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“Hello？”　Nate’s　voice　sounded　sleepy。　Had　she　woken　him　up？

Not　really。

“Natie！”　she　yelled　into　the　inter；　trying　to　calm　herself。　She　didn’t　want　to　just　burst　in　his　room　and　profess　her　love。　“It’s　me　and　it’s　freezing！”

“Serena？”　His　crackly　voice　sounded　incredulous　through　the　inter。

“No；　silly；　it’s　your　mom。　Of　course　it’s　me！”　she　said　impatiently。

“Oh。”　Nate　paused　and　Serena　held　her　breath。　She　didn’t　have　another　script　to　follow。　Nate　had　to　let　her　in。　“e　in；”　he　said　finally；　pressing　the　buzzer　long　and　loud。

Serena　pulled　open　the　door；　ran　up　the　stairs；　and　burst　into　Nate’s　bedroom。　One　of　the　best　things　about　Nate’s　house　was　the　fact　that　the　third　floor　was　entirely　his。　When　they　were　younger；　they　used　to　pretend　his　bedroom；　den；　and　bathroom　were　their　own　private　apartment。

Some　people　still　like　playing　house。

“Hello？”　Serena　called　again；　hearing　her　voice　bounce　off　the　dark　oak　ceiling。

Nate　walked　out　of　the　bathroom；　wearing　a　wrinkled　green　T…shirt　and　green　plaid　boxers。　Serena　looked　gorgeous　and　healthy　and　happy；　all　in　one　spectacular　package。　He　was　suddenly　very　aware　of　the　fact　that　Blair　was　still　showering。　“What　are　you　doing　here？”　Nate　asked。　Blair　had　said　Serena　was　at　rehearsal　all　day。

“I　was　just　in　the　neighborhood！”　Serena　wandered　over　to　his　dresser　and　picked　up　a　model　sailboat。　She　passed　it　gently　from　hand　to　hand　as　if　playing　a　game　of　catch　with　herself。　“So；　what　have　you　been　up　to　today？　It’s　freezing。”

“Not　much；”　Nate　mumbled。　How　long　had　Blair　been　in　the　shower？　Ten　minutes；　fifteen　minutes？　She　usually　took　forever；　but　he　wasn’t　sure　how　much　time　he　had。

To　do　what；　exactly？

Nate　felt　confused。　Just　as　he’d　always　felt　whenever　he　was　with　Serena　and　Blair　at　the　same　time。　Why　did　they　have　to　be　so　confusing？　He　loved　Blair。　He　was　following　Blair　to　school；　for　God’s　sake。　So　then　why　did　Serena；　with　her　deep　blue　eyes　that　reminded　him　of　the　Pacific　Ocean　and　her　long　limbs；　tight　and　taut　like　the　strings　of　a　tennis　racket；　make　him　feel…　well；　make　him　feel　the　way　he　felt　right　now。

Serena　put　down　the　tiny　sailboat　model　and　picked　up　another；　larger　ship　with　three　tiny　canvas　sails。　Ever　since　she　could　remember；　Nate　had　been　obsessed　with　sailboats。　She　knew　she　was　avoiding　what　she　really　wanted　to　say；　but　now　that　she　was　here；　there　were　so　many　emotions　bubbling　inside　her；　she　wasn’t　sure　where　to　begin。

“You　know；　we’re　supposed　to　wrap　Coffee　at　the　Palace　next　week。　After　that；　I　don’t　have　any　projects。　My　parents　were　hoping　I’d　start　at　Yale　in　the　spring；　but　I　think　I　need　an　adventure。”　She　felt　her　heart　hammering　in　her　chest。　“Are　you　going　sailing　again？　Maybe　I　could　e；”　she　offered；　her　face　breaking　into　a　sunny　smile。

“It’s　not　that　much　of　an　adventure。　A　lot　of　knot　tying；”　Nate　said　nonsensically。　He　knew　he　should　explain　that　he　and　Blair　were　together　now；　and　that　he　was　going　to　Yale　with　her；　but　he　couldn’t。　Instead；　he　imagined　what　it　would　be　like　on　the　ocean　with　Serena。

