A/N: Wow, these chapters just keep getting longer and longer. I guess I just have a lot of story to tell... And, again, no proofreading occurred here, so be warned.
A/N 2: Also, I hope reading smut doesn't make you uncomfortable, because that stuff goes on a while and it sure earns an M rating... It's the first day of school, so let's make it one to remember, right? ;) Oh, and one more thing - the book the second quote came from (I Am the Messenger) is amazing, and I highly recommend that and Zusak's novel, The Book Thief. Okay, that is all.
Chapter 9
"Do you think I'm pretty?"
"I think you're beautiful."
"Beautiful?"
"You are so beautiful, it hurts sometimes."
~ Richelle Mead, Vampire Academy
"Sometimes people are beautiful.
Not in looks.
Not in what they say.
Just in what they are."
~ Markus Zusak, I Am the Messenger
I knew there was something different about me when I glanced at my phone and saw that it was only six-thirty in the morning. I'd made a habit over the years of narrowly missing tardy bells and slipping into my seat at the last possible second, and the first few weeks of school were the absolute worst, because while my brain knew that I had to go, my heart and body were still arguing for a little more summer, a little more sleep, a little more sand between my toes and ocean waves in my ears. But this year, not only had I agreed to go to a very early breakfast with Blair, but also I was looking forward to the return to Constance. I could already imagine in a month's time the way the leaves would be rich shades of scarlet, gold, and orange, furling at the ends to prepare for their fall, and the air would be cool and crisp in the way that was distinctly autumn. And autumn in New York City was the most beautiful in the world.
After I'd showered and swallowed nearly three cups of the strong liquid energy my mom had left roasting in the pot, I found myself in the predicament (less dramatic of course, but the same basic problem) that Blair had been in the previous night. Because of my aforementioned tendency to run late on school days, I usually slipped whatever relatively clean garments I could find on my floor over my head and called it a day. But I knew now that I would see Dan today, and for some reason I wanted to make an effort to impress him.
Our stay-in date last night went really well, even though I didn't win a single game of Scrabble. But the truth was, I actually had gotten a chance to win. I could have played "zealot" and gotten a triple word score, but instead, I played "eat." I don't know why I did it. Maybe because I could tell that Dan was really proud of his vocabulary, or maybe because I had beaten him at bowling the day before and I didn't want him to lose his kind of game, or maybe because I just loved seeing the look of victory on his face and the confidence in his eyes. After a few games, we'd shared greasy Chinese takeout and watched one of his friend's most recent documentaries, cleverly titled, "Why Rich People Suck" by Vanessa Abrams, which he'd said was profoundly intelligent, a "fascinating, satirical view of Manhattan's top tier" and I thought was profoundly boring and far too bitter in its criticism, but since it was the work of his good friend, I held my tongue. When he kissed me goodnight at around ten, I felt my stomach churn in a way it never had before – whether it was from nervousness or excitement I had no idea, but I didn't mind the feeling either way.
After examining the stack of new clothing I had bought on a back-to-school shopping trip to Bendel's, Saks, and Bergdorf's with Blair (which had taken nearly five hours), I was finally able to settle on a gray, chunky Marc Jacobs sweater to go with my uniform. It was casual and a little bohemian, but not in the way that made Blair turn up her nose in disgust. It still had style and was right on trend. While I was thinking of Blair, I checked my phone, figuring I probably had at least 10 missed messages from her by now, including but not limited to: texts concerning her outfit, texts concerning her hair, texts concerning her makeup, and texts concerning my outfit, hair, and makeup. Plus, there was most likely a couple warning me that I better be on time to breakfast, "or else…" But when I looked at my phone, I only had two unread texts, and neither was from Blair.
Sep 4, 2007, 7:09 A.M.
Dan: Can't wait to see you today. I can't believe I'm actually excited for the first day of school.
I felt my heart do a little flip in my chest. I was excited to see him too, but I didn't believe for a second that there was ever a first day of school Dan hadn't been excited about. He loved it.
Sep 4, 2007, 7:10 A.M.
Serena: Can't wait to see you either! Meet me at the front of the school around 8!
