nudging aside plastic containers filled with garlic salt； red pepper flakes； and oregano。 ？Where？s
Mitchell？？
Mitchell？s little side business was no secret in the pizza parlor。 The pizza chef raised his bushy
black eyebrows。 His name might actually have been Ray； but even after years of buying pizza and
pot there Nate still wasn？t sure。 ？Mitchell？s gone already。 You missed him。？
Nate patted the back pocket of his khakis； where he？d shoved his bulging Coach wallet； a sour
lump of panic rising in his throat。 Of course he wasn？taddicted ； but he didn？t like being stuck
without any weed at all when he？d been planning to roll a nice big fatty to while away the
afternoon。 And tomorrow afternoon； and the day after that 。 。 。
？What？ You mean he left for Amsterdam already？？
Ray？or maybe it was Roy？pulled open the shiny chrome door of the pizza oven and in one expert
motion slipped two hot slices onto a double layer of paper plates and slid them across the counter
in Nate？s direction。 ？Sorry； buddy；？ he said only half sympathetically。 ？But from now on we sell
pizza and soda andonly pizza and soda。 Got it？？
Nate picked up the plate of pizza and then put it down on the counter again。 He couldn？t believe
his bad luck。 He pulled out his wallet and removed a ten…dollar bill from the fat wad inside。 ？Keep
the change；？ he muttered； dropping the bill on the counter before leaving with his pizza。
Out on the street； he wandered aimlessly toward the park； feeling like an abandoned dog。 He？d
been buying weed from Mitchell ever since eighth grade。 One random May afternoon； Nate and
his buddy Jeremy Scott Tompkinson had gone into the pizza place to buy a slice； and Mitchell had
overheard Jeremy daring Nate to steal the container of oregano so they could take it home and
smoke it。 Mitchell had proposed to sell them something even more mood…enhancing； and Nate and
his buddies had been ing back ever since。 What was he supposed to do now； buy dime bags
from one of those random； shifty…looking dudes in Central Park？ Most of those guys sold crappy；
dry； Texas…grown stuff anyway； not the succulent green buds Mitchell got directly from his uncle
in Peru。 Besides； he？d heard half the Central Park dealers were narcs just waiting to bust a kid like
him。
Dumping his half…eaten pizza slices in the nearest garbage can； Nate dug into the pockets of his
Hugo Boss naval officer？style coat； searching for a leftover roach。 When he found one he crossed
Fifth Avenue and crouched on a park bench to light it； ignoring the group of giggling tenth…grade
girls in dark blue Constance Billard uniforms ogling him lustily as they walked by。
With his I…know…I？m…hot smile； his golden brown hair； his emerald green eyes； his always…tanned
skin； and his sexy expertise in building and racing sailboats； Nate Archibald was the most
lusted…after boy on the Upper East Side。 He didn？t have to go looking for girls。 They just fell into
his lap。 Literally。
Nate sucked hard on the burning roach and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket。 The problem
was； his other stoner St。 Jude？s buddies？Jeremy Scott Tompkinson； Charlie Dern； and Anthony
Avuldsen？all bought from Mitchell； too。 Mitchell was the best。 But it was worth calling just to
find out if any of them had managed to score a big stash before their dealer had disappeared。
Jeremy was in a cab on his way to an interschool squash club game at the Ninety…second Street
Y。 ？Sorry； dude；？ his voice crackled over the line。 ？I？ve been doing mom？s Zoloft all day。 Why
don？t you just buy a dime bag from one of those dealers in the park or something？？
Nate shrugged。 Something about buying a dime bag in the park seemed so 。 。 。lame 。 ？Whatever；
man；？ he told Jeremy。 ？See you tomorrow。？
Charlie was in the Virgin megastore； buying DVDs with his little brother。 ？Bummer；？ he said
when Nate told him about the situation。 ？But you？re right near the park； right？ Just buy a dime
bag。？
？Yeah； whatever；？ Nate replied。 ？See you tomorrow。？
Anthony was having a driving lesson in the new BMW M3 sports car his parents had given him
for his eighteenth birthday last weekend。 ？Check your mom？s medicine cabinet；？ he
advised。 ？Parents are the ultimate resource。？
？I？ll look into it；？ Nate answered。 ？Later。？ He clicked off and sucked the last drag off his puny
little roach。 ？Damn！？ he cursed； flicking the charred remnants into the dirty snow beneath his feet。
This semester was supposed to have been a twenty…four…hour party。 He？d had an awesome
interview at Brown in November； and he was pretty sure his application rocked hard enough to get
him in。 Plus he was no longer hanging out with little Jenny Humphrey； who was very sweet and
had a great rack； but who？d taken up a shitload of his free time。 For the rest of senior year Nate
had been planning to smoke up； kick back； and just stay mellow until graduation； but without his
trusty dealer； that plan was basically moot。
Nate sat back on the green wooden bench and gazed up at the sumptuous limestone apartment
buildings lining Fifth Avenue。 To his right； he could just see the corner of Blair？s Seventy…second
Street apartment building。 Up in the penthouse； Blair？s Russian Blue cat； Kitty Minky； was
probably lying stretched out on Blair？s rose…colored bedspread； eagerly waiting for Blair to e
home and scratch him under the chin with her coral…pink nails。 Impulsively； Nate pushed the
buttons on his phone to speed…dial Blair？s cell phone。 It rang six times before she finally picked
up。
