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and cackling。
Nate laughed and shook his head； trying to shake their words out of
his ears。 He lay back in the grass and stared at the empty blue sky。
If he tilted his head all the way back； he could just see the rooftops
of the penthouses along Fifth Avenue； Serena’s and Blair’s included。
Nate let his chin fall so all he could see was blue sky again。 He was
too baked to deal with any of this。 He tuned his friends out and tried
to clear his mind pletely； his head as empty and blue as the sky。
But he couldn’t get the images of Serena and Blair out of his mind’s
eye； floating naked above his head。 “You know you love me；” they
were saying。 Nate smiled and closed his eyes。
Disclaimer： All the real names of places； people； and events havebeen altered or abbreviated to protect the innocent。 Namely； me。
hey people！
I know it hasn’t been long。 But I can’t resist writing more about N。
My new favorite topic。 He is so stunningly beautiful； after all。 Even if
he is kind of lacking in the balls department。
STONED IN CENTRAL PARK
Actually； my new favorite topic is the Waspoid—the elite version of
the wasteoid； or stoner boy。 Unlike the average stoner wasteoid； the
Waspoid isn’t into metal or online dungeon games or skateboarding
or eating vegan。 He gets cute haircuts and has good skin。 He smells
nice； he wears the cashmere sweaters his girlfriend buys for him； he
gets decent grades； and he’s sweet to his mom。 He sails and plays
soccer。 He knows how to tie a necktie。 He knows how to dance。 He’s
sexy！ But the Waspoid never fully invests himself in anything or
anyone。 He isn’t a go…getter and he never says what’s on his mind。
He doesn’t take risks； which is what makes it so risky to fall in love
with him。
You might have noticed that I’m just the opposite—I never know
when to shut up！ And I seriously believe that opposites attract。 I
have to confess； I’m being a Waspoid groupie。
Apparently I’m not the only one。
Your E…mail
Dear Gossip Girl；i hooked up majorly with N on a blanket in central
park。 at least； i think it’s the same N 。 he’s all freckley； right？ does
he smell like suntan lotion and weed？—blanketbaby
Dear blanketbaby； Hmmm。 I bet he does。 —GGSightingsB buying condoms at Zitomer Pharmacy。 Lifestyles Extra…Long
Super…Ribbed！ What I want to know is how she knew what size to
get。 I guess they’ve done everything but。 Afterwards； B made a
beeline （no pun intended！） to the J。 Sisters salon for her first
Brazilian bikini wax。 Ouch。 But believe me； it’s worth it。 Also caughtS at the post office； mailing a big package。 Barneys baby clothes for
her little French tot； maybe？ Caught I and K in the 3 Guys Coffee
Shop； eating fries and hot cocoa again。 They’d just returned those
cute little dresses they bought at Bendel’s the other day—oh dear；
are they getting too fat？—and were discussing other options for
what to wear to the Kiss on the Lips party。 Too bad it’s not a toga
party。
Vocab
Since so many of you have been asking； I’m going to answer the big
question that’s been baffling you since you found out about the
party for the peregrine falcons。
Okay。 According to my handy unabridged dictionary：
Falcon； n。 1。 any of several birds of prey of the family Falconidae；
esp。 of the genus Falco； usually distinguished by long； pointed
wings； a hooked beak with a tooth…like notch on each side of the
upper bill； and swift agile flight； typically diving to seize prey： some
falcon species are close to extinction。 Peregrine falcon； a globally
distributed falcon； Falco perigrinus； much used in falconry because
of its swift flight。
I’m sure I had you on the edge of your seat about that one。 But I’m
just trying to keep you in the know—that’s my job。
See you in the park！
You know you love me；
“Well； it’s wonderful to have you back； dear；” Ms。 Glos； Constance’s
college advisor； told Serena。 She picked her glasses up from where
they were hanging around her neck on a gold chain and slid them
onto her nose so she could examine Serena’s schedule； which was
lying on her desk。 “Let’s see； now。 Mmmm。 Yes。 Right；” she
muttered； reading the schedule over。
Serena sat in front of Ms。 Glos； with her legs crossed； waiting
patiently。 There were no diplomas on Ms。 Glos’s wall； no evidence of
any accreditations at all； just pictures of her grandchildren。 Serena
wondered if Ms。 Glos had even gone to college。 You would have
thought that if she were going to dish out advice on the subject； she
