whispered。
At last。
wait till the midnight hour
？I love you。？
The voice was unmistakably Nate？s and the words were clear as day to her even over the cries of
a gyrating hippie townie chick flailing her arms to ？Hey Ya？ as she smacked Serena in the face
with her long； essential…oil…scented dreadlocks。
He loved Blair。
Serena never would have guessed Nate Archibald was so in touch with his emotions； but she
knew it was true？he did love Blair。 She？d seen the meaningful looks Nate and Blair had been
trading ever since their daring breakout from Bailey Winter？s pound。 And then yesterday； the
way Blair had wedged her way in between them when they went to bed had been soobvious。
Serena felt a sinking feeling in her stomach； like when the road falls out from underneath the car
more quickly than you？re prepared for： it washer birthday？almost； anyway？and it washer party？
technically； anyway。 She was the one who deserved a little love and affection； wasn？t she？
She hesitated。 Perched between the delicately wall…papered wall and a massive grandfather clock；
she had the perfect cover to do a little observing。
Like； spying？
She peered out around the clock and up at Nate and Blair on the stairs； making wordless and
intense eye contact。 Then Blair twined her fingers through Nate？s and the two of them disappeared
up the stairs； taking a left at the landing。 They were heading to her parents？ master suite。 Serena
closed her eyes； fighting her way through the crowd to the bar。 There was always whiskey； and
Henry； and cigars。 Not necessarily in that order。
？There you are。？ Serena stumbled a little but kept a tight grip on the crystal tumbler she？d
filled？again？from the bottle of her father？s Oban whiskey she？d hid from the rest of the revelers。
It was her birthday and her house？why not save the good stuff for herself？
？Serena。？ Henry？s familiar voice split the night。 It felt like a hug just knowing he was nearby。 He
was so handsome； and he probably still loved her。。。。
And maybe she was just alittle drunk？
Someone had managed to get the van der Woodsens？ back garden fire pit going； and Henry and
three guys Serena didn？t recognize were huddled around it； warming themselves against the
surprisingly brisk summer evening。 Except for the flickering flames and the stars high overhead；
the night was dark。 It was a forting； familiar kind of darkness。 Serena had spent so many
summer nights here； like the night she ditched Henry。
？I？ve been looking for you。？ Serena settled down next to him on one of the low stone benches
that encircled the fire pit。 She was wearing an ancient pair of Seven cutoffs and he was still in his
swim trunks。Their bare knees were almost touching。
？Well； you found me。？ He used the tiny stub of the cigarette he was smoking to ignite a new one。
？This is your birthday party； right？？ asked one of the other guys； who Serena recognized as one
of her brother？s Brown freshman year suitemates； although she couldn？t remember his name。
？It？s my birthday tomorrow。？ Serena glanced at her slim Chanel watch。 ？In approximately
ninety…seven minutes； actually。 And it？s also Bastille Day。？
？Vive la France。？Henry raised the bottle of Corzo tequila in his hands and clinked it against her
glass。
？Vive la France。？Serena tipped her glass back； draining her whiskey in one gulp。 ？I missed you；？
she added； even though it was sort of untrue。 As soon as she？d returned to the city； she？d forgotten
all about Henry。
？I missed you too。？ Henry popped the bottle open and refilled her glass and then his； then passed
the bottle to his left。 ？Let？s have our own little prebirthday celebration。？
Serena looked up at the glittering stars overhead。 Everything around her was bringing her back to
a year ago； and then two years ago； when everything had been so different but also exactly the
same。 She turned her head； meeting Henry？s gaze。 She wanted to let him distract her all over again。
She needed him to distract her so she could try and forget about what was probably happening
right now on her parents？ bed。
？And what happens at midnight？？ she asked； sniffing the tequila tentatively。
？At midnight？？ Henry clinked his glass against hers and tossed the shot back down his
throat。 ？That？s when you get your present。？
If she can stay awake that long。
love is in the air
？You boys okay in there？？ Rufus Humphrey poked his crazy…haired head into the living room。 ？I
can？t get you any…thing else？ I？ve got some almond…and…lentil pesto in the blender。？
？No； Mr。 Humphrey； you？ve been too kind already！？ Greg smiled graciously and turned to
Dan。 ？Your dad？s a riot。？
Dan took a deep breath and used the remote control to crank the volume on the Humphreys？
battered old television； which was tuned to a documentary on the Beats。 Though he had no
memory of it； he？d apparently extended a drunken invitation to Greg to watch it together。
Who knows what else he offered up in his drunken state？
？Um。？ Dan thoughtlessly shoveled popcorn into his mouth； eager to have something to do with
his hands。 ？Thanks for bringing this。？
？No problem。？ Greg reached into the plastic bowl； his fingers brushing against Dan？s as he
grabbed a handful。 ？You mentioned that your dad isn？t much of a cook； so I thought I should
e prepared。？
I did？？Yeah； well； it？s a good thing。？ Dan chuckled nervously； noticing now that his dad had
displayed the freaky penis vase on a book…laden shelf。 The paint on the crumbly living room was
looking particularly water…stained。
