aside to let her pass。 Serena kicked off her baby blue Uggs and scuffed her bare； Urban Decay
Piggy Bank pink？toenailed feet down the long hall to the stately town house？s enormous； barely
used all…white Italian Modern kitchen。 Nate？s father was a former sea captain…turned…banker； and
his mother was a French society hostess。 They were basically never home； and when theywere
home； they were at the opera。
？Are you hungry？？ Nate asked； following her。 ？I？m so sick of takeout。 My parents have been in
Venezuela or Santa Domingo or wherever they go in February for like two weeks； and I？ve been
eating burritos； pizza； or sushi every freaking night。 I asked Regina to buy ham； Swiss； Pepperidge
Farm white bread； Grammy Smith apples； and peanut butter。 All I want is the food I ate in
kindergarten。？ He tugged anxiously on his wavy； golden brown hair。 ？Maybe I？m going through
some sort of midlife crisis or something。？
Like his life is so stressful？
？It？s GrannySmith； silly；？ Serena informed him fondly。 She opened a glossy white cupboard and
found an unopened box of cinnamon…and…brown…sugar Pop…Tarts。 Ripping open the box； she
removed one of the packets from inside； tore it open with her neat； white teeth； and pulled out a
thickly frosted pastry。 She sucked on the Pop…Tart？s sweet； crumbly corner and hopped up on the
counter； kicking the cupboards below with her size…eight…and…a…half feet。 Pop…Tarts at Nate？s。
She？d been having them there since she was five years old。 And now 。。。 and now 。。。
Serena sighed heavily。 ？Mom and Dad want me to go to boarding school next year；？ she
announced； her enormous； almost navy blue eyes growing huge and glassy as they welled up with
unexpected tears。 Go away to boarding school and leave Nate？ It hurt too much to even think
about。
Nate flinched as if he？d been slapped in the face by an invisible hand。 He grabbed the other
Pop…Tart from out of the packet and hopped up on the counter next to Serena。 ？No way；？ he
responded decisively。 She couldn？t leave。 He wouldn？t allow it。
？They want to travel more；？ Serena explained。 The pink； perfect curve of her lower lip trembled
dangerously。 ？If I？m home； they feel like they need to be home more。 Like I want them around？
Anyway； they？ve arranged for me to meet some of the deans of admissions and stuff。 It？s like I
have no choice。？
Nate scooted over a few inches and put his arm around her。 ？The city is going to suck if you？re
not here；？ he told her earnestly。 ？You can？t go。？
Serena took a deep shuddering breath and rested her pale blond head on his shoulder。 ？I love you；？
she murmured； closing her delicate eyelids。 Their bodies were so close the entire Nate…side of her
hummed。 If she turned her head and tilted her chin just so； she could have easily kissed his warm；
lovely neck。 And she wanted to。 She was actually dying to； because she really did love him； with
all her heart。
She did？ Hello？ Since when？！
Maybe since ballroom…dancing school way back in fourth grade。 She was tall for her age； and
Nate was always such a gentleman about her lack of rhythm and the way she stepped on his
insteps and jutted her bony elbows into his sides。 He？d finesse it by grabbing her hand and
spinning her around so that the skirt of her puffy； oyster…colored satin tea…length Bonpoint dress
twirled out magnificently。 Their teacher； Mrs。 Jaffe； who had long blue hair that she kept in place
with a pearl…adorned black hairnet； worshipped Nate。 So did Serena？s best friend； Blair Waldorf。
And so did Serena？she just hadn？t realized it until now。 Serena shuddered and her perfect skin
broke out in a rash of goose bumps。 Her whole body seemed to be having an adverse reaction to
the idea of revealing something she？d kept so well hidden for so long； even from herself。
Nate wrapped his lacrosse…toned arms around her long； narrow waist and pulled her close；
tucking her pale gold head into the crook of his neck and massaging the ruts between the ribs on
her back with his fingertips。 The best thing about Serena was her total lack of embarrassing flab。
Her entire body was as long and lean and taut as the strings on his Prince titanium tennis racket。
It was painful having such a ridiculously hot best friend。 Why couldn？t his best friend be some
lard…assed dude with zits and dandruff？ Instead he had Serena and Blair Waldorf； hands down the
two hottest girls on the Upper East Side； and maybe all of Manhattan； or even the whole world。
Serena was an absolute goddess？every guy Nate knew talked about her？but she was mysterious。
