andered out； leaving Dan alone。
Thankfully。
Still； maybe there was something to what his dad was saying。 After all； Colm hadn’t said specifically to write a poem。 He’d said to turn in a poem。 And Dan had just been musing that he’d peaked in high school。 He stood up from the bed and padded across the stained carpet to his makeshift desk； made from milk crates and an old door。 Maybe he could find a poem from the past。 It wasn’t like he had much of a choice。
He picked up one folded loose piece of paper on top of a pile of Moleskine notebooks and spiral…bound pads； unfolded it； and began to read。 Blonde ing out of the store/ Whatever you buy； I want you more。 It was one of the first poems he’d ever written； after he’d seen a picture of Serena online； ing out of Barneys。 It was terrible。
He shuffled through more of the papers。 Each poem reminded him of another piece of his past。 He’d been in love with Vanessa； dated Serena； had had a torrid affair with a kinky； yellow…toothed poet named Mystery Craze。 He’d even had a fling with a sensitive gay guy named Greg—if you called Greg trying to kiss him one night after drinking way too much absinthe a fling。 He’d had experiences with almost every type of love there was。 But now； he just felt empty。
Maybe that was his problem。 He’d forgotten what it was like to love and lose and love again。 After all； the poems about Serena were about untapped desire； about ideal love； about a love that could not be consummated。 They were sad and desperate and longing。 They were real poems。
He pulled out one； from when he and Serena had just broken up in the fall of senior year。
Perfect blond celluloid teen queen
Heart of glass； Wyeth…stark Kansas landscape。
Dan grinned。 That wasn’t bad。 He turned on his MacBook； jiggling his leg as it powered up。 The clock read eleven fifty…one。
Quickly； he typed with two fingers； pulling the best lines from different poems to create an impassioned； pleading poem to love。 Outside； he could hear neighbors on the street。 For as long as he could remember； everyone on his block had gathered outside to count down to the New Year。 But Dan didn’t have time for that。 Instead； he logged into his Columbia account and quickly posed an e…mail to his professor。 At eleven fifty…eight； he pressed send。
Well； at least he didn’t wait until the last minute。
the morning after is never as magical as the night before
Serena stretched her arms over her head； surprised when her elbow hit something hard。 She opened her navy blue eyes and realized her elbow hadn’t connected with something； but someone： Nate。
Scenes from last night came floating back to her。 She’d only had one drink； but everything seemed cloaked in a golden； glowy haze。 As soon as she and Nate had kissed； it was as if the whole party had faded away and the only thing that was left was the two of them。 It was only the countdown to midnight that had broken the spell。 They’d found a cab and gone back to Serena’s apartment。
“Morning！” Serena whispered； even though she wanted to scream for joy。 She’d never been so happy on a New Year’s Day。 It was the perfect start to the rest of their lives。
Doesn’t she mean year？
“Uh；” Nate grunted sleepily and turned over； throwing his arm across Serena’s golden； naked body。 “I’ve got farm duty；” Nate murmured。 “The cows are hungry。”
“Wake up； silly！” Serena gently pushed his blond…streaked brown hair from his eyes。 Nate was probably still high。 All night； he’d said cute things he never would’ve said sober； like how he’d be out in the alfalfa fields at school； look up at the sun； and think of her； and how he stole a copy of Breakfast at Fred’s from the school’s rumpus room so he’d always have her picture。
“Serena。” Nate smiled a slow smile and pulled her closer to him； then blinked； just in case this was a dream。 But Serena looked very real。 “Hi；” he added incredulously。 Seeing Serena naked reminded him of the first time he’d seen her naked； back when they were fifteen…year…old virgins。 But even then； it had never been awkward between them。 They’d laughed about the clumsiness of it all； and it was the same this time。 It was as if no time had passed； and their bodies had just melded into each other。 He kissed her smooth； bare shoulder。
“Hi； you；” Serena murmured。 Finally； her one…bedroom apartment felt like home。 She’d lived here for almost a year； but it was unfurnished save for her childhood bed； a gauzy lilac curtain tacked carelessly over the window； a cactus she’d bought at the bodega downstairs； and a few childhood photos。 She’d always meant to decorate； but there just hadn’t seemed to be a point。 It had sort of felt like a hotel room—nice to stay in； but nowhere you yearned for。 But now； she never wanted to leave。 She and Nate could just stay here forever； calling in for takeout and taking turns going downstairs to pick up new Netflix movies from the mailbox。
“Do you want anything？” Serena swung her long legs onto the floor。 She was naked but didn’t feel embarrassed。 “I think I have water；” she continued as she walked toward the short hallway to the small eat…in kitchen。 The ancient radiator hissed。 Despite having been renovated before she moved in； the apartment still had an old…time feel； with marble floor tiles in the kitchen； worn wood floorboards； and crown molding。
Serena flung open the fridge door。 Inside were a few cans of Diet Coke； a box of clementines； a few containers of yogurt； and a bottle of champagne left over from a gift basket。 The only packages Serena ever received these days were gift baskets； the only mail； invitations to parties and events； the only phone calls； from her agent or publicist。 Mostly； she ignored all of it。
