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Ever　have　that　totally　freakish　feeling　that　someone　is　listening　in　on　your　conversations；　spying　
on　you　and　your　friends；　following　you　to　parties；　and　generally　stalking　you？　Well；　they　are。　Or　
actually；I　am。　The　truth　is；　I？ve　been　here　all　along；　because　I？m　one　of　you。　

Feeling　totally　lost？　Don？t　get　out　much？　Don？t　know　who　？we？　are？　Allow　me　to　explain。　
We？re　an　exclusive　group　of　indescribably　beautiful　people　who　happen　to　live　in　those　majestic；　
green…awninged；　white…glove…doorman　buildings　near　Central　Park。　We　attend　Manhattan？s　most　
elite　single…sex　private　schools。　Our　families　own　yachts　and　estates　in　various　exotic　locations　
throughout　the　world。　We　frequent　all　the　best　beaches　and　the　most　exclusive　ski　resorts。　We？re　
seated　immediately　at　the　nicest　restaurants　in　the　chicest　neighborhoods　without　a　reservation。　
We　turn　heads。　But　don？t　confuse　us　with　Hollywood　actors　or　models　or　rock　stars？those　people　
you　feel　like　you　know　because　you　hear　so　much　about　them；　but　who　are　actually　pletely　
boring　pared　to　the　parts　they　play　or　the　songs　they　sing。　There？s　nothing　boring　about　me　or　
my　friends；　and　the　more　I　tell　you　about　us；　the　more　you？re　going　to　want　to　know。　I？ve　kept　
quiet　until　now；　but　something　has　happened　and　I　just　can？t　stay　quiet　about　it。　。　。　。　

the　greatest　story　ever　told　

We　learned　in　our　first　eleventh…grade　creative　writing　class　this　week　that　most　great　stories　
begin　in　one　of　the　following　fashions：　someone　mysteriously　disappears　or　a　stranger　es　to　
town。　The　story　I？m　about　to　tell　is　of　the　？someone　mysteriously　disappears？　variety。　


To　be　specific；S　isgone。　

In　order　to　unravel　the　mystery　of　why　she？s　left　and　where　she？s　gone；　I？m　going　to　have　to　
backtrack　to　last　winter？the　winter　of　our　sophomore　year？when　the　La　Mer　skin　cream　hit　the　fan　
and　our　pretty　pink　rose…scented　bubble　burst。　It　all　started　with　three　inseparable；　perfectly　
innocent；　？ber…gorgeous　fifteen…year…olds。　Well；　they？re　sixteen　now；　and　let？s　just　say　that　two　of　
them　arenot　that　innocent。　

If　anyone　is　going　to　tell　this　tale　it　has　to　be　me；　because　I　was　at　the　scene　of　every　crime。　So　
sit　back　while　I　unravel　the　past　and　reveal　everyone？s　secrets；　because　I　know　everything；　and　
what　I　don？t　know　I？ll　invent；　elaborately。　

Admit　it：　you？re　already　falling　for　me。　

Love　you　too　。　。　。　

　gossip　girl　

the　best　stories　begin　with　one　boy　and　two　girls　

？Truce！？　Serena　van　der　Woodsen　screamed　as　Nate　Archibald　body…checked　her　into　a　
three…foot…high　drift　of　powdery　white　snow。　Cold　and　wet；　it　tunneled　into　her　ears　and　down　her　
pants。　Nate　dove　on　top　of　her；　all　five…foot　eleven　inches　of　his　perfect；　golden…brown…haired；　
glittering…green…eyed；　fifteen…year…old　boyness。　Nate　smelled　like　Downy　and　the　Kiehl？s　
sandalwood　soap　the　maid　stocked　his　bathroom　with。　Serena　just　lay　there；　trying　to　breathe　with　
him　on　top　of　her。　？My　scalp　is　cold；？　she　pleaded；　getting　a　mouthful　of　Nate？s　snow…dampened；　
godlike　curls　as　she　spoke。　

