—caligirl
a: Dear Cali;
Last I heard; dancing isn’t cheating。 I say; just dance—but be ready to cut in if things look like they’re getting a little too down and dirty。
—GG
q: Dear Gossip Girl;
So; where’s the New Year’s party?
—partylikearockstar
a: Dear Party;
Ordinarily; a query like this would force me to break the sad news that you just may not have been invited to the fete of the season; but this year; it seems our favorite reformed bad boy has yet to send out invites。 Shall we add sloth to our list of sins as well?
—GG
sightings
N ordering a dozen bagels at daybreak at Pick…a…Bagel。 Impromptu brunch plans?… B and S stumbling down Fifth Avenue; also at daybreak; heading toward S’s house。 Haven’t seen that in a while! J and her friend E ordering eggs at Three Guys at 6 a。m。; looking sweaty and disheveled in that I’ve been dancing my ass off all night way。 Good for them! V making a coffee run to the deli on the corner; looking blissful for early in the morning。 Why so happy?
one more theory
Maybe all of our bad behavior is just gearing up for the final countdown: I’m talking New Year’s Eve in just a few days。 Will our favorite party pad be up and running this year; or will we need to find an alternate venue? Will we kiss the same people; different people; or ring in the new year with only our cat for pany? And what will this year bring? I’ll be the first to know and you’ll be the first to find out。
You know you love me;
gossip girl
out with the old; in with the new?
“A large latte; please;” Serena said to the surly…looking server behind the counter of the Hungarian Pastry Shop on 112th and Amsterdam。 Her head was pounding and her mouth felt dry。 Last night; after drinking a few of her extra…strong vodka gimlets; she and Nate and Blair had fallen asleep in a tangled pile midway through Breakfast at Tiffany’s and had woken up to a river of melted ice cream in the bed with them。
People have woken up to worse…。
Despite the shaky start; Serena had actually managed to have a productive morning。 She’d called the real estate agent for the Frank Lloyd Wright house and had already made all the arrangements for an August move…in。 She couldn’t wait。 And she really couldn’t wait to tell Dan。 That was why she’d chosen the pastry shop to meet。 Serena hated it; but it was Dan’s favorite place。
“Thanks;” Serena said to the barista as she grabbed her latte。 The barista snorted in response。 Serena sat down at one of the tables in the corner; which had only three legs and shook whenever she placed her cup on its surface。
The bell above the door dinged as a new customer entered。 Dan。 He was red…faced from the wind and holding his place in The Tropic of Cancer with his index finger。
“Hey;” he said; sinking down into the seat across from her。
“Hi。” Serena smiled at her rumpled; absentminded poet boyfriend。 She pulled out the photos she’d printed of the house and spread them across the table; silently beaming in satisfaction。
“Wow。” Dan picked up the papers to look more closely。 The house looked familiar; like someplace he’d studied in school or seen in a coffee…table book about architecture。
“It’s a Frank Lloyd Wright house; one of his early; Prairie…style ones。 It’s one of the first ones he created;” Serena said proudly; as if she’d built the house herself。 “And it’s ours。 Just outside Iowa City!”
