was wrong. I think I just fell into the trap of being excited by theidea of someone new, even
though we were totally wrong for each other.?
?Really Nate coughed. The thing Dan had just described sounded sort of familiar.
?The thing is,? Dan continued, waxing philosophical, ?there?s a girl downstairs, and she?s the
one, man. She?s theone .?
Which one?
?I think I know exactly what you mean,? Nate added, his voice an octave higher than
normal. ?And that chick was right, too?there are, like, paths, right, and sometimes they just . . .
diverge. Right
Whoa.
?I don?t know about paths,? Dan replied, even though the whole paths-diverging thing was
actually borrowed from Robert Frost?s poem ?The Road Less Traveled,? which he?d actually
quoted in his graduation speech. ?I?m kind of sick of all this New Age bullshit, to tell you the
truth.?
?Yeah asked Nate. It sounded kind of cool to him.
Of course it did.
n exits stage left
Nate pushed past a couple of girls in fullon shimmy mode and scanned the room. It was so
crowded he could barely find a familiar face.
Or maybe he was just too baked.
He hadn?t expected to have any kind of epiphany at this dumb Hollywood party. This was
supposed to be the summer when he got serious, when he turned his back on parties and pot and
chasing girls who were more trouble than they were worth. This was supposed to be the summer
he worked hard and used his hands and did some honest, challenging labor and got to know
himself and prepared for his career at Yale. Captain Archibald and even Coach Michaels were
determined that Nate head off to Yale a different man, a new man, able to handle responsibility.
And now, suddenly, Nate felt like he alreadywas that new guy.
That was fast.
Something Dan had said really stuck with him: his life was right here, waiting for him, inside this
shitty, overcrowded apartment. The girl he was meant to be with was right here, and the only
honorable thing to do was to break the news to the girl hewasn?t meant to be with.
But he couldn?t find Tawny?s familiar golden mane any-where: the place was that packed. Nate
pushed his way across the dance floor, ignoring the beckoning wave of some short, overly tanned
weirdo who was wearing sunglasses even though they were inside. There was no time for small
talk: he was a man on a mission.
Nate slipped into the tiny sliver of a kitchen and hopped up onto the countertop. From that
vantage, he surveyed the apartment, looking for Tawny. The apartment was completely packed.
There were faces he recognized?Isabel and Kati huddled in a corner, whispering to each other as
usual; that pale, grim-looking bald girl was talking to some little kids?but for the most part, the
room was crowded with strangers
Then there she was: her distinct blond hair was unmistak-able. It was full and wavy and fell over
her tan freckled shoulders, one of which was bare where her peach-colored top had slipped off.
Nate had to admit it was pretty sexy. He saw that she was grinding with Chuck Bass, who?d
unzipped his mint-green shirt and was gyrating bare-chested to a dance remix of that Ciara song.
Ew.
Nate felt a tug on the leg of his Trovata khakis and looked down to see Serena smiling up at him.
?Whatcha looking for she asked, hoisting herself up onto the countertop beside him.
?Hey,? Nate said, helping her up. He was grateful for the company of an old friend.
Serena scanned the room and looked in the direction in which Nate was staring intently, watching
the almost-obscene display of Chuck and Tawny dancing.
?You know,? Serena whispered into Nate?s ear. Her breath was sweet and tickled him pleasantly.
It was a nice, familiar sensation. ?You don?t have anything to worry about. Chuck Bass is just a
horny, harmless jerk-off, and we love him for it.?
?I?m not worried,? Nate told her. ?It?s not like that.?
?It?s not asked Serena. She knew Nate, and she definitely knew better than to believe him
when it came to girls. He basically always got it wrong.
She?s an actress, remember? She onlyplays stupid.
?I thought it was, but I was wrong,? Nate admitted. ?Hey, where are they going Tawny had
taken Chuck by the hand and the two slipped behind a nearby door.
?That?s the bathroom,? Serena observed.
Double ew.