Nate　sighed　reluctantly；　as　if　he　could　have　spent　all　day　outside　in　the　frigid　February　meat　
locker　that　was　the　back　garden　of　his　family？s　Eighty…second…Street…just…off…Park…Avenue　
Manhattan　town　house。　He　rolled　onto　his　back　and　wriggled　like　Serena？s　long…dead　golden　
retriever；　Guppy；　when　she　used　to　let　him　loose　on　the　green　grass　of　the　Great　Lawn　in　Central　
Park。　Then　he　stood　up；　awkwardly　dusting　off　the　seat　of　his　neatly　pressed　Brooks　Brothers　
khakis。　It　was　Saturday；　but　he　still　wore　the　same　clothes　he　wore　every　weekday　as　a　sophomore　
at　the　St。　Jude？s　School　for　Boys　over　on　East　End　Avenue。　It　was　the　unofficial　Prince　of　the　
Upper　East　Side　uniform；　the　same　uniform　he　and　his　classmates　had　been　wearing　since　they？d　
started　nursery　school　together　at　Park　Avenue　Presbyterian。　

Nate　held　out　his　hand　to　help　Serena　to　her　feet。　She　frowned　cautiously　up　at　him；　worried　that　
he　was　only　faking　her　out　and　was　about　to　tackle　her　again。　？I　really　am　cold。？　He　flapped　his　
hand　at　her　impatiently。　？I　know。　e　on。？　She　snorted；　pretended　to　pick　her　nose　and　wipe　it　
on　the　seat　of　her　snow…soaked　dark　denim　Earl　jeans；　then　grabbed　his　hand　with　her　faux…snotty　
one。　？Thanks；　pal。？　She　staggered　to　her　feet。　？You？re　a　real　chum。？　Nate　led　the　way　inside。　The　


backs　of　his　pant　legs　were　damp　and　she　could　see　the　outline　of　his　tighty…whiteys。　Really；　how　
gay　of　him！　He　held　the　glass…paned　French　doors　open　and　stood　aside　to　let　her　pass。　Serena　
kicked　off　her　baby　blue　Uggs　and　scuffed　her　bare；　Urban　Decay　Piggy　Bank…pink…toenailed　feet　
down　the　long　hall　to　the　stately　town　house？s　enormous；　barely　used　all…white　Italian　Modern　
kitchen。　Nate？s　father　was　a　former　sea　captain…turned…banker；　and　his　mother　was　a　French　
society　hostess。　They　were　basically　never　home；　and　when　theywere　home；　they　were　at　the　
opera。　

？Are　you　hungry？？　Nate　asked；　following　her。　？I？m　so　sick　of　takeout。　My　parents　have　been　in　
Venezuela　or　Santa　Domingo　or　wherever　they　go　in　February　for　like　two　weeks；　and　I？ve　been　
eating　burritos；　pizza；　or　sushi　every　freaking　night。　I　asked　Regina　to　buy　ham；　Swiss；　Pepperidge　
Farm　white　bread；　Grammy　Smith　apples；　and　peanut　butter。　All　I　want　is　the　food　I　ate　in　
kindergarten。？　He　tugged　anxiously　on　his　wavy；　golden　brown　hair。　？Maybe　I？m　going　through　
some　sort　of　midlife　crisis　or　something。？　Like　his　life　is　so　stressful？　

？It？s　GrannySmith；　silly；？　Serena　informed　him　fondly。　She　opened　a　glossy　white　cupboard　and　
found　an　unopened　box　of　cinnamon…and…brown…sugar　Pop…Tarts。　Ripping　open　the　box；　she　
removed　one　of　the　packets　from　inside；　tore　it　open　with　her　neat；　white　teeth；　and　pulled　out　a　
thickly　frosted　pastry。　She　sucked　on　the　Pop…Tart？s　sweet；　crumbly　corner　and　hopped　up　on　the　
counter；　kicking　the　cupboards　below　with　her　size…eight…and…a…half　feet。　Pop…Tarts　at　Nate？s。　
She？d　been　having　them　there　since　she　was　five　years　old。　And　now　。　。　。　and　now　。　。　。

