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head　as　she　kissed　him　ever　so　tenderly。　？You　came　back　to　me。？　

？Er；　Dan？　It？s　me；　Greg。　Are　you　okay？？　

Greg？s　voice　snapped　Dan　back　to　reality。　He　sat　up　and　rubbed　his　eyes。　？Oh；　sorry；　I　think　I　
was　nodding　off　there。？　

？It？s　okay。You？ve　been　sleeping　for　about　an　hour。？　

？I　have？？　He　stood　up　and　then　sat　down　again　quickly。　Whoa。　？I　was　just　listening　to　that　girl　
talk　about　liking　Salinger　and　that？s　the　last　thing　I　remember。。。。？　

？That　girl？？　asked　Greg；　pointing　out　the　curly…haired　Franny；　who　was　sprawled　on　the　floor　
across　the　room　while　Peter；　her　fellow　Salinger　fan；　tickled　her　neck　with　his　tongue。　？She；　uh；　
connected　with　a　fellow　book　lover；　as　you　can　see。？　

？What？s　going　on？？　Dan　looked　around　the　room；　which　had　grown　considerably　darker。　It　
seemed　like　all　twenty…two　salon…goers　were　hunkered　on　the　floor　in　pairs；　or　in　small　groups。　No　
one　seemed　to　be　doing　much　talking；　and　if　they　were；　it　certainly　wasn？t　about　books。　On　the　
room？s　other　big　couch；　Dan　counted　seven　legs　and　eight　arms。　The　half…bald　punk　girl；　Penny；　
was　getting　her　multiply　pierced　ears　worked　over　lovingly　by　that　redhead　Susanna？s　tongue　
right　in　front　of　him。　Dan　frowned。　His　elite　literary　gathering　was　turning　into　anorgy。　And　he　
could　have　sworn　someone　had　been　kissing　him　right　before　he　woke　up。　But　who？　There　
weren？t　any　girls　there　with　pletely　shaved　heads。　

？Don？t　worry；　Dan；？　murmured　Greg；　slipping　an　arm　around　his　shoulders。　？We？re　all　just　
having　a　good　time　getting　to　know　one　another。You　know；　it？s　like　we　wanted；　right？？　

　Dan　nodded。　Itwas？　

Greg　reached　out　and　cupped　Dan？s　chin　gently　with　his　hand。　？We？re　all　passionate　people；　
passionate　about　books；　passionate　about　life。？　Squeezing　Dan？s　chin　playfully；　Greg　pulled　
Dan？s　face　close　to　his　and　kissed　him；　softly；　on　the　lips。　

Dan　yanked　his　face　away。　Excuse　me？What　the　fuck？　

Greg　smiled　and　kissed　Dan　again；　this　time　letting　his　warm　tongue　slip　over　Dan？s　lips。　Dan　
was　about　to　pull　away　again；　but　his　hand　involuntarily　ran　up　the　back　of　Greg？s　neck　and　into　
his　short；　prickly　hair。　There　was　some…thing　so　totally　familiar　and　forting　about　kissing　
some…one　with　short；　spiky　hair。　

Hello？　Even　if　that　someone　is　a　dude？　


Feeling　totally　confused　and　extremely　nauseated　all　of　a　sudden；　Dan　mustered　enough　energy　
to　push　Greg　away　and　mumbled　something　about　needing　to　puke　as　he　stumbled　for　the　
bathroom。　It　was　the　absinthe　that　was　to　blame；　he　assured　himself　as　he　settled　onto　the　
white…tiled　floor　in　front　of　the　toilet。　

　For　the　kissing…someone…with…face…stubble　part；　or　the　puking　part？　

？　

Air　Mail　…　Par　Avion　…　July　11

　Hi　Dan！　

How　e　you　haven？t　been　replying　to　my　postcards？　Are　you　okay？　Has　Vanessa　painted　my　
room　black　yet？　Write　me　baaaaack！　

