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The terrace door slid open and her stepbrother; Aaron Rose; stepped outside; carrying Yale on his hip and a glass of champagne in one hand。 Aaron was a senior at Harvard; insisted on wearing his hair in little brown dreadlocks; and had spent all of last year on a study…abroad program in Burkina Faso。 Now; starry…eyed at the notion of making a difference in third…world countries; he was in the process of applying to the Peace Corps to an even more remote third…world country。
“Hey sis!” Aaron said cheerfully; taking a large swig of champagne as he set Yale down。 Yale had large blue eyes; dark brown hair tied back with a dark red ribbon; and wore a green velvet Bonpoint party dress。 Blair grinned。 She was fucking adorable。
The second ing of Blair Waldorf?
“Let’s go inside—it’s cold!” she said; holding her hand out to her baby sister。 Blair wasn’t exactly the maternal type; but the almost…four…year…old was impossible to resist。
“No!” Yale stomped her foot indignantly。 “I don’t like anyone in there;” she whined as she intertwined her sticky fingers in Blair’s manicured ones。 Aaron burst out laughing。
Blair picked up Yale; inhaling the scent of her baby shampoo。 “Don’t worry; Yaley; I don’t like anyone either。”
Together; Blair and Yale swept through the sliding door of the terrace and into the expansive living room。 Eleanor hadn’t begun decorating yet; so the entire room was empty save for a large Douglas fir that skimmed the vaulted cathedral ceiling。 In a way; the room looked more impressive without furniture。 The white moldings of the ceiling contrasted with the dark oak of the window ledges; and the art deco chandelier cast a romantic glow against the cherrywood floors。
“Blair; darling!” Misty Bass caught Blair’s elbow。 She was an imperious…looking woman with a crisp blond bob who never left the house without first putting on a large amount of jewelry。
“You know; darling; seeing you with your adorable baby sister makes me imagine you as a mother;” Misty said; leaning in close。 Blair practically recoiled from the scent of her spicy perfume。 “I know both your mom and I would love grandchildren! After the wedding; of course;” she added sternly。
Blair smiled tightly。 Who said anything about marriage? She and Chuck had been dating for over a year; and they’d spent the entire summer at her dad’s South of France vineyard; but they’d been separated by the Atlantic Ocean for the past three months。 Besides; what was this; 1952? She was going to get a job after graduation; not an entryway ring。
“Blair!” Yale whispered urgently; tugging on Blair’s hand。 “I have to pee。”
“Looks like you need to attend to the little one!” Misty reached out to ruffle Yale’s hair。
“Ow!” Yale yelped loudly。
“Oh。” Misty drew her hand back and pursed her lips as if she’d sucked on a lemon。 “I’m sorry; little dear。”
“Nice to see you!” Blair called over her shoulder as she ran Yale toward the nursery。 “Good job;” she whispered in Yale’s ear as she brushed past guests。 “I owe you a pony。”
Sounds like she’ll make a fine mother。
Once Yale was safely deposited in the arms of her nanny; Bridget; Blair reentered the party; determined to avoid Misty for the rest of the night。 She scanned the room to see if any of her old friends had tagged along with their parents。 Last she’d heard; Nate was attending Brown and shacking up with Jenny Humphrey。 She saw Serena on campus often enough; usually talking on her cell or walking quickly across the quad; latte in hand。 She’d never said hello。 She’d almost gotten to the point where Serena could be anyone on campus—like Emily; an annoying red…haired girl in Blair’s Shakespeare class who read each line as if she were a member of the Royal National Theater。 Serena was just a vaguely familiar; vaguely annoying face who had nothing to do with Blair’s real life。
“Blair; darling! Over here!” Her mother’s unmistakable voice floated over the string quartet playing holiday music in the corner。 At the entryway; Eleanor Waldorf waved frantically; her Cartier tennis bracelets jangling on her wrist。 She wore a silver; cleavage…baring dress that might have been acceptable for a party at a producer’s house in the Hollywood Hills but was pletely inappropriate for New York; even if it was on the Upper West Side。 “Look who’s here;” Eleanor crowed。 Blair’s eyes flicked to her mother’s side and landed on Serena。
Serena; wearing a tight red Catherine Malandrino dress; squeezed Eleanor around the waist as if they were long…lost bosom buddies。 Her hair was impossibly long and shiny; her skin glowing and tanned; as if she’d just returned from a sun…drenched Maldives vacation。
Blair set her mouth in a firm line and marched over to them。
“My two favorite girls!” Eleanor said fondly; pathetically unaware anything was amiss between them。 “I was just telling Serena how terrific it is that you two have had each other all these years。 I felt good moving to California knowing Serena was in New York for you to e home to。” Eleanor rested her hand on Blair’s shoulder。
Blair hadn’t told her mom she and Serena hadn’t even spoken this past year; how every time they saw each other they managed to have an enormous fight; how Serena was like some bloodsucking leech; desperate to take everything of Blair’s and literally ruin her life。
“I feel the same way; Eleanor;” Serena said sweetly; knowing it was what Blair’s mom wanted to hear。 “I like knowing Blair’s at Yale; even though I hardly see her。 She’s so busy with pre…law and everything。” In truth; she didn’t know if Blair even was a political science major with a concentration in pre…law anymore。 She sometimes saw Blair around campus; striding across the lawn with a group of girls or her advisor。 Blair always looked so confident and capable and in control; like a picture torn out of a Yale catalog。
Meanwhile; Yale still felt like a holding place for Serena。 While she knew a lot of people; she hadn’t made any real friends; especially since she spent every weekend with Dan in the city。 It felt like she spent Monday through Thursday waiting for the weekends and her real life to begin。
“What are you majoring in; dear?’ Eleanor asked; plucking a mini quiche off a passing tray。 “Do you have any idea what you’ll be doing after college?”
“I don’t know。 I th
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