　Serena　sighed　heavily。　？Mom　and　Dad　want　me　to　go　to　boarding　school　next　year；？　she　
announced；　her　enormous；　almost　navy　blue　eyes　growing　huge　and　glassy　as　they　welled　up　with　
unexpected　tears。　Go　away　to　boarding　school　and　leave　Nate？　It　hurt　too　much　to　even　think　
about。　

Nate　flinched　as　if　he？d　been　slapped　in　the　face　by　an　invisible　hand。　He　grabbed　the　other　
Pop…Tart　from　out　of　the　packet　and　hopped　up　on　the　counter　next　to　Serena。　？No　way；？　he　
responded　decisively。　She　couldn？t　leave。　He　wouldn？t　allow　it。　

？They　want　to　travel　more；？　Serena　explained。　The　pink；　perfect　curve　of　her　lower　lip　trembled　
dangerously。　？If　I？m　home；　they　feel　like　they　need　to　be　home　more。　Like　I　want　them　around？　
Anyway；　they？ve　arranged　for　me　to　meet　some　of　the　deans　of　admissions　and　stuff。　It？s　like　I　
have　no　choice。？　Nate　scooted　over　a　few　inches　and　put　his　arm　around　her。　？The　city　is　going　to　
suck　if　you？re　not　here；？　he　told　her　earnestly。　？You　can？t　go。？　Serena　took　a　deep　shuddering　
breath　and　rested　her　pale　blond　head　on　his　shoulder。　？I　love　you；？　she　murmured；　closing　her　
delicate　eyelids。　Their　bodies　were　so　close　the　entire　Nate…side　of　her　hummed。　If　she　turned　her　
head　and　tilted　her　chin　just　so；　she　could　have　easily　kissed　his　warm；　lovely　neck。　And　she　
wanted　to。　She　was　actually　dying　to；　because　she　really　did　love　him；　with　all　her　heart。　

She　did？　Hello？　Since　when？！　

Maybe　since　ballroom…dancing　school　way　back　in　fourth　grade。　She　was　tall　for　her　age；　and　


Nate　was　always　such　a　gentleman　about　her　lack　of　rhythm　and　the　way　she　stepped　on　his　
insteps　and　jutted　her　bony　elbows　into　his　sides。　He？d　finesse　it　by　grabbing　her　hand　and　
spinning　her　around　so　that　the　skirt　of　her　puffy；　oyster…colored　satin　tea…length　Bonpoint　dress　
twirled　out　magnificently。　Their　teacher；　Mrs。　Jaffe；　who　had　long　blue　hair　that　she　kept　in　place　
with　a　pearl…adorned　black　hairnet；　worshipped　Nate。　So　did　Serena？s　best　friend；　Blair　Waldorf。　
And　so　did　Serena？she　just　hadn？t　realized　it　until　now。　Serena　shuddered　and　her　perfect　skin　
broke　out　in　a　rash　of　goose　bumps。　Her　whole　body　seemed　to　be　having　an　adverse　reaction　to　
the　idea　of　revealing　something　she？d　kept　so　well　hidden　for　so　long；　even　from　herself。　

Nate　wrapped　his　lacrosse…toned　arms　around　her　long；　narrow　waist　and　pulled　her　close；　
tucking　her　pale　gold　head　into　the　crook　of　his　neck　and　massaging　the　ruts　between　the　ribs　on　
her　back　with　his　fingertips。　The　best　thing　about　Serena　was　her　total　lack　of　embarrassing　flab。　
Her　entire　body　was　as　long　and　lean　and　taut　as　the　strings　on　his　Prince　titanium　tennis　racket。　

It　was　painful　having　such　a　ridiculously　hot　best　friend。　Why　couldn？t　his　best　friend　be　some　
lard…assed　dude　with　zits　and　dandruff？　Instead　he　had　Serena　and　Blair　Waldorf；　hands　down　the　
two　hottest　girls　on　the　Upper　East　Side；　and　maybe　all　of　Manhattan；　or　even　the　whole　world。　

