Don't You Forget About Me (24 page)

Better start rowing, boy.

what goes around comes around. . . .

Serena’s chest felt hollow as she watched Nate bury his face in Blair’s perfumed neck. They looked so ecstatic and in love that she had to turn away. What was going on? She’d thought they were barely even speaking anymore. Serena grabbed a flute of champagne and downed it, reaching for another. The golden bubbles tickled her nose and she sneezed twice. If she had to watch them practically do it right in front of her, she’d better drink herself silly.

Of course all she had to do was wait, but the waiting was killing her. Blair was would be off to Yale in the morning and Nate would be staying right here in New York. Finally, she’d have him all to herself, and years from now, when Blair came home from Yale with her perfect collegiate investment banker fiancé and Nate and Serena were in love—true, spend-the-rest-of-your-life-together love—they’d laugh at the idea that Blair and Nate had ever even been together. It would be some warm but distant memory, like Buck Naked or the alligator costume. Blair would be her maid of honor, and just before walking down the aisle she’d whisper in Serena’s ear that she was sorry she’d stood in their way all those years.
Of course
Serena and Nate were meant to be together.

Right. Because it’s just like Blair to do that.

Kati Farkas and Isabel Coates stumbled by, teetering on their obscenely high Manolos and clutching each other’s arms to keep from falling down, their eyes glassy and bright.

“Hey Serena!” Kati giggled, her zebra-striped Norma Kamali dress sliding down her nonexistent chest. “You don’t have a date either? You should come with us—we’re going to snag some Greek gods!” Isabel erupted in a fit of giggles. “How about that one?” She pointed across the room at a painted figure wearing a barely there loincloth made entirely out of silvery olive branches. Kati started to hiccup uncontrollably, which made both girls laugh even harder. The painted god grinned at Isabel, his white-plaster curls falling over his painted and powdered angular features.

“Hold this,” Isabel slurred, handing her drink to Kati. She staggered over to the god and climbed up on the small dais supporting him. Without so much as a hello, she grabbed the male statue and kissed him, white paint smearing her black crepe D&G Grecian gown.

Way to leave town with a bang.

Serena turned away and checked her reflection in the long mirror hanging behind the bar. After much deliberation—though not nearly as much as Blair—she’d chosen a low-cut silvery Valentino cocktail dress with silver trim around the waist. Her legs looked endless beneath the midlength skirt, finished off with a pair of gold Christian Louboutin sandals with their trademark red soles. Normally she preferred one of her brother’s old BROWN T-shirts and her ratty Sevens, but tonight she felt a bit like Cinderella, hoping to win the prince’s heart. She glanced back at where Nate and Blair had been standing. Nate was now alone, leaning against the wall and staring pensively out into the crowd, with Blair nowhere in sight.

Serena pushed through the throng of revelers, waving at Blair’s little brother Tyler and his girlfriend, Jasmine, who were ballroom dancing rather adorably, despite the fact that Gwen Stefani’s “Hollaback Girl” was playing. Tyler just tipped his head at her, clearly engrossed in his waltz. Serena kept walking until she was standing right where she belonged—directly in front of Nate. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked at him. In his black Hugo Boss tux, crisp white shirt, and shiny dark Prada loafers, he really did look princely.

“Hey.” His face broke into a wide grin when he saw her. “Hey, yourself.” She stepped a little closer and reached for his hand. He closed his fingers around hers, and Serena breathed a sigh of relief at the warm touch of his skin. “You okay?” “Yeah.” Nate shrugged his shoulders. “I guess.” He dropped her hand, his eyes shifting nervously away and then back again.

“It’ll be easier tomorrow, after Blair leaves.” She took his hand again and squeezed it tightly in her own. It was torture to have to stand next to him like this and not really be able to touch him. All she wanted was to pull him close and kiss him, until Blair, the party, and the whole world fell away, leaving just the two of them.

“Yeah.” Nate’s eyes were shiny with emotion. “You look really beautiful tonight.” His voice trembled. Was he struggling to keep his hands off her, just like she was?

She tossed her long blond hair over one shoulder. “My hair does look a little better when I brush it,” she joked. Behind them Tyler spun Jasmine around and around. Jasmine looked like she was about to puke all over her cute purple plaid satin Marc Jacobs halter dress.

