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you can be the dog soldier；” he announced。
“Excuse me？” Dog soldier？
“You need to protect the door while we chant away our demons；” Herbert explained。 “We have extra animal skins if you get cold。”
Dan did a double take。 Was this guy serious？ Protect the door？ Not only was it broad daylight； but the wooded area they were staying in was right next to a farmhouse。 What he’d thought had been a rushing river when they’d gotten to the site after dark on New Year’s had actually been the whooshing of cars across a highway。 But it was no use arguing。 Herbert had already retreated back into the sweat lodge with his bongo drum。
Dan sighed and sat on a log outside the lodge。 Fuck； he was cold。 He wondered what Vanessa was doing。 Knowing she was in New York while he was here was almost too much to bear。
Sounds like he’s the negative spirit。
He pulled a pen and a crumpled receipt from the pocket of his jacket。 Maybe he should focus on writing。 Maybe suffering would be good for him—he wasn’t going to suffer at all once he and Vanessa were living together。 Smoothing out the paper on his thigh； he began to write。
Sweat； skin heat； cold； wet sweet。
It was no use。 The poem sounded like the beginning of an erotic version of The Cat in the Hat。 There was no way he could do this for two more days。 Besides； sitting outside and guarding against evil spirits didn’t really equate to bonding time with his dad。 That was it。 He was going home。
“Dad？” Dan whispered hesitantly through the canvas…flapped door of the lean…to。
“What？” Rufus’s wiry hair was slick with sweat and his face was bright red as he swayed back and forth in front of the central fire。
“I don’t think this is working for me；” Dan said carefully。 “I need to see Vanessa。”
Rufus shook his grizzly head sadly and stood up。 Dan cringed。 His dad was only wearing a tiny purple Speedo that sagged in the ass。 “Are you sure？” he asked； clapping Dan on the shoulder。 “Because if you want me to take over dog soldier duty so you can sweat it out； that’d be fine with me。 You know； I never believed this New Age crap； but it’s good stuff。”
Dan shook his head。 “I think my spirit guides are telling me to go home；” he said seriously。
The bongo playing stopped。 “Door to the farmhouse is open if you need to call Al’s taxi service；” Running Rainbow yelled； then resumed drumming。
Rufus shrugged。 “You’ll be okay？”
“Yes。 Have fun； Dad！” Dan yelled as he practically sprinted away from the campsite and toward the highway。 He didn’t want to wait for Al’s taxi service。 He just wanted to go home。 Stamping his feet on the asphalt； he put his thumb up。
A truck slowed down。
“What do we have here？” The driver leaned out his window。 He was missing three front teeth and was probably around sixty。 His long bushy hair reminded Dan of pictures of Jerry Garcia in his later years。 Was this where all the sixties stoners came to die？
“I’m heading to the city。 New York？” Dan said； trying to play it cool； as if he hitchhiked all the time。
Jerry Two nodded thoughtfully。 “Hop in！” he announced grandly。 Dan nodded and took a breath。 The cab of the truck smelled like patchouli and jasmine。
“Bringing my candles to sell in the big city。 You ever been to the Union Square greenmarket？ I have a booth！” Jerry Two said proudly as he floored the accelerator。
“Oh？” Dan said politely。 At least the cab of the truck was warm。 And he really doubted a candle…selling hippie would be a serial killer。
“Yep。 Me and my wife make ’em。 You got a wife？” the driver asked panionably。
“No。” Dan shook his head。 He tried to imagine himself and Vanessa in their sixties。 Would they still be making poetry and films？ “I have a girlfriend； though。 I’m going back to the city to see her；” Dan said； surprised at how much information he was volunteering。
Jerry Two nodded thoughtfully。 “When I was your age； I was already married。 My wife’s name is Joan； and she’s just as pretty and smart as the first time I laid eyes on her。 When you find a lady like that； you don’t let her go； you know what I mean？”
“Yes；” Dan mumbled； already antsy to get back to the city。 The stretch of highway was practically empty and surrounded on both sides with fields of cows。 He wanted to crawl next to Vanessa and feel her body next to his。 A poem was forming in his head； and Dan’s fingers were itching to write it down。 He pulled his notebook from his duffel and grabbed an ancient Sharpie rolling on the rubber floor mat of the truck。 Uncapping the marker； he quickly wrote。
