giles had talked more than Dan tonight, and not only did Giles not know who anyone was, English wasn’t even his first language.
“I think I might be getting sick,” Dan lied. “Besides, I thought we could curl up in front of the fire. You know, just do something quiet. I think that would make me feel better.” Lying on a rug next to a roaring fire with Serena was exactly what he needed to just chill out from the last twenty-four hours.
“If you’re feeling sick, I don’t want to catch it,” she told him coldly. Then she half ran to keep up with the rest of the group. “Don’t leave without me,” she called after them.
Dan sighed heavily as he trudged toward the small library off the main living room. The fireplace was stacked with wood, but Dan had no idea how to make a fire. The shelves were neatly organized by color—deep greens, blues, and burgundy, and Dan quickly realized they’d been purchased at the Strand through their books-by-the-yard program, where you could buy books based on your house’s color scheme rather than their literary merit.
Dan gazed unhopefully at the musty maroon volumes in front of him. He stopped at one thin volume with gold script on the spine. It was The Sorrows of Young Werther, by Goethe, about a guy’s unrequited love for a beautiful woman. It had been Dan’s favorite book in high school.
Wonder why.
He settled into a stiff red leather wingback chair under a cathedral-like window and flipped open to a random page. It was where the hero, Werther, realizes he either has to kill his love, her husband, or himself. Dan frowned. This probably wasn’t the best choice for tonight.
Instead, he pulled his cell phone out of the pocket of his old tan cords. No missed calls. Of course.
He idly scrolled through his phone book. He didn’t have many numbers stored—just some other creative writing majors from college, his dad, Jenny, and Serena. As he reached the end of the list, he paused at the lone V. Every other entry had a first and last name, but he’d just put a V for Vanessa the first time he’d programmed her into his phone and never bothered to change it. He’d always sort of loved the simplicity of it. Why would he ever need to say more than that?
Dan gazed at her number. He hadn’t spoken to Vanessa in almost two years. He’d thought that, living in the same, geographically small city, they might run into each other. But then again, he lived way uptown and rarely left the neighborhood, while she probably spent all her time in Brooklyn. He’d heard she was still dating that famous indie film director. She probably never even thought about Dan anymore. But maybe she did.
WOULD YOU RATHER EAT MY DAD’S FONDUE FOR A MONTH OR GO SLEDDING EVERY DAY FOR A YEAR? he wrote quickly, then, without thinking, hit send. Jenny tortured him with the would-you-rather game, coming up with absurd scenarios like would he rather have uncontrollable back hair or uncontrollable nose hair. But he knew Vanessa liked absurd questions. Besides, it was just a little innocent blast from the past.
And since when are blasts from the past ever innocent?
love don’t live here anymore
“You want to go out?” Vanessa asked Norma. The little chow-poodle mix cocked her head and emitted a low-pitched whine. Vanessa understood what she was trying to say: that she was bored and antsy and didn’t know what to do with herself. Vanessa felt the same way. It was nine o’clock, but Hollis was still in a meeting with Streetscape execs over distribution for Rowing to Reykjavík. She’d called him a few times, but the phone had gone straight to voice mail.
Vanessa had hoped they could spend some quality time alone, now that he was finally home, but he had such a crammed schedule of meetings and mandatory studio holiday parties and conference calls that they’d barely spent any time together. In fact, they hadn’t even exchanged Christmas presents yet—unless you counted the several pairs of ugly wool socks he’d presented to her his first night back. He said that they were the only thing that kept him warm in Iceland. Vanessa was planning on giving him a framed photo of the dilapidated picnic table on his old roof. She’d begged his old roommates for access, and had spent one chilly afternoon shooting it, recalling their first kiss. But she hadn’t even had the chance to give it to him. It felt like he’d only come into the apartment to dump his stuff and then leave again. A collection of gray wool socks were balled up under the glass coffee table like nesting chinchillas, and a collection of coffee mugs were in a Stonehenge-like formation around the sink. Huge stills from Rowing to Reykjavík were lined up along the hallway, blocking the way as they waited to be hung.
The elevator door finally slid open. “Hey babe!” Hollis yelled happily.
“Hey!” she called out. She tried not to let her annoyance show when she noticed the two skinny, goateed guys trailing behind Hollis.
“These are two Streetscape interns. Josh, Randy, this is Vanessa.” The two guys trailed Hollis into the kitchen and stood there, not taking off their shoes or coats. Instead of handshakes, they each offered Vanessa a limp wave before leaning against the wall, turning to Hollis to play ambassador.
“We’re going to this party in Red Hook,” Hollis announced, traipsing gray slush on the freshly cleaned pine floors. It had been snowing, sleeting, and slushy for three days all across the northeast. Brooklyn was blanketed in a thin layer of white, barely concealing the dingy gray slush beneath it.
“Okay.” Vanessa resisted the urge to trail after Hollis with the WetJet. She’d much rather order in and have sex, but she didn’t want to be a bitch. Besides, there’d be plenty of time for that later. “I’ll just get ready.” Vanessa smiled, trying to figure out what she should wear. It had been a long time since she’d been to a party.
