She got to her feet and hurried over to where one of the twins was sprawled out on the sidewalk,
clutching his skinned knee and crying. His brother stood at his side, pointing an angry finger at a
rollerblader lying prone on the sidewalk.
?What?s going on Vanessa demanded, trying to sound authoritative.
?That big boy ran into Edgar!? cried Nils.
A freckle-faced blond nymphet cheerleader type in hot pink short shorts and a complicated
electric blue sports bra rolled athletically up to the scene. ?What?s going on,? she snapped, ?is that
you?re not controlling your kids, and we?re trying to get some exercise here!?
?They?re notmy kids,?Vanessa retorted, kneeling to pat the sobbing Edgar on his head. ?And you
don?t have to be rude.?
?Vanessa, Vanessa, let?s go home now,? Nils whined, pulling on her arm.
?Maybe that?s not such a bad idea,? Lycra Girl commented, kneeling to tend to her fallen
comrade. She looked like she?d rollerbladed right out of a Coors Light commercial.
?Hey.? Vanessa was in no mood to take crap from some bimbo stranger. ?Next time watch where
you?re going.?
?Vanessa Mr. rollerblader-who?d-fallen-on-his-ass demanded, struggling to sit up.
Vanessa?s eyelids flapped up and down in disbelief. Was she seeing things?
There, splayed out on the asphalt under the oaks, in the middle of Central Park, wearing
rollerblades, dorky athletic shorts, and a clingy white spandex tee, plus wristbands, kneepads, and
elbow pads, with a flushed face and messy, sweaty hair, was Dan. Her Dan.
?Dan she gasped with so much horror and confusion in her voice that Edgar actually stopped
blubbering and stood up.
?Hi.? Dan grinned sheepishly. The blond bimbo in the skimpy jog bra extended her hand and
helped him to his feet. He swiveled unsteadily on his blades.?Hey Vanessa .. . what?s up
?What?s up is she?s not paying attention to these little animals running around,? the blonde
started, tugging her shorts so high she was in grave danger of causing some severe camel
toe. ?And I?m really trying to be very Zen about this, but
?Whoare you Vanessa demanded.
?Who areyou the girl retorted bitchily.
?I?m hisgirlfriend ,?Vanessa replied.
Lycra Butt recoiled a little.
?Wait,? Vanessa insisted. ?What are youdoing She studied Dan critically. His outfit was so
completely ridiculous she could barely look at him. She turned back to the girl. ?You must be the
reason I never see Dan around the house any-more.?
?You guyslive together
The words from Dan?s poem flooded into Vanessa?s head:
Pure love. Pure lust. Trust trust.
Buddha was no Jesus. Neither am I.
I?m just a guy.
?Who are these kids, anyway Dan wondered aloud.
?We?re her friends,? snapped one of the twins?Vanessa still couldn?t tell them apart?sticking his
tongue out at Dan.
?Your friends Dan repeated.
?Right,? Vanessa snapped. ?Kind of likeshe?s your friend, right, Dan
A church bell rang down on Fifth Avenue. The sound was so pure and so totally inappropriate for
the moment, it made Vanessa want to scream.
?Vanessa The other twin tugged on her hand. ?I don?t feel so good.?
?Not now,?Vanessa responded sternly.
?I?m confused,? Dan stuttered. ?Why aren?t you on set right now
?I was fired. Not that you?d care.?
?Let?s just pause before we say anything we?re going to regret,? interrupted Short Shorts.
Pigeons were picking at the sticky remains of the twins? ice creams. If only one of them would
peck the bitchy blonde in the ass.
?Vanessa the same twin whined. ?Ireally don?t But before he could finish his sentence, he
vomited chewed-up ice cream sandwich all over Dan?s acid green Nike rollerblades.
Sothat?s the definition of bad karma.
he?s lost that lovin? feelin?
Nate?s legs felt a little shaky, the way they did when Coach caught him goofing off at practice
and sentenced him to run laps as punishment. It had been a long day of ferrying new fence posts
from the driveway, where they lay piled up higher than he stood, to various points around the yard.
He lurched into the house, arms aching and knees wobbling.
Weak in the knees?and not even because of a girl.
On his way to his bedroom he stopped in the bright, white-and-steel kitchen and rummaged in
the refrigerator. Regina, his parents? maid/caretaker/chef, kept the place well stocked but Nate
pushed aside the terrine of homemade pat? and the heirloom-tomato-and-orzo salad to grab a
bottle of Lorina orangeade. It had always been his favorite when he was a kid, but for some reason
they only ever had it when they were out in East Hampton, so he associated the light, fizzy taste
with the carefree summers of his childhood, when he?d hosted out-rageous skinny-dipping pool
parties and cleaned out his par-ents? wine cellar.