“I　like　tying　knots。　I　showed　you　how　to　tie　your　shoes　when　we　were　kids；　remember？　Take　me　along。　I　can　be　first　mate！　Aye；　aye；　Captain！”　Serena　goofily　did　a　mock　salute；　her　dark　eyes　looking　straight　into　Nate’s　glittering　green　ones。　Please　say　yes；　she　willed。

“Like　that　would　ever　happen。”　Blair　strode　out　of　the　bathroom；　wearing　just　a　towel　wrapped　around　her　body；　her　chestnut　hair　damp　around　her　shoulders。　“Nate　and　I　are　going　to　Yale；　together；”　she　added；　narrowing　her　eyes。　Why　the　fuck　was　Serena　here？　And　had　she　really　just　asked　Nate　what　Blair　thought　she　had？　Was　she　inviting　herself　to　sail　the　world　with　him？

Serena　felt　like　she’d　been　punched　in　the　gut。　Of　course　Blair　had　been　eavesdropping　from　the　bathroom　this　whole　time。　Of　course　she　was　here；　watching　over　Nate’s　every　move；　not　letting　him　out　of　her　sight。　Of　course　they　were　riding　off　into　the　sunset　together。　“How　does　your　boyfriend　feel　about　that？”　she　muttered　under　her　breath。

Blair　narrowed　her　icy　blue　eyes。　“What　did　you　say？”

Serena　crossed　her　arms　over　her　chest　and　glared　at　Blair。　If　Blair　wanted　a　fight；　fine；　she’d　give　it　to　her。　She　wasn’t　going　to　let　Blair　get　away　with　stealing　Nate。

Again。

“I　said；”　Serena　repeated　coolly；　making　sure　to　enunciate　each　word；　“What。　Does。　Your。　Boyfriend。　Think。　About。　That？”

“Boyfriend？”　Nate　asked　moronically；　looking　between　the　two　girls　as　if　he　were　watching　a　tennis　match。　Blair　had　a　boyfriend？

“I　don’t　have　a　boyfriend。　How　would　Serena　know；　anyway？”　Blair　challenged。

“I　don’t　know；　because　you　wouldn’t　stop　talking　about　him　the　other　day？　You　know；　after　you　spent　Christmas　with　him　and　all？”　Serena　said　sarcastically。

Nate　glanced　between　the　two　of　them　in　disbelief。　Out　on　the　ocean　with　Chips；　they　could　always　tell　a　storm　was　ing　by　the　change　in　the　air。　It　was　the　same　with　Serena　and　Blair。　He　could　feel　a　change　in　the　room；　as　if　a　palpable　electric　charge　was　emanating　from　the　girls’　skin。

“Serena；　just　get　your　own　fucking　life；”　Blair　snapped。　“You　know　nothing　about　me。”　Her　white　Egyptian　cotton　towel　was　askew；　and　blotches　of　pink　appeared　on　her　pale　neck。　She　looked　like　she　was　ready　to　claw　Serena’s　eyes　out。

Uh…oh。

“Oh；　please。　You　think　you　can　just　have　whatever　you　want；　whenever　you　want。”　Serena’s　voice　had　taken　on　a　slightly　hysterical　edge。

Instead　of　speaking；　Blair　hurled　a　Mason　Pearson　hairbrush　at　Serena。　Because　Blair　had　terrible　aim；　she　missed；　creating　a　dent　in　the　wall。　The　brush　clattered　onto　Nate’s　dresser　and　hit　one　of　the　sailboat　models；　splintering　it　into　pieces。

“I　can’t　do　this；”　Nate　yelled；　surprising　himself。　His　voice　echoed　in　his　head。　“You　two　always　fight。　I　never　should　have　e　back。　I’m　leaving。　Don’t　look　for　me。”　He　grabbed　a　few　pairs　of　clean　boxers　from　his　dresser；　tossed　them　in　the　duffel　he　hadn’t　bothered　unpacking　since　the　Belinda；　and　stalked　down　the　hallway。