I hit send and then opened my next text.
Sep 4, 2007, 7:11 A.M.
Unknown: Hey Serena! I hope that it's okay Dan gave me your phone number. (It's Jenny, but you probably already figured that out.) I just wanted to wish you good luck on your first day of junior year! By the way, no one has ever beaten Dan at Scrabble, so don't feel bad. :)
I smiled at Jenny's sweet note. I liked the freshman from Brooklyn, and I was just going to have to convince Blair and her minions to lay off her.
Sep 4, 2007, 7:13 A.M.
Serena: Thanks Jenny! I hope your first day is fabulous, and you have four years of fun in high school! Know that you always have a friend looking out for you as long as I'm at Constance.
After sending out her second text of the morning, I began to grow concerned about the lack of communication from Blair. It was so unlike her.
Sep 4, 2007, 7:15 A.M.
Serena: Hey B! Are we still on for breakfast this morning? I'm actually ready for once. Aren't you proud of me?
Well, that wasn't completely true. I was running a little behind, but for me, this was uncharacteristically early. I waited patiently, hoping that whatever was causing Blair's unusual behavior wasn't bad or too serious, specifically, anything to do with her mother.
Sep 4, 2007, 7:18 A.M.
Blair: Sorry S, but I can't make it! Something came up! But yes, I am proud of you, even though you would still be late to breakfast even if you were already there. See you at school!
Now I was really surprised. Blair never cancelled plans unless she was super sick, and that text did not indicate any kind of illness. And in her schedule, things didn't just "come up." Everything was planned to the minute, all 1,440 of them every single day, all seven days a week.
Sep 4, 2007, 7:18 A.M.
Serena: Who are you and what have you done with my OCD-never-cancels-plans best friend, Blair?
I never did get a reply, but I did find out what happened to her. She had decided to ditch town cars for limos, and since then, her preference has never gone back.
Blair really had never been the type to cancel plans, especially with her friends. It was her nature to be organized, obsessively so, because she liked knowing everything that was going to happen and furthermore, when it was going to happen. She wanted to be able to control her environment as much as possible so that she was never caught off guard, never unprepared, never flustered. But as with everything, there were always moments that really were out of her hands, things that she couldn't have foreseen or plotted or planned in her neat little daybook, and forces that threw her plans so far off course in a tornado so fast and strong that it took extreme focus, discipline, and time to get them back on track. That morning, Chuck Bass was one of those uncontrollable factors. And while Blair Waldorf hated things she couldn't control, she really hated people she couldn't manipulate or anticipate or control, and above all else, she hated when she felt out of control. But that was exactly what Chuck was and what he did to her. She was all flushed cheeks and wobbly knees and lopsided, crazed grins, and she hated it. Hated it for how much she loved it.
And when she went outside, perfectly put together and prepared to step into her town car to go to breakfast, she despised herself for the way her breath caught in her throat and her heart started pounding in her ears when she saw the limo and the Bass-hole himself leaning against it like some scene out of a movie.
"Waldorf," he drawled in greeting, eyeing her appreciatively. Upon first glance, she looked sweet – her curls wrapped immaculately into a loose chignon, her cream stockings spotless, her navy Chanel flats on her dainty feet, and of course, it wouldn't be the first day of school if she wasn't wearing a signature headband – this one an ivory satin band full of navy beading and dotted with pearls. But upon closer inspection, Chuck saw glimpses of the fire below her cool, prim and proper exterior. Her lips were painted fire truck red, and when she walked, he could catch flashes of the lace at the top of the stockings, lingerie lace that wrapped tightly and temptingly around her white thighs. "You look lovely this morning." Lovely wasn't an adequate word, but he supposed it would do.
"Stalking me after only one date, Bass?" Her nostrils flared, but Chuck didn't think it was in anger.
"I like to think of it as conveniently placing myself in front of your apartment building."
"Well, I'm afraid I'm going to have to foil whatever you hoped to achieve by this 'placement' of yours, because it happens to be very inconvenient for me."
