more astute than even the teachers. And she'd always suspected that Vanessa preferred girls to
boys.
"I interviewed this guy this weekend. Turned out to be a serious weirdo."
Blair glanced at her neighbor and discovered that Vanessa was actually addressing her.
"I decided to stick with female applicants only," Vanessa added, clicking the enter button on her
keyboard for emphasis.
Blair pressed her lips together and shifted in her chair. Vanessa really did seem to be talking to her.
"I met a guy this weekend, too," she confessed. She bit her lip and pointed to Vanessa's screen.
"Why do you want a roommate anyways? I'd kill to live on my own."
Vanessa shrugged her shoulders. It was weird enough conversing with bitchy Blair Waldorf, but
even weirder still that Blair's question was actually worth thinking about.
"My sister's on tour in Europe. I don't know, I guess I get lonely," Vanessa admitted before she
could stop herself. As soon as she said it she felt like clamping her hand over her mouth. Why
would Blair Waldorf of all people even care?
"What about your boyfriend- that geek-? Blair bit her lip and corrected herself. "That boy with
the... notebook."
"We broke up."
Blair nodded, tempted to explain how she'd just broken up with her boyfriend, and how sometimes
she felt lonely too. Discreetly, she sized Vanessa up. She kind of liked how Vanessa didn't gush
about what a loser her ex-boyfriend was, complaining about gifts he'd given her, imitating the
stupid way he tied his shoes, and reiterating the whole sad saga. Vanessa was weird, but at least
she wasn't predictable. And it was well
known that Vanessa's parents lived in Vermont, so if her sister was away, she was really all on her
own.
So how does it work?" Blair asked. "Are you, like, interviewing prospective roommates?"
Vanessa had to wonder where all this was going.
"Well first I screen them through Instant Messenger, and if they sound normal I interview them.
But so far, no one's been normal."
Blair couldn't believe she was actually considering living with lesbo, baldo, weirdo, no-friends
Vanessa, but she really did need a place to live. Her own home was intolerable, and after her
run-in with Mrs. M this morning, she was pretty sure she couldn't live at the Plaza for the rest of
the school year without completely ruining her chances of getting into Yale. And what if she
needed to entertain... a guest? An apartment without parents or nannies or maids or cooks was the
perfect place, even if it had to be in dirty, disgusting Williamsburg. She might even convince
Vanessa to hire a decorator, and introduce some color to the apartment. Not that she had actually
seen Vanessa's place, but after going to school with her for the last one hundred years, she was
pretty sure the entire apartment was done entirely in black. She could make the place over
completely just like the frumpy, bookish Audrey Hepburn was made over into a fabulous fashion
model in 'My Fair Lady'!
"Interview me," she suggested.
"But-" Vanessa countered. "I live in Brooklyn."
Blair twisted her ruby ring around and around on the ring finger of her left hand. "I know." She
sighed mournfully down at her black patent leather flats and closed her eyes, trying to picture
herself as a hip, artsy Williamsburg person. She'd wear drab green t-shirts with ironic decals on
them like WILLIAMSBURG IS FOR LOVERS. She'd take her coffee black. She'd wear Converse
sneakers without socks and carry a vintage purple plastic handbag. She'd get orange highlights and
wear black octagonally framed glasses. She'd eat falafel. She'd write poetry. She'd get a lip ring
and a tattoo! Oh, wouldn't Nate just die. A smile spread across her face. "I've always wanted to
live in Brooklyn."
Yeah, right.
"No, you-" Vanessa began in attempt to dissuade her.
"You have cable, TiVo, and a DVD player, right?" Blair demanded.
Wait, who's supposed to interview who?
"I have to watch my movies," Blair insisted, like a TV-dinner-eating old biddy who couldn't
survive without her daily dose of Regis and Kelly.
"Movies?" Vanessa repeated, wondering if Blair had completely lost her mind. She'd forgotten that
Blair was a huge old movie fan. Back in November, Blair had even entered a film contest at
school. all she'd done was replay the first ten minutes of 'Breakfast at Tiffany's' over and over to
different music, because in her opinion it was the perfect first ten minutes of any film ever.
