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spoon； and held it up。 “No matter who we marry or how many kids we have； we’ll always have slumber parties。”
Blair clinked her spoon against Serena’s。 She took another large scoop of ice cream and bit into it； not caring about the calories or the fact that she was dripping all over herself or that they were acting like a bunch of seventh graders。
“I’m in； but only if I can hold the carton。” Nate grabbed the ice cream and scooped out a large spoonful。 He felt happier than he had in a long time。
Next up： creative use of whipped cream？
a kiss is never just a kiss
Vanessa lay on her bed in the Humphreys’ apartment； Marx by her side and Norma snoring contentedly on the floor。 Norma loved living at the Humphreys’； so at least Vanessa wouldn’t have to worry about finding a home for her while she was in Indonesia。 The dog actually begged for Rufus’s soufflés and other kitchen experiments gone wrong。
Unlike everyone else with a sense of smell。
The only sound in the apartment was the annoying…yet…forting hum of the fluorescent light in the hallway that Rufus always meant to replace but never got around to。 Vanessa typed Indonesia into Google’s search box and pressed enter。 Immediately； maps； travel reviews； and NYTimes。 articles sprung onto the screen。 Nothing helpful。 Nothing that told her whether or not she should go。 She heard the key scrape in the lock。 Rufus was spending time with his anarchist friends； and Jenny was probably with Nate； so it had to be Dan ing home。 Vanessa was surprised by how eager she felt to see him。 She slid off the bed and headed toward the living room to investigate。
“Hey；” Dan said as he unwrapped a Burberry scarf from his neck and flung it on the couch。 Serena had given him the scarf as a Thanksgiving present。
Usually； the fact that he and Serena had grown up in such different worlds didn’t matter to him。 But there were times—like when he received a Thanksgiving present that cost more than a month of working at the circulation desk in Butler Library； or when she invited him to stay at her parents’ sprawling Connecticut house—that it became apparent how fundamentally different their backgrounds were。
Dan had been thinking about this more than ever recently。 He hadn’t seen Serena since before Christmas； four days ago。 He’d called her tonight to invite her to a movie； but she was meeting Blair。 Dan had gone to Film Forum alone； and surprised himself by buying a ticket to the new Hollis Lyons film。
He’d thought about Vanessa the whole time； which made sense； since it was her ex’s movie。 But it was more than that。 He was thinking about Vanessa and her film grant； and how excited she was for her future。 Serena wasn’t like that。 Serena was smart； but she was never especially ambitious。
Vanessa sauntered into the kitchen。 “Hey；” she said casually。 She didn’t want Dan to think she’d specifically e out of her bedroom to see him。 She opened the refrigerator and made an elaborate show of pawing through its contents。
“I don’t think there’s anything there。 I haven’t eaten yet； either。 Want a pizza？” Dan asked。
“Sure。” Vanessa shrugged。
Dan moved over to the counter and ordered a large double cheese； onion； and pepper。 He turned to Vanessa after he hung up。 “Serena had plans with Blair； so I saw your ex’s movie tonight。 The one about the Maoris in Iceland？”
“And？” Vanessa asked curiously。 She still hadn’t seen it； though the movie posters were on subway cars and bus shelters everywhere。 She really didn’t know if she wanted Dan to love or hate the film。
“You could have done it better；” Dan added。 “I can’t wait to see what you make in Indonesia。”
Vanessa smiled； her heart melting a little bit。 That was exactly what she wanted to hear。
Dan grinned。 “Did you ever think this is who you’d bee？” he asked； settling onto the counter。
“What do you mean？”
“I mean—going to Indonesia。 Being a real filmmaker。 Like； back when you were eighteen； wouldn’t you be so excited if you knew this was who you’d be four years later？” Dan asked； stirring his Folgers coffee crystals into his favorite chipped white mug。
“Yes； I’d be excited。 But I always thought…” She trailed off。 She’d meant to say that back then； whenever she imagined her future life； she imagined herself and Dan together。 “I don’t know。” She shrugged； not finishing the sentence。 “What about you？”