“Nate；　wait！”　Serena　yelled；　running　behind　him。

“Nate！”　Blair　called　at　the　same　time；　racing　after　Serena。

The　door　slammed；　leaving　Blair　and　Serena　alone。

Blair　glared　at　Serena。　“We’re　no　longer　friends；”　she　spat。　Then　she　turned　on　her　heel　and　followed　Nate　down　the　hall　and　out　the　door　to　the　stairs　that　led　to　the　street。

“Good！”　Serena　retorted。　She　knew　she　sounded　like　an　angry　four…year…old　whose　best　friend　has　stolen　her　favorite　toy。

Familiar　story。

Serena　collapsed　on　Nate’s　bed　and　stared　up　at　the　ceiling。　The　skylight　window　up　above　was　covered　with　pure　white　snow。　She　wanted　to　cry；　but　no　tears　fell。　Instead；　she　seethed。　Everything　that　had　ever　gone　wrong　in　her　life　was　Blair’s　fault。

Happy　fucking　New　Year！

II

　



hey　people！

As　we’ve　all　learned　by　now；　the　etymology　of　the　word　sophomore　es　from　the　Greek　words　sophos；　meaning　“wise；”　and　moros；　meaning　“foolish。”　It’s　a　contradictory　term　for　a　contradictory　year：　We’ve　learned　that　pizza　and　PBR　don’t　mix　with　our　favorite　skinny　jeans；　that　a　TA　can　be　extremely　hot　if　we　look　past　his　dorky　collection　of　PBS　tote　bags；　and　that　placing　a　kegerator　in　the　mon　area　of　your　dorm　does　not　constitute　a　design　decision。　But　we　still　have　a　lot　to　figure　out。

Take；　for　example；　N；　who’s　displaying　a　lot　of　sophomoric　tendencies　despite　his　official　class　year。　Last　year；　he　may　have　toyed　with　the　idea　of　attending　Yale；　but　as　a　tussle　between　B　and　S　became　his　own　personal　crash　course　in　conflict；　he　realized　that　he　might　be　better　off　with　just　boys—at　least　for　now。　He’s　now　a　first　year　at　Deep　Springs　College；　an　all…male　two…year　academy　on　a　working　alfalfa　farm　in　California。　To　each　his　own…。

For　many；　the　key　to　figuring　out　your　future　is　determining　whom　you　want　to　spend　it　with。　Case　in　point：　B。　She　and　her　boyfriend；　P；　patched　things　up　quickly　after　their　Tiffany　fallout　last　year；　and　are　now　happily　ensconced　in　their　Chapel　Street　town　house。　But　what　will　happen　to　their　cozy　domesticity　once　P　graduates　in　the　spring？　Or　consider　V。　Her　boyfriend；　H；　may　have　wowed　the　critics　at　Cannes；　but　Hollywood　hasn’t　gone　to　his　head—he’s　often　spotted　picking　up　V’s　favorite　Hummus　Place　order　while　she　studies　late　in　Bobst　Library。　How　sweet。　Or；　um；　salty。

On　the　other　hand；　you　could　do　some　soul…searching　and　find　that　the　only　person　you　want　to　spend　time　with　is　you。　Take　S；　who’s　often　curled　up　with　a　cappuccino　and　Kant　at　Doma　Cafe　around　the　corner　from　her　Perry　Street　apartment。　Or　our　favorite　shaggy…haired　poet；　D；　surrounded　by　plenty　of　girls　in　his　Columbia　poetry　seminars；　but　always　leaving　campus　solo。　After　all；　the　most　important　thing　you　learn　about　in　college　might　just　be　yourself。

