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“Pulling myself together, I groped for the door, and, having found it, made my way upstairs, stumbling at each step. I felt dazed, as though I had received a blow on the head. At the same time, my hand smarted badly, and I was full of a nervous, dull rage against those Things.


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"I'll stand for him ef he does," said Mr. Davy Tanner, firmly. "I don't know any more th'n you about him, but I'm willin' to trust him."


[Pg 183]

"Where has he gone?"

He picked out two lamb chops, string beans, and a small box of orange sherbet. He picked the boxes from the freezer and pushed shut the door with his elbow.

Sudbury followed, and after balls and strikes, tipped a kindergarten bounder to McGuffy, who, with the air of Little Jack Horner, stopped it and threw it within Ames's long reach. Durand profited by a fumble of Smart's to reach first, but he was caught here a minute later by Owen's quick snap to Ames—and the fourth inning was over.


He didn’t even have to finish. Jamie put her hands to her mouth. “Oh my,” she said right away, “you’re right. I hadn’t thought about that.” Neither had I, to tell you the truth. But it was obvious right off the bat that Mr.

“Oh, it’s you, boy. Glad to see ye.{126}”



1.I judge, therefore, that I may be doing a service to the survivors of the generation of 1860 and also to the generations that have grown up since the War, by utilising the occasion of the publication of my own little monograph for the reprinting of these notes in a form for permanent preservation and for reference on the part of students of the history of the Republic.

2.The dusk was falling when, with incredible celerity, the sedan-chair of Mistress Bellairs rounded the corner at a swinging pace; her bell-like voice might be heard from within rating the chairmen with no gentle tone for their sluggishness.





Mrs. Bronson smiled. "No indeed, I won't mind! Just as long as you're happy and contented, I don't mind a thing! Did the twins' new friend come to see you to-day? And did you like her?"



“How can I wake you if you fight?”


