her way； Serena knew she？d pee her pants with amusement。 But Blair kept her back turned。 Serena
sighed。 Only a week ago they？d been best friends again。 Now this。 She and Nate were together；
and Blair wasn？t speaking to them。
Hooking up in the bathroom at Isabel？s party had been a total accident； and if Blair hadn？t
caught them； they probably would have left it at that。 But it would have been just plain cruel to
hook up in front of her and then not try to make it mean something。 Though she and Nate had
never actually discussed it； they both cared about Blair too much not to stay together so she
wouldn？t think it was just some random； horny hookup between two beautiful； self…centered
people who couldn？t control themselves。
Which； of course； it was。
Besides； it wasn？t like being together was hard。 They were both gorgeous； they loved each
other？always had？and Serena？s Fifth Avenue penthouse was only four blocks away from Nate？s
town house between Park and Lexington。 Plus； all they really ever did was fool around because a）
they？d known each other since they were toddlers； so there wasn？t anything new to know； and b）
even though Serena would have been happy to； they couldn？t go all the way because Nate seemed
to be having a problem lately。？
Oh？And what sort of ？problem？ might that be？
？Hey； Serena；？ Isabel called over from the Stella McCartney rack。 ？I heard you got nominated
for senior speaker by Mr。 Beckham。？
Serena propped the purple…fruited headband back on its hook。 ？Really？？ she responded with
genuine amazement。 Mr。 Beckham was Constance Billard？s film teacher。 She had stopped taking
film in ninth grade and hadn？t even been at Constance the next two years。 She？d been up at
Hanover Academy； in New Hampshire？until she kind of missed the first few weeks of senior year
and they wouldn？t take her back。 Why would Mr。 Beckham； of all people； nominate her for senior
speaker？
Good question。
？So； are you going to do it？？ Isabel persisted。
Serena tried to imagine herself standing at the podium in Brick Church on Park Avenue；
addressing her class； dressed in their pristine white dresses and white gloves。Oh； the places you？ll
go。 Our future？s so bright； we？re going to have to wear shades ； etc。 She might have liked acting
and modeling； but inspirational speaking wasn？t exactly her thing。 Surely one of her other
classmates would be way more into it。
？Maybe；？ she replied； nonmittally。
You bitch； Blair thought； her ears aching from eavesdropping。 Ever since the infamous bathtub
incident at Isabel？s party； Blair had been obsessively determined to surprise everyone by rising
above Serena and Nate？s stupid； hurtful behavior； making it look like she really couldn？t give a
damn； and end the school year as the girl everyone most admired。
Not that she wasn？t already the girl everyone most admired。 She？d always had the best clothes；
best bags； best fingernails； coolest hair； and by far the best shoes。 But this time she wanted to be
admired for her courage； independence； and intelligence。 And being senior speaker at graduation
was definitely part of that package。 Right now Vanessa Abrams； Blair？s unlikely； shaven…headed；
black…wearing roommate； was back at Constance nominating Blair for senior speaker。 But as usual；
that sneaky bitch Serena had to go and fucking copy her。
The tricky part of it was； no one actually campaigned to be senior speaker。 And usually there
wasn？t even a vote； because usually only one person got nominated。 Being senior speaker was
one of those things that justhappened ？another mysterious Constance Billard tradition that no one
ever quite understood。 Things were bound to get a little interesting now that two girls were about
to be nominated。
Especially these two。
Serena understood instantly that Blair would think that she actually wanted to be senior speaker；
which was totally not the case。 But how could she defend herself when Blair wouldn？t even look
at her？ Unable to resist； she pointed at the goth…wears…white Morgane Le Fay dress in Blair？s
hands。 ？Oh my God； that would look so amazing on Vanessa。 That？s who it？s for； right？？ she
asked with a bright smile。
Oh； so you think it？s okay to talk to me？Blair thought。Wrong 。 Unable to muster a succinct
spoken reply； Blair shrugged and carried the dress over to the makeshift register set up on a
banquet table near the door； paying for it with one of her three platinum credit cards； which were
paid off by her mother？s accountant； Ralph。
This isn？t going to be easy； Serena thought with a theatrical sigh。 ？I？m not in the mood to buy
anything anyway；？ she added out loud and glanced around for Nate。 Fighting with Blair was
always so exhausting。 Especially when it involved being madly in love with Nate Archibald。
Or at least； pretending to be。
A funny thing happened at the yale club
？So good to have you with us； Miss Waldorf；？ the Yale Club？s uptight concierge greeted her。 ？If
you？ll just follow me； Dominick will tend to your luggage。？
？Thank you；？ Blair replied graciously； pleased with herself for having made Chuck call and
pretend to be her father； booking her a suite only minutes before she arrived。 Of course； she could
have asked her dad to call himself； but he was in Germany buying a plane or a car？she wasn？t sure
which？for his new French boyfriend； Giles； and she didn？t want to bother him。
The Yale Club lobby was businesslike and unfussy； with a black…and…white marble floor； white
walls； and a few Yale…blue wing…back chairs scattered about。 Blair kept her chin up as the staff