"Don't tell me you've already got a date for breakfast," said Chuck, his playful tone successfully concealing his legitimate worry that she would answer in the affirmative.
"I'm meeting Serena." He breathed a subtle sigh of relief. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get going."
"Hold on there, Waldorf. I came all the way here – "
"Oh yes, because it's such a long trek for you." She rolled her eyes at him and crossed her arms tightly over her chest.
"Okay, well if I did live far away, I still would have come, so as I was saying, the least you can do is have a little pre-breakfast breakfast with me."
"You're asking me to eat two meals in the span of an hour? Are you insane? My mother's expecting me to fit into sample sizes next week!"
"So eat a few strawberries and drink a mimosa!" Chuck shouted, exasperated. He didn't show up expecting her to joyously leap into his arms or anything, but he didn't expect a rejection, either. She remained the only woman to ever reject him, and he had been hoping that it would end up as a one-time occurrence.
Blair considered his proposition. She wasn't trying to get him worked up, but her default setting when she was too worked up to think straight was frigid bitch. Her downright elation at seeing Chuck scared the shit out of her, and her nearly overwhelming desire to sprint to him as fast as her legs would carry her? Downright terrifying. But as much as he scared her, and she scared herself when she was with him, he thrilled her, he charmed her (in spite of her claim last night that he was "terrible" at it), he made her feel light and free and beautiful and special, and all of these things drowned out the little voice in her head that was telling her to be responsible, to run, to stay away from Uncontrollable Blair. Because Blair didn't want to be controlled anymore – by her mother, by her friends, by herself. So she sighed as if it was the last thing she wanted to say and muttered, "Okay, fine. Let's go." But she was secretly thrilled.
"I knew you couldn't resist me, Waldorf," Chuck smarmed, hiding his elation at her acceptance behind a smirk.
"It was the prospect of a limo ride, actually, that I couldn't resist," she said as she slid into the familiar seats. She later swore that she could smell a hint of the Chanel No. 5 she had been wearing the night before.
"The prospect of a ride in a limo, more likely." Chuck waggled his eyebrows up and down suggestively, prompting Blair to slap his arm. "Please continue," he drawled. "I like playing rough."
"Gladly," Blair told him, pummeling his shoulders, his forearms, and his stomach with her tiny balled up fists until he finally caught them in his much larger hands and kissed every knuckle softly, one by one until all ten felt equally tingly. While there were certainly many excuses Blair could have given herself to account for her next action, in that moment, she couldn't see anything other than the truth, and the truth was sitting right in front of her, pouring into her eyes with his own. Chuck was the truth. He didn't let her lie to him, but more importantly, he didn't let her lie to herself, and he liked the Blair he saw, the real Blair. Maybe he even…? But Blair let the possibility slip through the cracks in her mind for now, because she was surging forward with the force of the truth – the truth that she wanted Chuck. And this inexplicable, undeniable force was pulling her closer and closer to him until their lips were colliding. After a request of entrance by Chuck's teeth on Blair's lower lip, their tongues began to thrash wildly and gratefully against one another, and Blair was astounded by how Chuck could make her feel drunk and at the same time create an insatiable thirst that she felt she would die of if it wasn't quenched. There was no in between, no half-full, no sort of satisfied. She either got all of him or none of him, and she wanted everything.
"About that ride you mentioned earlier," she murmured between kisses, her head already lightheaded. "Was that an offer?" Chuck's eyes widened. He gripped her shoulders to steady her before gently cradling her head like he had before their first kiss on the Empire State Building.
"Are you sure?" he whispered, because for all his talk and jokes and innuendos, this time it was different. This was Blair, and she was different. And as much as Chuck wanted her (which was more than he'd ever wanted anyone), he wanted what she wanted more, and he would wait if she asked him to. Because he knew that a woman like Blair Waldorf didn't often end up with a man like Chuck Bass. Because she was supposed to be with the Nate Archibalds of the world, the perfect society darling with the Golden Boy. Because he was afraid that by being this close to her this soon, he would ultimately end up pushing her away. Because he didn't want to hurt her, and because he definitely didn't want to lose her.