They didn’t even want her there. Fuck ’em. She was free to do what she pleased. She carried the phone over to her desk and shuffled through a pile of papers until she found the Constance Billard School student directory, which had arrived in the mail on Monday. Serena read through the names. She wasn’t the only one skipping the party. She could find someone else to hang out with. “Yo,” Vanessa said, picking up the phone. She was getting ready to go out with her sister and her friends, and she was wearing a black bra, black jeans, and her Doc Martens. She didn’t have any clean black shirts left, and her sister was trying to convince her to wear a red one. “Hi. Is that Vanessa Abrams?” a girl’s voice said on the other end of the phone. “Yes. Who’s this?” Vanessa said, standing in front of her bedroom mirror and holding the red shirt up to her chest. She hadn’t worn any color but black in two years. Why should she start now? Please. It’s not like wearing a red shirt was going turn her into a bouncy cheerleader with blond pigtails. She’d have to be brainwashed for that to happen. “It’s Serena van der Woodsen.” Vanessa stopped looking at herself and threw the shirt on her bed. “Oh,” she said. “What’s up?” “Well,” Serena said. “I totally understand why you wanted to cast Marjorie. You know, for your film? But you seem to really know what you’re doing, and I really need the extracurricular or Ms. Glos is going to kill me. So I thought I’d try to make my own movie.” “Uh huh,” Vanessa said, trying to figure out why Serena van der Woodsen of all people would be calling her up on a Friday night. Didn’t she have a ball to go to or something? Some fête? “So anyway, I was wondering if maybe you could help me. You know, like show me how to use the camera, and whatever. I mean, I really don’t know what I’m doing,” Serena said. She sighed. “I don’t know, maybe making a film is a dumb idea. It’s probably a lot harder than I think.” “It’s not dumb,” Vanessa said, feeling kind of sorry for Serena despite herself. “I can show you some of the basic stuff.” “Really?” Serena said. She sounded thrilled. “How about tomorrow? Can you do it tomorrow?” Saturday was Vanessa’s vampire day. She usually woke up after dark and then went to the diner or to the movies with her sister or Dan. “Sunday is better,” she said. “Okay. Sunday,” Serena said. “You probably have a lot of equipment and stuff at your house, right? Why don’t I come over there, so you don’t have to lug it around.” “Sounds good,” Vanessa said. “Okay,” Serena said. She paused. She didn’t seem very eager to hang up the phone. “Hey, isn’t that big party in the old Barneys building tonight?” Vanessa said. “Aren’t you going?” “Nah,” Serena answered. “I wasn’t invited.” Vanessa nodded, processing this information. Serena van der Woodsen wasn’t invited? Maybe she wasn’t so bad after all. “Well, do you want to come out with us tonight?” Vanessa offered before she could stop herself. “Me and my big sister are going to a bar here in Williamsburg. Her band is playing.” “I’d love to,” Serena said. Vanessa gave her the address of The Five and Dime—the bar her sister was playing in—and hung up the phone. Life was so strange. One day you could be picking your nose and eating donuts, and the next day you could be hanging out with Serena van der Woodsen. She picked up the red shirt, pulled it on over her head, and looked in the mirror. She looked like a tulip. A tulip with a stubbly black head. “Dan will like it,” her sister Ruby told her, standing in the doorway. She handed Vanessa a tube of dark red lipstick. Vamp. “Well, Dan’s not coming out tonight,” Vanessa said, smirking at her sister. She dabbed on the lipstick and rubbed her lips together. “He has to take his little sister to some fancy ball.” She checked herself out in the mirror once more. The lipstick made her big brown eyes look even bigger, and the shirt was kind of cool, in a loud, look-at-me way. Vanessa stuck out her chest and smiled invitingly at her reflection. Maybe I’ll get lucky, she thought. Or maybe not. “I have a friend coming to meet us,” Vanessa informed her sister. “Boy or girl?” Ruby asked, turning around to check out her butt in the mirror. “Girl.” “Name?” said Ruby. “Serena van der Woodsen,” Vanessa mumbled. “The girl whose picture is all over town?” Ruby said, clearly delighted. “Yeah, that’s her,” Vanessa said. “Well, I bet she’s pretty cool,” Ruby said, rubbing hair gel into her thick black bangs. “Maybe,” Vanessa replied. “I guess we’ll find out.” “What fantastic flowers,” said Becky Dormand, a junior at Constance. She kissed Blair on both cheeks. “And what a hot dress!” “Thanks, Beck,” Blair said, looking down at the green satin sheath she was wearing. She had gotten her period that morning, but she had to wear extremely flimsy underwear with her dress. It made her nervous. A waiter walked past with a tray of champagne. Blair whisked a flute off his tray and downed it in a matter of seconds. It was her third so far. “I love your shoes,” Blair said. Becky was wearing black, high-heeled sandals that laced all the way up to her knees. They went perfectly with her short black tutu dress and her superhigh ponytail. She looked like a ballerina on acid. “I can’t wait for the gift bags,” Laura Salmon squealed. “Kate Spade, right?” “I heard they even put a glow-in-the-dark condom in them,” Rain Hoffstetter giggled. “Isn’t that cool?” “Not that you’ll be using it or anything,” Blair said. “How do you know?” Rain huffed. “Blair?” Blair heard someone say in a tremulous voice. Blair turned around to see little Jenny Humphrey standing behind her, looking like a human Wonderbra in her black satin dress. “Oh, hello,” Blair said coolly. “Thanks again for doing those invitations. They really came out great.” “Thanks for letting me do them,” Jenny said. Her eyes darted around the huge room, which