520美书楼

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第18部分（第1页）

gently　brushed　it　away　with　his　index　finger　before　he　realized　he　should　have　saved　it。　When　they　were　little；　Serena　had　taught　him　to　make　a　wish　on　an　eyelash　and　then　blow　it　away。

“Did　you　steal　my　wish？”　Serena　asked；　tilting　her　face　up　toward　him。

“I　hope　not；”　Nate　whispered　huskily　as　he　leaned　down　to　kiss　her。

Wish　granted。

for　auld　lang　syne

“Are　you　ready？”　Blair　fidgeted　with　the　clasp　on　her　Prada　clutch　while　Pete　sipped　his　cappuccino。　It　was　already　eleven　o’clock。　They　were　at　Da　Silvano　on　West　Fourth　for　a　romantic　New　Year’s　dinner　before　they　headed　to　the　party　in　the　Bass　suite。　She　couldn’t　wait　to　show　off　Pete　to　all　her　bitchy　former　Constance　classmates—including　Serena。　Blair　figured　she’d　be　there　and　planned　to　act　cordial。　After　all；　it　must　be　hard　to　be　a　boyfriendless；　confused；　washed…up　ex–movie　star　at　the　tender　age　of　nineteen。

How　generous　of　her。

Blair　wore　a　tight　black　and　silver　DVF　dress；　and　Pete’s　blond　hair　flopped　adorably　into　his　blue　eyes。　In　his　bright　blue　Thomas　Pink　button…down；　he　made　the　perfect　accessory。

She　smiled　in　satisfaction；　trying　to　stifle　a　yawn。　She　didn’t　want　to　be　tired；　but　it　had　been　a　long　day。　They’d　spent　Christmas　in　LA　with　her　family；　and　had　just　gotten　to　the　city　this　afternoon。　Pete　had　always　wanted　to　celebrate　New　Year’s　in　New　York；　and　Blair　was　excited　to　show　him　where　she　grew　up；　especially　after　spending　a　week　in　her　family’s　tacky　Pacific　Palisades　McMansion。　She　couldn’t　wait　to　reexperience　all　the　cheesy　romantic　things　New　York　had　to　offer　with　her　boyfriend。　She　wanted　to　go　skating　at　Wollman　Rink；　take　a　horse…drawn　carriage　ride　through　Central　Park　while　sipping　mulled　wine　out　of　a　thermos；　and　have　drinks　at　Top　of　the　Rock。　Even　though　Blair　hated　cheesiness；　she　didn’t　mind　it　when　she　was　with　Pete。

Aw。

“Ready。”　Pete　put　down　his　cup　and　signaled　to　the　waiter　for　the　check。　“So；　remind　me　who　I’m　going　to　meet　tonight？”　He　took　his　AmEx　from　his　worn　leather　wallet　and　slipped　it　in　the　folder。

“Well；　Chuck　is　hosting　the　party。　He’s…　plicated；”　Blair　began。　plicated　was　an　understatement。　Senior　year；　Chuck　had　practically　molested　every　member　of　the　Constance　Billard　student　body；　then　had　bee　what　could　only　be　described　as　gay；　wearing　socks　with　monkey　appliqués　on　them。　Now　he　went　to　Deep　Springs；　some　queer…sounding　all…guys　college　in　California。　Deep　Springs　was　a　working　farm　where　students　cultivated　alfalfa　and　read　Proust。　Which　was　all　random；　but　sort　of　fit　Chuck’s　try…anything…once　personality。　The　most　bizarre　thing　was　that　Nate　was　apparently　there　as　well。　When　he’d　run　out　on　her　and　Serena　last　winter；　Blair　had　half　expected　him　to　e　to　Yale　anyway。　But　when　the　first　week　of　classes　came　and　went　without　him；　and　when　she　called　his　cell　and　found　it　was　disconnected；　she’d　known　he　was　gone　for　good。　Which　was　probably　for　the　best。