scurried about with her bags and keys； imagining she was Elizabeth Taylor； back in the days when
she was beautiful； thin； and glamorous； arriving at some simple bed…and…breakfast in a small town
in Scotland where her new film was being shot。 She could tolerate the old…fashioned； crusty
surroundings so long as she spent most of her time in the bar。
She followed the black…vested； bow…tie…wearing concierge into one of the old wood…paneled
elevators and stood silently waiting for the door to close； praying that her suite would have lots of
closet space and decent sheets。 It was precisely one of those awkward； mundane little moments
that made her feel like most of life was just waiting for something to happen。
But then； somethingdid happen。
？Hold it！？ a tall； broad…shouldered boy shouted as he dashed into the elevator。 His light brown
hair was short and wavy； and his skin was tanned a nice golden brown color。 His glittering green
eyes were framed by long； golden brown lashes； and his girlish red mouth was set off by a
masculine square chin。
？Cheers；？ he thanked the concierge in a British accent。 Then he turned and stood facing Blair；
unabashedly checking her out as the elevator doors rolled shut behind him。
Looks like Elizabeth has found her Richard Burton。
Blair teetered on her gold Manolo Egyptian Goddess sandals as they glided upwards。 What a
charming British accent。 What a beautiful crisp white shirt and perfectly ironed Helmut Lang jeans。
What adorable Church？s of London tan lace…up shoes。 What golden brown hair； what green eyes；
what great height！ He was like a taller； handsomer version of Nate？but even better than Nate；
because of that delicious accent！
Isn？t she supposed to be through with men？ But a super…British version of Nate？ e on； who
could resist？
The elevator stopped on the fourth floor。 The boy stood aside； and the concierge stepped out。 ？If
you？ll just follow me； miss；？ he said； motioning to Blair to follow him。 Blair hesitated。 How could
she leave such a delicious…looking boy behind？
？After you； miss；？ the boy murmured quietly； pressing the door…open button so Blair wouldn？t
get squashed。
？Right this way；？ the concierge prompted； leading the way down the Yale blue？carpeted hallway。
Blair stepped out into the hall and began to follow the concierge； walking as slowly as possible。
Then suddenly the boy was walking beside her； exuding pleasant odors and looking delighted with
his own hotness。
The concierge stopped at the end of the hallway。 ？Yours is the junior suite； miss。 Right next to
His Lordship？s。？
HisLord ship？！
The English boy smiled at Blair as he fumbled with his key。 ？Lord Marcus Beaton…Rhodes；？ he
introduced himself； thrusting his hand out。 Blair noticed right away he was wearing a Yale
ring。 ？Embarrassingly enough； my friends at Yale all call me Lord。？
Lord。 I？d like you to meet my boyfriend； Lord。 This is my husband； Lord。 We met at Yale。 The
lord and his gorgeous wife will be vacationing on their yacht in the South of France this spring
with their perfect family before a long sojourn at their summer castle in Cornwall。 ？
？And you are？？
Blair fluttered her thick； mascaraed eyelashes； awakening from her delicious daydream。 ？Blair
Cornelia Waldorf；？ she trilled； sounding exactly like Audrey Hepburn inBreakfast at Tiffany？s
when she first introduces herself to her new neighbor； Paul Varjak。 ？Actually； I？m starting at Yale
this fall。？
？And I？ve just finished there。 Wa…hey！？ Lord Marcus tossed his keys into his room and kicked
off his shoes in the doorway。 ？Blimey； I？m late for squash； but let？s ？？ He smiled shyly。 ？Shall we
get together for a drink tonight？？
Blair nodded in dumb agreement。 She could hardly believe her luck。
？See you in the lounge at seven； then。？
The lord closed his door and the concierge deposited the adjacent suite？s keys into Blair？s
hand。 ？Your bags will be here in a moment。 Is everything all right； Miss Waldorf？？
？Bloody hell！？ she heard the lord exclaim in his adorable accent as he crashed around in his suite。
Blair imagined him throwing his beautiful； tailor…made English clothes all over the place as he
hunted for something to wear for squash。 If she were his girlfriend； she？d color…code his shirts for
him and alphabetize his shoes according to designer so he wouldn？t have to thrash around so
much looking for things。
Of course she would。
She stepped inside her room and flopped down on the king…size bed to listen； her eyes darting
around the room as she did so； taking it all in。 It was small and shabby…chic； erring on the shabby
side； the gold accents on the curtains and bedspread and the Regency blue？patterned wallpaper the
only attempts at grandeur。 It wasn？t exactly the Plaza； but therewas a hot English lord living next
door。
Yes； yes？everything wasmore than all right。
what boarding schoolers do when they？re bored
It was already five in the afternoon by the time Jenny and her father arrived at the Croton School；
in Croton Falls； New York。 Rufus？s weekly wine and beat poetry night with his weirdo anarchist
poet cronies was starting in an hour at a speakeasy in Greenwich Village； and he was getting antsy。
Croton was only an hour and a half from the city by train； and Jenny was anxious to ditch him；
anyway； so she offered to take the train home。
？Don？t get off at 125th Street；？ Rufus advised； even though the stop was closest to their
apartment。 He handed Jenny three twenty…dollar bills。 ？Go all t