Just then, Jenny felt a tap on her shoulder.
“Jennifer?” She whirled around and found Eleanor Waldorf frowning at her in annoyance. For a second, she felt like an awkward ninth grader, caught by Mrs. McLean for gossiping in the hallway when she was supposed to be in class. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to move you over to the other end of the table. There’s a bit more space for you down there,” Eleanor said. Even after three years in LA, which had a looser social code than New York, it was clear Eleanor Waldorf was uncomfortable with public displays of affection at the table.
Can you blame her?
Jenny meekly slid off Nate’s lap and followed Eleanor to a seat next to a shaggy-haired guy about her age. She glanced down the length of the table, where Nate was staring into his glass of wine, looking lonely. She sighed unhappily. Now they were separated.
Calm down, Juliet. It’s just dinner.
“Hey. You’re Jenny, right?” the boy next to her asked.
Jenny nodded, even though she had no idea who he was.
“Didn’t you go to some boarding school?” he continued, brushing his shaggy bangs out of his large brown eyes.
“Yeah, I went to Waverly, but now I’m at RISD,” Jenny said distractedly, watching Nate awkwardly make conversation across the table with Blair’s chubby, red-faced stepfather.
“I’m Tyler,” he told her. “Blair’s brother.”
“Nice to meet you.” Jenny nodded. “Are you in school?” she asked to be polite.
“Nah.” He shook his head. “I graduated a year early back in LA. I’m just DJ’ing around town for the next couple of months.” He shrugged.
“Oh,” Jenny murmured. She was dimly aware that before meeting Nate, she would have been ridiculously attracted to Tyler. Delaying college to DJ sounded so cool and downtown. But at the end of the table was Nate scraping his chair back and heading toward her. Her heart skipped a beat. The only good thing about being separated, even if it was only for five minutes, was how amazing it felt when they saw each other again.
“You holding up, Meow?” Nate asked sweetly before turning to Tyler. “How are you, man?” he asked, clapping him on the back.
Jenny smiled up at Nate. “Meow!” she purred goofily, not caring who heard her. After all, they were in love. People as in love as they were spoke a language all their own. So what if no one else could understand.
M-ew, m-ew.
great minds think alike
Blair poked at the gelatinous duck confit on her plate. She couldn’t wait until Chuck got back to New York tomorrow. It was torture being at her mom’s dinner party without a date—especially now that she had to witness Nate and Jenny together. Not like she was jealous, it was just… nauseating.
“Meow?” Blair felt someone’s breath tickle her ear. She turned to see Serena, her fingers curved toward Blair like claws.
“Hey, Meow Meow,” Blair reciprocated, giggling. At least she had someone else to talk to besides Dick Cashman, the cowboy hat–wearing associate of her stepfather’s seated on her right. Blair watched as Nate, hovering over Jenny, took a forkful of asparagus from her plate and popped it in her mouth, making little choo-choo noises as if she were a baby. “Are they for real?” Blair shook her head in disbelief.
Serena wrinkled her nose. “What would you do if Chuck started feeding you in public?”
“Stab him with a fork?” Blair guessed. She was all for being pampered by her boyfriend, but that meant him opening doors or massaging her shoulders, not treating her like an infant or demented prisoner who couldn’t be trusted with utensils.
Serena giggled as Nate fed Jenny another bite. “Well, she’s young.”
“She’s not that young,” Blair scoffed. After all, Jenny Humphrey was a freshman in college. When Blair had been a freshman, she’d practically turned down a marriage proposal.
“Well, whatever, she has time,” Serena said loyally, draining her glass of wine. She put her knife and fork to the side of her plate. It was nice that she and Blair were talking like normal people. In fact, it was just nice to be talking to someone who wasn’t Dan. Every Thursday after her Madness and Literature class, she’d take the train into the city and she and Dan would stay holed up in his tiny bedroom until Sunday evening, venturing out only to Lincoln Plaza to see a movie or to the diner on the corner for breakfast. She loved Dan and loved spending time with him, but she sometimes felt they were missing out on something.
