“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