Novels by Cecily von Ziegesar: Gossip Girl You Know You ... - Weebly

out of his locker at the Riverside Preparatory School for Boys.
“Don’t forget to use protection,” Chuck called, raising his glass at
Blair and Nate as they turned down the long, red-carpeted hallway
to Blair’s bedroom.
Blair grasped the glass doorknob and turned it, surprising her
Russian Blue cat, Kitty Minky, who was curled up on the red silk
bedspread. Blair paused at the threshold and leaned back against
Nate, pressing her body into his. She reached down to take his
hand.
At that moment, Nate’s hopes perked up. Blair was acting sort of
sultry and sexy and could it be . . . something was about to
happen?
Blair squeezed Nate’s hand and pulled him into the room. They
stumbled over each other, falling toward the bed, and spilling their
drinks on the mohair rug. Blair giggled; the scotch she’d pounded
had gone right to her head.
I’m about to have sex with Nate, she thought giddily. And then
they’d both graduate in June and go to Yale in the fall and have a
huge wedding four years later and find a beautiful apartment on
Park Avenue and decorate the whole thing in velvet, silk, and fur
and have sex in every room on a rotating basis.
Suddenly Blair’s mother’s voice rang out, loud and clear, down the
hallway.
“Serena van der Woodsen! What a lovely surprise!”
Nate dropped Blair’s hand and straightened up like a soldier called
to attention. Blair sat down hard on the end of her bed, put her
drink on the floor, and grasped the bedspread in tight, whiteknuckled
fists.
She looked up at Nate.
But Nate was already turning to go, striding back down the hall to
see if it could possibly be true. Had Serena van der Woodsen really
come back?
The movie of Blair’s life had taken a sudden, tragic turn. Blair
clutched her stomach, ravenous again.
She should have gone for the hot dog after all.
“Hello, hello, hello!” Blair’s mother crowed, kissing the smooth,
hollow cheeks of each van der Woodsen.
Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss!
“I know you weren’t expecting Serena, dear,” Mrs. van der Woodsen
whispered in a concerned, confidential tone. “I hope it’s all right.”
“Of course. Yes, it’s fine,” Mrs. Waldorf said. “Did you come home
for the weekend, Serena?”
Serena van der Woodsen shook her head and handed her vintage