Only in Your Dreams (Gossip Girl #9)(65)

Blair set her dark head on Serena’s shoulder. “I hope the Hamptons is big enough for all of us.”

Serena squeezed Blair’s knee in response. Blair surveyed the living room. If she blinked, it looked exactly like the party scene in Breakfast at Tiffany’s. She’d dreamed of this moment so many times, she’d lived this moment, in the movie in her head, so many times over that it felt familiar. It felt wonderful.

There were Kati and Isabel, wearing matching black Tocca dresses and trying to hide the fact that they were whispering about Blair and Serena by smiling and waving excitedly. Blair could practically imagine what the two of them were saying about her. There was Chuck Bass, spinning that fluffy, tan blonde around, his bare chest slicked with sweat. Every other person was looking in their direction. Was it Serena or was it Blair who had caught their attention? Did it really matter?

Nope.

The DJ—a frantically sweating guy whom Bailey Winter couldn’t stop ogling—switched the records, and he must have been reading Blair’s mind: the apartment filled with a taut staccato beat, and then a sexy voice sang some very familiar words:

Moon River, wider than a mile . . .

I’ll be crossing you in style, someday.

Dream maker, you heartbreaker . . .

“It’s me!” Serena cried.

“You sound incredible,” Blair told her honestly, clutching Serena’s hand.

In the movie inside her head, this was the perfect closing scene. The music was just right, and the crowd was going wild dancing. An adorable guy was preparing a plate of cold fried chicken for her in his downstairs apartment. Even though it was just an unfurnished dump, the apartment felt totally glamorous. Blair was thrilled. This was her place. This was her party. Sure, the movie might be ending, but really, summer was just beginning.

Disclaimer: All the real names of places, people, and events have been altered or abbreviated to protect the innocent. Namely, me.

hey people!

Oh. My. God. I didn’t think it was possible to have the kind ofhangover I am currently suffering through, but then it’s myown fault: when am I going to learn not to overdo it on thechampagne? Then again, I always have been the life of theparty. And what a party! I’m sure those of you who were luckyenough to be in attendance will agree: the second-biggest,bestest blowout of the summer. Looks like someone is shapingup to be the hostess with the mostest, don’t you think?

mix and match

Dying to know who went home with whom? I’ve got the full dossier:

T is indeed a one-man guy. The second the party ended hegrabbed the first available cab and sped down to the Mercer,where he met up with his secret sweetie. I hear the two ofthem spent the next forty-eight hours ensconced in the honeymoon suite.

That fabulous designer, the one who insists on wearing his mirrored Ray-Ban aviators inside at night, lured that dreamboatDJ back to his manse on Park Avenue, no doubt with the promise of a free outfit from his new menswear line. Wonder if the DJ will be spinning vinyl out in the Hamptons for the restof the summer ...

S went to bed alone. Will wonders never cease?

D and V shared a taxi back to his—um, their place on the Upper West Side, but the romance is officially dead. Separate bedrooms, people. Separate bedrooms.

N was spotted on a very late-night LIRR train out to the island, all alone. So what became of . . .

Trashy bottled-tan-and-bottle-blond girl? She and C kept the party going, hitting the club circuit and ending up at Bungalow 8 at 5 a.m. They still haven’t been heard from.

Want to know why S went to bed alone? Because her roomie was crashed out downstairs. But B was definitely not alone....

if we took a holiday ...

People, let’s not forget that the summer was made for relaxing. July is just around the corner, and by the time Bastille Day rolls around (isn’t that someone’s birthday?) we’ll officially be halfway through the break. There will be plenty of time for work come fall, for midterms and fraternity mixers and worrying about interviewing for the best internships for next summer. This is our time to play, so get down to business and just . . . chill. Oh, who am I kidding? In this town, we never just chill! Okay, maybe N does, but the rest of us never slow down. Speaking of never slowing down . . .

Will B break another heart? She’s already cast aside two suitors, and it’s not even July!

Will S be able to adjust to life without the cameras rolling? Will she share the limelight with B in the Hamptons, or will she go Hollywood and spend the rest of her days with her new BFF T?

Will N make nice with B? Will he go crawling back to S? Or has he finally given up on chasing girls and decided to grow up? And have we heard the last from his little summer fling? Methinks not. After all, he still has lots of work to do on his lax coach’s house....

What about the Hamptons? Will this vacation playland for the rich and famous be big enough for B, S, and N? What about the rest of Manhattan’s elite? The location might be changing, but the stars are character actors—they never really change.

And seriously: what the hell is going on with V and D? Odds are three-to-one they re–hook up by July Fourth. Any gamblers out there?

I’m going to stay on the case and get some answers. It is, after all, my summer job, and I’m the hardest worker I know. Someone’s got to do it.

You know you love me.

gossip girl

Once upon a time on the Upper East Side of New York City, two beautiful girls fell in love with one perfect boy....