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flé spoon； and set it down on the counter。 “It’s just… Hollis and I broke up and Ruby has； like； seventeen houseguests。” Vanessa wiped her hands on her apron。 “But I can leave；” she added helplessly。 Why did she think it was a good idea to barge back into Dan’s life？ Why had she thought the texts from last night meant anything at all？
Dan dropped Serena’s hand。 It was so strange； and yet so familiar； to see Vanessa here； in his kitchen。 Her dark hair was shoulder length and choppy； and she wore a pair of tight jeans and a white tank top underneath his dad’s dorky Kiss the Cook apron。 Her milky white skin contrasted with her jet…black hair。 He’d forgotten how beautiful she was。
“Sorry to hear that；” Serena said； an edge to her voice。 It was too bad that Vanessa had broken up with her boyfriend； but why was she so fortable crashing at Dan’s？
Asks the girl who breaks and enters Newport summer homes。
“Thanks。 At least I’m earning my keep；” Vanessa cracked； pointing to the charred soufflé。
Dan smiled。 Vanessa had always been a good sport about his dad’s experimental cooking。 It was nice to have her here again； back at their apartment。 It felt like home。
“So…” Vanessa trailed off。 “Is it okay if I stay？”
Dan looked straight at Vanessa as if he hadn’t heard。 “You can always stay；” he said softly。 Vanessa smiled back； nodding her head； a slight blush creeping over her cheeks。
“Right； sure。 Of course；” Serena said sulkily； sitting down at the kitchen counter。 Above her； the cuckoo clock struck midnight； its lilting； carefree chirp seeming to mock her。 It might be a new year； but she felt like she’d experienced this all before。
Two girls； one guy； and New Year’s Eve… Talk about déjà vu。
IV
hey people！
Only six more months until we’re out in the real world； and the signs are everywhere。 Theory suits and Prada pumps scream “signing bonuses。” The student center is packed with seniors writing Fulbright grant proposals to study contemporary indigenous literature in Canada； applying to grad school； or creating a backpacking…through…Latin…America itinerary。 And then there are those undecideds； who head to any and all on…campus career fairs； just to guarantee they’ll have something to do once May rolls around。
Even though our mailing addresses will stay the same for the next few months； our minds are already a million miles away。 D found out he’ll be leaving the Big Apple and heading to the land of corn at the famed Iowa Writers’ Workshop e September。 So what will e of his relationship with the lovely S？ Rumor has it she’ll be graduating from Yale this spring； despite the small technicality that she’s only a sophomore。 How does she do these things？ And should we even be surprised by now？ V may have an address on the Upper West Side； but judging from the pile of mail outside her door and her frequent sightings at Lit； Boxcar Lounge； and Barcade； she’s rarely there。 After spending a semester apart—she at Yale； he at Oxford—B and C spent a romantic summer in the south of France； which seemed to ease the pain of separation。 Then there are couples like N and J； who can’t even seem to be apart for a few hours。 They’re often seen kissing outside the library… and Brown dining hall the Ratty… and in the middle of the green。 Get a room！
your e…mail
q： Dear Gossip Girl；
I’m the owner of a collection of blogs。 e work with me and I’ll make you a star。
—Nick
a： Dear Nick；
While I don’t know what my future holds； I intend to remain an independent operation。
—GG
q： Dear Gossip Girl；
Okay； here it is： I have loved you since your first post。 I’m graduating； I guess you’re graduating； and all I want for Christmas is you。 I just received my fat signing bonus with a certain hedge fund； and I want to fly you down to St。 Barts for the holidays。 e with me and let’s toast the rest of our lives。
—Rich
a： Dear Rich；
While I’m flattered to hear you’re a longtime devotee； there’s no way I’m spending this holiday anywhere other than the Upper East Side。 And while the affections of some ordinary girls may be for sale； I’m no ordinary girl。
—GG
stress case
As we all bustle about trying to figure out our futures； I’m experiencing déjà vu。 Didn’t we do this once already？ It’s senior year stress all over again—except this time； we’re not applying to college； we’re applying to life。 My advice is the same as I gave four years ago： Sometimes； you just need to pour the pinot； turn on some tunes； and chill out。 After all； don’t we have the rest of our lives to worry？