“Oh, you want to come?” Hollis asked in surprise. “Okay, that’s cool. Guys, want some beers? You picked some up, right, babe?” Hollis asked Vanessa, already midway to the Sub-Zero refrigerator. He hadn’t even taken off his jacket.
Vanessa shook her head in disbelief. Um, no she hadn’t, and since when was her job to go on beer runs for the guys she didn’t know were coming over?
“That’s fine. We have a bottle of wine.” Hollis grabbed the bottle of white Ruby had brought over the other night.
That’s mine! Vanessa wanted to yell. But that was ridiculous. It was Hollis’s apartment. “You know, I think I’m actually going to stay in for the night. Have fun, guys.” Vanessa shrugged.
“You sure?” Hollis asked. “I won’t be home too late. So good to be back!” Hollis said, kissing the top of Vanessa’s head.
Vanessa collapsed back on the leather couch and pulled her phone from the crevice behind the cushions. One new text. She smiled. It was probably Hollis, texting from a cab, sweetly saying that he’d miss her and that he’d be back soon.
Instead, it was from Dan. Asking if she’d rather sled or eat his dad’s fondue. She immediately thought of Rufus, his crazy outfits and his crazier culinary creations, and then of Dan’s traumatizing story about being mowed over by a
large man on a sled when he was a kid. She laughed out loud, the tension of the last half hour slowly seeping from her limbs.
She looked down at the keypad and quickly typed in I HATE SLEDDING. BRING ON THE FONDUE!
Immediately, her phone lit up again: WOULD YOU RATHER BE LOCKED OUT OF A PARTY IN TRIBECA OR LOCKED ON THE ROOF OF YOUR OLD APT IN WILLIAMSBURG?
Vanessa smiled. Dan was alluding to the first time they’d met, when they’d both found themselves locked out of a party back in high school. Vanessa had come out onto the fire escape to get some air, and Dan had come out for a cigarette, closing the fire door behind him and locking them both out. Together, they’d climbed down the side of the massive brick building, and wound up at a nearby bar, talking late into the night and quickly becoming friends. That felt so long ago now.
Vanessa pulled her legs underneath her and spread a blanket over her legs. It was nice to hear from Dan, and especially nice that he didn’t seem to hate her anymore. Outside, she could hear people from the bar across the street talking and laughing. She smiled to herself, then texted back: DEPENDS WHO I’D BE LOCKED OUT WITH.
Now who says texting is impersonal?
tangled up in s…
Serena scampered up the snowy hill, pulling a handmade toboggan behind her. “Natie, let’s race!” she called, her breath coming out in small white puffs. The floodlights outside the house were on, casting the property in an eerie glow. Chuck and Blair were already halfway down the hill. Jenny was still struggling up with her toboggan. It kept slipping from her mittened hands and sliding back down.
“Okay.” Nate ran after Serena. It struck him that they were twenty—actual adults—and yet all they wanted to do was act like little kids. It was like that dumb cliché: The more you change, the more you stay the same. Maybe growing up was just about becoming closer to the person you always were.
And he came up with that without any herbal aid. Impressive.
“Hey!” Nate easily caught up with Serena, wrapping his arms around her willowy, athletic frame.
Serena whirled around to face him, her blond hair whipping his face. She playfully pushed Nate so he took a lurching step backward into a snowbank.
“No mercy!” Nate yelled, pulling her down with him and wrestling her into the snow.
Serena squealed in protest as she wriggled free, making an impromptu snow angel. Clumps of snow clung to her long eyelashes.
For a second, Nate was transported back to their sophomore year, to an afternoon when they’d been goofing off in the piles of snow in his courtyard. It was the first time he’d seen Serena not as plain old Serena, his best friend since kindergarten, but as a beautiful girl. A girl he loved.
He hastily stood up, brushing the wet snow off the back of his khakis.
“Here,” he offered, holding his hand out to help Serena up.
“Thanks.” Serena got to her feet, still holding Nate’s hand. She held his gaze. The air felt thick and the world around them seemed muted.
“Nate, can you help me?” Jenny called from the bottom of the hill. They both looked up to where she was sitting on top of a toboggan, her cheeks rosy from the cold.
“Sure,” Nate said, reluctantly turning away from Serena.
“Watch out, he’s brutal!” Serena called after them, trying not to feel disappointed. When Dan had refused to come sledding, it was almost a relief. Playing in the snow had always been something she and Nate shared.
Nate grabbed the sled and tossed it halfway up the hill. He caught it and ran the last of the way, Jenny laughing and trudging behind. They both climbed on and he wrapped his arms around her small frame. “Let’s go!” he cried, pushing them toward the edge of the slope.
As they hurtled down the hill across the crisp fresh snow, Jenny felt the sting of the wind against her face. This was nothing like traying at Waverly, where everyone used the dining hall trays to slide down the teeny-tiny hill behind Dumbarton, one of the girls’ dorms. Toboggans were so much more authentic and quaint. She felt like one of the sisters in Little Women. They were always going sledding with their neighbor Laurie, who was too cute for his own good.
Sort of like a certain green-eyed Adonis we all know and love?