?Whatever.? Nate shrugged. He?d passed the point in his life where he was interested in girls
who slipped into the bathroom at parties with guys they barely knew. He didn?t care what was
going on behind that door right now. Then, on the dance floor, barefoot and beaming, he spotted
Blair, firmly in the embrace of a much-taller guy in a conservative gray suit. Their lips met and
Nate had to shut his eyes.
?I?m taking off,? he muttered. He?d had enough of this party. Nate shot his familiar, disarming,
lopsided grin in Serena?s direction. Then he hopped off the countertop and disappeared into the
crowd.
cue music, roll credits
Serena remained on the counter and pulled out the cigarette she?d wisely tucked behind her left
ear. She smoothed out the wrinkles in her ?borrowed? black Bailey Winter dress, turned on one of
the stove?s burners, and bent to light her cigarette in the flame. She took a long drag, turned the
stove off, and turned her attention back to the still-pulsating dance floor.
?Where did Nate go Blair stormed into the kitchen.
?Who knows laughed Serena, helping Blair up onto the counter next to her. She handed Blair
her lit Merit Ultra Light and surveyed the scene with a satisfied smile on her perfect
lips. ?Where?s Jason
?He?s going down to his apartment,? Blair explained. ?He?s got some leftover fried chicken in
the fridge and I?m starving.?
?You?re so lucky,? Serena cooed, taking her cigarette back from Blair.
Yeah, Blair?s the one with all the luck.
Serena slipped her hand into Blair?s. She leaned over and whispered into her friend?s ear, which
was adorned that evening with one of those famous BvlgariB s, ?This summer is going to be
amazing.?
Blair set her dark head on Serena?s shoulder. ?I hope the Hamptons is big enough for all of us.?
Serena squeezed Blair?s knee in response. Blair surveyed the living room. If she blinked, it
lookedexactly like the party scene inBreakfast at Tiffany?s . She?d dreamed of this moment so
many times, she?d lived this moment, in the movie in her head, so many times over that it felt
familiar. It felt wonderful.
There were Kati and Isabel, wearing matching black Tocca dresses and trying to hide the fact that
they were whispering about Blair and Serena by smiling and waving excitedly. Blair could
practically imagine what the two of them were saying about her. There was Chuck Bass, spinning
that fluffy, tan blonde around, his bare chest slicked with sweat. Every other person was looking
intheir direction. Was it Serena or was it Blair who had caught their attention? Did it really matter?
Nope.
The DJ?a frantically sweating guy whom Bailey Winter couldn?t stop ogling?switched the
records, and he must have been reading Blair?s mind: the apartment filled with a taut staccato beat,
and then a sexy voice sang some very familiar words:
Moon River, wider than a mile . . .
I?ll be crossing you in style, someday.
Dream maker, you heartbreaker . . .
?It?s me!? Serena cried.
?You sound incredible,? Blair told her honestly, clutching Serena?s hand.
In the movie inside her head, this was the perfect closing scene. The music was just right, and the
crowd was going wild dancing. An adorable guy was preparing a plate of cold fried chicken for
her in his downstairs apartment. Even though it was just an unfurnished dump, the apartment felt
totally glamorous. Blair was thrilled. This was her place. This was her party. Sure, the movie
might be ending, but really, summer was just beginning.
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protect the innocent. Namely, me.
hey people!
Oh. My. God. I didn?t think it was possible to have the kind ofhangover I am currently suffering
through, but then it?s myown fault: when am I going to learn not to overdo it on thechampagne?
Then again, I always have been the life of theparty. And what a party! I?m sure those of you who
were luckyenough to be in attendance will agree: the second-biggest,bestest blowout of the
summer. Looks like someone is shapingup to be the hostess with the mostest, don?t you think?
mix and match
Dying to know who went home with whom? I?ve got the full dossier:
T is indeed a one-man guy. The second the party ended hegrabbed the first available cab and sped
down to the Mercer,where he met up with his secret sweetie. I hear the two ofthem spent the next
forty-eight hours ensconced in the honeymoon suite.
That fabulous designer, the one who insists on wearing his mirrored Ray-Ban aviators inside at
night, lured that dreamboatDJ back to his manse on Park Avenue, no doubt with the promise of a
free outfit from his new menswear line. Wonder if the DJ will be spinning vinyl out in the
Hamptons for the restof the summer ...