sightings

B；　with　her　boyfriend；　P；　at　LAX。　After　a　sunny　West　Coast　holiday；　is　the　happy　couple　headed　back　our　way？　D　shuffling　from　his　apartment　up　to　the　Columbia　campus；　muttering　to　himself　and　chain…smoking　Camels。　Still　playing　the　tortured　artist；　or　has　he　really　lost　it？　V　and　H　at　a　Miramax　holiday　party；　talking　to　a　New　York　reporter　about　V’s　decorating　plans　for　H’s　brand…new　Williamsburg　loft。　And　the　biggest　transformation　award　goes　to？　S　at　Doma　（again！）；　reading　Civilization　and　Its　Discontents　and　looking　pretty　discontent　herself。　Research　for　a　role；　or　is　someone　having　a　little　slump　of　her　own？　D’s　little　sister；　J；　at　JFK；　boarding　a　flight　to　Paris—Bonne　Année！　N　in　flannel；　hitching　a　ride　to　Eastern　Sierra　Regional　Airport；　his　green　eyes　glinting　with　tears。　Why　so　sad；　N？

your　e…mail

q：　Dear　Gossip　Girl；

I’m　a　sophomore　womyn　who’s　always　dated　other　womyn。　I　had　a　sense　my　last　girlfriend　was　more　of　a　BUG—you　know；　a　bisexual　until　graduation；　which　is　one　of　those　acronyms　I　hate；　but　it’s　bee　so　accepted　in　popular　society　that　at　least　people　are　talking　about　it。　Anyway；　this　BUG　not　only　broke　up　with　me；　but　she’s　dating　this　dumb　football　player　who　I　know　for　a　fact　always　defaces　our　womyn’s　center　posters。　Should　I　stage　an　intervention？

—stilllove

a：　Dear　Still　Love；

I’m　sorry　to　hear　about　your　romantic　woes；　but　if　your　ex　is　just　a　bug　to　you；　then　maybe　she　wasn’t　worth　it　to　begin　with。　Instead　of　postering　for　the　womyn’s　center；　post　a　personal　ad。　Who　knows　what　will　happen！

—GG

q：　Dear　Gossip　Girl；

There’s　a　guy　in　my　poetry　class　who’s　that　tortured；　soulful　type—the　kind　of　guy　who’s　too　busy　being　an　artist　to　even　think　about　things　like　food。　I’ve　only　seen　him　ingest　instant　coffee　and　cigarettes；　which　I　think　is　cute；　but　my　suitemates　find　creepy。　What　do　you　think？

—hotforsoulful

a：　Dear　HFS；

Sounds　like　this　particular　soul　may　be　in　mourning　for　a　muse。　My　advice：　Tortured　artists　rarely　make　stable　partners。　Instead；　find　a　happy…go…lucky　munications　major　and　read　poetry　to　each　other。

—GG

ready；　set；　go…　again

One　of　the　best　things　about　being　in　school　is　the　opportunity　to　have　two　fresh　starts　a　year。　There’s　September；　with　the　new　housing　assignments；　new　books；　and　new　professors；　it’s　the　start　of　the　academic　year。　But　January　1　is　a　golden　do…over　opportunity。　And　some　of　us　just　might　need　a　do…over。　Here’s　to　second　chances。

You　know　you　love　me；

gossip　girl

you　never　can　say　goodbye

“You　okay；　son？”　Captain　Archibald　placed　a　firm　hand　on　Nate’s　shoulder　outside　All　Souls　Church　on　Lexington　Avenue。　Around　them；　patrons　were　spilling　out　of　the　church　onto　the　cold　stone　steps。　White　lilies　were　set　up　around　the　entrance　of　the　church　as　if　for　a　celebration；　not　a　funeral。

“I’m　fine；”　Nate　muttered；　though　he　was　anything　but　fine。　His　Brooks　Brothers　blazer　was　too　tight　across　his　shoulders；　and　his　sky…blue　Hermès　tie　felt　like　it　was　choking　him。　It　didn’t　feel　right　to　be　dressed　like　this；　it　didn’t　feel　right　to　be　back　in　New　York；　and　it　definitely　didn’t　feel　right　to　be　at　Chips’s　funeral。　He　couldn’t　believe　Chips　was　dead。　He’d　had　cancer　and　hadn’t　even　bothered　to　tell　Nate　he’d　been　sick。　He