Serena　was　an　absolute　goddess？every　guy　Nate　knew　talked　about　her？but　she　was　mysterious。　
She？d　laugh　for　hours　if　she　spotted　a　cloud　shaped　like　a　toilet　seat　or　something　equally　
ridiculous；　and　the　next　moment　she？d　be　wistful　and　sad。　It　was　impossible　to　tell　what　she　was　
thinking　most　of　the　time。　Sometimes　Nate　wondered　if　she　would？ve　been　more　fortable　in　a　
body　that　was　slightly　less　perfect；　because　it　would？ve　given　her　moreincentive　；　to　use　an　SAT　
vocabulary　word。　Like　she　wasn？t　sure　what　she　had　to　aspire　to；　since　she　basically　had　
everything　a　girl　could　possibly　want。　

Blair　was　petite；　with　a　pretty；　foxlike　face；　blue　eyes；　and　wavy　chestnut…colored　hair。　She　let　
everyone　know　what　she　was　thinking；　and　she　was　fiercely　petitive。　For　instance；　she　always　
found　opportunities　to　point　out　that　her　chest　was　almost　a　whole　cup　size　larger　than　Serena？s　
and　that　she？d　scored　almost　100　points　higher　than　Serena　on　the　practice　SAT。　

Way　back　in　fifth　grade；　Serena　had　told　Nate　she　was　pretty　sure　Blair　had　a　crush　on　him。　He　
started　to　notice　that　Blair　did　stick　her　chest　out　when　he　was　looking；　and　she　was　always　either　
bossing　him　around　or　fixing　his　hair。　Of　course　Blair　never　admitted　that　she　liked　him；　which　
made　him　like　her　even　more。　

Nate　sighed　deeply。　No　one　understood　how　difficult　it　was　being　best　friends　with　two　such　
beautiful；　impossible　girls。　

Like　he　would　have　been　friends　with　them　if　they　were　awkward　and　butt…ugly？　

He　closed　his　eyes　and　breathed　in　the　sweet　scent　of　Serena？s　Fr？d？ric　Fekkai　Apple　Cider　
clarifying　shampoo。　He？d　kissed　lots　of　girls　and　had　even　gone　to　third　base　last　June　with　
L？Wren　Knowes；　a　very　experienced　older　Seaton　Arms　School　senior　who　really　did　seem　to　


know　everything。　But　kissing　Serena　would　be　。　。　。　different。　He　loved　her。　It　was　as　simple　as　that。　
She　was　his　best　friend；　and　he　loved　her。　

And　if　you　can？t　kiss　your　best　friend；　whocan　you　kiss？　

upper　east　side　schoolgirl　uncovers　shocking　sex　scandal！　

？Ew；？　Blair　Waldorf　muttered　at　her　reflection　in　the　full…length　mirror　on　the　back　of　her　closet　
door。　She　liked　to　keep　her　closet　organized；　but　not　too　organized。　Whites　with　whites；　off…whites　
with　off…whites；　navy　with　navy；　black　with　black。　But　that　was　it。　Jeans　were　tossed　in　a　heap　on　
the　closet　floor。　And　there　were　dozens　of　them。　It　was　almost　a　game　to　close　her　eyes　and　feel　
around　and　e　up　with　a　pair　that　used　to　be　too　tight　in　the　ass　but　fit　a　little　loosely　now　that　
she？d　cut　out　her　daily　after…dinner　milk…and…Chips…Ahoy　routine。　

Blair　looked　at　the　mirror；　assessing　her　outfit。　Her　Marc　by　Marc　Jacobs　shell　pink　sheer　cotton　
blouse　was　fine。　It　was　the　fuchsia　La　Perla　bra　that　was　the　problem。　It　showed　right　through　the　
blouse　so　that　she　looked　like　a　stripper。　But　she　was　only　going　to　Nate？s　house　to　hang　out　with　
him　and　Serena。　And　Nate　liked　to　talk　about　bras。　He　was　genuinely　curious　about；　for　instance；　
what　the　purpose　of　an　underwire　was；　or　why　some　bras　fastened　in　front　and　some　fastened　in　
back。　It　was　a　big　turn…on　for　him；　obviously；　but　it　was　also　s