Um, like, life?
“Actually, it is kind of weird,” Serena decided, watching the way Jenny was gazing adoringly up at Nate. She wasn’t annoyed to see Nate with Jenny—in a weird way, it made sense. But she did care that Jenny was getting so caught up with playing house when she still had all of college in front of her, and that Nate didn’t seem interested in anything besides taking care of Jenny.
Blair gazed at her little brother, Tyler, across the room. He was sixteen, and had grown up from being a weirdo little Cameron Crowe–obsessed kid to kind of a cool guy. A smile played on her lips.
“What are you thinking?” Serena nervously chewed her bottom lip. With Blair, you never knew.
Behind them, the servers cleared their plates away, making room for the dessert course. “Tyler doesn’t have a girlfriend,” Blair began.
Tyler was cute. He was skinny, with shaggy hair, and looked like the downtown DJ he was, Serena thought. And he was a really good kid.
“I’ll have Tyler e-mail her and invite her to one of his events,” Blair announced. “He needs a girlfriend. He sometimes turns his dirty socks inside out and then wears them, because he thinks that means they’re clean.”
Serena burst into laughter. “Dan used to do that, too!” she squealed.
Dick Cashman peered over at the two girls. “Can you little ladies let me in on the joke? Sounds like a good one!”
“Meow meow,” Blair responded, choking on her wine.
Serena spat her wine onto her plate. It was exactly like those times when they used to ride the Madison Avenue bus, speaking to each other in fake foreign languages and annoying everyone on the bus.
“We have to be excused,” she gasped between snorts, dragging Blair out onto the terrace.
“Oh my God, I haven’t had this much fun in months!” Serena yelled. She tried to remember why she’d been so angry at Blair last year. Why had Nate been so important to both of them? Why had they dropped the most important relationship of their lives: them?
“To us!” Blair said, holding out her wine glass, as if reading Serena’s mind. The two girls clinked glasses in the crisp night air.
We’ll see how long this peace treaty lasts….
good things come in small packages
Vanessa pulled on her leather bomber jacket, bracing herself to leave the house. The idea of staying in was incredibly tempting, especially since she had the Humphreys’ apartment all to herself: Dan was at some fancy Welcome to Iowa reception at the Metropolitan Club, Jenny was out with her boyfriend, and Rufus was celebrating an early Christmas with his anarchist group at the KGB Bar downtown.
Although she’d been living in the Humphrey apartment for almost a year, she rarely spent the night, especially on the weekends when Dan and Serena were cozied up in his bedroom. Instead, she’d crash with film school friends in their overcrowded Crown Heights or Greenpoint apartments, or offer babysitting for Moxie in exchange for couch space at Ruby and Piotr’s apartment in Prospect Heights.
Vanessa grabbed her purse from the couch and headed for the door. She was going to see Hollis’s film, Rowing to Reykjavík. She and Hollis hadn’t really talked since last year, although they’d seen each other at parties and always said hello. She felt like she owed it to him—and to herself—to at least see the movie. She was curious to see how the story, which had started out as her life story and quickly became the furthest thing from it, would end.
She flung open the apartment door and came face-to-face with a man wearing a brown uniform, an envelope in his hand. “
Looking for a Vanessa Abrams? You’re my last delivery. Glad you’re here,” he said. Vanessa nodded in confusion.
“Here you go.” He thrust a thin envelope at her. Vanessa took it with trembling hands. Suddenly, she realized exactly what she was holding. Back in November, she’d applied for a two-year film fellowship in Indonesia. She hadn’t realized they’d be mailing decisions so soon.
“Thanks.” She wasn’t sure if she should open it right away or wait. But what was she waiting for? And would they really UPS a rejection?
“Can you sign?” the deliveryman asked impatiently, oblivious to Vanessa’s internal turmoil.
“Oh, sure.” Vanessa hastily scrawled a signature and yanked the envelope open.