？Hello？？ Blair answered in a clipped voice。 She was seated in Garren？s new East Fifty…seventh
Street salon； which was decorated like a Turkish harem？s lair。 Gauzy pink…and…yellow silk scarves
hung from the ceiling； and huge pink…and…yellow…upholstered pillows were tossed at random
around the salon for clients to lounge on and sip Turkish coffee while they waited for their
appointments。 In front of every stylist？s station was an enormous gilt…framed mirror。 Gianni；
Blair？s new hairdresser； had just finished bing out her freshly washed and conditioned locks。
With her cell phone pressed against her damp ear； Blair stared at her reflection in the mirror。 The
critical moment was here： Did she dare go short？
？Hey。 It？s me； Nate；？ she heard an old familiar voice murmur in her ear。
Blair was too stunned to answer。 They hadn？t spoken since New Year？s Eve； and even then the
conversation had ended badly。 What was Nate doing calling hernow ？
？Nate？？ Blair replied； half…impatiently； half…curiously。 ？Is this really important； because I can？t
really talk。 It？s kind of avery bad time。？
？Nah； it？s not important；？ Nate responded as he tried to e up with a reasonable explanation
for why he？d called her in the first place。 ？I just thought you？d want to know I？ve decided to quit。
You know？quit smoking weed。？ He kicked at a clump of frozen dirt。 He wasn？t even sure if that
was true。 Was hereally quitting？ Forgood ？
Blair gripped the phone in confused silence on the other end。 Nate had always been
random？especially when he was stoned？but neverthis random。 Gianni tapped his tortoise…shell
b against the back of her chair impatiently。 ？Well； good for you；？ she responded finally。 ？Look；
I have to go； okay？？
Blair sounded distracted； and Nate wasn？t even sure why he？d called her in the first place。 ？See
you；？ he mumbled； tucking his phone back into his coat pocket。
？Bye。？ Blair tossed her silvery pink Nokia phone into her red bowling bag and sat up straight in
the leather swivel chair。 ？I？m ready；？ she told Gianni； trying to sound confident。 ？Just remember； I
want it short butfeminine 。？
Amused creases appeared in Gianni？s tanned； intentionally stubbly cheeks。 He winked a
long…lashed； dark brown eye。 ？Jes lika Katerina Hepburn。 Right？？
Uh…oh。
Blair tightened the belt on her beige salon robe and glared at Gianni？s overly pomaded black hair
in the mirror； praying he wasn？t as stupid and inpetent as he sounded。 Maybe it was a just a
language thing。 ？No；not Katherine Hepburn。
AudreyHepburn。 You know； likeBreakfast at Tiffany？s ？My Fair Lady ？Funny Face ？？ Blair
searched her brain for a more current celebrity reference； someone with a decent short haircut。 ？Or
maybe like Selma Blair；？ she added desperately； even though Selma？s haircut was more
tomboyish than what she had in mind。
Gianni didn？t respond。 Instead； he ran his fingers through Blair？s damp brown tresses。 ？Sucha
bee…ootiful ？air；？ he said wistfully as he picked up his scissors and gathered her hair in his fist。
Then； without further ado； he lopped the entire pony…tail off with one brutal snip。
Blair closed her eyes as the rope of hair fell to the floor。Please make me look pretty； she prayed
silently；and sophisticated and poised and elegant 。 She opened her eyes and stared in horror at her
reflection。 Her wet； blunt； ear…length mop was sticking out in all directions。
？Don？t worry；？ Gianni reassured her as he exchanged his big scissors for a small pair of
shears。 ？Now we shape。？
Blair took a deep breath； steeling herself。 It was too late to back out of it anyway。 Most of her
hair was on the floor。 ？Okay；？ she gasped。 Then her cell phone rang again and she lunged at
it。 ？Wait；？ she told Gianni。 ？Hello？？
？Yes； is this Blair Waldorf？ Harold？s daughter？？
Blair studied herself in the mirror。 She wasn？t exactly surewho she was anymore。 She looked
more like a new inmate getting her preprison crop than the daughter of notorious corporate lawyer
Harold Waldorf； who？d divorced Blair？s mother two years ago and now lived in a chateau in
France； where he ran a vineyard with his ？life partner；？ who just happened to be a man。
Considering the turbulent state of her present existence； Blair really wouldn？t have minded being
someone pletely different； which was part of the reason she？d decided to submit herself to
Gianni in the first place。 She？d even settle for Katherine instead of Audrey as long as the look was
totally new。
？Yes；？ Blair answered feebly。
？Good；？ the guy on the phone replied。 His voice was deep and cajoling； making it hard to guess
how old he was。 Nineteen or thirty…five？ ？This is Owen Wells。 Your father mentored me at the
firm when I was first starting out。 We？re both Yalies； and I understand you？re interested in going
there yourself。？
Interested？Blair wasn？t justinterested in going to Yale？it was her sole purpose in life。 Why the
hell else would she be takingfive APs？
？Yes； I am；？ she squeaked。 She glanced up at Gianni； who was mouthing the words to a cheesy
Celine Dion song wafting out of the salon？s sound system。 ？I kind of messed up my interview；
though。？
Actually； she？d kind of told the interviewer her whole life？s sob story and then kind ofkissed him；
which was more than kind of a major ？whoops。？
？Well； that？s exactly why I？m calling；？ Owen Wells replied； his sexy voice resonating like the
bass notes of a cello。 ？Your father？s support means a lot to the school； and they want to give you a
second chance。 I？m volunteering my services as your alumnus interviewer； and the admissio