Author's Note: Holy Dair Moments Batman! Who saw Pret-a-Poor-Jenny? I'm going to be completely honest, if there hadn't been those salvaging Dan/Blair interactions, the whole episode would have stank for me. Though, FINALLY!, Chuck and Blair are finito- paving the way for all things Dair. And you know Dan's going to be all noble and apologize to Blair for intentionally interfering the wrong way. He has to- now that Serena's all 'Grunge artist from summer camp woo!'- and after apologizing they're going to start making out like grizzly bears. Because grizzly bears make out. And because that's the only logical next step. Obviously. Hope everyone enjoys chapter six!

Chapter Six
New York, New York
Thursday, January 26
7:26:34 A.M. EST

Constance Billard and St. Jude's is one, regal, brick building, split up into a girls' wing, a boys', and integrated halls for classes. My locker is located in one of the girls' hallways (obviously) and it's neatly organized by class period. Taped onto the inside of the locker door is a decal of the Yale bulldog.

"So, I want to go to Yale," I remark to Serena.

She glances up as she gathers my textbook and notebooks for me, smiling, she says, "Yeah- You're pretty hell-bent on getting in."

I nod to myself.

"Where is your French book?" she asks absently, looking through my Chanel tote, peering into my locker.

As she's sifting through everything, I remember the French 4 Honors book sitting on my desk- the one I didn't know I was supposed to bring to school today (and why would I? I don't know my classes!).

"Oh- I think I forgot it at home," I say apologetically.

Serena immediately lightens herself (for my benefit, no doubt) and says, "That's fine- I'm sure Janier won't mind."

Right. He won't mind because I'm an invalid.

"Blair!"

I turn and find four girls standing and staring at me, as if in awe. They're all dressed in uniform, with designer pieces added into their ensembles (like Serena as well) and they seem extremely put-together. I feel inadequate in comparison, and it makes me prickle with anger. Last night Dorota pointed out my uniform requirements to me, so I was able to get dressed this morning without committing a major faux pas. I put on a high-waisted, black, pencil skirt, a white blouse with a ruffled neckline, and patent leather pumps. I feel comfortable and confident in the clothes (even more so, because Serena seemed absolutely thrilled with the way I looked when she came to pick me up), but these girls just seem to know who they are and what they're used to wearing. I just feel so confused, and I wish I knew what I was used to wearing and used to doing.

I stare at the four girls and examine them. There's one girl with dark hair and a catlike face, looking judgmental but forcedly-sweet. There's a short girl with a honey-blonde bob and an awed expression on her face. An Asian girl looks as if she's awaiting her marching awards, smiling with hesitation. And there's a girl with beautiful, dark skin and very curly hair, looking between the others, as if trying to gauge the proper reaction- she settles for watching me expectantly.

"Can I help you?" I reply.

Serena closes the locker and turns to us, "Oh- B, these are our friends."

More friends.

"This is Penelope," she says, gesturing to the girl with the cat-face and dark hair. "This is Kati," she points to the Asian girl. "This is Isabel," she nods toward the girl with extremely curly hair. "And this is Hazel," she says, referring to the remaining girl- the one with the bob.

I nod to them, giving them a critical smile.

Hazel breathes, "So it's true?"

"What?" I ask, growing slightly annoyed.

"You really don't remember anything?" Isabel almost demands.

I don't think it would be best to point out the fact that I do remember something. I remember Dan but- urgh.... Let's not even think about that.

Serena sighs, "Guys, I wasn't making it up."

"Well- Gossip Girl said-"

"Guys!" Serena reprimands. "She has amnesia- and besides, Gossip Girl isn't always truthful."

Hazel and Penelope are both about to say something, but a bell resounds in the hall and they stop themselves.

Prettily, Penelope says, "We'll see you guys at lunch," and they follow her down the expanse of hallway.

Once they're gone, Serena rolls her eyes and hands me my tote. I sling it over my shoulder, and she picks her bag off the floor, hanging it on the crook of her arm. She leads me in the opposite direction in which the girls left, and turns down another corridor. She points out the little plaque that hangs over the corridor's entrance- the one that says 'Language Hallway,' and she tells me this is where all of the foreign language classes take place. That's easy enough, so I don't even nod in recognition. At the end of the hallway, we stop outside of a classroom. There's a bunch of girls and guys hanging around in front of the lockers outside of the room, talking and chatting. As we approach, they all fall silent and look at us, eyeing me as if I'm a ticking time-bomb. Some of them turn and whisper to one another, but mostly they just stare, openmouthed. I wonder when this is going to stop. Serena sighs for me, and pulls me toward the wall, a few feet away from the group.

"Okay, so this is French 4 Honors," she explains. "Your teacher is Mr. Janier and from what I hear, he's kind of crazy- but in a fun kind of way."

I knot my eyebrows, "This isn't your French class too?"

"No, I stopped taking a language after sophomore year," she explains. "Once you get in there and we talk to Janier for a minute, I have to go to my physics class."

I'm panicked at the idea that she's going to leave me to fend for myself for a whole class period, but I'm also annoyed that I have to be escorted around from class to class at all.

