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best of shape。” Dan said flatly; hating the truth of the statement。
They all peered out at the swirling snow。 “Damn; dude;” Nate swore sympathetically。 Dan just glared at him in the rearview mirror。 Helpful。 Really helpful。
“We could stay at a hotel!” Jenny offered happily。 She loved hotels。 They could get two rooms: one for Dan and Serena and one for her and Nate。
“I have an idea…” Serena offered。 “Blair’s Newport house isn’t far from here。 It’s empty。 Her mom’s in California and her dad’s in France。 And I still remember the security code。”
Dan shook his head。 That was the thing about Serena。 Everything always worked out for her; so it never occurred to her that breaking into someone’s house could be a bad idea。 “I don’t think—” he began。
“Perfect;” Nate enthused。 “Man; I used to love that house。 Remember how we always used to play croquet on the lawn and talk in British accents?”
“Oh my God; yes! And Blair would always get so petitive?” Serena rolled her eyes。 “I’m going to drive。 I know where it is;” she announced; already unbuckling her seat belt and climbing up front。
Wordlessly; Dan slid out of the driver’s seat and walked through the falling snow to the passenger door。
Buckle up! The road ahead sounds seriously bumpy。
the more the merrier
“More wine; Blair…Bear? After all; you’ve been legal in England for months!” Harold Waldorf held up a bottle of his vineyard’s C?tes du Rhone。 Blair sighed in contentment。 It was the perfect winter break: no drama; no one protesting her movie choices; and plenty of cozy time with her family and her fabulous boyfriend。
And who might that be?
“Thanks; Daddy;” she cooed; holding out her glass。 Harold wore a red cashmere sweater and tight jeans that; really; no man should ever wear; but he looked surprisingly good。 It was hard to remember a time when her dad was a straitlaced partner of a Park Avenue law firm and not a French vineyard–owning gay man with a partner named Giles and adopted twins from Cambodia named Pierre and Pauline。 As infants the twins had been named Ping and Pong; because of their cute round hairless heads; but as soon as Harold and Giles began applying to nursery school programs; they realized their son and daughter might be teased。
You think?
“‘For auld lang syne’…” Harold warbled as he stepped between the pieces of the elaborate train set the twins had gotten for Christmas spread out on the floor。 In the corner; Giles was having a tea party with the twins。
Blair contemplatively swirled the wine in her glass。 It was nice to be in Newport; where she’d spent so many of her childhood holidays。 Christmas had been perfect: They’d spent the morning opening presents underneath the gigantic Douglas fir; then taken turns helping Pauline and Pierre build their train set。 She’d gotten a pair of limited edition Chanel booties from her father; and she’d spent the afternoon curled up by the fire reading and drinking wine。 There’d been no unexpected surprises; and she liked it that way。
She was even looking forward to a quiet New Year’s。 No drama; no hangovers; and the only brushes with the past would be in the form of pleasant memories。 The house smelled like oranges and cinnamon; and if she closed her eyes she could imagine herself as a teenager; annoyed to leave New York—and Serena and Nate—for boring; lonely Newport。
“It’s good to have you back; Bear;” Harold told her。
It felt like she’d been gone forever。 Blair was spending her junior year at St。 Peter’s College in Oxford。 She’d pictured herself living in one of the Gothic buildings near campus; surrounded by posh classmates who kept flats in Sloane Square; attending thought…provoking lectures given by aged professors who drank scotch throughout their insightful monologues。 But as had so often happened in Blair’s life; things hadn’t quite turned out as she planned。 She’d been assigned to live in the basement of a dorm; where her hall mates were shrill girls from Mount Holyoke。 Blair hated the weather; hated the snooty Oxford students who considered her a second…class citizen because she was American; and hated the fact that most of the pubs in Oxford closed at 11 p。m。
It was almost like fate intervening one cold and rainy afternoon in mid…October。 She’d been riding a bike to the library; the idea of which she’d thought seemed cute and quaint。 What she hadn’t anticipated was how difficult it was to bike on cobblestone。 She wound up falling in the center of town。 She was sitting there miserably; soaked from the rain; knees skinned; when like a knight in shining armor; he appeared; just as he always had; she’d just never noticed him before…。
“These cookies are just delicious; Harold。” Chuck Bass ambled in from the kitchen; nibbling on one of the snowman…shaped sugar cookies Harold had baked with the twins。 He eased down onto the sofa next to Blair。
Blair smiled and squeezed Chuck’s hand。 It was Chuck who had rescued her that day; except instead of shining armor he wore Thomas Pink; and instead of a knight; he was an Oxford University scholar。 He’d transferred there after pleting two years at Deep Springs; and ever since their paths crossed that fateful day; they’d been practically inseparable。
“I’ll give you the recipe;” Harold offered; smiling at the pliment。 “As if you can really cook in those horrible dorms Blair’s plained to me about。 Many times;” he added with a teasing wink at his daughter。
Blair rolled her eyes。 “I was thinking about moving to a flat in town when we get back。 We could probably find something on College Street。” Right now; Chuck lived with a bunch of his rowing buddies in a house on the mortifyingly named Titmarsh Lane。 It would be nice to have a little more privacy; and a bigger bed。
And a better mailing address?
“If that’s okay with you; Daddy;” Blair added。
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