Chapter One: Cosmopolitans &Stone-Overs

"Riiip!" Serena van der Woodsen leaned over a big cardboard box, ripping a piece of duck tape off the large circular role before placing it on the box, sealing it shut. She was packing up all of her things from her room on the comfortable place in New York's Upper East side to bring with her to California, where she would be staying for the next three months.

Serena had done well her first year at Yale and wanted to blow off some steam; party, drink, have fun. All of those reasons could be accounted for on why she (and her best friend Blair Waldorf) had rented a house in Malibu.

She wiped a bead of sweat from her brow, stretching out her arms before flopping down on her large bed, which she still had to have someone pack. Since her older brother Eric wasn't around (he'd opted for a trip to Spain instead of coming to California) Serena would have to have Nate do it.

Nate Archibald was one of her best friends, and on-again, off-again romances. It was a petty thing, but still fun, because both had a mutual attraction for the other. Then again, what guy could turn down Serena van der Woodsen? She was tall, blonde, beautiful, kind, and smart – in every sense, she was perfect.

She and Nate had lost their virginity to one another in tenth grade behind their other best friend Blair's back. Blair was that beautiful girl who was a total rich bitch, who was smart and driven and knew exactly what she wanted. And when Blair had found about Nate and Serena's little "escapade" she had been more than furious, because at the time she'd had a whole little plan in her mind: go to Yale, graduate, get a good job, marry Nate, have kids, live happily ever after. And in Blair's mind Serena was totally ruining that plan.

Still, Serena and Blair were best friends for a reason, and no matter how many times they fought they always made up and became friends again. It was just the way things were.

---

Blair smacked her cherry red lips and tapped her Marc Jacobs heel. If there was one thing that she hated it was waiting, and more importantly looking stupid while she was waiting. Because at the moment in the crowded bar at The Plaza, Blair looked stupid. And mainly this was Serena's fault, because if Serena was ever on time she would know that Blair was, and for once Blair wouldn't look like a total loser sitting by herself.

Blair's purse, a Louis Vuitton, was sitting on the table before her right next to the glass of vodka on the rocks she'd ordered ten minutes ago when she'd first arrived. She pulled out her phone, impatiently dialing Serena's number only to get her answering machine. This is Serena, leave a message! the giggly blonde's voice said loudly into Blair's ear. Giving an impatient sigh, Blair hung up without leaving Serena a message and stuffed the phone back into her purse, getting up to leave.

"Excuse me, sorry – excuse me!" Blair turned at the familiar breathless voice of her friend. She sat down again, lifting her glass towards the waitress as if to say she wanted a refill. It was funny that people at the bar in their twenties were carded but girls like Blair and Serena, barely even twenty, were allowed. Then again, all the waitresses and bartender's knew what would happen if they did decide to try and card them. Let's just say Serena and Blair's families are some very prominent names in New York.

"Fifteen minutes," Blair said, examining her french manicure.

"What?" Serena asked, confused.

"That's how long I've been waiting for you," Blair said, rolling her eyes at her best friend. It was funny how opposite the two girls were; Serena was friendly and beautiful, easily the most popular and pretty while Blair was bitchy and bitter, always putting everything she could to just once beat Serena. But every time Blair came close – the audition for Breakfast at Fred's, the graduation outfit, Nate, for Gods sake ... everything Blair did just didn't measure up to Serena's outcome. Still, the two were best friends and had been since birth, practically.

The families of both girls had been friends for generations, so it was practically mandatory that their children be friends. It was the same with Katie Farkas, Isobel Coates, Nate Archibald, and Chuck Bass. Katie and Isobel may be annoying sidekick twits who copied everything Blair and Serena did, and Nate may be a clueless boy who skidded by on looks (and who had a slight addiction to crack), and Chuck may be the horniest, most perverted guy you'll ever meet – but they were all forced to tolerate one another, because they were practically family.

"Sorry," Serena shrugged, her blue-brown eyes twinkling. Blair studied Serena as she hailed down a waitress (with not much difficulty, since that particular waitress had been dying to speak to the beautiful blonde girl who had captivated the room). Blair couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealously for the girl, who had every boy's heart and every girl's soul. She had the blonde hair that looks fake when you try to get the same color and the air of confidence you just can't describe. Deep down, Blair thought perhaps she hated her.

The waitress walked over quickly, almost knocking over two men in business suits, carrying two tall drinks to Blair and Serena.

"So are you all packed up?" Blair asked, taking a gulp of her new drink. It was pink and slightly tangy; probably a Cosmo, since it was Serena's favorite.

"Yeah, I finished this morning. I'll have to ask Nate to help me pack up my bed, though," Serena said, tossing her hair to one side carelessly. It was then that Blair noticed what she was wearing: a pair of denim overalls, but the kind that are a skirt, with one of the hooks around her shoulder undone and hanging. Blair had been hunting for just the right pair but couldn't find any that fit her body, because all of them were too big for her torso and too tight for her thighs. And underneath it was a single pink camisole and high top Converse – also pink. Blair couldn't understand how Serena could be so matchy-matchy with her clothes (and with hideous shoes, at that!) and still look good. She took a long swig, feeling the buzz in the back of her head start.