A　few　weeks　after　the　start　of　the　semester；　on　a　snowy　Wednesday；　she’d　spotted　Pete　walking　into　the　student　center。　She’d　spontaneously　gone　to　the　coffee　bar；　bought　a　medium　coffee；　skim　milk；　no　sugar；　walked　up　to　the　table　where　he　was　reading　The　Love　Poems　of　Pablo　Neruda；　and　offered　it　to　him。　It　was　a　gesture　that　surprised　him—almost　as　much　as　she　surprised　herself。　They’d　ended　up　cutting　their　afternoon　classes；　cuddling　underneath　his　duvet；　and　ordering　a　greasy　pizza　from　Yorkside。　And　ever　since　then；　it　had　been　her　and　Pete。　They’d　lived　in　New　Haven　together　over　the　summer—Blair　had　worked　on　the　campaign　for　a　Connecticut　senator　while　Pete　did　research　for　his　history　professor。　At　night；　they’d　wear　as　little　clothing　as　possible　to　keep　cool　in　the　un…air…conditioned　house。　She’d　make　brunch　every　weekend　and　they’d　spend　Sundays　in　bed　reading　the　Times。　Being　with　Pete　made　her　feel　like　a　grown…up。　Pete　was　a　real　man；　and　Nate　was　just　a　sad　little　adolescent　who　had　no　idea　what　he　wanted。

Is　that　so？

“Well；　it’s　Chuck’s　party；　and　then　there’ll　probably　be　Kati　Farkas　and　Isabel　Coates　and　Laura　Salmon。　Just　these　girls　from　school；”　Blair　said　hurriedly；　trying　to　get　the　conversation　back　on　track。

“What　about　Serena？”　Pete　cocked　his　head　expectantly。　Blair　shrugged。　Normally；　she　loved　how　Pete　remembered　every　little　thing　she’d　told　him—like　how　the　only　Audrey　Hepburn　movie　she　didn’t　like　was　Wait　Until　Dark　and　how　she’d　accidentally　kissed　her　first　Yale　interviewer。　But　he　didn’t　know　how　plicated　her　best　friendship　with　Serena　was；　and　Blair　wanted　to　keep　it　that　way。

Wonder　why？

“I　don’t　know。”　Blair　shrugged　and　scraped　her　chair　away　from　the　table。　They’d　barely　spoken　at　all　since　last　winter。　Serena　had　sent　her　tickets　to　the　premiere　of　Coffee　at　the　Palace；　but　of　course　Blair　hadn’t　gone。

She　hovered　over　Pete　as　he　signed　his　messy　boy　signature　on　the　check。　Briefly；　she　wondered　if　Nate　could　possibly　be　at　the　party；　then　shook　off　the　idea。　Once；　in　high　school；　when　she　and　Serena　were　smoking　Merits　on　the　steps　of　the　Met；　they　came　up　with　the　theory　that　you　had　an　almost　psychic　connection　to　anyone　you’d　ever　kissed。　If　you　really　concentrated；　you　could　almost　sense　where　they　were　in　geographic　relation　to　you。　And　right　now；　Nate　felt　very　far　away。

Time　to　rethink　that　hypothesis。

Besides；　why　did　it　matter？　She　was　happy。　Sure；　she　didn’t　go　out　all　night　and　dance　until　dawn；　but　there　was　something　to　be　said　for　the　simple　life：　arguing　with　Pete　about　what　movies　to　put　on　their　Netflix　queue　or　whether　to　order　Chinese　or　sushi　on　a　Friday　night。　It　all　seemed　so…　normal。

If　you’re　into　that　sort　of　thing。

They　exited　the　restaurant　and　walked　out　to　the　curb。　Pete　tentatively　held　up　his　hand　to　hail　a　cab。

“Not　like　that；　like　this！”　Blair　stepped　forcefully　out　onto　the　street　and　threw　her　hand　in　the　air。　“You　have　to　be　aggressive。　Rule　number　one　of　living　in　New　York！”　Blair　smiled　happily。　She　looked　uptown　and　saw　the　Empire　State　Building；　still　decorated　in　red；　green；　and　white　lights　for　Christmas。　Around　them；　pedestrians　were　traveling　in　merry　packs；　wearing　Happy　New　Year　headbands　and　blowing　those　totally　annoying　noisemakers；　even　though　there　was　still　an　hour　to　go　until　the　ball　dropped。　“Happy　New　Year！”　She　squeezed　Pete　impulsively　as　a　taxi　roared　to　the　curb。

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