Nate bit his lip nervously. “Blair wants me to meet her at Grand Central tomorrow at ten.” He wanted to tell her the rest—that Blair wanted to meet him there because she’d gotten him back into Yale, that he wasn’t sure whether to go or not go. But Serena looked so beautiful and trusting, he didn’t have the heart.

Or the balls.

“Well, we should both go—I want to see her off too.” Serena squeezed his arm. One more day and they’d be together forever.

Nate wrapped his arms around her and held her close, breathing in the familiar scent of patchouli and lilies—a scent he knew as well as his own. He’d loved her ever since he could remember, but he’d loved Blair too. And he wanted to be with both girls, always and forever.

So why don’t they all move to Utah?

“I love you,” Serena said, her voice catching in her throat. Nate held her, squeezing her tight. “I love you too.” And true love never lies.

v is a femme fatale

Vanessa leaned against a podium, sipping champagne as she tried to subtly rearrange her light blue silk Betsey Johnson party dress. She tugged at the ridiculously short hem and wished for the hundredth time that night that she’d chosen something more comfortable—and in her usual shade of pure black—instead of something so girly. She’d changed into a pair of ridiculously uncomfortable heels after the wedding, worried the bouncers would take one look at her combat boots and kick her out of Blair’s fancy party. Maybe she’d find a table and coax Dan into giving her a foot massage. If he ever got here.

She glanced around the wildly extravagant Roman-themed party, searching for his mop of unruly brown hair. After their intense eye-lock while he read his poem aloud at the wedding, Vanessa was dying to talk to him. But she’d lost him during Ruby’s crazy reception and could only hope that Jenny would drag him up to the party sometime soon. Vanessa had made sure both their names were added to the list; it was only a matter of waiting. In the meantime, she was going to enjoy herself.

She tried to look sultry, throwing her shoulders back and arching her back the way Blair had taught her. But then she felt a little splash on her leg—of course, she’d spilled her drink. She bent down and tried to wipe the droplets off her bare calf with her cocktail napkin, her dress riding dangerously high. She straightened. It hadn’t occurred to that she couldn’t do the same things in a dress that she did in jeans. She quickly scanned the room to make sure no one had seen her privates.

But damn if some dude wasn’t headed straight toward her. No, not some dude,
Aaron.
Of course he was here, he was Blair’s stepbrother—why hadn’t she thought of that? But when did he get so . . .
hot
? His hair was knotted in dread-locks that tumbled messily over his forehead, and his brown eyes sparkled against his tanned skin. He wore a dark green, three-button suit, and a green silk tie hung loosely around his neck. She stood up straight and tried to look composed, but as she did the pedestal she’d been leaning against shook. She looked up to see the female nude statue above her move suddenly, before it struck a new pose.

Vanessa hadn’t seen Aaron since they’d broken up at the beginning of the summer. After they’d been together for only a few weeks, Aaron had given her a silver friendship ring, which was totally corny—and, for Vanessa, a total deal-breaker. She’d immediately thrown it in a drawer. Considering she hadn’t been able to stop sleeping with Dan at the time, it was probably for the best.

“Hey, stranger!” Aaron grabbed her hand, pulling her into a hug. He finally released her, stepping back to look her up and down with obvious approval. “You look gorgeous. I was hoping to see you tonight.” His red lips curved into a big smile.

Vanessa raised her eyebrows. “It’s good to see you too. Want to trade shoes?” Aaron laughed. “I’d look pretty hot in those,” he agreed, pointing at her light blue Robert Clergerie heels.

“So, how was your road trip?” she asked, remembering that a couple of months ago she was supposed to be on that trip. She’d stayed behind to be with Dan, and now he was gay.

Good call on that one.

“It was great.” Aaron kept his eyes on Vanessa’s décol-letage as the busty statue above them rearranged her position, leaning forward annoyingly as if she were part of their conversation. “But Mookie and I missed you.” Vanessa felt herself blush. “So, um, when are you leaving for Harvard?” “Tomorrow. I can’t believe I’m leaving town. Sometimes I think it’d be great to be in the city, go to Columbia or NYU—like you.” He pushed a stray dreadlock behind his ear.

“I don’t know,” Vanessa mused. “Lately it’s felt weird, knowing everyone is going to leave to try out new places and I’ll still be here, all on my own.” She took a sip of her vodka tonic—she couldn’t believe she was pouring her heart out to Aaron, of all people, whom she hadn’t seen in months. Still, it felt nice to finally voice what had been weighing on her for so long. Between Ruby’s marriage and Dan’s coming out, nobody had thought to ask how
she
was doing in a while.