Dreaming in Technicolor black and white。
I’m no Technicolor prince； no black…and…white tragedy
What you see
Will be us； you me。
Dan grinned。 It was so obvious。 He didn’t need a retreat； what he needed was Vanessa。 And he couldn’t wait to have a sex…and…poetry fest as soon as he got home。 He leaned back。 The vinyl seat squeaked； making a farting noise。
“You let one rip？ Good！ I will too！” Jerry Two said。 A loud noise emanated from the driver’s seat。 Dan wrinkled his nose。 It was going to be a longer drive than he thought。
What some people will do for love！
nothing can ever go wrong at tiffany… right？
Blair leaned back against the Frette pillowcases of Serena’s canopy bed。 She’d always felt like Serena’s house was her second home—or third home； once she and Nate started dating sophomore year—and had been more than happy to spend the day relaxing and watching endless hours of crappy MTV while Serena was at a shoot for Tea at the Palace or Snacks at the Strand or whatever her movie was called。 Now it was almost four o’clock； and she felt kind of gross and bloated from spending the entire day lying in bed and eating Godiva chocolates from one of Serena’s discarded gift baskets。 She needed to get out。
She hadn’t seen Serena since brunch the day before。 It was sort of for the best； though。 After all； she and Nate couldn’t keep their hands off each other。 They’d spent all of yesterday cuddled in Nate’s bed； whispering remember…whens in between kisses and feeding each other eel rolls from Blue Ribbon sushi。 She only left Nate’s house because his parents were due home from St。 Barts today。 It would be enough of a surprise for them to see Nate。 She didn’t want them to think the first thing Nate did when he came back was take advantage of the empty house with his girlfriend。
Wait； girlfriend？
She sighed and turned off the TV。 Ever since she was fifteen and had seen Breakfast at Tiffany’s； she’d played a game with herself called What Would Audrey Do？ If Audrey found herself alone at dusk on a cold January day； she’d probably sit near the window of some cozy café like Le Refuge on Eighty…Second Street and people…watch； the whole while blissfully unaware that from behind their menus； everyone was whispering about the charmingly gamine girl。 Besides； she’d been back in New York—her city—for almost three days and had barely seen anything besides Nate’s bedroom。
And it wasn’t like she’d been admiring the décor。
Blair pulled her Burberry coat from the Eames chair in the corner； exited the building； and automatically turned left； exactly as she had a million times before。 She wasn’t sure where she was going； but she’d know when she got there。
She paused at Seventy…second and Fifth and looked up at the row of limestone buildings standing at attention across the park。 The building on the corner was her building； the one she’d lived in for eighteen years of her life。 Her gaze traveled upward to the top floor； where a dim light emanated from the room that used to be hers。 Suddenly it hit her that she didn’t live here anymore。
She knew a new family lived there now； one with triplets a few years younger than her。 Did they have boyfriends and best friends within walking distance？ Did they sit for hours on the steps of the Met； smoking Merits and talking about nothing？ Blair had always wanted to grow up； but for the first time； she suddenly felt old。
As Blair walked east toward Madison； her iPhone rang the familiar strains of the opening bars of “Moon River。”
She pulled it out of her Lanvin hobo； surprised to see an unfamiliar 212 number flash across the display。 She pressed talk； her mind bubbling with possibilities。 Was it Nate； ditching his parents to meet her for a Per Se dinner？
“This is Blair；” she answered curiously。
“Blair Waldorf？” a surprisingly high man’s voice repeated on the other end of the phone。
“Yes；” Blair said cautiously。
“Miss Waldorf； this is Freddie from Tiffany and pany。 We have your order here。 We close in an hour；” he finished。
Blair racked her brain。 “I don’t think I ordered anything；” Blair began。 Unless her father had ordered something for her as a late Christmas present。 But he’d already sent her a pair of limited edition snakeskin Christian Louboutins。 Besides； she and Harold bonded over shoes or purses； not jewelry。 Which could only mean that it was a surprise from Nate。
“I’ll be by in a few minutes；” she said eagerly； her hand shooting up in the air to hail a taxi。
“Okay； miss。 We’re located at—“
“I know where you are；” Blair said quickly as she stepped into th