"Okay, good. Make sure it's boarded by Sunday – we're leaving Monday morning." Blair said, taking out her planner to verify the arrangements. Lately Blair had been feeling very much like Audrey Hepburn in Funny Face – intelligent and professional, but, of course, without the frumpy outfits. She had very quickly decided to be Audrey post-make over in that particular movie after seeing that hideous green stiff plaid shift dress she wore at the beginning of the movie.

"Who else is coming?" Serena asked, her chin in her hand as she stirred her drink.

"Um ..." Blair began. She hadn't really thought of inviting anyone. The thought of it being just the two of them had been much more appealing, since she hadn't spoken to Nate in a while (awkward!) and didn't care much to call Vanessa. Not because she wouldn't like to hang out with her shaven-head friend, but because Vanessa would insist upon bringing that morose poetry boyfriend of hers along. Blair could cross out Chuck, who was beginning to act more manly in an attempt to fit in with his army buddies, and Katie and Isobel, who were both more ditzy than Jessica Simpson combined (there's only so much a person can take of stupidity before they shoot themselves). That didn't leave very many people, except for Aaron, Blair's step-brother. Last she'd heard from him he was dating some girl at Harvard – her name was something like Kate or Cherie or something. It wasn't like Blair actually paid attention to him when he told about his life – please, she had more important things to do.

"We could invite Aaron, I guess," Blair said, raising an eye brow. Serena nodded, oblivious to the fact Blair was suggesting that maybe Serena would like Aaron to come for more ... personal reasons.

"Yeah – and Carolyn might want to come too. Hey, there's plenty of room!" Carolyn! That was her name. Blair shrugged, and nibbled on her thumb nail. There was plenty of room in the house – she had made sure of it before she had rented it out.

"What about Natie?" Serena asked, and Blair cringed slightly at the nickname Serena used for both of their ex-boyfriends. Honestly, no matter how good of friends two girls are they should never share a boyfriend. It got much too complicated. Still, Blair was suppose to be over Nate (but honestly, who could ever get over a guy like Nate?) so didn't show her discomfort.

"Yeah, why not?" Blair said, nodding before polishing off her drink quickly. She stood and straightened her straight jeans.

"You're leaving?" Serena asked, confused.

"Love you," Blair said, dismissing her question and kissing Serena's cheek, walking out of The Plaza and hailing a cab with the fling of an arm. She slid on her sunglasses. Who cared if Nate came? Life would still be good ...

---

Nate Archibald ran a hand through his dark brown hair, which was flopping around his head in every direction, since he'd slept funny last night. His head was pounding mainly because he was getting over a stone-over (what he called it, anyway. Instead of a hangover, he was stoned-over since he was stoned yesterday. Gettit?) and he could've slept even longer had it not been for the pounding on his door.

Nate didn't really care that all he was wearing were yesterday's jeans with his gray plaid boxers sticking out, or that he hadn't shaved in three days, or that the person at the door could possibly be one of his ex-girlfriends.

"Blair?" Nate asked, surprised. He hadn't seen her since the graduation of their senior year. Well, that wasn't exactly true. That was the last time they talked. They'd seen each other after that, when Nate had been going with Serena off and on, and he'd see Blair every once in a while when he dropped of Serena at The Plaza or something. He could never get any information from Serena about Blair, though – he wondered sometimes if he and Blair would still get married, and if she was dating that British Lord still.

"Hi Nate," Blair said, a sickly sweet smile on her face. Immediately Nate became uneasy, because Blair only used that tone when she was babying someone or was being fake, as she usually was.

Nate looked her up and down from his position behind the doorway. She looked good – really good. He wondered silently if she was still throwing up after every meal. Nate had always found that slightly repulsing. Still, Blair had the same air of confidence around her, and her long dark hair was shiny and straight, and her heels and jeans accented her petite legs.

"So can I come in?" Blair asked, tapping her nail on the side of the door impatiently.

"What? Oh – uh, sure," Nate said, forgetting temporarily where they were. He opened the door wider and Blair walked in like she had lived her all her life, which she had, practically, since they'd been going out almost all through high school and had been best friends since birth.

"I just wanted to ask you if you'd fly out to California with me and Serena," Blair said, pulling out her planner and a pen. "Serena also needs help packing up her bed. We're moving into a house in Malibu for a couple of months – you know, to let out steam." She looked up at Nate to see if he was listening, which, of course, he wasn't, but he nodded anyway. "Nate!" Blair complained.

"What? Right – yeah, I'll go over tomorrow. So when are you guys leaving?" Nate asked, running his hand through his hair again.

"Monday morning. I'll buy you a ticket today – have all your stuff packed by Sunday because that's when the people are coming to load everything up. Serena and I will pick you up Monday!" Blair called as she walked out the door, not even checking to see if Nate was willing to come.

"Yeah – uh, sure." Nate said, closing the door and with a sigh he tried to contemplate what had just happened.