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；