Serena says, "I'll be waiting right outside the second the bell rings though- Headmistress Queller gave me a pass to get out early and get in late for every class until you get acclimated."

I smile briefly, feeling even more like a pathetic loser as the minutes pass.

Everyone starts filing into the classroom, and Serena and I follow them. As we enter the room, everyone else takes their seats, but Serena and I go to the front of the room, where a chubby, balding man with a bushy mustache is sitting at his desk. Looking around the room, I see an array of some famous French paintings hanging on the walls, a bulletin board filled up with postcards, hosting snapshots of the Eiffel Tower, the Arc du Triomphe, Place de la Concorde, Notre Dame, and Versailles. The room is bright and chaotic- in the way that language classes ought to be- and I find myself smiling.

"Excuse me, Mr. Janier?"

The man looks up, and as soon as he sees me he smiles, loudly saying, "Bonjour, Blanche! Comment ca va?"

Who is Blanche?

"Blanche is your French name," Serena explains. She turns to Monsieur Janier and says, "I think Headmistress Queller emailed you about what happened- About Blair's amnesia."

"Ah, yes, yes," he nods, his face grave and serious now. "And how are you, sweetie?" he asks of me.

I want to hug him, he's just so sweet.

I give him a little smile, "I'm doing okay, thank you."

"She still can't remember anything though," Serena points out. "But she can remember how to speak French."

Monsieur's eyes light up, "Ah! C'est vrai? La langue est de le coeur, pas la tete, n'est-ce pas?"

I smile sweetly, easily, saying, "C'est vrai, Monsieur."

He beams.

"So, I'll be going, but I'll be back for second period, okay?" Serena asks of me.

I nod, hoping nobody else notices the fact that I have to be treated like a toddler.

"Merci, ma belle," Monsieur Janier calls as Serena leaves. "Et Blanche," he stands and gently ushers me to a seat in the front of the room, to the side, beside a pimply boy with greasy hair.

I know- somehow- that I was never okay about sitting next to this piece of work.

The morning goes by in a blurry mass of noxious confusion and nausea.

French is easy, because it's only speaking in a language I seem to be fluent in. Second period Physics with Dr. Brass, however, is possibly the worst form of torture ever invented (unintentionally, maybe). The woman is old and slightly pathetic- I almost feel bad as I stare at her outfit, hair, and aura, in disgust. And to make matters worse, she has no sympathy for me and expects me to know all of the formulas and terms she throws at me. The only reason I don't leave the class all together, is because Hazel is in my class and she pretty much does everything for me. And my third period elective, World Governments, is manageable. My teacher, Mr. Efrinn, shouts a lot, but he's exciting and passionate about what he's teaching, so I enjoy it.

By the time the bell rings for lunch though, I'm glad to be taking a break from things I'm expected to know and people I'm supposed to recognize.... At least for a few minutes.

"So, what's your final verdict on the morning?" Serena asks me, as we reconvene outside of the World Governments' classroom in the Social Studies hallway.

I sigh, "It was all right."

She gives me a sympathetic look as we go back to my locker.

We spend lunch on the steps of the Met, with the girls who are- presumably- my friends. We all eat yogurt, fruit, granola, salad, or sushi. Right now I just want a double cheeseburger- my stomach is growling so horribly- but the thought brings on guilt, so I focus on my yogurt with gusto. The girls talk about designers, people, places, gossip- things I can't recall. I notice Serena roll her eyes and huff a little, more than once, but I can't pinpoint why. Is it for my benefit? because I'm so left out? Or is it something else entirely?

"Oh em gee, guys," Hazel says, pausing her chopsticks midway to her mouth. "We're totally leaving B out."

I look at all of them, now staring at me with pity.

"I totally forgot about the memory thing," Kati says, and I can't help but roll my eyes.

"Should we give her a refresher on all the latest gossip?" Penelope asks, almost wickedly.

I'm about to tell them to go ahead, because it'd be better than being completely confused, but Serena steps in, saying, "No, guys."

"Why not?" Isabel asks. "How else is she supposed to remember?"

Serena looks annoyed at all of them as she says, "Not today."

I'm confused, but I don't say anything- I can't, I'm now distracted. Glancing along the length of the sidewalk, I see Dan walking toward us. He doesn't see me looking at him, so I do it freely. I'm not going to lie, but seeing him- no, seeing someone I recognize- makes my shoulders sag and my anxiety wash away. I don't feel so lost and trapped, because I know him, and my body reacts accordingly. Every muscle and ligament relaxes, and a smile adorns my lips for a fraction of a second. Seeing him reminds me that, somehow, this is my life, and it always has been. And I'm privately grateful for his appearance at our lunch spot.

"Dan!" Serena says happily, her whole face breaking into a smile when she sees Dan ascending the steps.

I avert my eyes from him and focus on the granola in my raspberry yogurt.

When he's reached our group he sits down beside Serena and they kiss briefly, causing the girls to grimace and curl their lips. Haha.

They break apart, he puts his arm around her, and she asks, "What are you doing over here?"