The sled coasted to a stop at the foot of the hill. Jenny breathed out in wonderment. Fat snowflakes circled furiously around them, and the majestic pine trees were coated in white. She felt like she was trapped in a snow globe.
“Was that too fast for you?” Nate turned around, his brow furrowed in concern. His arms were still circled tightly around her waist. She shook her head.
She knew what she wanted to do when they got back to the house tonight. She was a virgin, and had been waiting for the right person and the right time. Waverly was such a small school and everyone knew everyone’s business. Soon after she got there, she realized that when she did lose her virginity, she wanted it to be with someone special, someone she trusted. Someone like Nate.
“Hey hornyheads!” Serena called cheerfully as she coasted down the hill by herself on a red toboggan. Jenny broke away guiltily and waved.
“Want to race?” Nate called to Serena, a devilish gleam in his eye as he grabbed the toboggan rope and began pulling it back up the hill.
“I want to race,” Blair called from the other side of the hill, where she and Chuck were setting up their own sled. She couldn’t believe little Jenny Humphrey was getting all cozy with Nate in front of everyone. Who the fuck did she think she was?
“You want to steer, or should I?” Chuck asked, gesturing to the sled.
“I don’t care.” Blair plunked down on the toboggan. She crossed her arms, then uncrossed them, remembering she wasn’t supposed to care about Nate anymore. Chuck sat down behind her, stretching out his long legs and crossing them over hers.
“Actually, I’ve had enough.” Blair stood up abruptly. “I’m wet and freezing and I’m going inside,” she huffed, stomping toward the garage. What twenty-year-olds sledded for fun? Serena’s lame boyfriend had the right idea to drink wine in the library instead of coming sledding. Maybe she’d go join him.
Jealousy loves company.
when the lights go out
Blair stormed into the sunken living room and flicked on the Tiffany lamp on the end table. Nothing happened. “Don’t tell me the fucking power is out.”
“Do you know where the fuse box is?” Chuck asked, coming up behind her.
“Hey.” Dan emerged from the library. “Do you know where the fuse box is?” he asked.
Blair shook her head. Why did boys care so much about fuse boxes?
“I’m going to bed,” she announced haughtily.
Dan nodded, squinting past Blair into the darkness. He could hear Serena, Jenny, and Nate taking off their boots in the kitchen. Dan suddenly felt guilty for abandoning them. He and Vanessa had been texting for the past few hours, volleying remember-whens and would-you-rathers back and forth. He hadn’t even noticed that the power had gone off until Blair stomped in. It made him worried that there might have been other things he hadn’t noticed.
Like that his little sister’s all grown up?
“I think we should all go to bed,” Blair added, stamping out the memory of Nate’s hands around Jenny’s waist on the hill. It was the last thing she wanted to think about right now.
Upstairs, Blair took a long hot shower by candlelight, trying to let the water wash away her nagging frustrations. Nate had looked so happy tonight, so different from the tormented Nate of last winter. When she closed her eyes she saw him laughing, tugging a toboggan up a hill. She saw him lobbing snowballs at Serena. Hugging Jenny. She saw him smiling, his green eyes glittering. She stepped out of the shower and toweled off, pulling on a Cosabella tank top and shorts set before heading into the bedroom. Chuck was already asleep, his breathing deep and even.
She climbed into bed and lay next to Chuck, turning over so she was lying on her side. She couldn’t get comfortable. Lying next to Chuck didn’t feel right. Instead, she
found herself thinking about a certain attic bedroom.
Maybe she and Nate needed to talk. Or kiss. One more time. One last time. Just to say goodbye, so she could get rid of all the confusing feelings swirling around her brain. So that she could finally enter her grown-up life, without any worries about her past coming back to haunt her. She swung her legs out of bed, grabbed a candle from the antique oak dresser, and headed for the door.
Next door, Serena lay awake in bed. Dan was sleeping with his cell phone clutched to his chest like a tiny electronic life preserver. She felt alone with her jumbled thoughts.
Being outside with Nate had been so fun, so natural. She wasn’t playful when she was with Dan. She always hesitated for a half second before she said anything, worried she’d disappoint him by not sounding smart. She hated worrying.
She wondered what Nate was doing upstairs. He’d seemed disappointed when Blair wanted to go inside, like he wished he could stay outside and play forever. And that was what Serena loved most about him.
She swung her feet onto the cold floor.
There was no way in hell Jenny was even going to try to sleep. The whole evening—playing in the snow as if she were a heroine in a nineteenth-century novel, coming back to a power outage, feeling Nate’s warm breath on her cold skin—had been so romantic. And there was no reason the evening had to come to an end. She pulled on a camisole and the leggings she’d worn on her RISD tour. It wasn’t ideal, but there was no way she would go upstairs to lose her virginity in one of Blair’s discarded T-shirts. The makeshift jammies would have to do.
Okay, Jenny whispered to herself. She felt excited and nervous all at the same time. She creaked the door open and stepped into the dark hallway.
Blair climbed up the rickety attic stairs, a Tocca candle in one hand. It was fig scented and perfect for the bedside, but not very helpful in casting light on her path. She looked up when she heard a sound coming from the door at the bottom of the stairs.
I Will Always Love You Page 21