“If I know one thing about you, Vanessa Abrams, it’s that you’ll be fine on your own.” Aaron grinned. “Though I can’t imagine you’ll be on your own for very long. Kind of makes me wish I was staying all over again.” As soon as he said the word
stay
, the spell of Aaron’s warm brown eyes was broken.Yes, he was gorgeous, and yes, he obviously still liked her, but all Vanessa could hear was Dan’s poem.
Fall down with me. And stay.
She kept replaying the way he’d looked deep into her eyes as he’d uttered those lines—as if he’d written them just for her. But if that were true, then where the hell was he?

Forget Greek gods. The theme for this party should have been “Love Stinks.”

hands off my lady, bob marley

Dan ducked around a Greek sculpture, vodka gimlet in one hand, feeling particularly small and insignificant beneath the giant marble statues looming over him. They were just the right height that their, um, anatomy was practically being shoved in his face. And it wasn’t exactly a turn-on.

Jenny sipped from her glass of champagne, her eyes wide with excitement. “Don’t you want to dance?” she demanded. “Come on, there are enough cute guys here for both of us.” “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Dan gulped his drink, the ice clinking against his teeth and numbing his tongue. “I wouldn’t even know how to
ask
another guy to dance, much less dance with him.” Why couldn’t everyone just leave him alone? After the intense moment at the wedding, locking eyes with Vanessa while he read his poem, Dan wasn’t sure what to think. It was like something was still . . .
there
between them. But then, just as he was about to finally talk to her, five different Williamsburg guys had come up to him to personally let him know how “touched” they were by his words. Before he knew it, he’d ended up with five phone numbers in his pocket . . . and five more assurances that he was gay.

Jenny rolled her eyes. “That’s the easy part. You just sort of mush your bodies together and grind.” She gave her hips a slight wiggle. Dan glanced nervously at one of the almost-naked man statues. He was so not ready for grinding.

“Hey, look, it’s Vanessa.” Jenny pointed toward the far corner of the immense hall. Dan craned his neck to get a good look, peering through the mass of beautifully dressed moving bodies. He finally spied her prickly head bobbing excitedly as she spoke to a handsome, dreadlocked Bob Marley wannabe. It was Blair’s stepbrother, Aaron, who had nearly succeeded in stealing Vanessa away from him once before. “Who’s the guy she’s talking to?” Jenny asked, her voice full of admiration. “He’s
cute
!” Dan slouched, completely dejected. Vanessa and Aaron were laughing and flirting, and they’d probably get back together before the night was even over. Looking so beautiful and confident in her sky blue sheath dress, it was hard to believe Vanessa had ever been his girlfriend. Dan was a sexually confused, cream-puff-eating geek who was about to drive cross-country in a car that was practically extinct. What had she ever seen in him, anyway?

“What’s wrong?” Jenny demanded, titling her head in concern when Dan didn’t respond. He could feel her examining him closely. She definitely seemed more self-assured after her summer away, and in a couple of days she was headed to boarding school.

Kids. They grow up so fast.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he snapped, gazing forlornly into his glass. He wished Jenny would just dance away into the night so he could sit by himself and be as morose as his poetry.

Life of the party, isn’t he?

“Oh my God!” Jenny shouted excitedly. “You’re
jealous
!” She put her hand on his arm and looked earnestly up in his face. “This is exactly what I wanted to talk to you about. I’ve tried to be supportive all along, and stop me if what I’m about to say is totally off base but—” Dan looked up into his sister’s big brown eyes. He was reminded of the hundreds of times they’d sat in their crumbling apartment eating Rufus’s disgusting leftovers and talking in half-sentences but understanding exactly what the other was saying.

“Honestly,” Jenny went on, “you don’t seem very gay to me.” “I
don’t
?” Dan grabbed her freckled shoulder.

“Sorry.” She shrugged.

Across the room Aaron and Vanessa were flirting mercilessly. Dan was practically dying to go over there and punch the guy out. Jenny was right—he
was
jealous. He wasn’t gay, despite what his mom and everyone else in the world seemed to think. When he’d kissed Greg, he’d been drunk and confused. Actually he hadn’t even been
awake
for part of it.