Instead of giving him an answer in words, Blair gave it in a kiss filled with all the passion she could muster. She wanted him to feel the electricity she felt running through her veins like they were hot metal wires. And then she was straddling him, raking her hands through his hair, unladylike moans escaping the back of her throat as he bit her neck then covered it with a trail of feathery kisses soft as butterfly wings. Though her fingers were unpracticed, they were nimble enough to manage to tear him out of his tie, jacket, and dress shirt in a matter of seconds. She buried her hands in his chest hair, placing her mouth all over his shoulders as she did.
"Your turn," he ordered, his voice thick and low. She raised her arms without a word, and he lifted her shirt over her head, never letting his eyes leave her face. With a gentle nudge, she lowered his head and he took in the sight of her. She was wearing a lacy light pink bra, and her breasts were nearly spilling over the tops of its cups, white and round and perfect. Chuck's expert fingers unclasped the back and released her breasts into his waiting hands. He cupped each one before tracing circles around her raised, pink nipples with his tongue, causing Blair to shudder with the hotness his mouth was leaving on her body and creating between her legs. After several more nips and licks and kisses, Blair felt like she was on fire, the flames consuming every limb and every inch of her soft, white skin. Chuck really was like the sun, and he was pouring his heat onto her, and she was so, so hot…Unable to stand it any longer, she hastily pulled off her skirt and shoes and was about to continue with her stockings before she heard Chuck mumble, "Leave those on." Nearly breathless, Blair gasped back, "Take those off," and pointed at his pants.
Sporting a wicked grin, Chuck instead chose to ignore her, lean back in his seat, and cross his legs. "You know, I have to wonder what people would say if they knew what a little vixen you really are," he said, still grinning mischievously.
"Chuck," Blair whined in response. "Please…"
"But then again, I quite enjoy knowing that you only show this side with me. That I do this to you."
"Chuck," Blair repeated, firmer this time. "I swear to God, if you aren't fucking me in the next five minutes, I will personally escort you to the gates of Hell."
"Sounds like fun. I'll probably end up there regardless, so I can't think of a more desirable escort." With that, Blair had had enough.
"Fine!" she shouted. "I'll just take care of things myself!" Peeking to make sure he was watching, that he knew what he was missing out on, she discarded her nearly see-through and soaked through La Perla thong and shook her hair loose out of its bun.
"Fuck, Blair," he choked out, now much more at attention. "You're beautiful." Again, an inadequate word for her.
"You know, it's such a shame," she said, beginning to trace patterns on the insides of her thighs until bringing her fingers up to delicately stroke her slick folds back and forth rhythmically. "You could be doing this right now." She felt her eyes roll back into her head and when they fluttered open again, she saw that Chuck had complied with her earlier request and was now completely naked and looking at her with his eyes the darkest she'd ever seen them – midnight black.
"Let me," he whispered. "Let me do this, Blair." She nodded yes in reply, not sure she could get words out if she tried. He gently pulled her hands away and replaced them with his own, and his fingers were everywhere all at once. He ran them over her folds and massaged her clit, making her whimper pathetically in response, before plunging two of them inside and running them in and out of her until she nearly went over the edge. "Hold on a little longer," he said, bringing his head down. She didn't know what he was going to do, but she trusted him and did as he asked.
"What are you going to – " her words were cut off as she realized exactly what it was that he was going to do. His fingers had been replaced with his tongue and it was swirling around inside her, finally bringing her to a point where she couldn't possibly hold on if she tried.
"Chuck!" she screeched. He smirked and lifted two fingers to his lips to remember the taste of her.
"Mmm, Waldorf, you taste so good. Like honey."
"Let me taste you." Chuck had pictured this a hundred times, her little mouth and delicate pink tongue on him, around him, everywhere… But he wanted her inside of him and they were on a time crunch, because while Chuck cared very little about school, Blair cared greatly, and besides, the old man wouldn't be too happy about him skipping on the very first day. He might just send him to boarding school, and that would mean no Blair at all.
"Another time. And I will hold you to it." He smirked; she smirked back. "But right now, I need to be inside you."