Because apparently it's not usual for him to sit with us during lunch. Not that I would know.

"I was just coming over to see how your day was," he says. Then he looks over and notices me sitting there silently, and he- forcing himself?- asks, "Blair. How's your first day back?"

I sigh, "As good as can be expected."

I'm tempted to say, Better now that you're here, but that would definitely be taken the wrong way.

Ergh.

I'm sick of this amnesia thing.

My new psychologist's name is Dr. Shonberg. She's young- probably only in her thirties- and pretty, with curly, shoulder-length, auburn hair, long-lashed, big brown eyes, and an easy, addictive smile. She's slim, dressed in a gray designer skirt, and a nicely fitted navy blue sweater. Around her neck is a simple string of pearls, and she has an adequate amount of make-up on. All in all, I'm relieved. When I heard Shonberg I was expecting an old man- like Freud. But this Dr. Shonberg is acceptable.

"So, Blair," she says, once we're alone in her sunny office, with my mother out in the waiting room. "Let me start off by saying that whatever you tell me here will be in complete confidence."

I feel as if I'm having deja vu.

"Unless you make any mention of hurting someone else or yourself- then I have to bring it up outside of our sessions," she gives me an encouraging smile, despite the meaning behind her words. "Okay?"

I nod.

She nods too, then prompts, "So, you must have had a pretty crazy week."

I let out a little, harsh laugh, saying, "You can't imagine."

With an amused smile, she tells me, "I'm interested to hear about it."

"It's the usual- you know," I reply. "Wake up from a three-day coma, find you've forgotten your whole life because of a car accident, but you...." I trail off of my tirade, realizing what I'm about to say.

She waits.

I don't say anything. Instead, I look out one of the massive windows of her Park Avenue office, at windows across the street, pursing my lips. The afternoon sun is glinting off the opposing glass, shining into the bright, airy room I'm in- all brightness and heat on this January day. I dig my nails into the leather armchair I'm sitting in, gritting my teeth slightly. A part of me wants to open up to this woman- to someone- and to just spill my guts out. What a relief it would be to have someone who will listen and give me advice- someone who isn't upset that I don't remember them from a previous life. But, on the other hand, this affliction is mine. This loss of memory and sense of my life, belongs to me and me alone. I don't need to confess to her how I feel or what I'm thinking. I just don't have to. Besides, I especially don't want to talk about my remembering Dan.... Only Dan.

"But you....?" she prompts.

I sigh, saying, "But I can remember something."

She looks very inquisitive.

"My supposed best friend's boyfriend."

She looks surprised, which surprises me. Has no one warned her about the specifics?

"Wow," she says, looking surprised and amused.

"Uh-huh," I say, glad someone is understanding the magnitude of this situation.

She shakes her head, as if trying to grasp this, asking, "So- wait- what do you mean?"

"I mean, I woke up from this coma and didn't remember anyone," I explain. "I didn't remember my 'parents' or my 'best friend.' I couldn't remember any accident or my life before it."

When I don't continue she says, "I got that part. But, the rest?"

Taking a deep breath, I say, "My best friend- Serena- her boyfriend thought it would be the polite thing to do to bring flowers to the hospital since I'm Serena's best friend."

"Right," Dr. Shonberg nods, as if this part makes perfect sense.

"But the weird thing is- I mean- I remember him."

She stares at me for a moment, "Only him?"

"Only Dan," I say, with slight regret.

"Why do you think that is?" she asks.

I let out an annoyed breath, "If only I knew."

"You say you remember- Dan, is it?" I nod. "You remember Dan as a person- Can you also recall memories from before the accident, concerning Dan?"

I nod slowly, "Yes. Maybe I'm forgetting some memories, but I don't feel like I am," I shrug, tired all of a sudden. "But within the memories, I can't remember other people or places- I can only remember me and Dan."

She stares at me for a moment, looking amazed, then tears her eyes away from me to glance at her watch, saying, "We're actually out of time for today, and I don't want to keep your mother waiting, but- Blair, I know everyone says it's mandatory that you see me, but-" she cuts herself off and says. "I don't want to force you."

I digest this for a moment.

"Would you like to return every week at this time? We don't even have to talk about the amnesia situation, we can talk about anything you want- whatever you're comfortable with."

This hasn't been too painful, so I say, "I guess that would be okay."

It's not like I can figure myself out on my own.

Author's Note: So, that was the chapter! Hope everyone liked it! Eeeeeek! Halloween is coming up! Who is dressing up!? I, myself, am rocking an awwwwwwwwwwwesome Marie Antoinette costume (I can't even contain the awesomeness in words wgkgejgelkhegef!), and I am going to a haunted orchard and then to a headless horsemen thing-a-ma-jig, and I'm throwing a party with one of my bffers (yeah I said bffer), and I am so excited! I freaking love holidays! What's everyone's costumes/plans for Halloween?! Also, an extra cookie for whoever offers up the best costume ideas for Dan and Blair! That might just evoke a new story idea. 'cause I need another idea! Haha. Cheers!