Dan Humphrey, age 17, writer. Poet. Intellectual. Second in his class.
And for all that did she even know who he was? Did she have any idea how he stares at while she waits to meet up with her best friend after school? How he would walk eight blocks during lunch just to catch a glimpse of her on the MET steps? How he wrote endless stories about her. Most of them crap. But some of them… sweet.
At least she would later think so.
What brings him up and what crushes him down again. This golden goddess that freezes him every time he sees her, why was it his first inclination always to become invisible?
She walks by with that signature Serena stride, graceful and strong. Don't stare.
What brought him to The Palace he often thought was a naïve hope or reckless abandonment. Under age, that's okay. Keep walking. She hit him as she always did. He was stunned, but this time because of an actual collision. He dropped to his knees to help her collect her things off the ground. But in her rushed she left her cellphone in the care of this… Dan Humphrey.
And being Dan Humphrey, while never would he ever admit to such an antiquated fool, he was chivalrous and decided to return to phone. And being chivalrous, he didn't even poke around her messages, though he desperately wondered what she had in common with that dreadful Blair Waldorf.
In the morning he did as he always did, he did the right thing. He returned the phone, messages unchecked, pictures unprodded. And what did he get for his virtuous intentions? An interrogation, from an ex-marine doorman, Dexter. He, who was more like Dan than anyone else in this upscale environment, looked down on him like an urchin of the streets.
But she saw the phone as Dan was caught off guard. She was far more thankful, and far more courteous than he would have expected. She did as she had always done to Dan. She stunned him and drove his senses from his control. And before he knew it he was on a date with her. He wasn't ready! You can't just throw a man into a pool of ice. You have to ease him into it. Abort. Abort!
His chest deflated as the air left his lungs. His hands still. At least that much of him was under control. But for how long? How long until he sees her and freezes up like he always does. Or worse yet, stares to ramble. How could he not make a fool of himself?
Don't choke. Don't choke.
Don't Choke
He woke up after her. Most days he does. He rolled himself out of bed and onto the cold hardwood floor. Some days his body just did not want to start. He got up and made his way into the bathroom. There she was, her hair in a ponytail, standing there only in her boy shorts and her pink tank top that she wore to bed the night previous. She watched the mirror as she applied her lipstick.
He slapped her butt as he walked into the bathroom. Her instinct was to smile but her anger led her to smack his chest with her other hand as he approached the shower. She pushed him but as he moved back her hand slid across to his shoulder and then to his wrist and pulled him back and wrapped them around her as she kiss him. Good morning.
Her lips curled up into a glowing glee. He could feel the contours of her smiling lips upon his.
She released him and told him to shower.
He wetted his hair and he rinsed his face. Her voice came from the other side of the shower door "Are you ready for tonight?"
"You know I don't like interviews." He said as he shampooed his hair.
"I never understood that." She replied.
"You never stop talking." She said again, but this time her voice was a lot closer.
He turned, stunned, as she had always done to him. Standing in the shower she leaned forward and held onto his shoulders and whispered, "Don't choke."
His head raced around a couple of laps before he made the connection. "You read it?"
"Yeah I found it at the bottom of a box while organizing your desk." She said as her hands traveled down his arms and around to his back.
"That was a long time ago." He said as his hands swept across her tank top, painting it with water wherever they went.
"Most of it wasn't that good. But some of it was… sweet." She said as she lost her breath for a moment as his hands traveled underneath the fabric and up her back.
She lifted her arms and he took off her tank and kissed her on the neck. Her eyes closed and her breath became heavy.
"At least I thought so."