The minute his lips had touched hers
and their clothes had fallen away, Serena knew she’d been right all along—she
really loved him. She felt like she was going to burst with it, and had been
holding the words in for so long that all she wanted to do now was repeat them
over and over again.
“Serena?” Nate asked, rolling on his
side and propping his head up on one hand.
“Yes, Natie?” She rolled him back over
and placed her head on his chest, snuggling under his armpit. She loved the
sound of her name when he said it.
“I have something to tell you.” He
traced his fingertips along her bare shoulders. It felt electric.
Serena sat up, pulling the sheet with
her to cover her smooth skin, her blond hair falling over her bare back.
“What?” She whispered, trying to stay calm.
“I didn’t get my diploma,” he said
quietly. He grabbed her kilted teddy bear from the corner of her all-white
canopy bed and hugged it. “I’m not going to Yale next year—I’m going to have to
stay here in New York and repeat senior year.” Serena opened her eyes wide with
surprise. Not going to Yale? Did Blair know? She looked at her teddy, as if he
might convey some answers, and pulled the covers up higher around her torso,
shrugging off the thought of Blair, because with it would come guilt, masses and
masses of guilt.
“I wish I could just take off.” Nate
pulled a faded green T-shirt over his head, his voice muffled inside the soft
cotton. “Just sail away and never come back.” His head popped through the
cloth, and he pulled the material over his tanned chest.
He ran his hands through his hair and
flopped back down next to her. Her eyes were so brilliantly, deeply blue that
it was hard for him to imagine ever looking anywhere else. He looked at her
tanned, lightly freckled face, and he knew that he’d never forget the way she
looked right now—her cheeks flushed pink, her long body wrapped up in white
sheets—as long as he lived.
If Blair finds out, that might not be
for long.
“What are you going to do?” Serena
asked, pushing her hair from her face.
“Stay here, I guess,” Nate answered
dejectedly. “It’s not like I’ve got much of a choice.” Serena stroked his hand,
wishing she could kiss him and make this all better. The late-afternoon
sunlight filtered in through the open windows, and she looked out at the wide
blue sky outside. She could hear the faint sounds of the city below, the buses
rumbling by with the posters of her face on their sides. Suddenly her pulse
began to race. “You know . . . I’m not so sure about going to Yale either,” she
said quietly.
“What?” Nate demanded, his green eyes
glittering. “Why?” “Well, I keep trying to picture it . . . but I just can’t.”
She had been about to say, whenever Blair talks about it, but then she stopped
herself. “And then at that press conference yesterday, the director announced
that he’s filming the sequel to Breakfast at Fred’s in New York in a month and
. . . I don’t know. I just . . . I think I need to stay here.” The minute the