？In vino veritas。？Greg giggled。
Dan recognized the Latin phrase suggesting that people are more likely to say what they really
feel when drunk。In wine there is truth。 His dad said it all the time before downing a whole bottle
of Merlot。
？Dude； look at Kerouac。 He？s so 。 。 。 electric；？ Greg observed。
Dan studied the famous writers on the flickering screen。 He was electric； wasn？t he？ He was
almost 。 。 。 handsome。 Was it totally gay to think that？ Dan felt his stomach lurch。 There was
something unfortably familiar about this scene： sitting on the couch； the warmth and weight of
another body next to his； a cerebral documentary on the screen。What did this remind him of？
What？ Orwho ？
Dan might have been totally clueless； but he knew what was ing next： the lights were turned
down low； the television was alive with stories of rollicking； devil…may…care out…law writers； the
evening was warm； the couch was cozy： there was only one way this could end； and that was with
a make…out session。
Anothermake…out session； to be more specific。
？I can？t see very well。 Can you？？ Dan reached to his left and switched on the chipped ceramic
table lamp； helping to break the room？s romantic mood a little。
？Now I can see you better。？ Greg smiled coyly at Dan。
？Right。？ Dan took the oversize plastic bowl off of his lap and wedged it into the small space
between him and Greg。 ？That should give you easier access；？ he explained。
Dan patted at his pockets anxiously。 He was dying for a cigarette 。。。but did he dare risk it？ Dan
was pretty sure there was nothing sexier than smoking： the little burst of flame as you struck the
match； the languorous exhale of long plumes of smoke。 He didn？t want to send Greg the wrong
message。
Yeah； we all love smoker？s breath。 Not。
There were a few minutes of silence； during which Dan tried to focus on the television but
couldn？t stop monitoring Greg？s every movement in his peripheral vision。 Greg kept running his
hand over his soft blond crew cut and chewing on his slightly chapped bottom lip。
？You don？t like the movie？？ Greg caught Dan？s eye。 He reached for the remote control and
turned the volume down enough to make the television nothing more than ambient background
noise。
？No； no； it？s not that；？ Dan stammered。 ？I was just 。 。 。 thinking about what we should do at our
next salon meeting。？
？I think we should do the Beats。？ Greg pulled his feet up onto the couch and rested his chin on
his knees。 He had a layer of soft…looking blond stubble on his face。 We could even screen this
documentary。。。。I mean； if you want to。？
Dan looked at the black…and…white footage of a couple of shirtless poets drinking bottles of beer
and smoking cigarettes。 He nodded miserably。 There was no use fighting fate； was there？ He was
gay now？everywhere he turned there were signs from the universe telling him to just go with it。 So
why couldn？t he just put his arm around Greg？s shoulders and nuzzle into his neck？ It didn？t seem
wrong； but it didn？t seem quite right； either。
？Kerouac！ Christ； it just doesn？t get any better； does it？？ Apparently； Rufus Humphrey had
entered the room unob…served。 He was standing behind the couch； breathing over their heads。
Thank goodness for nosy dads。
Rufus leaned in to murmur in Dan？s ear。 ？It was a different time； I tell you。We didn？t have any
regard for rules or the rigid definitions of society。 We all just 。 。 。 were。 You know what I mean？？
？Sounds amazing；？ Greg agreed； leaning in closer to Dan。 He smelled like popcorn and laundry
detergent。 He smelled delicious。 In a nongay way。
？Dad！ Join us！？ Dan jerked away； grabbing onto the sofa？s arm as though it were a life preserver。
He grabbed the bowl of popcorn and patted the empty space on the couch。 ？Plenty of room for one
more！？
？Really？？ Rufus exclaimed。Then； in a surprisingly graceful move for such a massive man； he
leapt over the back of the couch and landed squarely between the two boys。 ？Don？t mind if I do！？
Dan exhaled。 He？d never been so happy to see his dad before。 ？Yeah； watch with us。 And maybe
after you can tell us all your stories about the good old days？？
Rufus studied his son suspiciously。 His neon green tank top was pulled tight over his belly and
tucked into a pair of Dan？s navy blue school gym shorts。 ？You want to hear my old stories？？
？Definitely。？ Dan nodded excitedly。 ？I？m sure Greg does too！？
？Sure。？ Greg nodded politely。
？Yes； tell useverything。 ？ Dan smiled。 His dad？s stories were always endless and nonsensical。
And totally unromantic。
let？s get it on
？So。？ Blair exhaled sexily； her voice husky and low。 She？d lost count of how many cocktails
she？d had； but she felt pletely sober now。I love you。 I love you。 He loved her。 She leaned back
on the pale yellow Frette pillows on the bed in the van der Woodsens？ quiet master suite。 The
pumping music downstairs and the sounds of drunken revelers outside were hushed by the gentle
hum of the A/C。
？So。？ Nate stood at the foot of the bed； grinning at her excitedly。 His cheeks were flushed and his
green eyes gleamed。 He shifted his weight from foot to foot； looking more like he was waiting in
line for the bathroom than waiting to pounce on her。
Blair patted the soft feather duvet beside her。 ？Get over here；？ she said with a knowing smile。
Yes； ma？am。
Nate kicked off his gray…blue canvas deck shoes and leapt up onto the bed。 He bounced
tentatively to check if the ceiling was high enough for him to jump up and down without hitting
his head