Dan looked around so he wouldn’t have to gaze into Serena’s eyes。 The coffee shop was almost empty; except for two couples cozily leaning over their lattes。 The events of last night came rushing back to him in a flash of jet…black hair strewn over his bare chest。 Vanessa。
He bed his hand through his messy hair。 “Um; I’ve been thinking…”
“Do you like it?” Serena asked; biting her bottom lip。
Large concrete…pool empty eyes。
Dive in…。
Dan realized just then that he’d never imagined Serena joining him in Iowa。 He’d imagined himself; alone; scribbling poems。 Driving past endless cornfields。 Mingling with other students at poetry readings while drinking warm white wine in paper cups。 In all of his visions; he was by himself。
“But what would you do in Iowa?” The words were out of Dan’s mouth before he could stop them。
“You don’t want me there?” Serena asked in a small voice。 She began chewing on her thumbnail。 It was one of her worst habits; one the makeup artist at Breakfast at Fred’s had desperately tried to stop; but Serena couldn’t help it。 She couldn’t believe Dan didn’t want her。 It was so unexpected that she didn’t know what to think。
“No。 I mean…” Dan trailed off。 “I need to just write; and you need to…” What did Serena need to do? For the past couple years; it had felt as though her whole life revolved around him。 And it had been kind of nice; to be such a central part of her world; to be her world pletely。 But Serena deserved to have her own thing。 “I mean; I think I need to do this by myself。”
Serena nodded slowly; looking at the photos of the house; a dot against a flat green landscape。 She’d never live there now。
“I guess—I guess I need to find my own Iowa;” Serena said slowly。 Around them; couples were gazing adoringly at each other over their lattes; their tabletops scattered with interchangeable notebooks and books。 Serena glanced down at their own table; which held her cranberry pink Miu Miu bag and Dan’s tattered; stained paperback。 Even their drinks didn’t match: Hers was a large latte in a paper cup; his a tiny; chipped espresso mug。 No matter what they did together or how they spent their time or how much she loved him; they were just pletely different people。 She’d always known that; but she didn’t want to admit it。
“You can still keep the house。 I paid the first few months。 It was your Christmas present;” she said; offering a small smile。
Dan shook his head。 The house was beautiful。 It just wasn’t right for him。 Just like Serena。 “I’m sorry;” he said simply。 He hadn’t said they were over。 He didn’t have to。 Serena already seemed to know。
“I don’t want to do that goodbye stuff here。” A small smile formed on her lovely face as she glanced around the coffee shop。
She settled her gaze on Dan。 “I’ve always hated it here;” she confided。
And now she never has to go back!
it’s called a breakup because it’s broken
“To the smartest; sexiest lawyer I know! This is just the beginning; Bear。” Chuck held out a glass of champagne; waiting for Blair to clink her glass against his。 They were squeezed into a corner table at Blue Ribbon Bakery; nearby Chuck’s apartment on Thursday morning; and the bright sun streaming through the windows was only aiding Blair’s pounding headache。 She couldn’t even think about what she was planning to order for brunch; let alone toast to her future。
Since when does Blair not want to toast something?
“Future lawyer。” Blair rolled her eyes。 “I have to go to law school before I can actually practice law。”
She knew she should be more excited that she’d been officially offered a job at McMahon Cannon; but she’d received the call right in the middle of eating a bagel in Nate’s kitchen。 The offer was an unwele reminder that she really was a grownup; that the fun and giggly and totally innocent night in Nate’s bed was probably her last; that; whether she liked it or not; she’d chosen a path for her life。
Which is a heavy realization pre…brunch。
Blair cautiously sipped her champagne。 She hadn’t told Chuck where she’d spent last night。 It was just easier if he assumed she and Serena had one glass too many of wine before they’d both headed back to the Upper East Side。
“What are you thinking?”
Blair tried to suppress a sigh。 She’d always hated that question。 “What am I thinking?” she parroted。 “That there should be some fucking service here。 We’ve been sitting here for twenty minutes;” she snapped in annoyance。 She hated waiting。
“Are you okay?” Chuck asked; placing his hand protectively on top of hers。
Blair resisted the urge to pull away。 For some reason; Chuck was so annoying today。
“I’m just tired。 Maybe it’s a cold or something;” Blair lied; pulling on the sleeve of her black Vince cashmere sweater。 She hadn’t even gone home to change after the impromptu sleepover。 Maybe that was her problem。 A nap; a shower; and a change of clothes and she’d be fine。
If only it were that simple…。
Chuck nodded。 “I thought we could plan our summer; now that your job is all set。 You know; for something to look forward to。 Maybe we could do Capri or the Maldives; and then a place in Water Mill。 I don’t know if I’m ready to buy yet; though;” he mused。
Blair’s stomach lurched。 Where the fuck was the waiter? She felt like she was going to throw up。 And why was Chuck talking about buying a house in the Hamptons? She’d only just turned twenty…one。 Couldn’t they act like normal college students? She wouldn’t mind a little more fun and a little less real estate。
She took a deep breath。 She felt like the cream walls of the restaurant were closing in on her。 Around her; patrons were chatting and clinking their silverware。 But suddenly; the noise was intolerable。
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