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Blair narrowed her eyes at a painting that hung over the fireplace; of a ship in what looked like an exceptionally violent storm。 What a boring; random piece of art to hang in a house。 Suddenly she hated her stupid nickname。 Scout?

Out would have been more appropriate。

“Blair; I’m sorry;” Pete said simply。 “I thought you understood…。”

“What? I knew I wasn’t ing;” Blair lied; smiling fakely。 Her stomach was churning wildly。 For a brief second; she wanted to excuse herself; run to the second…floor bathroom; and puke everything she’d eaten for the past five days。

“Blair; darling; here’s your hot chocolate。 I made sure to put some extra marshmallows in there。” Jane pushed the steaming ceramic mug into Blair’s hands。 “Won’t you sit down?” She gestured to one of the fortable overstuffed forest green chairs。

“Thanks。” Blair nodded。 She squared her shoulders and turned to the waiting Carlson clan。 No way was she going to let the Brady Bunch see her sweat。 “You all ready to play?” She forced herself to smile; a plan already forming。

“Maybe I will have a wild girls’ weekend;” she whispered in Pete’s ear。 “I haven’t been to New York all year; except those two weekends with you; and those don’t count; since we never even left the hotel。” His face fell as he no doubt pictured all the raucous fun she’d be having without him。 Blair raised an eyebrow challengingly。 After all; she was a woman。 A Yale woman。 She had places to go。

And more important games to play。

make new friends; but keep the old…

“This came from the man at the other end of the bar;” the skinny bartender…slash…model wearing a cheesy Ed Hardy T…shirt said as he proffered a glass of Veuve Clicquot。

“Thanks。” Serena van der Woodsen glanced down the long; dark oak bar of Saucebox; the new lounge in the just…opened T Hotel on Thompson Street。 Breckin O’Dell; a handsome but boring actor she vaguely remembered meeting a few times; held up his own glass of champagne and saluted her。 Serena nodded; brought the flute to her lips; and took a healthy sip; even though she preferred vodka。

“Oh my God; you should totally date him。 His agent has ridiculous connections。” Amanda Atkins yanked on the sleeve of Serena’s black Row scoop…neck jersey dress in excitement。 “Can we get some shots down here?” she called to the bartender。 Serena smiled sheepishly。 Amanda was an eighteen…year…old recent LA transplant best known for her role in a dorky sit about a fashionista girl from Paris who moves to a farm in Tennessee to live with her redneck uncle Hank。 Recently; though; she’d been cast in an indie film about snowboarders who dropped acid; and was trying to break free from her good…girl reputation。

Another shot and she’s almost there。

“Maybe;” Serena responded unconvincingly to Amanda’s ment about Breckin。 She stared at the clear bubbles fizzing to the top of her glass as if they held the secrets to the universe。 If she looked around her; she’d see tons of Breckin O’Dell look…alikes with gel in their hair and fitted pressed shirts from Thomas Pink。 They buzzed around Serena; Amanda; and her other two actress friends; Alysia and Alison。 They called themselves the three A’s; even though Alysia’s real name was actually Jennifer。

The three A’s were admittedly a little too into material things; but they were also goofy and fun and never turned down a party。 Usually Serena had a blast hanging out with them; but tonight; she felt a little… off。 It was two days after Christmas and her parents had just left for their villa in St。 Barts; while her brother; Erik; was already back in Melbourne; Australia; where he was spending his sophomore year abroad。 It wasn’t like Serena wanted to spend New Year’s Eve with her family; but she also didn’t like waking up in their huge Fifth Avenue apartment alone。 She downed her champagne in one gulp; telling herself that she just needed to have fun。

After all; she is the expert。

“Hey; you’re that farm chick!” one spiky…haired brunet guy stuttered; not looking Amanda in the eye。 He wore a pink and white striped button…down and his teeth were Chiclet white。

“Yes。” Amanda sighed。 “I am。 But I have to stand over here now。” She took two steps away as Alysia and Alison snorted in laughter。 Serena offered the guy a sympathetic smile。 Even though she was beautiful; she was never mean。

An infuriating bination。

“God; you’d think Knowledge would know to not to let guys like that in。 Did you see his hair? It was; like; sprayed on。” Amanda flipped her long blond extensions over her shoulder as she named the beefy bouncer whose job was to keep Saucebox as exclusive as possible; even though; to Serena; it felt exactly the same as every other bar she’d been to recently。

“Serena?”

Serena whirled around; ready to have another one of those so what are you working on now? conversations with someone in the industry she’d probably met once。 Instead; she saw a familiar; smiling face that immediately took her back in time; and eighty blocks north。

“Oh my God; Iz!” Serena squealed excitedly。 She slid off the smooth oak bar stool and threw her arms around Isabel Coates; a fellow Constance Billard alum who’d gone to Rollins College down in Florida。 Her skin was deeply tanned and her thick dark shoulder…length hair had been straightened。 Her chest looked suspiciously larger than it did the last time Serena saw her。 Sh

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