Blair did was glance at Kati and Isabel to see if they’d noticed the
slip。 Blair was acting strange； and Serena fought down a rising
panic。 Maybe Nate was wrong； maybe Blair really was mad at her。
Serena had missed out on so much。 The divorce； for instance。 Poor
Blair。
“It must really stink without your dad around；” Serena said。 “But
your mom looks so good； and Cyrus is kind of sweet； once you get
used to him。” She giggled。
But Blair still wasn’t smiling。 “Maybe；” she said； staring out the
window at the hot…dog stand。 “I guess I’m still not used to him。”
All six of them were silent for a long； tense moment。
What they needed was one more good； stiff drink。
Nate rattled the ice cubes in his glass。 “Who wants another？” he
offered。 “I’ll make them。”
Serena held out her glass。 “Thanks； Nate；” she said。 “I’m so fucking
thirsty。 They locked the damned booze cabinet up in Ridgefield。 Can
you believe it？”
Blair shook her head。 “No； thanks；” she said。
“If I have another； I’ll be hungover at school tomorrow；” Kati said。
Isabel laughed。 “You’re always hungover at school；” she said。 She
handed Nate her glass。 “Here； I’ll split mine with Kati。”
“Let me give you a hand；” Chuck offered。 But before he could get
very far； Mrs。 van der Woodsen joined them； touching her
daughter’s arm。
“Serena；” her mother said。 “Eleanor would like us all to sit down。
She made an extra place next to Blair for you； so you two girls can
catch up。”
Serena cast an anxious glance at Blair； but Blair had already turned
away and was headed for the table； sitting down next to her elevenyear…
old brother； Tyler； who had been at his place for over an hour；
reading Rolling Stone magazine。 Tyler’s idol was that movie director；
Cameron Crowe； who had toured with Led Zeppelin when he was
only fifteen。 Tyler refused to listen to CDs； insisting that real vinyl
records were the only way to go。 Blair worried her brother was
turning into a loser。
Serena steeled herself and pulled up a chair in the space next to
Blair。
“Blair； I’m sorry I’ve been such a plete asshole；” she said；
removing her linen napkin from its silver ring and spreading it out
on her lap。 “Your parents splitting up must have totally sucked。”
Blair shrugged and grabbed a fresh sourdough roll from a basket on
the table。 She tore the roll in half and stuffed one half into her
mouth。 The other guests were still making their way toward the
table and figuring out where to sit。 Blair knew it was rude to eat
before everyone was seated； but if her mouth was full； she couldn’t
talk； and she really didn’t feel like talking。
“I wish I’d been here；” Serena said； watching Blair smear the other
half of her roll with a thick slab of French butter。 “But I had a crazy
year。 I have the most insane stories to tell you。”
Blair nodded and chewed her roll slowly； like a cow chewing its cud。
Serena waited for Blair to ask her what kind of stories； but Blair
didn’t say anything； she just kept on chewing。 She didn’t want to
hear about all the fabulous things Serena had done while she was
away and Blair had been stuck at home； watching her parents fight
over antique chairs that nobody sat on； teacups nobody used； and
ugly； expensive paintings。
Serena had wanted to tell Blair about Charles； the only Rastafarian
at Hanover Academy； who’d asked her to elope with him to Jamaica。
About Nicholas； the French college guy who never wore underwear
and who’d chased her train in a tiny Fiat all the way from Paris to
Milan。 About smoking hash in Amsterdam and sleeping in a park
with a group of drunk prostitutes because she forgot where she was
staying。 She wanted to tell Blair how much it sucked to find out that
Hanover Academy wouldn’t take her back senior year simply
because she’d blown off the first few weeks of school。 She wanted
to tell Blair how scared she was to go back to Constance tomorrow
because she hadn’t exactly been studying very hard in the last year
and she felt so pletely out of touch。
But Blair wasn’t interested。 She grabbed another roll and took a big
bite。
“Wine； miss？” Esther said； standing at Serena’s left with the bottle。
“Yes； thank you；” Serena said。 She watched the C。te du Rhone spill
into her glass and thought of the Red Sea once more。 Maybe Blair
does know； she thought。 Was that what this was all about？ Was that
why she was acting so weird？
Serena glanced at Nate； four chairs down on the right； but he was
deep in conversation with her father。 Talking about boats no doubt。
“So； you and Nate are still totally together？” Serena said； taking a
risk。 “I bet you guys wind up married。”
Blair gulped her wine； her little ruby ring rattling against the glass。
She reached for the butter； slapping a great big wad on her roll。
“Hello？ Blair？” Serena said； nudging her friend’s arm。 “Are you
okay？”
“Yeah；” Blair slurred。 It was less an answer to Serena’s question
than a vague； general statement made to fill a blank space while
she was tending to her roll。 “I’m fine。”
Esther brought out the duck and the acorn squash soufflé and the
wilted chard and the lingonberry sauce； and the table was filled with
the sound of clanking plates and silver and murmurs of “delicious。”
Blair heaped her plate high with food and attacked it as if she
hadn’t eaten in weeks。 She didn’t care if she made herself sick； as
long as she didn’t have to talk to Serena。
“Whoa；” Serena said； watching Blair stuff her face。 “You must be
hungry。”