Dan closed his eyes。 He’d thought he’d be more in control of his life； be more sure of what he was doing。 Of course； everything seemed perfect。 Outside of his two poems in The New Yorker； he’d been published in some of the most prestigious literary journals in the country。 He was dating a movie star。 He was heading to the best grad program for writing in the world。 But somehow； something seemed… inplete。 “Yeah； things worked out。” Dan shrugged。
“You and Serena seem good together；” Vanessa offered after a pause。 She’d never really talked about Dan’s relationship with Serena before。
“Yeah； she’s great；” Dan said distantly。 Serena was great。 But no matter what； they didn’t have as strong a connection as he described in the poems he wrote about their relationship。 It wasn’t the marriage of two minds； not really。 It was more like falling in love with an illusion of perfection。
Sounds like we’ve got the beginnings of another poem。
Just then； the buzzer rang。
“Saved by the bell。” Vanessa grinned as she stood up and pulled a twenty from the back pocket of her tight black jeans。 After paying the delivery boy； she set the steaming box of pizza on the coffee table in the living room。
She grabbed a slice of pizza and sat cross…legged on the scuffed hardwood floor。 This was what she was going to miss： the Humphreys’ fortably ramshackle apartment； Marx； Norma； and the overarching feeling of pride that somehow； despite all odds； she’d transformed from the scrappy； friendless daughter of hippie parents from Vermont into an inspiring young filmmaker who mattered。
Dan grabbed a slice and sat down next to her。 A glob of sauce landed on the front of his brown sweater。
Vanessa cracked a grin。 “I’d have thought you’d have better manners four years later； that’s for sure；” she said as he dabbed the sauce away with a paper napkin。
“That’s for sure；” Dan said sheepishly as he leaned against the couch and took a large bite of pizza。 Vanessa smiled fondly at him。 It was cute the way he’d spilled all over himself。 It was nice to know that some things would always stay the same。
Another small glob of sauce dripped from Dan’s chin； threatening to spill onto his sweater。 “You’re a mess。” She shook her head bemusedly as she leaned in to catch it。 But Dan leaned in too； and suddenly； their lips were connecting。 Dan tasted like pizza and coffee and something else—a Dan…ness she’d forgotten she missed。
Dan leaned closer to Vanessa； running his fingers through her thick； shoulder…length hair and tracing the back of her neck with his hand。
As if they were following the steps to a dance only they knew； they stood without breaking their kiss。 Vanessa took Dan’s hand； and led him to her bedroom。
So this is what their younger selves imagined。
hey people！
bad behavior
Just when I think we’re all too old for the over…the…top antics of our youth； several of our favorite people have proven they still know how to bend the rules： B and S were spotted sneaking into a certain Eighty…second Street town house。 J was spotted rediscovering her rock star self and dancing all night at Filter。 That’s just as well； since N was in bed with B… and S。 And D didn’t seem to miss S because he was awfully busy with… dinner。
So what’s up with the recent spate of bad behavior？ It could be a result of senior year stress。 It could be a flirtation with the past。 Or it could be us ing to terms with the yin and the yang； the bad and the good existing in all of us。 The realization that even though we might be older； we might wear better clothes； we might be able to spout off Proust and Plato with aplomb； we’re still just figuring out our place in the world； one mistake at a time。 We’re old enough to stop pretending to be perfect； to stop pretending the past never happened； to realize that drama keeps life interesting。 And； that said…
hangover help
I don’t know about you； but now that I’m legally allowed to drink； my hangovers have been ten times worse。 Talk about youth being wasted on the young。 If this season you find yourself with a pounding headache the likes of which you haven’t felt since freshman year； I can sympathize。 My advice？ Go back to sleep and have your significant other brave the cold for bagels。 Indulge in a carb and snuggle…fest in bed； and stay there until the sun dips low into the sky。 After all； it’s vacation and you deserve the break。
your e…mail
q： Dear Gossip Girl；
My best friend has a boyfriend but loves to go out and dance。 And boys—especially one boy in particular—loves to dance with her。 Should I stage an intervention or something or just realize she can make her own decisions？
—caligirl
a： Dear Cali；
Last I heard； dancing isn’t cheating。 I say； just dance—but be ready to cut in