You know you love me；
gossip girl
old rivalries； new real estate
Blair stood on the terrace of her mother and stepfather’s new Central Park West penthouse and took a drag of her Merit Ultra Light。 In the past year； she’d almost given up smoking； but something about her mother’s dinner parties always made her want to break the rules。
The new penthouse was on the top floor of a sprawling French Renaissance and German Gothic sandstone building that； on Seventy…second and Central Park West； lay almost exactly across the park from the Fifth Avenue building Blair had grown up in。 It may as well have been in a whole other country。 They were here because Cyrus was creating a huge development on the west side； but Blair had a feeling that Eleanor had also pushed for the move because she missed her old stomping grounds。 Blair didn’t blame her。 The few times she’d been out to LA； she’d hated it。 The clothes were gaudy； the hair and boobs fake； and you had to drive everywhere。 Even the sun felt too accosting and bright。
Blair had finally gotten used to Eleanor and Cyrus living in LA； though； and now that she was planning to move to New York after graduation； she wasn’t sure she wanted them in the same time zone； much less the same city。 The only good thing about the move was that she could see her sister； Yale； more often。 Yale might even grow up relatively normal if they spent enough time together。
Or not。 Normal is highly overrated。
Blair shivered and hugged her arms around her chest。 It was surprisingly warm for December； but she was only wearing a silky black and tan Chloé halter sheath。 She wasn’t quite ready to go back inside； where Eleanor and Cyrus were hosting a holiday party for all the Upper East Side couples they’d been friends with for years； including the van der Woodsens； the Coateses； and the Basses。 Chuck was still in England； due back on Christmas； so Blair had to fend for herself。 It was times like these a long…distance relationship was hard。 At Yale； she kept busy with classes and the college friends she’d made； but in New York she hated being all alone。
Blair gazed down at streetlight…lined paths that zigzagged through the dark expanse of Central Park greenery。 It just felt so wrong to be looking at the park from this angle。
The terrace door slid open and her stepbrother； Aaron Rose； stepped outside； carrying Yale on his hip and a glass of champagne in one hand。 Aaron was a senior at Harvard； insisted on wearing his hair in little brown dreadlocks； and had spent all of last year on a study…abroad program in Burkina Faso。 Now； starry…eyed at the notion of making a difference in third…world countries； he was in the process of applying to the Peace Corps to an even more remote third…world country。
“Hey sis！” Aaron said cheerfully； taking a large swig of champagne as he set Yale down。 Yale had large blue eyes； dark brown hair tied back with a dark red ribbon； and wore a green velvet Bonpoint party dress。 Blair grinned。 She was fucking adorable。
The second ing of Blair Waldorf？
“Let’s go inside—it’s cold！” she said； holding her hand out to her baby sister。 Blair wasn’t exactly the maternal type； but the almost…four…year…old was impossible to resist。
“No！” Yale stomped her foot indignantly。 “I don’t like anyone in there；” she whined as she intertwined her sticky fingers in Blair’s manicured ones。 Aaron burst out laughing。
Blair picked up Yale； inhaling the scent of her baby shampoo。 “Don’t worry； Yaley； I don’t like anyone either。”
Together； Blair and Yale swept through the sliding door of the terrace and into the expansive living room。 Eleanor hadn’t begun decorating yet； so the entire room was empty save for a large Douglas fir that skimmed the vaulted cathedral ceiling。 In a way； the room looked more impressive without furniture。 The white moldings of the ceiling contrasted with the dark oak of the window ledges； and the art deco chandelier cast a romantic glow against the cherrywood floors。
“Blair； darling！” Misty Bass caught Blair’s elbow。 She was an imperious…looking woman with a crisp blond bob who never left the house without first putting on a large amount of jewelry。
“You know； darling； seeing you with your adorable baby sister makes me imagine you as a mother；” Misty said； leaning in close。 Blair practically recoiled from the scent of her spicy perfume。 “I know both your mom and I would love grandchildren！ After the wedding； of course；” she added sternly。
Blair smiled tightly。 Who said anything about marriage？ She and Chuck had been dating for over a year； and the