was throbbing with people and music and smoke. Black three-foot-high candles in tall glass beakers trimmed with peacock feathers and fragrant white orchids flickered everywhere. Jenny had never been to anything this cool in her life. “God, I don’t know anyone here,” she said nervously. “You don’t?” Blair said. She wondered if Jenny thought she was going to talk to her all night. “No. My brother Dan was supposed to come with me, but he didn’t really want to, so I just let him drop me off. Actually, I do know one person,” Jenny said. “Oh,” said Blair. “And who is that?” “Serena van der Woodsen,” Jenny chirped. “We’re making a movie together. Did she tell you?” Just then, a waitress brandished a platter of sushi under Blair’s nose. Blair grabbed a chunky tuna roll and shoved it into her mouth. “Serena’s not here yet,” she said, chewing hungrily. “But I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to see you.” “Okay. I guess I’ll just wait for her here, then,” Jenny said, snagging two flutes of champagne from a waiter’s tray. She handed one to Blair. “Will you wait with me?” Blair took the champagne, tilted her head back, and poured it down the hatch. The sickly sweet fizziness of it didn’t exactly jive with the raw fish and seaweed she’d just eaten. Blair burped queasily. “I’ll be right back,” she told Jenny, practically running for the powder room. Jenny took a sip of her champagne and gazed up at the crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling, congratulating herself on making it in there. This was exactly what she’d always wanted. She closed her eyes and finished off her flute of champagne. When she opened her eyes again, she saw stars, but still no Serena. Another waiter walked by with more champagne, and Jenny took two more glasses. She’d drunk a little beer and wine at home with her dad, but she’d never had champagne before. It tasted wonderful. Careful, it doesn’t taste so wonderful when you’re on your knees in the bathroom, throwing it up. Jenny looked around for Blair again, but couldn’t find her. The party was so crowded, and although she recognized a lot of faces, there was no one she’d actually feel comfortable going up and talking to. But Serena would be there soon, she had to be. Jenny walked over to the bottom step of a marble staircase and sat down. She could see everything from there, including the door. She waited, drinking both glasses of champagne and wishing her dress wasn’t so tight. It was starting to make her feel nauseous. “Well, hello,” a deep voice said, hovering above her. Jenny looked up. Her eyes settled on Chuck Bass’s aftershave-commercial face and she sucked in her breath. He was the best-looking boy she’d ever seen, and he was looking right at her. “Aren’t you going to introduce me?” Chuck said, staring at Jenny’s chest. “To who?” Jenny said, frowning. Chuck just laughed and held out his hand. Blair had sent him over there to talk to some chick, and he’d been skeptical. But not anymore. The cleavage on her! It was definitely his lucky night. “I’m Chuck. Would you like to dance?” Jenny hesitated and glanced at the door. Still no Serena. Then she shifted her gaze back to Chuck. She couldn’t believe a handsome and self-assured boy like him would want to dance with her. But she wasn’t wearing a sexy black dress just to sit on the steps all night. She stood up, a little wobblier than she’d been before, after so much champagne. “Sure, let’s dance,” she slurred, falling against Chuck’s chest. He slipped his arm around her waist and squeezed her tight. “Good girl,” he said, like he was talking to a dog. As she stumbled out onto the dance floor with him Jenny realized Chuck hadn’t even asked her her name. But he was so handsome, and the party was so amazing. This would definitely go down as one of the most memorable nights of her life. Yes. It would. “I always drink rum and Coke,” Vanessa told Serena. “Unless I’m doing shots. But you have whatever you want. They have everything here.” Ruby was taking their drink order. Because she was in the band, she got them for free. “I feel like something different,” Serena mused. “Can I just get a shot of Stoli and a Coke on the side?” she asked Ruby. “Nice choice,” Ruby said approvingly. Ruby had a cool black bob with short bangs and was wearing dark green leather pants. She looked like the kind of girl who could take care of herself anywhere, anytime. Her band was called SugarDaddy, and she was the only girl in it. She played bass. “And don’t forget my cherry!” Vanessa yelled after her as Ruby left to get the drinks. “Your sister’s awesome,” Serena said. Vanessa shrugged. “Yeah,” she said. “It’s a pain in my ass, though. I mean, everyone’s always like, ‘Ruby’s so cool’ and I’m like, ‘Hello?’ ” Serena laughed. “I know what you mean. My older brother—he goes to Brown, and everybody loves him. My parents are always so into everything he does, and now that I’m back from boarding school it’s like, ‘Oh, we have a daughter?’ ” “Totally,” Vanessa agreed. She couldn’t believe she was having such a ridiculously normal conversation with Serena van der Woodsen. Ruby brought them their drinks. “Sorry guys, I gotta go set up,” she said. “Good luck,” Serena told her. “Thanks, sweetie,” Ruby said. She picked up her guitar case and went to find her bandmates. Vanessa couldn’t believe it. Ruby never called anyone sweetie except for Tofu, her parakeet. Serena certainly had a way of melting people’s hearts. Vanessa was even starting to like her a little herself. She picked up her drink and clinked glasses with Serena. “To cool-ass chicks,” she said, knowing it sounded seriously gay, but not really giving a shit. Serena laughed and tossed back her shot of Stoli. She wiped her eyes and blinked a few times. A scruffy-looking guy wearing an oversized tuxedo was walking into the bar. He stopped in the doorway and stared