Gossip Girl: A Novel

S is back!

"Hello, hello, hello!" Blair's mother crowed, kissing the smooth, hollow cheeks of each van der Woodsen.

Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss!

"I know you weren't expecting Serena, dear," Mrs. van der Woodsen whispered in a concerned, confidential tone. "I hope it's all right."

"Of course. Yes, it's fine," Mrs. Waldorf said. "Did you come home for the weekend, Serena?"

Serena van der Woodsen shook her head and handed her vintage Burberry coat to Esther, the maid. She pushed a stray blond hair behind her ear and smiled at her hostess.

When Serena smiled, she used her eyes—those dark, almost navy blue eyes. It was the kind of smile you might try to imitate, posing in the bathroom mirror like an idiot. The magnetic, delicious, "you can't stop looking at me, can you?" smile supermodels spend years perfecting. Well, Serena smiled that way without even trying.

"No, I'm here to—" Serena started to say.

Serena's mother interrupted hastily. "Serena has decided that boarding school is not for her," she announced, patting her hair casually, as if it were no big deal. She was the middle-aged version of utter coolness.

The whole van der Woodsen family was like that. They were all tall, blond, thin, and super-poised, and they never did anything—play tennis, hail a cab, eat spaghetti, go to the toilet—without maintaining their cool. Serena especially. She was gifted with the kind of coolness that you can't acquire by buying the right handbag or the right pair of jeans. She was the girl every boy wants and every girl wants to be.

"Serena will be back at Constance tomorrow," Mr. van der Woodsen said, glancing at his daughter with steely blue eyes and an owl-like mixture of pride and disapproval that made him look scarier than he really was.

"Well, Serena. You look lovely, dear. Blair will be thrilled to see you," Blair's mother trilled.

"You're one to talk," Serena said, hugging her. "Look how skinny you are! And the house looks so fantastic. Wow. You've got some awesome art!"

Mrs. Waldorf smiled, obviously pleased, and wrapped her arm around Serena's long, slender waist. "Darling, I'd like you to meet my special friend, Cyrus Rose," she said. "Cyrus, this is Serena."

"Stunning," Cyrus Rose boomed. He kissed Serena on both cheeks, and hugged her a little too tightly. "She's a good hugger, too," Cyrus added, patting Serena on the hip.

Serena giggled, but she didn't flinch. She'd spent a lot of time in Europe in the past two years, and she was used to being hugged by harmless, horny European gropers who found her completely irresistible. She was a full-on groper magnet.

"Serena and Blair are best, best, best friends," Eleanor Waldorf explained to Cyrus. "But Serena went away to Hanover Academy in eleventh grade and spent this summer traveling. It was so hard for poor Blair with you gone this past year, Serena," Eleanor said, growing misty-eyed. "Especially with the divorce. But you're back now. Blair will be so pleased."

"Where is she?" Serena asked eagerly, her perfect, pale skin glowing pink with the prospect of seeing her old friend again. She stood on tip-toe and craned her head to look for Blair, but she soon found herself surrounded by parents—the Archibalds, the Coateses, the Basses, and Mr. Farkas—who each took turns kissing her and welcoming her back.

Serena hugged them happily. These people were home to her, and she'd been gone a long time. She could hardly wait for life to return to the way it used to be. She and Blair would walk to school together, spend Double Photography in Sheep Meadow in Central Park, lying on their backs, taking pictures of pigeons and clouds, smoking and drinking Coke and feeling like hard-core artistes. They would have cocktails at the Star Lounge in the Tribeca Star Hotel again, which always turned into sleepover parties because they would get too drunk to get home, so they'd spend the night in the suite Chuck Bass's family kept there. They would sit on Blair's four-poster bed and watch Audrey Hepburn movies, wearing vintage lingerie and drinking gin and lime juice. They would cheat on their Latin tests like they always did—amo, amas, amat was still tattooed on the inside of Serena's elbow in permanent marker (thank God for three-quarter length sleeves!). They'd drive around Serena's parents' estate in Ridgefield, Connecticut, in the caretaker's old Buick station wagon, singing the stupid hymns they sang in school and acting like crazy old ladies. They'd pee in the downstairs entrances to their classmates' brownstones and then ring the doorbells and run away. They'd take Blair's little brother, Tyler, to the Lower East Side and leave him there to see how long it took for him to find his way home—a work of charity, really, since Tyler was now the most street-wise boy at St. George's. They'd go out dancing with a huge group and lose ten pounds just from sweating in their leather pants. As if they needed to lose the weight.