She pulled out a bottled water and brought it back to the bedroom。 Nate was sitting up； her Frette Egyptian cotton sheets strewn across his torso。 His chest was muscular and tan。 Serena climbed back into bed and wrapped her arms around him。
“You feel nice；” Serena murmured； nuzzling her head against his shoulder。
“How long have you lived here？” Nate asked； taking in the gauzy white curtains and Serena’s familiar old canopy bed。 It was warm and inviting； and all hers。 Just thinking about the fact that they had the whole place to themselves made him horny。
“A year。 I don’t spend too much time here。” Serena shrugged。 “I get lonely； so a lot of times I head up to my parents’ place。”
“Are you lonely now？” Nate gently bit her shoulder。
Serena squealed and fell back against the pillows。 For the first time in the year that she’d been living in the apartment； she appreciated all its possibilities。 She could do whatever she wanted。
With whomever she wanted。
Nate grabbed the bottle of water from the nightstand and unscrewed the cap。 His eyes landed on a silver Tiffany frame。 Inside was a picture of him； Blair； and Serena。 It was a photo from Blair’s party at the Met the summer after senior year； the night before he left with Chips on the Belinda。 Nate was standing in the center； looking straight at the camera。 Serena and Blair were both laughing； their faces turned toward him。
Nate picked up the frame and held his index finger over Blair； so he could only see him and Serena； his arm draped over her shoulder。 They both looked so happy。 Then； he experimentally moved his thumb so it covered Serena。 In the photo； Blair’s face gazed adoringly at Nate。 Nate sighed in frustration。
“How is she？” he asked。 He couldn’t help himself。 He’d tried to forget about Blair； and sometimes； he could almost convince himself he had。 But seeing the photograph of her grinning so easily at him stirred up all the feelings he’d tried so hard to get rid of。
“I don’t know。” Serena and Blair hadn’t talked all year； and Serena didn’t really feel like talking about her now either。 Especially not with Nate。 She pulled her dusky rose duvet cover around her and leaned back against the carved…oak headboard。 “She was in LA visiting her family；” she offered； remembering the strained e…mail she’d received from Blair after Thanksgiving。 “She and her boyfriend were there together。”
“She’s still with him？” Nate dropped the photo。 It bounced once on the bed； then clattered to the hardwood floor。 He wasn’t sure why he was so surprised。 Blair was at Yale； not a nunnery。 For all he knew； she’d had hundreds of boyfriends since last year。
“I think so。 I don’t know；” Serena said softly； feeling a tingling in her fingertips that always preceded tears。 She turned away from Nate so she faced the window。 Outside； the treetops were barren。 Icicles hung from the building’s eaves； slowly melting in the morning sun。 She didn’t want to turn around until Nate spoke。 To say that he was in love with her； to say that Blair didn’t mean anything to him； to say he was glad Blair had a boyfriend because all he wanted was Serena。
Serena breathed in and out slowly； trying to even out her breath so each inhale and exhale lasted exactly three seconds。 It was a trick she’d learned from one of her acting teachers； a way to remain in control if you felt like your emotions might overtake you in a scene。
Too late。
Angry tears pricked her navy blue eyes。 Was he still in love with Blair？ Would she always be his backup？
“Serena？” Nate tentatively touched her shoulder； as if she were a stranger。
“You know； I have a lot of stuff to do today；” she announced； swinging her feet onto the hardwood floor。 She yanked a rose…colored sheet off the bed and primly wrapped it around her body like a bathrobe。 No way was Nate allowed to see her naked now。
“Serena； wait；” Nate said helplessly。 He wanted to hold her and kiss her and make it better。 After all； he loved her； too。
Serena whirled around。 “What？”
“I just…” Nate’s glittering green eyes clouded and he looked at his hands。
“Happy New Year； Nate；” she said； and closed the bathroom door behind her； not wanting to let him see her cry。
（Happy） New Year； indeed。
d earns his poetic license
From： colmdoyle@columbia。edu
To： dhumphrey3@columbia。edu
Subject： Re： poetry submission
Danny Boy！
I thought you were going to submit shite； but this is the real thing； boyo。 Sent it to Jaymi Matteo at The New Yorker。 She wants it。 They’re going to crash it into their next issue； printing tonight！ What’s it called？
CD
From： dhumphrey3@columbia。edu
To： colmdoyle@columbia。edu
Subject： Re： re： poetry submission
Dear Professor Doyle；
Thank you； sir。 I’m honored。 You can call the poem Serena。
Sincerely；
Dan Humphrey
true confessions
“Are you all right； miss？” a black…vested waiter asked as he rolled the room service cart into Blair’s Tribeca Star suite Wednesday morning。 “Your usual；” he added； lifting the silver cover from the plate。 It was the same waiter who’d brought her dinner last night。 And dinner the night before。 Blair glared mutinously at him。 Didn’t he have a life？
Doesn’t she？
“I’m fine；” Blair growled； causing the waiter to scurry out of the room； leaving her alone with her leek and goat cheese omelet and bacon。 Blair took the tray from the side table and brought it back to the bed； balancing it on her knees。 Her boyf