Vanessa had won the contest with her version of 'War and Peace', starring her former best friend
Dan Humphrey as the dying Prince Andrei. That had been before they'd even kissed- what seemed
like a century ago.
"Anything starring Audrey Hepburn. Or Jimmy Stewart. Or Cary Grant. Or Lauren Bacall." Blair
clarified breathlessly. "And of course, 'Gone With the Wind'."
If there was one thing Vanessa had plenty of, it was film equipment, TVs, videos, and DVDs.
"Don't worry. I'm majoring in film at NYU next year. I have everything," Vanessa assured her. "All
the classics."
"And how do you get to school?" Blair demanded, wondering if she might have to learn to drive.
Keeping her eyes on her computer screen, she wiggled her mouse to give the impression that she
was hard at work. "Isn't there, like, some bridge you have to cross?"
Considering Manhattan is an Island, then yes probably a bride would be involved.
Vanessa decided to humor her. Not that Blair Waldorf really wanted to live in her dodgy, graffitied
Brooklyn apartment building with its view of other dodgy, graffitied Brooklyn apartment buildings.
"The L train goes to Union Square and then I change for the 6."
Huh?
Blair frowned. Was she talking about the subway?
"If the weather's really bad or I'm really late, I call a car service," Vanessa admitted.
Aha!
"And do you mind... you know, visitors?" Blair asked.
As in male visitors?
Vanessa laughed. "As long as they don't smell and they bring food."
Blair nodded seriously. She'd have her very own apartment in which to have wild crazy sex with
Stan 5 or any other boy she chose, and she would turn herself into the sexiest, most pierced and
tattooed girl in Williamsburg, Nate would go absolutely crazy with regret. "I think this could work
out, don't you?"
Vanessa's brown eyes has ceased blinking. "But we hate each other," she said matter-of-factly.
Blair rolled her eyes and knocked her tanned bony knee against Vanessa's pale round one. "Oh,
don't be such a snob," she huffed, really getting into her new role as Vanessa's long-lost hipster
sister. "Now, about your boyfriend problem," she continued, as if the matter was already closed.
"The thing is, and no offense, but I bet you're only attracted to guys who are kind of 'alternative',
like you-" Blair clamped her mouth shut, as her brain underwent a light bulb moment. Why she'd
never thought of it before she didn't know, but her dreadlocked so-called alternative stepbrother
Aaron and the shaven-headed, black-wearing Vanessa were absolutely the perfect couple! They
could paint each other's toenails black, cook vegan sushi, film each other's hair or lack thereof, and
otherwise entertain themselves while she was busy seducing the boy who was going to get her into
Yale.
See, maybe Williamsburg really is for lovers!
Gossipgirl.net
HEY PEOPLE!
THE ODD COUPLE
Who would've thunk it? A girl married to her eight-hundred-hundred-dollar Manolos has
tentatively moved in with a classmate who has never worn anything on her feet but steel-toed Doc
Marten boots and black Danskin knee socks. One thing is for sure, they won't be sharing clothes.
But since they come from two entirely different planets, they definitely have a lot to talk about and
a lot to learn. A sample conversation:
"Have you seen the brush for my Stila bronzing powder?
"Oh are you doing an art project?"
I'm taking all bets for how long this crazy sleepover is going to last!
QUEL DESATRE!
Word alsohas it that a certain French tie-dye-wearing hippie chick has told the entire world that
she and our favorite stoner lacrosse jock aren't just seeing each other- they're in love. Uh-oh.
Your e-mail
Q: Dear GG,
I volunteer in the admissions office at my college, which happens to be one of the lvies, and my
friends and I have spent a lot of time courting this one incoming freshmen because we think she'd
be the perfect pledge for our sorority. She'd gorgeous and smart and talented- just like we are. The
thing is, she hasn't answered a single one of our e-mails. I know it sounds corny, but what if we
sent her, like, a care package or something- do you think it would help?
-PrincetonBabe
A: Dear Princeton Babe,
I hate to break it to you, but I don't think so.