Love　（but　not　for　long　if　you　don？t　write　me　soon）；　

　Jenny　

s　and　b？s　sweet　revenge　

？Are　you　ready　yet？？　Serena　banged　on　the　thick；　bleached　wood　pocket　door　to　the　guest　
house？s　only　bath…room；　straining　her　voice　to　be　heard　over　the　persistent　beat　of　techno　playing　
outside；　and　of　the　noise　of　partygoers　laughing　and　yelling　to　one　another　across　the　wide；　
emerald　green　lawn。　

？Almost。？　Blair　dabbed　a　bit　of　her　current　favorite　perfume？a　lilac　concoction　from　Viktor　&　
Rolf？behind　her　earlobes；　on　her　wrists；　and；　just　in　case；　on　the　soft　space　between　her　breasts　
that　was　just　visible　in　her　low…cut；　tissue…weight　pale　yellow　cotton　Alberta　Ferretti　dress。　She　
glanced　at　herself　in　the　mirror；　imagining　what　she　might　look　like　if　someone　like；　say；　Nate；　just　
happened　to　wander　next　door　to　check　out　the　party。　With　her　tousled；　beachy　hair　and　her　long　
nearly　white　dress；　she　looked　like　a　bride　about　to　get　married　on　a　sailboat。　A　sailboat　like　
theCharlotte；　the　boat　Nate　had　built　that　very　first　summer　they　were　together。　

Which　was　the　only　sailboat　she？d　ever　really　sailed　on。　

She？d　been　thinking　about　Nate　a　lot　ever　since　they　ran　into　him　three　days　ago；　hoping　he？d　


e　visit　again。　She？d　already　heard　from　a　million　people　that　his　hot　romance　or　
whateverthefuck　he　had　with　that　townie　girl　was　long　over；　and　with　some　proper　groveling；　she　
could　forgive　him　for　his　romantic　retardation。　Yes；　he　was　a　total　fuckup　and　yes；　he？d　broken　her　
heart　a　million　times；　but　something　about　the　way　he？d　watched　her　run　off；　taking　in　her　familiar　
naked　form　like　it　was　a　painting　or　something；　had　left　her　wanting　to　see　him　again　and　again。　

Spinning　around　on　the　heels　of　her　white　alligator　Bailey　Winter　gladiator　sandals；　Blair　slid　the　
rolling　bath…room　door　open　dramatically　and　stepped　into　the　bedroom；　where　Serena　was　
pretending　to　smoke　the　fourth　cigarette　she？d　lit　since　Blair　first　disappeared　into　the　bathroom。　

Boredom　can　turn　any　nice　girl　into　a　pyromaniac。　

？Nice　choice。？　Serena　nodded　approvingly；　studying　Blair？s　outfit。　？But　we？ve　got　to　make　our　
grand　entrance　soon；　and　there？s　no　way　I？m　doing　it　without　you。？　

？You…know…who　already　outside？？　Blair　asked。　

Serena　hopped　off　the　bed　and　walked　over　to　peer　out　the　window　at　the　action　poolside。　Blair　
joined　her；　taking　in　the　dozens　of　silhouettes　and　the　bright　blue　pool　lit　up　behind　them。　She　
spied　Ibiza　and　Svetlana　in　the　distance。　？DJ　booth。？　Serena　pointed。　？Nice　shorts；？　she　added；　
pretending　to　admire　Ibiza？s　trashy；　butt…cheek…revealing　hot　pants。　

Blair　snorted；　stepping　back　inside　the　bathroom　to　dab　a　bit　of　her　Aesop　nail　cream　onto　her　
cuticles？they　seemed　a　little　dry　lately。　

Must　be　all　that　manual　labor。　

？Shit；　Blair；　e　on；　what　are　you　doing　back　in　the　bathroom？？　

？I？m　ing；　I？m　ing。？　Blair　wiped　the　excess　cream　off　her　nails　with　one　quick　swipe。　
She　dropped　the　tissue　in　the　trash　and　froze。　What。　The。　Fuck。　What　was　that　in　the　trash！？　She　
bent　over　and　picked　up　the　mother…of…pearl…encrusted　basket　and　placed　it　on　the　rose…marble　
counter…top。　？Get　in　here。？　

？You　lookfine。　？　Serena　leaned　into　the　bathroom　to　grab　Blair？s　forearm。　？Let？s　just　go。　I？m　
dying　for　a　drink。？　