"Okay," she told him, sure of herself. "I'm ready."
"I swear I'll make it as painless as possible."
"I know. Just do it." She nodded at him encouragingly and he began massaging her once more, getting her wet again in preparation for him to slide in easily.
"Okay, Blair. This might hurt a little." He found his way inside her until he couldn't go any further and she squeezed her eyes shut to ready herself. "Open them," he commanded. He wanted to see those brown doe eyes for every second of this. He had to see them, and he told her so. "I need to see you." So she opened them and drew a line down his jaw with her finger.
"I suppose you are the boss here," she relented. He chuckled.
"Yes, I suppose so."
"But only here!" she was quick to add. "Don't get any ideas, Bass, because with everything else, I will always be the boss."
"Whatever you say, Waldorf." And then he plummeted deeper inside her and she simultaneously cried out in pain and pleasure, because that's exactly what Chuck did to her. He brought her pain, her insecurities, and her faults out of the shadows and into the light where they could no longer hide, but he still wanted her, and that gave her the greatest pleasure she'd ever known.
She saw ruby roses of blood blooming on the carpet of the limo and knew that there were tears pooling in her eyes, but the pain gradually subsided, and it was pleasure, all pleasure, as Chuck began to hammer in and out.
"Harder," she ordered. "Faster too."
"I thought I was the boss here," he managed to get out, a half-moon smile on his face. But nevertheless, he did as she asked as she gratefully bucked her hips against him. And then, as she wrapped her arms and legs around him tightly, she realized that they were practically molded to one another - fused into one body, one being, and suddenly, Blair didn't just feel like she was getting stuck by lightning; she was lightning, shooting sparks of an electric current, white hot and destructive, until she flashed back into the sky.
"Oh my God!" Blair realized that it was her voice yelling out. "Come with me, Chuck," she said, her voice taking on the bossiest tone she could muster given the circumstances.
"You first," he bossed right back. So she did, and it was better than she could have imagined. With the heat of Chuck's sun and the electricity of her lightning, how could it not be the most incredible feeling she'd ever experienced?
"Chuck!" she shouted, coming for him for the second time in the limo.
"Blair!" And then she knew that he had been waiting for her the whole time, and they collapsed onto each other, breathless, with Chuck still inside her. They stayed that way, holding on as if for dear life, until Blair heard the beeping of her phone.
"Serena," she mumbled, reluctantly pushing herself off (and out) of Chuck before typing out a quick response. There was no chance she was going to breakfast now.
"I guess it's safe to assume you have to go." Blair set down her phone and turned to face him.
"What are talking about? I'm not going anywhere."
"You're not?"
"No. So would you like to collect on that favor I owe you now or later?" He merely attacked her with kisses for an answer, and they both wondered how it was that they had gotten so lucky.
"Wait, so where is she?" Iz asked, examining her freshly painted nails. "If she's not at her penthouse, not at breakfast with Serena, and not here, then – "
"Oh my God!" Kati squealed, nearly knocking over her cup of non-fat vanilla yogurt. "There she is, and she's with – "
"Chuck Bass!" Jenny finished for her. It was no small miracle that Jenny had been granted access to the Met steps this morning, but after showing off her text from her brother's girlfriend to the rest of the girls, they had grudgingly allowed her to join them. Though she had been up for hours, Jenny still hadn't quite been able to shake the feeling that she was curling up in bed in Brooklyn and having a very strange dream, and Blair stepping out of a limo with Chuck Bass was enough to confirm it. "Someone pinch me," she muttered, not expecting anyone to overhear.
"Sorry, but I'm afraid I don't touch anything from Brooklyn," Penelope informed her snidely. "Too many diseases and trash and poor people. You understand, of course, don't you Little J?"
"Of course," Jenny agreed robotically, hurt by Penelope's words but unprepared to go into a vocal sparring match. Jenny lost her wits whenever she was around these girls; she supposed they intimidated it right out of her. "Hey, Blair," she said, wanting to at least make a good impression on someone today, the most important person of all. "I'm – "
"Jenny Humphrey, right?" Blair sat down and adjusted her curls in a compact mirror. Jenny could only stare, speechless. Blair Waldorf knew her name? Serena must have mentioned her! Jenny's heart swelled with pride, and she found her voice.
