Poem of Jealousy
-
I think that man is like a god
Who faces you, and sits by you,
And listens to your gentle words,
And to your silver laughter. But I—
My heart explodes within my breast;
One timid glance, and all my voice is gone,
My tongue breaks, and a subtle flame
Races below my flesh, my eyes
Refuse their sight, my hearing is going,
Cold sweat clings to me, and I shake
From head to toe, my skin the color
Of grass: I am about to die, I think. . . .
-
--Sappho
*
"When exactly will the letters be arriving?" asked Dan. "Tomorrow morning?"
Blair shrugged. "I put Dorota in charge, so they ought to."
"She must be a really great servant for you to express so much confidence in her abilities," Dan smiled ironically.
"No, but she's terrified of me, so she'll carry out my instructions." Blair casually lifted her cappuccino to her lips.
"Aren't you going to eat anything?" Dan demanded, observing her empty tray.
"This cappuccino has milk in it."
"Here," he said, offering half of his peanut butter sandwich.
"Ugh, no," Blair pushed it away. "Get that away from me."
"What's wrong with peanut butter?"
"It's so…plebeian." She wrinkled up her nose.
Dan smirked and took a large bite, smacking his lips loudly and then devouring the rest of the sandwich with gusto.
"You eat like a peasant," said Blair darkly.
"You don't eat at all," Dan rejoined, turning to Serena. "Come on, help me out. We can't let her starve herself."
Serena didn't respond; her nose was buried in a book.
"Are you finished with your salad, S?" asked Blair.
"What? Oh, yeah." Serena absently pushed the salad towards Blair and flipped the page.
"I can't believe you're reading at lunch," said Dan in an incredulous tone.
Serena bristled slightly. "I read plenty," she replied.
"Really? I've never seen—"
"I'm not as dumb as you think I am," she said shortly.
"What?" Dan was taken aback. "Who said you were dumb?"
"Hey guys," came Nate's voice; Dan looked up to see him standing behind Serena; he had apparently brought Eric with them.
"Oh, hey man," he said.
"Sorry I'm late," Nate lowered his bag into a chair. "This girl caused a huge commotion by bursting into tears in the middle of English class."
"Who?" asked Eric suspiciously, sitting down beside his sister.
"I think her name's Penelope. You know, dark hair, dark—"
"What happened exactly?" Eric interrupted.
Nate shrugged. "She got a text message or something; I saw her check her phone, and then she got really upset. She started crying and then ran out of the room."
Eric leaned back in his chair and smirked knowingly.
"What," said Nate, confused, "do you know something about it?"
"It doesn't matter," said Blair, looking up from her salad, "We have more important things to discuss. Do you have it with you?" She said 'it' with special significance.
Nate seated himself by her. He patted his pocket reassuringly.
"Good," she said with a sideways smile. "Good work."
"I aim to please." The two beamed at each other and there was a brief lull in conversation.
Serena keenly observed the interaction between her three friends; it seemed to her that Dan had grown uncomfortable with this silent communion between Nate and Blair, and he hastened to interrupt.
"So are we sure this is all going down tonight?" He asked.
Blair looked away from Nate. "Yes, of course. Why?"
"Has your mom made all the arrangements? Putting together a last-minute party like this can be difficult—"
"I helped," interjected Serena in an annoyed voice. "I even picked the flowers and the stationary, which is weird, because Blair usually loves doing that stuff."
Blair shrugged. "I guess I've had other things on my mind." She took another sip of her cappuccino.
"Don't you think it's amazing," said Nate, still gazing raptly at Blair, "that Gossip Girl hasn't picked up on this yet? I mean, has anyone ever been able to keep this big a bombshell from her for so long?"
"It's certainly one for the ages," Serena muttered darkly, jabbing at a piece of chicken from her salad with her fork.
"Hey," said Blair indignantly, "I thought you said I could eat the salad."
"Fine," Serena threw up her hands, "steal my food. I'm going to the library." She pushed her chair back violently, swung her bag over her shoulder and took off.
"What's up with her?" asked Nate, nonplussed.
"I have no idea," said Dan.
Eric stood up. "I'll go find out," he stated, and followed his sister out of the room.
"You should go after her, too," said Blair to Dan.
"Yeah, man, you should," said Nate a little too eagerly—he seemed to relish the thought of having Blair all to himself.
"I actually have a meeting with my advisor now," replied Dan, checking his watch. "I'll talk to her after class or something."
Dan was gone, and only Blair and Nate were left. Nate was still grinning at her.
"What do you look so happy about?" asked Blair, finishing the salad. "You must be dreading tomorrow morning."
"I think it'll be—interesting, actually," said Nate.
"Interesting," scoffed Blair. "Yes, it certainly will be."
**
When Chuck woke up on Saturday morning he thought it would be an ordinary day. He shook the half-naked girl in his bed awake and asked her to fetch him some coffee—she returned with an espresso and a copy of the Wall Street Journal. He reached into his drawer, withdrew a wad of cash and stuffed it into her palm before nodding dismissively. He checked the stock market. He lit up a cigarette. He waited until it had burned down to the stub before getting out of bed. He dressed himself, slicked back his hair, straightened his tie and left for the office.
Once there he sat behind his desk, turned on his computer.
"Blady," he said offhandedly to his secretary without glancing up at him, "Any mail this morning?"
"Yes sir, I put it on your desk."
He rifled casually through a stack of manila envelopes. There was a smaller envelope towards the bottom that caught his eye; it was smaller than the others, made of a heavy—and expensive—white parchment, with gold edgings. His name was embossed on the front in flowing script. He turned it over, curiously. It was from Cyrus Rose and Eleanor Waldorf Rose. He opened it.
Mr. and Mrs. Rose cordially invite you to an
Engagement Party
Honoring
Blair Waldorf and Nathaniel Archibald
8:00 PM This Evening at the New York Palace Hotel
No RSVP necessary; as the engagement was not announced in advance any and all guests are welcome.
Chuck could literally not believe his eyes. He read it over five times, convinced he had misunderstood. His hands began to shake; he dropped the letter onto the carpet.
"Mr. Bass?" inquired his secretary apprehensively.
It took Chuck several long moments to respond. He was staring at the letter on the carpet, his eyes glassy and unreadable. Finally he lifted his head—he moved in slow motion, like he was under water.
"You can go, Blady," he said in a mechanical voice. "Take the day off."
"What—?"
"Go," Chuck said with finality.
His secretary knew better than to protest further; he exited with as little fuss as possible.
-
Chuck stood still a few minutes, alone in his empty office, still staring down at the letter on the floor.
Then he walked to his desk—his movements laborious and slow, like an old man's—and picked up his phone.
He speed dialed Nate Archibald. The phone rang; it hit voicemail. He dialed the number again, and again—until the ringing echoed in his head long after it had stopped. Then he closed the phone and set it back on his desk.