？Look。？　Blair　shook　the　basket　angrily。　？Does　this　strike　you　as　at　all　suspicious？？　

Serena　glanced　at　the　baby…pink　plastic　bottle　inside　the　trash　can。　？Nair。？　She　
paused。　？Whatever。　I　mean；　I　prefer　a　waxing；　but　who　knows　what　they　do　in　Latvia　or　
wherever。？　

？There？s　something　weird　going　on。？　Blair？s　eyes　darted　all　over　the　bathroom；　looking　for　signs　


of　criminal　activity。　She　felt　like　Audrey　Hepburn　inCharade。　She　justknew　she　was　in　danger。　She　
couldsense　it。　Of　course！　It　dawned　on　her　at　last；　and　she　threw　open　the　creamy　linen　shower　
curtain；　sending　its　sleek　gold　hanging　rings　clattering。　

？What？s　going　on？？　Serena　yawned；　smoothing　the　waist　of　her　Chlo？　micropleated　cotton　
sundress。　

？I　know　they？re　up　to　something。？　Blair　grabbed　her　bottle　of　Kerastase　shampoo　from　the　shelf　
in　the　shower。　？And　I　know　it　can？t　possibly　be　anything　original。　And　I　think　we　both　know　that　
the　Nair…in…the…shampoo　thing　is　the　most　obvious　trick　in　the　world。　Remember　that　time？　At　
Isabel？s　sleepover？　When　we　were；　like；　eleven？？　

Serena　just　stared　at　her。　

？Well；I　remember。？　Blair　unscrewed　the　top　of　the　bottle。　She　didn？t　even　need　to　sniff　it　to　
realize　that　someone　had　indeed　tried　to　pull　a　switch　on　her？the　powerful　chemical　fart　stench　of　
the　depilatory　was　unmistakable。　？Bitches！？　she　swore。　？It？s　a　fucking　good　thing　I　wanted　to　
have　beach　hair。？　She　touched　her　brown　locks　worriedly　to　make　sure　they　were　still　there。　？Now　
it？s　fuckingwar。　？　

Dignified　and　determined；　Blair　and　Serena　burst　out　of　the　guest　house？s　French　doors　and　onto　
the　white　pebble　path　leading　to　the　swimming　pool。　Blair　surveyed　the　crowd；　seeing　now　that　
they　were　all　men。　Every　single　one。Whoa。　A　hundred；　maybe　a　hundred　and　fifty　people；　and　the　
only　girls　in　sight　were　her　and　Serena？and　Ibiza　and　Svetlana；　of　course。　

？My　dad　wouldtotally　love　this。？　Blair　almost　wished　that　her　fabulous　gay　dad；　Harold　Waldorf；　
and　his　much…younger　French　boyfriend；　Etienne　or　Edouard　or　whatever…thefuck　his　name　was；　
weren？t　off　living　the　good　life　in　the　south　of　France。　She　wanted　someone　besides　Serena　to　
witness　what　was　about　to　happen。　

？My　girls　are　here！？　Bailey　Winter　emerged　from　a　thicket　of　silver…haired　news…anchory　types；　
all　of　whom　seemed　to　be　wearing　blue　blazers　and　white　pants；　despite　the　fact　that　it　was　easily　
eighty　degrees。　Bailey　himself　wore　a　similar　ensemble；　but　with　three…quarter…length　sleeves　and　
pant　legs　that　left　his　neon…orange…and…hot…pink　argyle　knee　socks　and　white　nubuck　saddle　shoes　
exposed。　Skipping　up　the　path　to　Blair　and　Serena；　he　extended　one　chubby　hand　to　each　of　them；　
his　entourage　of　five　yelping　pugs　following　closely　on　his　heels。　

？e；　girls；　make　a　Bailey　sandwich。？　He　giggled。　？Hopefully　it　won？t　be　the　only　threesome　
I？m　in　tonight。？　He　grinned　and　gave　a　little　wave　to　the　shirtless　DJ。　

？Lovely　party；？　Blair　plimented　Bailey；　noticing　the　many　barely　clothed　waiters　circulating　
with　champagne　flutes。　