"Yeah," she said. "Nice to meet you."
"Too bad Blair can't say the same for you," Penelope replied, malice in her voice.
"Actually, Penelope, it's you who isn't very nice to be around at the moment, so if you'll excuse us, Jenny and I are going to find Serena." Penelope's jaw dropped, and Jenny's would have if she hadn't consciously made an effort to keep it sealed shut. "Well, aren't you coming, Little J?" Jenny heard Blair's words, and though she was still a bit dazed, she managed to get on her feet and walk in step with Blair, who strutted like she was on some kind of mission.
"Serena told me last night that you were supposed to meet her for breakfast this morning," Jenny said, attempting to make conversation. "Did she cancel?"
"Of course not," Blair returned with a light laugh, swatting a hand in front of her as if to imply that the thought of anyone cancelling on her was absurd. "Something came up and I had to cancel."
"Something with Chuck Bass?" Jenny wasn't looking for gossip; God knows Blair had been the only person nice to her all morning, with the exception of Rufus and Dan, who had been all over her during breakfast, giving her all sorts of advice she didn't need or want about high school. Upon later consideration, she realized she should have listened so that she would know exactly what not to do. But she was genuinely interested about the status of Blair and Chuck's relationship, if they even had one at all. Blair seemed to read Jenny's eyes, and she must have been adequately satisfied in their honest curiosity, because she answered a question she obviously didn't have to.
"Yes. He was waiting for me in his limo this morning outside my penthouse, and I couldn't exactly turn him down."
"Wow. That's actually kind of romantic, Blair." Nothing like the Chuck she had met at Penelope's, she added silently. Blair seemed really happy, almost to the point of being un-Blairlike, and Jenny didn't want to ruin that. Besides, maybe Chuck was different with her, and if Chuck Bass was who Blair wanted, then good for her for going for it. It definitely took courage; there was sure to be gossip about it all day, not to mention countless stares and questioning looks, even from Blair's so-called "friends." Jenny certainly hadn't been brave enough to seek Nate out again, but she supposed it was easier to stay on top than to get there. Then again, people said that it was lonely at the top, and Blair's minions always seemed to confirm this statement, not telling her their true opinions about anything, saying things about her behind her back, and constantly planning her downfall so that they could ascend to the throne.
"Yeah, I guess it was a little romantic," Blair was saying, a smile plastered to her face. She looked like she was going to keep talking but was interrupted with a blast from Gossip Girl that made Jenny want to vomit. It was a video of her dorky older brother making out with –
"Is that Serena?" Blair asked, clearly confused as to who was currently sucking her best friend's face via live streaming video.
"Yeah," Jenny mumbled, "with my brother, Dan."
"Oh, so that's Dan," said Blair, now seeming to remember that Serena had a real boyfriend now.
"They made it official last night," Jenny explained. "He's crazy about her."
"Of course he is. So is every breathing male who lays eyes on her." Normally, Jenny would expect at least a trace of envy or bitterness in a comment like this, especially given the rumors that Blair was secretly jealous of her blond counterpart, but Jenny didn't pick up on any. "And no offence, Little J," Blair went on, "but considering Serena can get any guy she wants, I'm having a hard time understanding why she'd go out with your brother, the loner from Brooklyn who looks like he's in need of a long shower." Jenny sighed, sure that she'd be getting a lot of these kinds of comments as more and more people realized that she and Dan were siblings.
"I understand completely," she said. "I don't get it either, especially when at Saint Jude's, there are guys as gorgeous as…" Jenny held her tongue. That was close. She didn't know what Penelope had told Blair, and she couldn't risk her fragile but growing friendship with the Queen B.
"As Nate Archibald?" Jenny's head snapped to attention.