at Serena as if he’d seen a ghost. “Hey, isn’t that your friend Dan?” Serena asked Vanessa, pointing at him. Dan was wearing a tuxedo for the first time in his life. He’d felt pretty sharp when he first put it on, but he still couldn’t deal with the Kiss on the Lips party. So when Jenny let him blow the party off, he’d come to The Five and Dime to apologize to Vanessa for being such a dick over the Marjorie thing. He’d tried to convince himself it didn’t matter that he’d probably never see Serena van der Woodsen again in his life. After all, he told himself, life was fragile and absurd. Life was absurd all right. Because there Serena was. In Williamsburg, of all places. His dream girl. Dan felt like Cinderella. He shoved his hands in his pockets to keep them from shaking, and tried to plan his next move. He would walk over and suavely offer to buy Serena a drink. Too bad the only suave thing about him was his outfit. Even it was only half as suave as it could have been if he’d kept the Armani from Barneys. “Hey,” Dan said when he reached their table, his voice cracking. “What’re you doing here?” Vanessa said. She couldn’t believe her luck. Did it have to be quite this bad? Was she going to have to sit there for the rest of the night watching Dan drool over Serena? Sorry, honey. “I blew off that Kiss on the Lips party. It really wasn’t my thing,” Dan said. “Me too,” Serena said, smiling at Dan like he’d never been smiled at before. Dan clutched the back of Vanessa’s chair for balance. “Hey,” he said shyly. “You remember Serena,” Vanessa said. “She’s in my class at Constance.” “Hey Dan,” Serena said. “Nice tux.” Dan blushed and looked down at himself. “Thanks,” he said. He looked up again. “And that dress is . . . looks . . . pretty also,” he stuttered. He hadn’t thought it was possible to sound so idiotic. “What about my shirt?” Vanessa said loudly. “Have you ever seen me look this hot?” Dan stared at Vanessa’s shirt. It was a red T-shirt. Not very exciting. “Is it new?” he asked, confused. “Never mind,” Vanessa sighed, impatiently swirling the maraschino cherry around in her glass. “Grab a chair,” Serena said, moving over to make room for him. “Ruby’s band is going to play in a minute.” The rumors couldn’t possibly be true. Serena didn’t look like a sex-crazed, drug-addicted maniac. She looked delicate and perfect and exciting, like a wildflower you stumble upon unexpectedly in Central Park. Dan wanted to hold hands with her and whisper to each other all night long. He sat down next to her. His hands were shaking so badly he had to sit on them to keep them still. He wanted her so badly. The band started to play. Serena finished her vodka. “Would you like another one?” Dan offered eagerly. Serena shook her head. “I’m okay,” she said, sitting back in her chair. “Let’s just listen to the music for a while.” “Okay,” Dan said. As long as he was near her, he’d do anything. “Hello, everyone!” Jeremy Scott Tompkinson said loudly, throwing open the doors to the old Barneys building. As always, Nate, Jeremy, Anthony, and Charlie had smoked a big fatty before the party. Nate was silly high, and when he walked through the door and saw Blair pushing her way through the crowd with her hand pressed over her mouth, he started to giggle. “What’re you laughing at, jackass?” Anthony said, shoving his elbow into Nate’s ribs. “Nothing’s even happened yet.” Nate wiped his hand over his face and tried to look serious, but it was hard to keep a straight face in a room full of boys dressed like penguins, and girls in sexy dresses. He knew Blair was in the bathroom, throwing up as usual. The question was, should he go rescue her? It was the type of thing a good, concerned boyfriend would do. Go for it. You know you want to. “Bar’s over there,” Charlie said, leading the way. “I’ll catch you guys later,” Nate said, pushing his way through the crowded dance floor. He ducked around Chuck, who was gyrating his crotch against the ass of a short girl with curly brown hair and insane cleavage, and headed for the ladies room. But Blair hadn’t made it to the ladies’ room. Before she’d gotten there, a middle-aged woman in a red Chanel suit with a “Save the Falcons” button pinned to it had stopped her. “Blair Waldorf?” the woman said, holding out her hand and smiling her best fundraising smile. “I’m Rebecca Agnelli, from the Central Park Save the Peregrine Falcon Foundation.” Talk about bad timing. Blair stared at the woman’s hand. Her own right hand was clapped over her mouth, holding in the vomit that threatened to spew out at any moment. She started to remove it so she could shake hands, but then a waiter walked by with sizzling skewers of spicy chicken, and Blair gagged. Blair squeezed her lips together to keep the puke from seeping out the sides of her mouth and changed hands, clapping the left one over her mouth and reaching out to shake hands with her right hand. “It’s so wonderful to finally meet you,” the woman said as they clasped hands. “I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done.” Blair nodded and pulled her hand away. Enough was enough. She couldn’t hold on any longer. Her eyes darted around the crowded room, desperately seeking help. There were Kati and Isabel, dancing with each other. There was Anthony Avuldsen, handing out tabs of E. There was Jeremy Scott Tompkinson, trying to teach Laura Salmon and Rain Hoffstetter how to blow smoke rings by the bar. There was Chuck, holding that little Ginny girl so tight it looked like her boobs might explode. All the extras were there, but where was her leading man, her savior? “Blair?” She turned around and saw Nate pushing his way through the crowd toward her. Nate’s eyes were bloodshot, his face slack, his hair uncombed. He looked more like a forgettable supporting actor than a leading man.

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