counter…top。 ？Get in here。？
？You lookfine。 ？ Serena leaned into the bathroom to grab Blair？s forearm。 ？Let？s just go。 I？m
dying for a drink。？
？Look。？ Blair shook the basket angrily。 ？Does this strike you as at all suspicious？？
Serena glanced at the baby…pink plastic bottle inside the trash can。 ？Nair。？ She
paused。 ？Whatever。 I mean； I prefer a waxing； but who knows what they do in Latvia or
wherever。？
？There？s something weird going on。？ Blair？s eyes darted all over the bathroom； looking for signs
of criminal activity。 She felt like Audrey Hepburn inCharade。 She justknew she was in danger。 She
couldsense it。 Of course！ It dawned on her at last； and she threw open the creamy linen shower
curtain； sending its sleek gold hanging rings clattering。
？What？s going on？？ Serena yawned； smoothing the waist of her Chlo？ micropleated cotton
sundress。
？I know they？re up to something。？ Blair grabbed her bottle of Kerastase shampoo from the shelf
in the shower。 ？And I know it can？t possibly be anything original。 And I think we both know that
the Nair…in…the…shampoo thing is the most obvious trick in the world。 Remember that time？ At
Isabel？s sleepover？ When we were； like； eleven？？
Serena just stared at her。
？Well；I remember。？ Blair unscrewed the top of the bottle。 She didn？t even need to sniff it to
realize that someone had indeed tried to pull a switch on her？the powerful chemical fart stench of
the depilatory was unmistakable。 ？Bitches！？ she swore。 ？It？s a fucking good thing I wanted to
have beach hair。？ She touched her brown locks worriedly to make sure they were still there。 ？Now
it？s fuckingwar。 ？
Dignified and determined； Blair and Serena burst out of the guest house？s French doors and onto
the white pebble path leading to the swimming pool。 Blair surveyed the crowd； seeing now that
they were all men。 Every single one。Whoa。 A hundred； maybe a hundred and fifty people； and the
only girls in sight were her and Serena？and Ibiza and Svetlana； of course。
？My dad wouldtotally love this。？ Blair almost wished that her fabulous gay dad； Harold Waldorf；
and his much…younger French boyfriend； Etienne or Edouard or whatever…thefuck his name was；
weren？t off living the good life in the south of France。 She wanted someone besides Serena to
witness what was about to happen。
？My girls are here！？ Bailey Winter emerged from a thicket of silver…haired news…anchory types；
all of whom seemed to be wearing blue blazers and white pants； despite the fact that it was easily
eighty degrees。 Bailey himself wore a similar ensemble； but with three…quarter…length sleeves and
pant legs that left his neon…orange…and…hot…pink argyle knee socks and white nubuck saddle shoes
exposed。 Skipping up the path to Blair and Serena； he extended one chubby hand to each of them；
his entourage of five yelping pugs following closely on his heels。
？e； girls； make a Bailey sandwich。？ He giggled。 ？Hopefully it won？t be the only threesome
I？m in tonight。？ He grinned and gave a little wave to the shirtless DJ。
？Lovely party；？ Blair plimented Bailey； noticing the many barely clothed waiters circulating
with champagne flutes。
？Thank you； darling！？ Bailey squealed。 ？Step； step； ladies。 We need to get you some drinks！？ He
dashed off in the direction of the bar； pulling the two along with him like puppies on a
leash。 ？Bartender！？ he barked at the golden surfer…boy model…type who was behind the bar。 His
uniform； like those of the rest of the waitstaff； consisted of a low…cut Bailey Winter Gar？on
cotton…and…cashmere vest over his perfectly defined bare chest。
？What do my pets want？？ Bailey cooed。
？Two Negronis。？ Blair turned to scan the crowd； a blur of white trousers against the green grass；
perfect haircuts and impressive muscles peeking out of too…short sleeves。
Then she spotted them： Ibiza and Svetlana； clad in white。 Copycat bitches。 Svetlana wore a tacky；
stretchy asymmetrical dress that emphasized her basically nonexistent chest。 Ibiza had squeezed
herself into a backless white hot pants jumpsuit that looked like something Blair？s mother might
have worn to Studio 54； like； thirty years ago。 Nasty。
Why not do something about it then？
？Here you are。？ The bartender handed Blair two tumblers filled with the rich； orange liquid。 ？I？m
Gavin。？
？Thank you； Gavin。？ Serena batted her eyelashes at him。 ？So 。 。 。 are you out here all summer？？
she asked； leaning against the weathered…wood bar。
？Not now；？ Blair snapped； grabbing her friend？s arm。