Those were the days, he thought to himself as he made his way into his bedroom. There?d been
nothing to worry about except whether it would be sunny enough to spend the afternoon at the
beach, or if he was high enough, or if he?d ever manage to hook up with Blair.
These days life was so much more complicated. Even though it was summer vacation, Nate was
stressed out about a bunch of stuff: what Tawny?s townie buddies would do to him if he ever ran
into them without Tawny, what he would say to Blair when he saw her at Yale, whether what
Chuck Bass had told him about her was true.
Clutching the open bottle, Nate collapsed into his soft, unmade bed with a groan. He closed his
eyes and tried to clear his head, but there was one person he couldn?t stop picturing.
Guess who?
Suddenly he wished he hadn?t returned the moss green cashmere V-neck Blair had given him the
spring before last when her dad took them skiing in Sun Valley. He?d put it on, close his eyes, and
remember simpler times, when he and Blair were together and all seemed right with the world.
Because, except for those times when he?d pissed her off by saying the wrong thing or getting
baked and flaking out on plans, being with Blair? however difficult she was?made Nate feel
complete, like everything was exactly the way it was supposed to be. Now Blair was going to
marry that English guy. Was it really true? Suddenly, Nate had to know.
He sat up, took a swig from the chilly bottle of orangeade and reached for the black Bang &
Olufsen telephone on his bedside table. He hesitated for a second before dialing those familiar
digits.
?It?s Blair.? She answered after a couple of rings. She sounded curt, professional, like she hadn?t
recognized the number.
?Hey.? Nate turned over onto his stomach and fiddled nervously with the sheets.
?Nate she yawned, sounding bored already. ?God, I?m sorry. I?m sotired .?
?Yeah, it?s me,? he replied sheepishly. He suddenly couldn?t remember why he had thought
calling Blair would be a good idea.
?I?m working,? Blair explained. ?It?s been a crazy week.?
?That?s cool.? Blair had ajob ? Wow, things really had changed.
?Yes,? she agreed. ?Bailey Winter has really been busting my ass.?
Nate had no idea what she was talking about but decided he should try to be
sympathetic. ?That?s too bad.?
?It?s just life in fashion. Where are you, anyway
?East Hampton. My parents? place. I?m doing some work for my coach down here, helping him
with his house.?
?I wish I could get away,? Blair replied dreamily. ?Just for a minute. But you know what it?s
like....?
?Yeah,? Nate agreed. ?If you?re working, that?s how it goes.?
?Did I mention I?m doing wardrobe on that new movie?Breakfast at Fred?s
?Cool,? Nate intoned. Why hadn?t she said anything about her engagement? ?So, you?re back
from London, I guess.?
?Oh, yes.? Blair sighed deeply, ?I had to get back to New York. I decided this was the best way
to build up my r?sum? before we start Yale, you know, get some real, professional experience
under my belt.?
?That sounds like a good plan,? Nate agreed, suddenly wishing he?d rolled a joint before making
the call. ?Especially now that you?re, you know, making plans for the future.?
?Aren?t you asked Blair. ?You?ve got to think about what lies ahead, you know that, Nate,
right
?Right,? Nate agreed, even though he rarely thought farther ahead than whether to get a burrito
or pizza for dinner. ?So, anyway, I guess I was just calling to say congratulations, you know.?
?Oh, it?s nothing. Just a little summer job with one of the best designers in America.?
?I was talking about the engagement. I heard everything.?
?Engagement Blair echoed. ?Who have you been talking to
?Chuck told me,? Nate admitted, pulling a pillow over his head.
?Chuck told you I was engaged Blair barked. ?As usual, he?s got the story all wrong.?
?What do you mean Nate pulled the pillow off and sat up.
?Well, I?m back,? Blair pointed out. ?It just wasn?t working out in London. I couldn?t marry him.
I need to think about my future.?
Like someone had actually proposed? As if.
?So you?renot getting married? I should set Chuck straight.?
Good luck with that.
?He?s an idiot,? Blair declared. ?Who cares what he thinks? Why would you ever listen to him
Nate shrugged, even though Blair couldn?t see him over the telephone. ?I just didn?t know, you
know, I hadn?t heard from you or anything. But I?m glad you?re back. I know it was always your
dream to be Katharine Hepburn, but it?s cool that at least you get to be close to the action.?