She？d laugh for hours if she spotted a cloud shaped like a toilet seat or something equally
ridiculous； and the next moment she？d be wistful and sad。 It was impossible to tell what she was
thinking most of the time。 Sometimes Nate wondered if she would？ve been more fortable in a
body that was slightly less perfect； because it would？ve given her moreincentive ；to use an SAT
vocabulary word。 Like she wasn？t sure what she had to aspire to； since she basically had
everything a girl could possibly want。
Blair was petite； with a pretty； foxlike face； blue eyes； and wavy chestnut…colored hair。 She let
everyone know what she was thinking； and she was fiercely petitive。 For instance； she always
found opportunities to point out that her chest was almost a whole cup size larger than Serena？s
and that she？d scored almost 100 points higher than Serena on the practice SAT。
Way back in fifth grade； Serena had told Nate she was pretty sure Blair had a crush on him。 He
started to notice that Blair did stick her chest out when he was looking； and she was always either
bossing him around or fixing his hair。 Of course Blair never admitted that she liked him； which
made him like her even more。
Nate sighed deeply。 No one understood how difficult it was being best friends with two such
beautiful； impossible girls。
Like he would have been friends with them if they were awkward and buttugly？
He closed his eyes and breathed in the sweet scent of Serena？s Fr？d？ric Fekkai Apple Cider
clarifying shampoo。 He？d kissed lots of girls and had even gone to third base last June with
L？Wren Knowes； a very experienced older Seaton Arms School senior who really did seem to
know everything。 But kissing Serena would be 。 。 。 different。 He loved her。 It was as simple as that。
She was his best friend； and he loved her。
And if you can？t kiss your best friend； whocan you kiss？
upper east side schoolgirl uncovers shocking sex scandal！
？Ew；？ Blair Waldorf muttered at her reflection in the full…length mirror on the back of her closet
door。 She liked to keep her closet organized； but not too organized。 Whites with whites； off…whites
with off…whites； navy with navy； black with black。 But that was it。 Jeans were tossed in a heap on
the closet floor。 And there were dozens of them。 It was almost a game to close her eyes and feel
around and e up with a pair that used to be too tight in the ass but fit a little loosely now that
she？d cut out her daily after…dinner milk…and…Chips…Ahoy routine。
Blair looked at the mirror； assessing her outfit。 Her Marc by Marc Jacobs shell pink sheer cotton
blouse was fine。 It was the fuchsia La Perla bra that was the problem。 It showed right through the
blouse so that she looked like a stripper。 But she was only going to Nate？s house to hang out with
him and Serena。 And Nate liked to talk about bras。 He was genuinely curious about； for instance；
what the purpose of an underwire was； or why some bras fastened in front and some fastened in
back。 It was a big turn…on for him； obviously； but it was also sort of sweet。 He was a lonely only
child； craving sisterhood。
Right。
She decided to leave the bra on for Nate？s sake； hiding the whole ensemble under her favorite
belted black cashmere Loro Piana cardigan； which would e off the minute she stepped into his
well…heated town house。 Maybe； just maybe； the sight of her hot pink bra would be the thing to
make Nate realize that he？d been in love with her just as long as she？d been in love with him。
Maybe。
She opened her bedroom door and yelled down the long hall and across the East Seventy…second
Street penthouse？s vast expanse of period furniture； parquet floors； crown moldings； and French
Impressionist paintings。 ？Mom！ Dad？ I？m going over to Nate？s house！ Serena and I are spending
the night！？
When there was no reply； she clomped her way to her parents？ huge master suite in her noisy
Kors wooden…heeled sheepskin clogs； opened their bedroom door； and made a beeline for her
mom？s dressing room。 Eleanor Waldorf kept a tall stack of crisp emergency twenties in her
lingerie drawer for Blair and her ten…year…old brother； Tyler； to parse from？ for taxis； cappuccinos；
and； in Blair？s case； the occasional much…needed pair of Manolo Blahnik heels。 Twenty； forty；
sixty； eighty； one hundred。 Twenty； forty； sixty； eighty； two hundred。 Blair counted out the bills；
folding them neatly before stuffing them into the back pocket of her peg…legged Seven jeans。
？If I were a cabernet；？ Blair？s father？s dramatically playf