worker bee needs to refresh her makeup； recharge her laptop battery； and pack up for a little road
trip。 。 。 。
You know you love me。
gossip girl
d； hot and bothered again
？Davey； Humphrey； Bogart； whatever your name is； speed it up。？
All the managers at the Strand had the same authoritative bark that never failed to make Dan
stand up a little straighter。 He looked left and right but couldn？t tell where the mand had e
from。
？You waiting for an engraved invitation； madam？？ Phil； a balding； failed Ph。D。 candidate who
loved to make the afternoon shifts hell； popped his head around an old rusty metal shelf。
？Asshole；？ Dan muttered as he pushed the groaning cart of to…be…shelved books。
Sensitive much？
The cracked rubber wheels squeaked and clacked as Dan pushed the rickety cart down the long；
narrow aisle； past the outdated travel guides。 He took a deep breath； immersing himself in the
familiar rhythm of picking up a book； determining the last name of the author； and locating its spot
on the shelf。 It was a sure way to let his subconscious speak to him：
？
Hairy kiss？burn my chin
The sick taste of absinthe in my throat
Deep in my gullet； sore lips and
Punches in the gut
Blind corners turned and now I am nowhere。。。。
？
His poetic free association was interrupted when an over…size book slipped off his cart。 He bent
over to pick it up； reading the title：Everything You？ve Always Wanted to Know （Go Ahead； Admit
It！） About Gay Sex by Melvin Lloyd and Dr。 Stephen Furman。
The line drawing on the glossy cover showed two male forms embracing chastely。 Like brothers。
Or baseball players after a game。 Totally normal。 Glancing around to see if any…one was near？as
usual； no one was interested in the travel guides to New Zealand published in the 1970s？Dan
opened the book； whistling all casual…like。
Nice try。
The slick pages slipped through his fingers； revealing more line drawings of two muscular
fellows in various embraces； arms and tongues positioned here and there。 There were a number of
bullet points and lists of dos and don？ts。 He skimmed the book； heart pounding； taking in only
snatches of phrases like ？Insert your tongue？ and ？Some partners find the use of an elbow helpful？
and ？Remember to brush your teeth。？
Pausing again to make sure that he was alone； Dan skipped ahead to the back of the book； where
the heavier paper stock meant only one thing： photographs。 And there they were； in full…color
glory： two men； performing what at first glance looked like a gymnastic routine。
Dan？s throat suddenly felt very dry。 He slammed the book shut and stuffed it on the very bottom
of his pile。 He？d never needed a cigarette this badly in his life。
Breathe； breathe。
Shaking slightly； Dan inhaled deeply on a beloved Camel and stepped away from the Strand。 He
needed a walk to purge his mind of the mental images of those two thick…necked wrestler types in
unimaginable poses。 Not that he had any kind of problem with gay people； of course。They？re here；
they？re queer； it？s awesome。 But there were some things that people just weren？t meant to do with
their bodies。 Like running。 And yoga。 And 。 。 。 whatever it was you called the thing he had just
seen depicted in that book。
Yoga。 He？d had a brush with that stuff？that was the closest he？d e to contorting his body into
a shape resembling what the guys in the book were doing； and he was not eager to get into that
particular position again anytime soon。 The only reason he？d bothered with yoga in the first place
had been for a girl。 He？d been so crazed over Bree he？d experimented with all kinds of insane
things： yoga； running； organic fruit juice。 Maybe the same thing was happening with Greg？ He？d
never really met anyone who loved books as much as he did。 Maybe he was just getting
everything all mixed up？ Maybe it was just like his dad had said and he was just transferring his
passion for books onto their friendship？
Yup？like quasi…gay father； like quasi…gay son。
Dodging the summer tourist sidewalk traffic； Dan stubbed out his cigarette and stuffed his hands
deep into the pockets of his fraying brown cords。You can？t be gay。 The image of Bree naked and
glistening with sweat in that overheated yoga studio came to him； and suddenly he felt a little out
of breath。 A little dizzy。 What was this sensation？ It felt familiar and alien all at once。 And he felt
something else too？ a boner。 In full daylight； like a little kid。 Looking down at it； he couldn？t help
but smile。 It was the best boner he？d ever had！ The thought of Bree； her bare skin damp with
sweat as she arched her back and planted her palms on the floor； was what sent his heart racing。
He lit another cigarette to celebrate the fact that he had biological evidence to prove that he； Dan
Humphrey； was most certainly not gay。 He had to keep himself from jumping in the air to click his
heels together。
Oh； andthat？s not gay at all。
the ghost of high school past
？Girls！ There are girls here！？ yelled a guy Serena didn？t recognize。 He lurched down the stone
steps from the foyer to the driveway； clutching one of her mother？s antique crystal champagne
flutes。 He raised the glass in salute as she stepped out of the Aston Martin； sloshing champagne all
over the stone steps。
？Dude； that？s my sister。？ Erik van der Woodsen pushed the staggering guy out of his way and
raced toward Serena。 He wore a rumpled blue gingham oxford； top three buttons undone； and
khakis that had started to fray at the cuffs。 His pale blond hair was mussed and his huge blue eyes
were bloodshot； but he was as handsome as ever。 ？Howdy； sis。？
？Got the party started； I see。？ Serena hugged her brother excitedly。 ？In case you forgot； my
birthday？s not till tomorrow。？
？You only turn eighteen once。？ He threw his arms around her and lifted her off her feet
easily。 ？Happy almost birthday。？
？This is for me？？ Serena asked； a smile spreading across her face。 Okay； so it wasn？texactly her
idea of a birthday party； but it was sweet that her brother had remembered。 Even if it was probably
just a convenient excuse for a blowout。
Probably？
Behind her； Blair and Nate shuffled out of the backseat。 Serena had volunteered to drive since
she knew how to get here the best； and Blair couldn？t drive stick； but did they really have to ride
in the backseat togetheragain？ What was she； the chauffeur？
Kind of looks that way。
？What？s up； guys？？ Erik greeted them。
？Hey。？ Nate nodded at Erik。 ？Good call on the party。 I almost forgot that tomorrow？s your
birthday；？ he said； turning to Serena。
Blair slipped her hand into her best friend？s。 ？What？s an appropriate afternoon cocktail； birthday
girl？？
Is there one that？snot appropriate？
The scene by the pool was like something out of a screw…ball college edy。 A gaggle of
obviously drunk guys in board shorts cannonballed into the water； splashing their buddies seated
nearby。 A crowd lingered near the double…height French doors that led to the library？and the
well…stocked bar。 And there were so few girls in evidence？a couple stretched out on chaises near
the diving board and a trio of giggling girls attempting some kind of drinking game？that wherever
they congregated； a drooling group of boys was not far off。 Someone had rigged an iPod to the van
der Woodsens？ stereo system； and the insistent thrum of the new Arctic Monkeys album filled the
air。
？This is finally starting to feel like summer vacation。？ Blair slipped her feet out of her white
leather Prada flip…flops and propped them on the edge of the wrought…iron garden table。 She
swirled the ice in her Bloody Mary distractedly。
？Something like that。？ Serena leaned back in the unfortable chair and scanned the crowd that
had gathered； supposedly； for her birthday celebration。 The guys outnumbered the girls by a ratio
of about ten million to one； and though she recognized some of them？Erik？s old tennis teammates；
his roommate at Brown？she didn？t see many familiar faces in the crowd。 She might be the
birthday girl； but she wondered i