?It?sAudrey Hepburn,? Blair corrected him. ?And I?m notclose to the action, I?m an integral part
of the action. In a major motion picture like this, wardrobe is critical.?
?Remember that time we watched that movie and you kept pausing it and making me practice the
lines with you Nate reminisced wistfully. It had been a snow day and school was canceled, so
they spent the afternoon cuddling in her bed and watchingBreakfast at Tiffany?s , only Blair kept
pausing it to recite the lines and trying to convince Nate to go along with it. He?d tried, because it
was easier to just keep her happy. Now he was in the Hamptons and Blair was in New York and
their relationship was over?even the bedroom was gone, turned into Blair?s baby sister?s
luxurious pastel-colored nursery.
?I?ve decided that as a long-term career goal, working in fashion, behind the scenes, makes a lot
more sense,? Blair explained.
?Yeah,? Nate agreed. ?Serena?s the one who?s really cut out to be a movie star anyway.?
Ouch.
Blair paused for a moment. ?I should really get going, Nate. I?ve got to run some samples
uptown to the set.?
?Okay.? Nate was disappointed. ?That sounds important.?
?It is important. Have fun at the beach.? Blair hung up.
Nate pressed end and dropped the receiver onto the floor, then turned over and stared at the
ceiling.Have fun? Suddenly, the Hamptons didn?t seem fun at all. His whole summer stretched
before him and he felt lonely and isolated. He missed the city, he missed his friends, he missed
Blair.
And no island babe could ever make him forget that.
v finds a father figure
Slamming the heavy door behind her, Vanessa stormed into the foyer of the Humphrey
homestead, dropping her battered army surplus knapsack onto the creaky parquet floor and
upsetting a stack of old newspapers in the process.
?Damn!? She knelt and restacked the newspapers as tidily as she could, but the apartment was
always in such a state of disarray it hardly seemed to matter.
?What?s that a booming voice called out. ?Who?s there
Vanessa stood and looked around guiltily. She was so exhausted from her afternoon with the
tireless twins, so humiliated and pissed off from her run-in with Dan and his tight-butted
rollerblading slut, so furious about getting fired by the psychotic Ken Mogul, that she had
forgotten that she wasn?t at home: she couldn?t just stomp around, slamming doors. She was
technically a guest.
?What?s all this racket Rufus Humphrey shuffled into the dimly lit foyer, clutching a sheaf of
loose-leaf papers to his barrel chest. His thick tangle of frizzy gray shoulder-length hair was tied
up in a green twist-tie, there were peanut shells in his salt-and-pepper beard, and his glasses had
slid all the way down his broad red nose. He was wearing a tattered pair of beige cargo shorts with
several pens and highlighters sticking out of one of the pockets, a light blue way-too-tight
wine-stained polo that Vanessa recognized as one of Dan?s discarded school shirts, and a pink
plastic apron embellished with daisies.
?I?m so sorry,? Vanessa apologized. ?I didn?t mean to dis-turb you.?
?What day is this Rufus demanded, staring at her intently without any hint of recognition.
She wondered if she should remind him who she was. ?Sunday.?
?Sunday, yes, Sunday.? Rufus nodded, tearing off his rim-less reading glasses and tucking them
into one of his many pockets. ?So, are you home late or early? Should I scold you or something
Vanessa laughed, relieved that he seemed to know exactly who she was. ?Don?t worry. I can
assure you I?ve been behaving.?
?Come in, then,? he urged, turning and retreating to the steamy and disorderly kitchen. ?I?ve
been working on dinner, and I need a fresh palate to sample what I?ve come up with.?
As if she hasn?t had a rough enough day already.
Vanessa stationed herself on one of the rickety, uneven chairs at the kitchen table, sipping a glass
of murky tap water and watching Rufus Humphrey busy himself at the stove. Whatever he was
cooking it was very fragrant and it made her stomach growl noisily. The only thing she?d eaten
that day was her hastily scarfed ice cream sandwich; after the whole scene in the park she just
hadn?t been in the mood for lunch.
?Taste this,? Rufus commanded, handing Vanessa a wooden spoon.
She blew on the steaming mound of couscous and sampled it. ?Really good.?
?It?s a tagine,? Rufus informed her. ?Paul Bowles?s recipe. I totally forgot I had it. Where?s Dan?
He loves Paul Bowles. He?d get a kick out of this, I just know it. I replaced the saffron with
vermouth!?
?Dan? I?m not really sure,? Vanessa admitted. She fiddled uncomfortably with the faded white
linen place mat, which was embroidered with little lavender flowers. It seemed so out of place in