She had no patience for Serena？s flirting？not when they had a job to do。
？Sorry。？ Serena took a small sip of the bittersweet cock…tail。 ？I was just having a little fun。 He？s
probably the only nongay guy here。？
？Bailey； I？d like to get a closer look at the DJ booth；？ Blair announced。
？Oh； honey； you read mymind。 ？ Bailey guided the two by their elbows around the perimeter of
the pool toward the pink…trimmed white cabana that had been erected for the occasion。 ？He？s
positively scrumptious； don？t you think？ Oh； shoo； girls。？ He waved away Ibiza and Svetlana；
who were pawing through the milk crates packed with records。 ？He？s gotwork to do！？
？Ve？re helping him；？ Ibiza protested； pouting and sipping at her chardonnay。
？Sure you are。？ Bailey winked sarcastically at Blair。
？Why don？t we all go over there and chat？？ Blair pointed at an all…white seating area next to the
pool。
？Yes； yes； you girls go sit？I mean； I had those cushions specially made just for this party。 That is
the most divine bleached Italian silk。 Very rare。 Very special。 So lounge； e on； look pretty。 Go
on； run along。？ Bailey raised his tiny Tiffany champagne flute in salute。 ？I？ll stay here and keep an
eye on our music man； don？t you worry！？
Ibiza and Svetlana arranged themselves on the over…stuffed； raw…silk pillows stationed poolside。
Blair and Serena stood above them； grimacing。
？He？s a gay； you do know？？ Ibiza sipped her wine and stared coldly at Blair。
Blair looked down at her。 It was almost like looking in a particularly fucked…up trick mirror at a
carnival。 ？Yes； I？m aware； thanks。？
？I just thought； you know； you hold hands with him； I tell you； you know； don？t expect anything
to happen；？ Ibiza continued。
？Why would I expect anything to happen？？ Blair looked blankly at Serena。
？I don？t know。？ Serena shrugged。
？I mean； what could happen？？ Blair smiled； then suddenly tripped spastically forward。 Her
still…untouched deep…orange cocktail flew at Ibiza？s chest。 She grabbed Serena？s arm to steady
herself； which caused Serena？s drink to spill all over Svetlana？s head。
What are the odds？
The crowd clustered around the quartet gave a collective； horrified gasp as everything？the white
dresses； the white pillows； Svetlana？s white…blond hair？turned a deep tangerine color right before
their eyes。
？Oh goodness； what have I done？？ Blair used her white…and…cream striped cocktail napkin to dab
delicately at the front of Ibiza？s dress。
？Ees ruined； you beetch。 Is Versace！？ Ibiza waved her away irritably。
？What happened？？ Bailey Winter dashed toward them； palms pressed against his cheeks in
dismay。 His five pugs barked uneasily at the crowd。 ？What？s going on？ Someone spilled？ Oh my
word！ Mypillows！ ？
？They do this！？ barked Ibiza； the tangerine stain spreading across her hideous formerly white
jumpsuit。 Between the stain and her brassy highlights and too…orange tan； she was beginning to
look like a clementine…colored Oompa Loompa。 ？They do on purpose！？
？We better go get some towels。。。。？ Blair backed away from the scene and into the
still…stunned…silent crowd。
？Towels。？ Serena nodded seriously。 She pulled at her own white…blond locks； tying the ends in a
knot to hold them in place。
？I need a minute alone； please！？ Bailey Winter raised his hands and started shooing。 ？Everyone；
please； just back to the party。 Pretend I？m not here。？
That？s right： ignore the weeping man in neon argyle surrounded by barking dogs。
？We？ll give you a minute。？ Blair grabbed Serena？s hand and pulled her through the crowd of
men。 By the time they reached the lawn； both of them were nearly hysterical with giggles。
？What now？？ Serena gasped。 ？We can？t go back there。？
Blair dropped her crystal…cut tumbler to the ground； where it landed with a thud。 ？Can we make
it over this？？ She stood on her tiptoes to more closely examine the redwood fence that separated
the Winter estate from the Archibald residence。
Of course you can。 In heels。
？Definitely。？ Serena placed her glass on the spongy grass and pulled herself up onto the fence。
Blair followed her； easily maneuvering her body over the fence and landing on the grassy lawn
beyond it。 She inspected her pale yellow dress？there was a stain across the bodice from where
she？d touched the fence。 ？Bollocks；？ she swore。
No pain； no gain。
？Blair？ Serena？？
Blair looked up from her ruined dress to find exactly who she？d secretly hoped to find in the
Archibalds？ yard。
？Hello； Nate。？ She tucked her hair behind her ear and smiled。
？I heard someo