Gossip Girl: A Novel

A power lunch

"The invitations, the gift bags, and the champagne. That's all we have left to do," Blair said. She lifted a cucumber slice off her plate and nibbled at it thoughtfully. "Kate Spade is still doing the gift bags, but I don't know—do you think Kate Spade is too boring?"
"I think Kate Spade is perfect," Isabel said, winding her dark hair into a knot on top of her head. "I mean, think how cool it is to have a plain black handbag now instead of all those animal prints and military shit everyone has. It's all such . . . bad taste, don't you think?"

Blair nodded. "Completely," she agreed.

"Hey, what about my leopard skin coat?" Kati said, looking hurt.

"Yes, but that's real leopard skin," Blair argued. "That's different."

The three girls were sitting in the Constance cafeteria, discussing the upcoming Kiss on the Lips benefit to raise money for the Central Park Peregrine Falcon Foundation. Blair was chair of the organizing committee, of course.

"Those poor birds," Blair sighed.

As if she could give two shits about the damned birds.

"I really want this party to be good," she said. "You guys are coming to my meeting tomorrow, right?"

"Of course we're coming," Isabel said. "What about Serena—did you tell her about the party? Is she going to help?"

Blair stared blankly back at her.

Kati wrinkled her pert little ski-jump nose and nudged Isabel with her elbow. "I bet Serena is too busy, you know, dealing with everything. All her problems. She probably doesn't have time to help us, anyway," she said, smirking.

Blair shrugged. Across the cafeteria, Serena herself was just joining the lunch line. Shenoticed Blair right away and smiled, waving cheerfully as if to say, "I'll be there in a minute!" Blair blinked, pretending she'd forgotten to put in her contacts.

Serena slid her tray along the metal counter, choosing a lemon yogurt and skipping all the hot lunch selections until she came to the hot-water dispenser, where she filled up a cup with hot water and placed a Lipton tea bag, a slice of lemon, and a packet of sugar on the saucer. Then she carried her tray over to the salad bar, where she filled up a plate with a pile of romaine lettuce and poured a small puddle of bleu cheese dressing beside it. She would have preferred a toasted ham-and-cheese sandwich in the Gare du Nord in Paris, eaten in a hurry before leaping onto her London train, but this was almost as good. It was the same lunch she'd eaten at Constance every day since sixth grade. Blair always got the same thing too. They called it the "diet plate."

Blair watched as Serena got her salad, dreading the moment when Serena would sit down next to her in all her glory and start trying to be friends again. Ugh.

"Hey guys," Serena said, sitting down next to Blair, smiling radiantly. "Just like old times, huh?"

She laughed and peeled back the top of her yogurt. The cuffs of her brother's old shirt were frayed, and stray threads dangled in the yogurt's watery whey.

"Hello, Serena," Kati and Isabel said in unison.

Blair looked up at Serena and turned the corners of her glossy lips upwards. It was almost a smile.

Serena stirred the yogurt up and nodded at Blair's tray, where the remains of her bagel with cream cheese and cucumber were strewn. "I guess you outgrew the diet plate," she observed.

"I guess," Blair said. She smashed a lump of cream cheese into her paper napkin with her thumb, staring at Serena's sloppy cuffs in bewilderment. It was fine to wear your brother's old clothes in ninth and tenth grade.  Then, it was cool. But now? It just seemed . . . dirty.