could have at least tried it。
Ms。 Glos cleared her throat。 “Yes； well； your schedule is perfectly
acceptable。 Not stellar； mind you； but adequate。 I imagine you’re
making up for it with extracurriculars； yes？”
Serena shrugged her shoulders。 If you can call drinking Pernod and
dancing naked on a beach in Cannes an extracurricular。 “Not
really；” she said。 “I mean； I’m not actually signed up for any
extracurriculars at the moment。”
Ms。 Glos let her glasses drop。 Her nostrils were turning very red and
Serena wondered if she was about to have a bloody nose。 Ms。 Glos
was famous for her bloody noses。 Her skin was very pale； with a
yellowish tinge。 All the girls thought she had some terrible
contagious disease。
“No extracurriculars？ But what are you doing to improve yourself？”
Serena gave Ms。 Glos a polite； blank look。
Who said she needed improving？
“I see。 Well； we’ll have to get you involved in something； won’t we？”
Ms。 Glos said。 “I’m afraid the colleges aren’t going to even look at
you without any extracurriculars。” She bent over and pulled a big
looseleaf binder out of a drawer in her desk and began flipping
through pages and pages of flyers printed on colored paper。 “Here’s
something that starts this week。 ‘Feng Shui Flowers； the Art of Floral
Design。’ ”
She looked up at Serena； who was frowning doubtfully。 “No； you’re
right。 That’s not going to get you into Harvard； is it？” Ms。 Glos said
with a little laugh。
She pushed up the sleeves of her blouse and frowned at the binder
as she flipped briskly through the pages。 She wasn’t about to give
up after only one try。 She was very good at her job。
Serena gnawed on her thumbnail。 She hadn’t thought about this。
That colleges would actually need her to be anything more than she
already was。 And she definitely wanted to go to college。 A good
one。 Her parents certainly expected her to go to one of the best
schools。 Not that they put any pressure on her—but it went without
saying。 And the more Serena thought about it； the more she
realized she really didn’t have anything going for her。 She’d been
kicked out of boarding school； her grades had fallen； she had no
idea what was going on in any of her classes； and she had no
hobbies or cool after…school activities。 Her SAT scores sucked
because her mind always wandered during those stupid fill…in…thebubble
tests。 And when she took them again； they would probably
suck even worse。 Basically； she was screwed。
“What about drama？ Your English grades are quite good； you must
like drama；” Ms。 Glos suggested。 “They’ve only been rehearsing this
one for a little over a week。 It’s the Interschool Drama Club doing a
modern version of Gone With the Wind。” She looked up again。 “How
’bout it？”
Serena jiggled her foot up and down and chewed on her pinky nail。
She tried to imagine herself alone on stage playing Scarlett O’Hara。
She would have to cry on cue； and pretend to faint； and wear huge
dresses with corsets and hoop skirts。 Maybe even a wig。
I’ll never go hungry again！ she’d cry dramatically； in her best
Southern…belle voice。 It might be kind of fun。
Serena took the flyer from Ms。 Glos’s hand； careful not to touch the
paper where Ms。 Glos had touched it。
“Sure； why not？” she said。 “It sounds like fun。”
Serena left Ms。 Glos’s office as the final class of the day was getting
out。 Gone With the Wind rehearsal was in the auditorium； but it
didn’t begin until six so that the students who did sports right after
school could still be in the play。 Serena walked up Constance’s wide
central stairwell to the fourth floor to retrieve her coat from her
locker and see if anyone wanted to hang out until six。 All around
her； girls were flying past； a blur of end…of…the…day energy； rushing
to their next meeting； practice； rehearsal； or club。 Out of habit； they
paused for half a second to say hello to Serena； because ever since
they could remember； to be seen talking to Serena van der
Woodsen was to be seen。
“Hey Serena；” Laura Salmon yelled before diving down the stairs for
Glee Club in the basement music room。
“Later； Serena；” Rain Hoffstetter said； as she slipped past in her
gym shorts； heading for soccer practice。
“See you tomorrow； Serena；” Lily Reed said softly； blushing because
she was wearing her riding breeches； which always embarrassed
her。
“Bye；” Carmen Fortier said； chewing gum in her leather jacket and
jeans。 She was one of the few scholarship girls in the junior class
and lived in the Bronx。 She claimed she co