？Thank　you；　darling！？　Bailey　squealed。　？Step；　step；　ladies。　We　need　to　get　you　some　drinks！？　He　


dashed　off　in　the　direction　of　the　bar；　pulling　the　two　along　with　him　like　puppies　on　a　
leash。　？Bartender！？　he　barked　at　the　golden　surfer…boy　model…type　who　was　behind　the　bar。　His　
uniform；　like　those　of　the　rest　of　the　waitstaff；　consisted　of　a　low…cut　Bailey　Winter　Gar？on　
cotton…and…cashmere　vest　over　his　perfectly　defined　bare　chest。　

？What　do　my　pets　want？？　Bailey　cooed。　

？Two　Negronis。？　Blair　turned　to　scan　the　crowd；　a　blur　of　white　trousers　against　the　green　grass；　
perfect　haircuts　and　impressive　muscles　peeking　out　of　too…short　sleeves。　

Then　she　spotted　them：　Ibiza　and　Svetlana；　clad　in　white。　Copycat　bitches。　Svetlana　wore　a　tacky；　
stretchy　asymmetrical　dress　that　emphasized　her　basically　nonexistent　chest。　Ibiza　had　squeezed　
herself　into　a　backless　white　hot　pants　jumpsuit　that　looked　like　something　Blair？s　mother　might　
have　worn　to　Studio　54；　like；　thirty　years　ago。　Nasty。　

Why　not　do　something　about　it　then？　

？Here　you　are。？　The　bartender　handed　Blair　two　tumblers　filled　with　the　rich；　orange　liquid。　？I？m　
Gavin。？　

？Thank　you；　Gavin。？　Serena　batted　her　eyelashes　at　him。　？So　。　。　。　are　you　out　here　all　summer？？　
she　asked；　leaning　against　the　weathered…wood　bar。　

？Not　now；？　Blair　snapped；　grabbing　her　friend？s　arm。　

She　had　no　patience　for　Serena？s　flirting？not　when　they　had　a　job　to　do。　

？Sorry。？　Serena　took　a　small　sip　of　the　bittersweet　cock…tail。　？I　was　just　having　a　little　fun。　He？s　
probably　the　only　nongay　guy　here。？　

？Bailey；　I？d　like　to　get　a　closer　look　at　the　DJ　booth；？　Blair　announced。　

？Oh；　honey；　you　read　mymind。　？　Bailey　guided　the　two　by　their　elbows　around　the　perimeter　of　
the　pool　toward　the　pink…trimmed　white　cabana　that　had　been　erected　for　the　occasion。　？He？s　
positively　scrumptious；　don？t　you　think？　Oh；　shoo；　girls。？　He　waved　away　Ibiza　and　Svetlana；　
who　were　pawing　through　the　milk　crates　packed　with　records。　？He？s　gotwork　to　do！？　

？Ve？re　helping　him；？　Ibiza　protested；　pouting　and　sipping　at　her　chardonnay。　

？Sure　you　are。？　Bailey　winked　sarcastically　at　Blair。　

？Why　don？t　we　all　go　over　there　and　chat？？　Blair　pointed　at　an　all…white　seating　area　next　to　the　
pool。　


？Yes；　yes；　you　girls　go　sit？I　mean；　I　had　those　cushions　specially　made　just　for　this　party。　That　is　
the　most　divine　bleached　Italian　silk。　Very　rare。　Very　special。　So　lounge；　e　on；　look　pretty。　Go　
on；　run　along。？　Bailey　raised　his　tiny　Tiffany　champagne　flute　in　salute。　？I？ll　stay　here　and　keep　an　
eye　on　our　music　man；　don？t　you　worry！？　

Ibiza　and　Svetlana　arranged　themselves　on　the　over…stuffed；　raw…silk　pillows　stationed　poolside。　
Blair　and　Serena　stood　above　them；　grimacing。　

？He？s　a　gay；　you　do　know？？　Ibiza　sipped　her　wine　and　stared　coldly　at　Blair。　

Blair　looked　down　at　her。　It　was　almost　like　looking　in　a　particularly　fucked…up　trick　mirror　at　a　
carnival。　？Yes；　I？m　aware；　thanks。？　

？I　just　thought；　you　know；　you