-GG
SIGHTINGS
C at Tower Records buying a pirated version of the latest Raves single starring none other than D,
who is supposedly his least-favorite person of all time. Is it the music or the words that he can't
resist? K and I sampling acne-clearing Origins products at the Madison Avenue store and
inadvertently slipping a few freebies into their Tod's bags when the sales assistant turned her back.
B and V plying the grocery store delivery man with a box of Godiva truffles to get him to carry
their shopping bags up three flights to their apartment door. And those were those black-and-white
toile curtains with balloon valances we saw in the windows? Guess they're both learning to
compromise!
THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM,
This week I've actually witnessed my classmates hanging around in front of school after it gets out,
chatting about their summer plans, and drinking iced lattes. A few weeks ago we were skipping
class to sunbathe in the park, listening to out MP3s and barely speaking to one another. Now we
don't know what to do with ourselves, and we can't stand to be alone. Chalk it up to the cloudy,
humid, airless May weather, and the fact that in less than four weeks some of us will never see
each other again. I'm also convinced that something's cooking. Just watch: Come Friday, all hell
will break loose.
I'll be there with bells on!
You know you love me,
Gossip Girl
S IS UNIMPRESSED
A nice-sized trust fund from his great-grandfather, who was involved in the invention of Velcro,
and the money from the Raves' best selling album, 'Jimmy and Jane'. Had bought twenty-three
year old Damian Polk a cute four story white town house with red shutters on quaint Bedford
Street was only three blocks long, dotted with intimate restaurants, cozy cafés, historic houses, a
famous speakeasy, and gorgeous gay men walking their toy dogs. Outside, the house looked like
an antique dollhouse, but inside it was a showplace for modern, minimalist white furniture. Rumor
had it that although Damian wore all sorts of colors onstage, he never wore anything but white
inside his house, and never allowed his guests to wear anything but white either, not even blue
jeans.
Too bad he forgot to tell certain people that particular rule.
The front door was standing open, and Serena climbed the white and marble steps to the second
floor, wearing her favorite pair of Blue Cult flares, a cropped hot pink T-shirt, and a crazy pair of
Hollywood hot pink platform flip flops that were a challenge to walk in. She could hear some sort
of psychedelic jazz music playing, the clink of glasses, and the murmur of voices.
Jenny Humphrey was sitting cross-legged on the white lacquered counter top of the island in
Damian's white open kitchen, drinking a glass of milk. Her hair was in pigtails and she was
wearing a white cotton undershirt and white cotton boxer shorts.
"Hey!" she cried, bouncing off the counter to greet Serena. "Damian said you were coming. He's
in the shower." She tip-toed over in her bare feet and tilted her lily white chin up to kiss Serena's
cheek. "I'm so glad you're here."
Well, hello, little hostess to the mostest! What a change from the Jenny who only last week was
completely gaga at the opportunity to be invited into Serena's home. And wasn't she like banned
from hanging out wit the Raves ever again?
As if that made a difference.
"I snuck out," Jenny whispered. "Dad was watching some totally boring Allen Ginsberg
documentary. He thinks I'm in my room, like, painting or something."
Ah, painting. It used to be her only pastime, back when she was young and innocent.
Serena smiled down at her petite, curly-haired protégé, feeling oddly out of place. The other
party-goers lounged on the white suede sectional sofa in the vaulted white living room adjoining
the kitchen, dressed head-t-toe in white, drinking giant gin martinis with hard-boiled eggs floating
in them. One wall of the living room was decorated with white paper snow flake cut-outs like the
kind you made in kindergarten, and another wall was painted to look like bookshelves filled with
white books.
Because real books are too colorful?
A tall skinny guy was sitting on a wooly white polar bear rug wearing only a white terrycloth
bathrobe. A huge brown-and-black dog lay beside him, its enormous brown-and-black head buried
in his lap- the only bit of color in an entirely white room.
"Ooh la la!" Jenny chirped giddily as Damian appeared, still damp from the shower and wearing
nothing but a pair of white cashmere sweatpants. His reddish blond hair was still damp, and drops
