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and Seventh Avenue； rendering the invitations useless。 The girls
were in a tight spot。 They had to get a new set of invitations out；
and fast； or there wasn’t going to be a party at all。
“But Takashimaya is the only place to get flowers。 And it really
doesn’t cost much。 Oh； e on； Blair； think how cool they’ll be；”
Tina whined。
“Yes； it does；” Blair insisted。 “And there are plenty of other places to
get flowers。”
“Well； maybe we can ask the peregrine falcon people to pitch in；”
Isabel suggested。 She reached for a French fry； dunked it in
ketchup； and popped it into her mouth。 “They’ve barely done
anything。”
Blair rolled her eyes； and blew into her hot chocolate。 “That’s the
whole point。 We’re raising money for them。 It’s a cause。”
Kati wound a lock of her frizzy blond hair around her finger。 “What
is a peregrine falcon anyway？” she said。 “Is it like a woodpecker？”
“No； I think they’re bigger；” Tina said。 “And they eat other animals；
you know； like rabbits and mice and stuff。”
“Gross；” Kati said。
“I just read a definition of what one was the other day；” Isabel
mused。 “I can’t remember where I saw it。”
GossipGirl； perhaps？
“They’re almost extinct；” Blair added。 She thumbed through the list
of people they were inviting to the party。 There were three hundred
and sixteen all together。 All young people—no parents； thank God。
Blair’s eyes were automatically drawn to a name toward the bottom
of the list： Serena van der Woodsen。 The address given was her
dorm room at Hanover Academy； in New Hampshire。 Blair put the
list back down on the table without correcting Serena’s address。
“We’re going to have to spend the extra money on the printer and
cut corners where we can；” she said quickly。 “I can tell Takashimaya
to use lilies instead of orchids and forget about the peacock
feathers around the rims of the vases。”
“I can do the invitations；” a small； clear voice said from behind
them。 “For free。”
The four girls turned around to see who it was。
Oh look； it’s that little Ginny girl； Blair thought。 The ninth grader
who did the calligraphy in our school hymnals。
“I can do them all by hand tonight and put them in the mail。 The
materials are the only cost； but I know where to get good quality
paper cheap；” Jenny Humphrey said。
“She did all our hymnals at school；” Kati whispered to Tina。 “They
look really good。”
“Yeah；” Isabel agreed。 “They’re pretty cool。”
Jenny blushed and stared at the shiny linoleum floor of the coffee
shop； waiting for Blair to make up her mind。 She knew Blair was the
one who mattered。
“And you’ll do it all for free？” Blair said； suspiciously。
Jenny raised her eyes。 “I was kind of hoping that if I did the invites；
maybe I could e to the party？” she said。
Blair weighed the pros and cons in her mind。 Pros： The invitations
would be unique and best of all； free； so they wouldn’t have to
skimp on the flowers。 Cons： There really weren’t any。
Blair looked the Ginny girl up and down。 Their cute little ninth…grade
helper with the huge chest。 She was a total glutton for punishment；
and she’d be totally out of place at the party 。 。 。 but who cared？
“Sure； you can make yourself an invitation。 Make one for one of
your friends； too；” Blair said； handing the guest list over to Jenny。
How generous。
Blair gave Jenny all the necessary information； and Jenny dashed
out of the coffee shop breathlessly。 The stores would be closing
soon； and she didn’t have much time。 The guest list was longer than
she’d anticipated； and she’d have to stay up all night working on
the invitations； but she was going to the party； that was all that
mattered。
Just wait until she told Dan。 He was going to freak。 And she was
going to make him e with her to the party； whether he liked it
or not。
Two martinis and three rolls of Remi brothers’ film later； Serena
jumped out of a cab in front of Constance and ran up the stairs to
the auditorium； where the interschool play rehearsal had already
begun。 As always； she was half an hour late。
The sound of a Talking Heads song being played jauntily on the
piano drifted down the hallway。 Serena pushed open the auditorium
door to find her old friend； Ralph Bottoms III； singing Burning Down
the South； to the tune of Burning Down the House； with a
pletely straight face。 He was dressed as Rhett Butler； plete
with fake mustache and brass buttons。 Ralph had gained weight in
the last two years； and his face was ruddy； as if he’d been eating
too much rare steak。 He was holding hands with a stocky girl with
curly brown hair and a heart…shaped face—Scarlett O’Hara。 She was
singing too； belting out the words in a thick Brooklyn accent。
Serena leaned against the wall to watch； with a mixture of horror
and fascination。 The scene at the art gallery hadn’t fazed her； but
this—this was scary。
When the song ended； the rest of the Interschool Drama Club
clapped and cheered； and then the drama teacher； an aged English
woman； began to direct the next scene。
“Put your hands on your hips； Scarlett；” she instructed。 “Show me；
show me。 That’s it。 Imagine you’re the teen sensation of the Civil
War South。 You’re breaking all the rules！”
Serena turned to gaze out the window and saw three girls get out of
a cab together on the corner of Ninety…third and Madison。 She
squinted； recognizing Blair； Kati； and Isabel。 Serena hugged herself；
warding off the strange feeling that had been stalking her since
she’d e back to the city。 For the first time in her entire life； she
felt left out。
Without a word to anyone in the drama club—Hello？ Goodbye！—
Serena slipped out of the auditorium and into the hallway outside。
The wall was littered with flyers and notices and she stopped to
read them。 One of the flyers was for Vanessa Abrams’s film tryout。
Knowing Vanessa； the film was going to be very serious and
obscure； but it was better than shouting goofy songs and doing the
Hokey…Pokey with fat； red…faced Ralph Bottoms III。 Vanessa’s tryout
had started an hour ago； on a bench in Madison Square Park； but
maybe it was still going on。 Once again； Serena found herself
running for a cab； headed downtown。
“This is how I want you to do it；” Vanessa told Marjorie Jaffe； a
sophomore at Constance and the only girl who had shown up to try
out for the role of Natasha in Vanessa’s film。 Marjorie had curly red
hair and freckles； a little pug nose； and no neck。 She chewed gum
incessantly； and she was pletely； nightmarishly； wrong for the
part。
The sun was setting； and Madison Square Park was basked in a
pretty pink glow。 The air had the distinct smell of New York in
autumn； a mixture of smoking fireplaces； dried leaves； steaming hot
dogs； dog pee； and bus exhaust。
Daniel was lying on his back on the park bench the way Vanessa
had told him to； a wounded soldier； with his limbs sprawled out
pathetically。 Wounded in war and in love； he was tragically pale and
thin and rumpled…looking。 A little glass crack pipe lay on his chest。
Lucky Vanessa had found it on the street in Williamsburg that
weekend。 It was the perfect prop for her sexily damaged prince。
“I’m going to read Natasha’s lines。 Watch carefully；” she told
Marjorie。 “Okay Dan； let’s go。”
“Haven’t you been asleep？” Vanessa…as…Natasha said； peering at
Dan…as…Prince Andrei。
“No； I have been looking at you for a long time。 I knew by instinct
that you were here。 No one except you gives me such a sense of
gentle restfulness 。 。 。 such light！ I feel like weeping from very joy；”
Dan…as…Prince Andrei said quietly。
Vanessa knelt at his head； her face radiant with solemn delight。
“Natasha； I love you too dearly！ More than all the world！” Dan
gasped； trying to sit up and then sinking back on the bench as if in
pain。
He said he loved her！ Vanessa grabbed his hand； her face flushed
red at the thrill of it。 She was pletely caught up in the moment。
Then she remembered herself； let go of Dan’s hand； and stood up。
“Now your turn；” she told Marjorie。
“ ’K