Blair nodded and shoveled a forkful of chard into her mouth。 She
washed it down with a gulp of wine。 “I’m starving；” she said。
“So； Serena；” Cyrus Rose called down from the head of the table。
“Tell me about France。 Your mother says you were in the South of
France this summer。 Is it true the French girls don’t wear tops on the
beach？”
“Yes； it’s true；” Serena said。 She raised one eyebrow playfully。 “But
it’s not just the French girls。 I never wore a top down there； either。
How else could I get a decent tan？”
Blair gagged on an enormous bite of soufflé and spat it into her
wine。 It floated on the surface of the crimson liquid like a soggy
dumpling until Esther whisked it away and brought her a clean
glass。
No one noticed。 Serena had the table’s attention； and she kept her
audience captive with stories of her travels in Europe right through
dessert。 When Blair had finished her second plate of duck； she ate a
huge bowl full of chocolate…laced tapioca pudding； tuning out
Serena’s voice as she spooned it into her mouth。 Finally her
stomach rebelled； and she shot up suddenly； scraping her chair
back and running down the hall to her bedroom； straight into its
adjoining bathroom。
“Blair？” Serena called after her。 She stood up。 “Excuse me；” she
said； and hurried away to see what was the matter。 She didn’t have
to move that fast； Blair wasn’t going anywhere。
When Chuck saw Blair get up from the table； and then Serena； he
nodded knowingly and nudged Isabel with his elbow。 “Blair’s getting
the dirt；” he whispered。 “Fucking awesome。”
Nate watched the two girls flee the table with a mounting sense of
unease。 He was pretty sure the only thing girls talked about in the
bathroom was sex。
And mostly； he’d be right。
Blair kneeled over the toilet and stuck her middle finger as far down
her throat as it would go。 Her eyes began to tear and then her
stomach convulsed。 She’d done this before； many times。 It was
disgusting and horrible； and she knew she shouldn’t do it； but at
least she’d feel better when it was over。
The door to her bathroom was only half closed； and Serena could
hear her friend retching inside。
“Blair； it’s me；” Serena said quietly。 “Are you okay？”
“I’ll be out in a minute；” Blair snapped； wiping her mouth。 She stood
up and flushed the toilet。
Serena pushed the door open and Blair turned and glared at her。
“I’m fine；” Blair said。 “Really。”
Serena put the lid down on the toilet seat and sat down。 “Oh； don’t
be such a bitch； Blair；” she said； exasperated。 “What’s the deal？ It’s
me； remember？ We know everything about each other。”
Blair reached for her toothbrush and toothpaste。 “We used to；” she
said and began brushing her teeth furiously。 She spat out a wad of
green foam。 “When was the last time we talked； anyway？ Like； the
summer before last？”
Serena looked down at her scuffed brown leather boots。 “I know。 I’m
sorry。 I suck；” she said。
Blair rinsed her toothbrush off and stuck it back in the holder。 She
stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror。 “Well； you missed a
lot；” she said； wiping a smudge of mascara from beneath her eye
with the tip of her pinky。 “I mean； last year was really 。 。 。 different。”
She’d been about to say “hard；” but “hard” made her sound like a
victim。 Like she’d barely survived without Serena around。
“Different” was better。
Blair glanced down at Serena sitting on the toilet； with a sudden
sense of power。 “Nate and I have bee really close； you know。
We tell each other everything。”
Yeah； right。
The two girls eyed each other warily for a moment。 Then Serena
shrugged。 “Well don’t worry about me and Nate；” she said。 “We’re
just friends； you know that。 And besides； I’m tired of boys。”
The corners of Blair’s mouth curled up。 Serena obviously wanted
her to ask why； why was she tired of boys？ But Blair wasn’t going to
give her the satisfaction。 She tugged her sweater down and glanced
at her reflection one more time。 “I’ll see you back in there；” she
said； and abruptly left the bathroom。
Shit； Serena thought； but she stayed where she was。 It was no use
going after Blair now； while she was obviously in such a crappy
mood。 Things would be better tomorrow at school。 She and Blair
would have one of their famous heart…to…hearts in the lunchroom
over lemon yogurts and romaine lettuce。 It wasn’t like they could
just stop being friends。
Serena stood up and examined her eyebrows in the bathroom
mirror； using Blair’s tweezers to pluck a few stray hairs。 She pulled
a tube of Urban Decay Gash lip gloss from her pocket and smeared
another layer on her lips。 Then she picked up Blair’s hairbrush and
began brushing her hair。 Finally； she peed and rejoined the dinner
party； forgetting her lip gloss on Blair’s sink。
When Serena sat down； Blair was eating her second helping of
pudding； and Nate was drawing a small…scale picture of his kick…ass
sailboat for Cyrus on the back of a matchbook。 Across the table
Chuck raised his wine glass to clink it with Serena’s。 She had no
idea what she was toasting； but she was always up for anything。
Disclaimer： All the real names of places； people； and events havebeen altered or abbreviated to protect the innocent。 Namely； me。
hey people！
S SEEN DEALING ON STEPS OF MET
Well； we’re certainly off to a good start。 You sent me tons of e…mail；
and I had the best time reading it all。 Thanks so much。 Doesn’t it
feel good to be bad？
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