"You know? Oh God, what did Penelope say about me? It's just a little crush, I promise, and I have no intention, I mean it's no big deal, and I – "
"You should go for it," Blair inserted in the midst of Jenny's ramblings, a determined look on her face. "I can deal with Penelope if she gives you any trouble. Jenny, almost every girl at Constance has a crush on Nate, and if it's you that he likes, then you owe it to yourself to see where things go. It's not often you get to make a whole school of bitches like Penelope jealous." She offered Jenny a small smile.
"Why are you being so nice to me?"
"Because," Blair said quietly. "I know what it's like to be afraid of going after what you want and holding yourself back because you're scared of what other people will think. And I wish that there had been someone there to tell me that thinking like that is really, really stupid, because the people who really care about you want all of you, not just parts of you, and definitely not a pretend you. And I can see that you're conflicted about whether or not it's okay to be yourself, so I want to tell you that it is."
"You really think that?" Jenny asked, overwhelmed by the kindness and warmth in Blair's eyes, neither of which she had ever seen in them before. Blair nodded. "Thank you, Blair. Really."
"Anytime, Little J," Blair said, tousling Jenny's hair like she would a younger sister. "And, look, there's Nate! Go!" She gave Jenny a shove in that direction and waved goodbye, giving her one last thumb's up for good luck before turning away.
"Hey, Nate," Jenny began, praying to God that he would remember who she was so that she wouldn't have to transfer schools in humiliation.
"Jenny!" Jenny felt like she couldn't breathe as he enveloped her in a hug, surrounding her with his toned, tanned arms. He pulled away, giving her a playful smile. "May I just say that your uniform brings out your gorgeous blue eyes?" Jenny laughed, recalling the advice he had given her at the cookout at Penelope's. All you have to do is give everyone lots of ridiculously nice compliments, and you'll be golden, he'd told her, and it had actually worked. She'd given out dozens of outrageous compliments in order to make conversation with many of the snotty Upper East Side families.
"Why thank you, Nathaniel," she responded, drawing out his name in an imitation of Chuck. She twirled around to show off just how good her uniform looked on her, and her plaid skirt flew up a little at the edges. "As does yours." It was true. His ocean eyes were twinkling and looked more inviting than ever. She could get lost in those eyes as easily as she could get lost in the actual ocean, just a tiny dot of a girl surrounded by water in every direction.
"So are you pumped for your first day of high school?" he asked her.
"I'm mostly just hoping I don't do anything to mortify myself enough to last me the next four years."
"Like what?"
"Like…I don't know. Face plant after tripping up the stairs or in the hallway. Spill my lunch all over myself. Walk into one of the fancy columns in the courtyard and get a huge bruise on my forehead to prove it." Nate shook his head and laughed at her imagined scenarios.
"Well, I'd beat up anybody who made fun of you."
"Aw, thanks Nate."
"But not before getting a good laugh myself, of course."
"Hey!" They were both laughing now, their blond heads bobbing up and down so close together that Jenny could smell Nate's cologne. "I take back my gratitude!" she declared in mock-anger while still giggling.
"Alright," Nate said in defeat. "I would try my absolute best not to laugh. Good enough?"
"I suppose," Jenny sighed. "Oh!" she suddenly shouted. "I almost forgot! I have something to tell you."
"What?"
"It was snails at the cookout! You were right!" Nate's face morphed into a cross between disgust and amusement.
"Did you eat them too?"
"Gross! No way I was eating those things! The waiter told me."
"Wish he'd told me," Nate complained, rubbing a hand over his stomach. "I felt sick later that night." He shrugged his shoulders. "Guess that's what I get for eating anything that I'm told tastes like chicken." Jenny laughed.
"Well, I wish he had told you regardless." Both blonds jumped as they heard the warning bell signaling that it was time to start heading to class. "Well, I guess we should get going," said Jenny as Nate dug around in his messenger bag.
"Here." He offered her a piece of paper on which he scribbled a set of numbers. "My phone number. Text me all about your first day, especially anything embarrassing!"
"You mean for you to not laugh at?" Jenny raised her eyebrows, and Nate flashed her a grin that nearly blinded her with all its sparkling whiteness.