“Happy holidays,” the delivery guy said as he turned away. But Vanessa wasn’t listening. She pulled a packet of papers from the envelope. A single sheet fell out and fluttered to the hardwood floor. Vanessa grabbed it, noting the purple Filmmakers for Change crest at the top of the page and read the first sentence: Dear Ms. Abrams, We are pleased to offer you a Filmmaker for Change grant for your proposed project in Indonesia.…
The rest of the sentences swam together on the page as Vanessa shrieked in excitement. A Filmmaker for Change grant was notoriously hard to get, which was why she’d practically forgotten about sending in the application. She hadn’t wanted to get her hopes up. But now, her future spread out before her like a promising sunrise. Instead of drifting from one production assistant job to another, she was going to be working on her own project in the place where film originated. Which was way better than Iceland.
“Yes!” she yelled, her voice echoing down the stairwell. She was so busy jumping up and down on the landing in glee, she didn’t even notice the sound of footsteps on the stairs.
“Are you working out or something?” Dan asked nervously as he reached the landing. Although he and Vanessa were perfectly cordial toward each other, being roommates had its awkward moments, like the one time last spring Vanessa had burst into Dan’s bedroom to look for her old camera equipment, only to find Serena and Dan entwined on his bed.
Vanessa spontaneously threw her arms around Dan’s skinny waist. “I got the fellowship! I’m going to Indonesia! I’m a fucking filmmaker for change!” she screamed into his ear, her voice echoing in the stairwell. She felt Dan’s body stiffen and she immediately let go. “Sorry,” she said sheepishly.
“No, congratulations!” Dan said, a smile crawling across his face. “I’ve never seen you jump up and down like this. What is it for?”
“Oh my God, I’m freaking out!” Vanessa exhaled and tried to compose herself. She gripped the iron railing for support. In her excitement, she’d forgotten that Dan would have no clue what she was talking about. She hadn’t told anyone she’d applied. And she and Dan hadn’t really talked much in the last year.
“I need some fresh air! Come outside with me?” Vanessa asked, practically running down the winding staircase. She threw open the front door and took big gulps of cold air. “Woo-hoo!” she yelled into the night sky.
“Wait, so you’re going to Indonesia?” Dan asked, slightly out of breath from running after her.
“Yeah! I applied for a grant to make my own film in Indonesia. It’s where film was born.”
“Wow,” Dan said, impressed. “That’s fucking huge! Congrats.”
“Thanks.” Vanessa smiled shyly. “I can’t believe I’m going to be moving to Indonesia in less than six months.”
Dan believed it though. Vanessa was so smart and motivated. It was really nice to see her get something she obviously wanted so badly.
“Let’s go somewhere to celebrate,” Dan decided. Vanessa deserved it.
Vanessa smiled giddily. For a second, she imagined what Hollis would say if he heard about the grant, but then she pushed the thought out of her mind. She didn’t need him anymore. “Can we go to that hummus place? I’m starving!”
“Sure.” Dan turned on his heel, heading toward the hole-in-the-wall on the corner that had a different name every month. He loved that Vanessa considered hummus celebratory. “I’m hungry too. They just had those teeny-tiny chicken skewers and pigs in a blanket at the Iowa thing.”
Vanessa wrinkled her nose. “Besides that, how was it?” She asked as she fell into step with Dan. She’d forgotten he wouldn’t be in New York next year, either.
“It was amazing,” he told her eagerly. “A couple of the professors were there, and it’s really intense. These are all guys who’ve won Pushcarts and been short-listed for the National Book Award.” He shrugged and opened the door. The restaurant was empty except for one lone employee behind the counter. “I just can’t wait to really work with them, you know? Just immerse myself in writing,” he said as he sat at one of the rickety tables in the corner.
“I’ll order. I know what you always get.” Vanessa headed to the counter and returned with a tray laden with pita bread and bowls of hummus, and falafel balls. Dan took a bite of falafel, then passed the rest to Vanessa. Vanessa smiled. They always used to share food.
“Sorry,” Dan pulled his hand back, as if he saw Vanessa’s hesitation as rejection.
“No, I want it,” she said, accepting the half-eaten falafel.
