Things I don't own: a fulfilling social life, my own car, and Gossip Girl. Of course.
"So what you're saying," Blair Waldorf drawled, a lecherous smile contorting her delicate features, "is that you still havent bagged the Bass?"
Serena Van der Woodsen sighed in a way she meant to seem uncommitted. "No, Blair. I told you, Chuck - I mean we want our first time to be special."
The two girls were sitting on the luxurious king size bed in Blair's suite at the Palace, the hotel the Waldorfs a prominent, if nouveau-riche family owned. The blinds were closed to the headache-inducing (if you were stoned) light of late morning in the Upper East Side, and the two were currently smoking fat joints, the smoke curling in intricate spirals around them. It was mostly out of habit that the towels were stuck underneath the door leading to the outside hallway. Neither of the two's parents were particularly er, parental, for lack of a better term.
Blair took another drag from the roll of pot she was smoking, blowing complex rings into the air. "All I'm saying, Serena, is that you guys have been dating since what, kindergarten now?"
She paused, seeking confirmation from the blonde, who nodded curtly, obviously not liking where the conversation was going.
Blair shook her head, chuckling, "Jeesh, he must give good head, because if I were you I wouldve dumped his ass ages ago. Especially with the fine caboose on that certain guy he hangs out with whose name begins with 'N' and ends in 'delicious.' Wait, I guess hes not around, is he? Still off in that boarding school in Connecticut, I suppose?" Blair's wide eyes drifted nonchalantly toward Serenas willowy form.
Serena widened her eyes in a way she hoped was innocent and shrugged, "I guess so, B. Why are you asking me?" She let a touch of annoyance seep through her tone. There was something not quite so innocent about Blair's querie.
Blair continued to eye Serena as a falcon would her prey, seeming to be wary of weakness or a slip in demeanour. "I don't know, weren't you guys close?" She looked away finally, eying her nails, but Serena could tell that she was going to be listening carefully to her reply.
Blair had been making cryptic comments like this since the Shepherd wedding. But she couldnt possibly know what had happened, could she? Serena cleared her throat, making it seem as if she was about to reply, but let her gaze fasten on the watch around her perfectly tanned wrist. "Oh my God, B. Look at the time! My fathers been waiting for more than half an hour for our run. Shit, hes gonna be pissed. This is the second time this week."
Blair narrowed her eyes, making them seem more cat-like than Michelle Pfeiffer and Halle Berry (bless their souls) could ever have hoped to. "You didnt seem too concerned about the ramifications of being late before you lit up with my thousand-bucks per pop weed."
"Look, Im sorry Blair. Ill make it up to you later, okay? You're going to Chucks party later, right? I'll see you then." Serena's smile had never failed to soothe Blairs temper before, and she hoped that it would work again in this case.
She breathed a breath of relief - and pot - when Blair settled back into her plush pile of pillows and smirked in a way that had undoubtedly been featured in myriad St. Jude boys wet dreams. "Yeah, I'll be there. I hear there'll be some new fellas there. This kitty's - and her kitty - have gotten tired of the same old tricks, if you know what I mean."
Serena chuckled and shook her head indulgently. At least Blair wasn't so mad that her sense of humour was compromised. That was always a good sign. "I'll call you," she called breezily over her shoulder, hurrying out the door and kicking it shut behind her.
Alright, she hadn't really been late for her father. In fact, she had another forty-five minutes to kill. The truth was that lately Blair had a way of making her feel... uncomfortable. Part of it was that she kept making comments about her sexual experience, or rather, lack thereof; in particular to her lack her sexual experience with her boyfriend, Chuck Bass.
It wasn't that Chuck wasn't attractive. He was; it was just that if she were to 'seal the deal' or 'tap that ass,' as Blair had so charmingly put it, she would be faced with guilt, and a lot of it at that. That was the major part of why Serena had been so reluctant to hang out with her best friend. She seemed to know exactly what the source of that guilt was.
Serena took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she waited for the elevator to reach her. If Blair knew, who else did?
As the door to the elevator slid open, the telltale ping of her cell phone alerted her to a new message from Gossip Girl.
Good morning Upper East Siders,
Oh, what a delicious morning, the scent of croissants, prada leather, and whats that - scandal? I have it on good authority that a certain blonde-haired, blue-eyed heartthrob just landed on the streets of our fair city. Not to go all Shakespearean - or is that Old Testament - on you, my loyal readers, but the prodigal son returns from his stint in Connecticut. Something tells me that N's return will cause quite the stir in these parts.
XOXO,
Gossip Girl
Blair Waldorf snapped her phone shut and looked up at herself in the mirror. Her dark eyes sparkled despite her drug-induced high. Yes, something did tell her that Nate's return would cause quite the splash. Good. Things were getting a little too dull around here for her taste.