S went to bed alone. Will wonders never cease?
D and V shared a taxi back to his?um, their place on the Upper West Side, but the romance is
officially dead. Separate bedrooms, people. Separate bedrooms.
N was spotted on a very late-night LIRR train out to the island, all alone. So what became of . . .
Trashy bottled-tan-and-bottle-blond girl? She and C kept the party going, hitting the club circuit
and ending up at Bungalow 8 at 5 a.m. They still haven?t been heard from.
Want to know why S went to bed alone? Because her roomie was crashed out downstairs. But B
was definitely not alone....
if we took a holiday ...
People, let?s not forget that the summer was made for relaxing. July is just around the corner, and
by the time Bastille Day rolls around (isn?t that someone?s birthday?) we?ll officially be halfway
through the break. There will be plenty of time for work come fall, for midterms and fraternity
mixers and worrying about interviewing for the best internships for next summer. This is our time
to play, so get down to business and just . . . chill. Oh, who am I kidding? In this town, we never
just chill! Okay, maybe N does, but the rest of us never slow down. Speaking of never slowing
down . . .
WillB break another heart? She?s already cast aside two suitors, and it?s not even July!
WillS be able to adjust to life without the cameras rolling? Will she share the limelight with B in
the Hamptons, or will she go Hollywood and spend the rest of her days with her new BFF T?
WillN make nice withB ? Will he go crawling back toS ? Or has he finally given up on chasing
girls and decided to grow up? And have we heard the last from his little summer fling? Methinks
not. After all, he still has lots of work to do on his lax coach?s house....
What about the Hamptons? Will this vacation playland for the rich and famous be big enough
forB ,S , andN ? What about the rest of Manhattan?s elite? The location might be changing, but
the stars are character actors?they never really change.
And seriously: what the hell is going on withV andD ? Odds are three-to-one they re?hook up by
July Fourth. Any gamblers out there?
I?m going to stay on the case and get some answers. It is, after all, my summer job, and I?m the
hardest worker I know. Someone?s got to do it.
You know you love me.
gossip girl
Once upon a time on the Upper East Side of New York City, two beautiful girls fell in love with
one perfect boy....
?
Turn the page for a sneak peek of
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?
it had to be you
the gossip girl prequel
?
and find out how it all began.
by the #1 New York Times bestselling author
Cecily von Ziegesar
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Disclaimer: All the real names of places, people, and events have been altered or abbreviated to
protect the innocent. Namely, me.
hey people!
Ever have that totally freakish feeling that someone is listening in on your conversations, spying
on you and your friends, following you to parties, and generally stalking you? Well, they are. Or
actually, I am. The truth is, I?ve been here all along, because I?m one of you.
Feeling totally lost? Don?t get out much? Don?t know who ?we? are? Allow me to explain.
We?re an exclusive group of indescribably beautiful people who happen to live in those majestic,
green-awninged, white-glove-doorman buildings near Central Park. We attend Manhattan?s most
elite single-sex private schools. Our families own yachts and estates in various exotic locations
throughout the world. We frequent all the best beaches and the most exclusive ski resorts. We?re
seated immediately at the nicest restaurants in the chicest neighborhoods without a reservation.
We turn heads. But don?t confuse us with Hollywood actors or models or rock stars?those people
you feel like you know because you hear so much about them, but who are actually completely
boring compared to the parts they play or the songs they sing. There?s nothing boring about me or
my friends, and the more I tell you about us, the more you?re going to want to know. I?ve kept
quiet until now, but something has happened and I just can?t stay quiet about it. . . .
We learned in our first eleventh-grade creative writing class this week that most great stories
begin in one of the following fashions: someone mysteriously disappears or a stranger comes to
town. The story I?m about to tell is of the ?someone mysteriously disappears? variety.
To be specific,S is gone.
In order to unravel the mystery of why she?s left and where she?s gone, I?m going to have to
backtrack to last winter?the winter of our sopho-more year?when the La Mer skin cream hit the
fan and our pretty pink rose-scented bubble burst. It all started with three inseparable, perfectly