"Right! Catch you later, Jen!" They headed their separate ways, Jenny to biology and Nate to trig, where he knew Chuck would be waiting, but neither could focus on their respective subjects when they were busy day dreaming about one another.
Jenny wasn't the only one having difficulty focusing. I was consumed with thoughts of Dan, and from the looks on Blair's face, it was pretty apparent that she wasn't hearing a word Mrs. Lake was saying either. I attempted to listen to the discussion we were having on our summer reading book, Pride and Prejudice. Well, the discussion Mrs. Lake and Nelly Yuki were having. The remainder of the class was fighting to keep their eyes open, staring into space, or texting. Nelly was currently describing the reasons behind her extreme abhorrence of Mr. Darcy and her thick-rimmed glasses were slipping down her little nose as she spoke.
"He is extremely full of himself and makes no secret of it. Women throw themselves at him, because he's both rich and handsome, but he's critical of all of them, and the list that he and Caroline Bingley compose of the qualities a successful woman needs to possess is absolutely ridiculous, idealistic, and insulting, far more sexist than Elizabeth's comment that she doesn't believe such a woman exists. Besides, Mr. Darcy admits that he hates people anyway, so I doubt such a woman would be good enough even if she did exist. Honestly, I had a tough time believing he could love anyone at all. He just didn't seem capable."
"You're wrong." I (and everyone else in the class) turned toward the confident, recognizable voice. It was Blair, apparently pulled out of her dreams by Nelly's remarks.
"What is that supposed to mean, Blair?" asked Nelly, because she was admittedly afraid of Blair everywhere except the classroom, and she had no qualms about getting into a battle of intellect with her. "It was an opinion. How can I be wrong?"
"Well, your opinion of Mr. Darcy is wrong."
"Care to expand on your views, Blair?" This time, it was Mrs. Lake asking the question.
"Early on, Elizabeth accuses Mr. Darcy of having a defect that causes him to hate people, and he replies that hers is to misunderstand them. And she does misunderstand him at first. She sees him the way that everyone else does – rich and handsome but so disagreeable and rude and proud that his looks and wealth are worthless. And, yes, he is all of those things, but Nelly, don't you understand? It's called Pride and Prejudice, and you let yourself become prejudiced against Darcy, letting those qualities overshadow the more important aspects of his character, the parts of him that are at the core rather than at the surface. First of all, he is fiercely loyal to his best friend. He always looks out for Bingley, and he would do anything for him. Second, in Chapter 12, Darcy resolves not to speak to Elizabeth or let himself admire her, because he's afraid of the way she makes him feel. He's afraid of the possibility that he could be falling for her. But eventually he learns that he can't suppress the love he feels, and he does extremely generous things for her and her family even after she rejects him. Because, Nelly, I don't believe there's a human on earth that's incapable of love. And while sometimes people are more guided by their capacity to hate, that doesn't mean they've lost the ability to love someone. It never goes away. It just takes some people longer to find it, and Darcy is an example of that." The entire room was stunned into silence. Not a sound was heard until Nelly's glasses finally fell off the bridge of her nose and clattered resoundingly onto the floor. Mrs. Lake quickly began speaking after the silence was broken.
"Those were some very interesting observations, Blair. Your character analysis of Mr. Darcy was quite original, and I have to say, I'm impressed." The rest of us were impressed as well, but we were also left wondering if it was even Mr. Darcy that Blair had been talking about and defending so passionately.
A/N 3: Sooooo how was it? And I'm not just talking about the one scene, though I do want to hear about that too! But there was a lot that went on in this chapter, so I'd love a lot of feedback to go with it!
A/N 4: FYI, the next chapter will probably be set after school, and I think it may just be the big reveal of Blair's secret. Because while she went on about being honest with Chuck in this one, she's going to realize that she's not really being entirely truthful...
A/N 5: And finally, I realized that I probably won't have to decide about Georgina for another few chapters, so yay for putting off decisions until the last possible moment! Thanks to all of you who had input on the subject - because of you all, I'm leaning towards having her make a brief appearance, but trust me, there would be no romancing going on with Chuck!
Thanks again to all who take the time to review! I appreciate it so much!