“So, are you really ready to leave New York?” Dan asked. It was weird to think about Vanessa leaving. Even though he hadn’t really spent any time with her in the past year, it had been comforting to see her camera on the counter, her army green messenger bag by the door, her boxes of Sleepytime tea in the cabinets.
“I won’t know until I’m gone,” Vanessa replied. “How ’bout you?”
Dan shrugged his reply. A comfortable silence fell between them as they ate. They were always able to talk, or not talk. Sometimes Serena would assume that he was angry if he didn’t say something all the time.
It was nice, just sitting at a hole-in-the-wall restaurant on Broadway, splitting a late-night snack. It reminded him of a time when everything was easy and safe. He randomly thought of a Proust quote he’d read in one of his lit classes: The true paradises are ones we have lost.
Does that mean there’s trouble in his current paradise?
time to party…
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: party
Hey Jenny,
It was cool to meet you at my mom’s place last night. Wanted to let you know that I’m spinning at the Plastic Party People Party on Saturday. It’s at Filter, on Fourteenth and Tenth, starting at midnight. Bring friends, you’re on the list.
—Ty
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: party
Dear Tyler,
It was great meeting you too! Your party sounds like a ton of fun, but my boyfriend already got us tickets to see The Nutcracker that night. Break a leg or a disc or whatever the DJ term for good luck is!
—Jenny
the best presents are surprises
“Thanks, Mom,” Serena said as she pulled a pair of strappy silver and blue Jimmy Choos from out of a brightly wrapped box. It was ten o’clock on Christmas morning, and the family had already had a formal Christmas breakfast in the dining room. She tried to conceal a yawn. She hadn’t slept at all last night.
“I thought that color would look great with your eyes. And I’m sure you’ll have so many events to go to next year.” Lily van der Woodsen looked fondly at her daughter from a club chair in the corner of the living room. Now that Serena and Erik were grown up, they no longer opened presents at dawn beside the towering tree in the living room. Instead, they opened a few small expensive trinkets, after breakfast.
Serena took a swig of coffee. In truth, she probably wouldn’t have any events to go to next year in Iowa. Except maybe poetry readings.
Last night, after her parents had gone to bed, she, Erik, and his fiancée, Fiona, had had a long conversation about long-distance love while drinking homemade cockta
ils from her parents’ extensive liquor cabinet. Fiona was a six-foot-tall blond Australian surfer whom Erik met on a beach in Melbourne during his junior year abroad. She was clearly head over heels for Erik, she was funny as hell, and Serena was glad they were going to be sisters so soon. After a few drinks, Serena had worked up the courage to ask them if they thought long-distance could ever really work. Ever since Dan had found out he was going to Iowa, she’d been nervous about how they’d deal with the separation. Of course, that was when she still thought she had a few years of college left. But now that she was graduating, she could do anything she wanted. And all she could think to do was follow Dan, even though they’d never officially talked about it.
What Fiona had said when it came to her and Erik’s relationship sealed the decision for Serena. “I told him I’d follow him wherever he went,” Fiona had said proudly, without apology. “And if he was with another girl when he got there, I’d cut his balls off.”
“Who could say no to that?” Erik had teased, kissing her.
That was all the reassurance Serena needed. If Dan was going to Iowa, then so would she. She’d even found a place for them. The house was a fantastic two-bedroom bungalow designed by Frank Lloyd Wright, next to a river and surrounded by trees. The grainy picture on the website made it almost look like a sailboat with all these wonderful built-in cabinets and furniture. It was forty-five minutes away from Iowa City, but that wasn’t too bad. Besides, they’d both have cars, and after living in the middle of the biggest city in the world for their whole lives, Serena couldn’t think of anything more romantic than settling down with her boyfriend so far away from the rest of humanity. After all, all they needed was each other.
No Barneys, no Elizabeth Arden, no City Bakery cookies… Is she crazy?
According to the Web site, the house was available for rent, but Serena wanted to work out all the details before she told Dan. She was fine waiting a day to tell him in person, even if it did feel like torture right now.
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