wing or caring where he was
headed。 Thinking with his balls was totally overrated。 All he really needed was to talk to someone
who actually cared about him； someone who knew him better than anyone。 The problem was； that
person had just thrown a pair of shoes at his head。
He stopped in his tracks and looked up at the tall stone building in front of him at Eighty…first
and Fifth Avenue； almost across from the Metropolitan Museum of Art。 His feet had led him right
to Serena？s doorstep。 As he stared up at the gauzy； white curtains covering the windows of the
top…floor apartment； Nate wondered if she was home。 He walked into the lobby and raised his
hand to the doorman； who smiled and waved him through。
As he rode up in the wood…paneled elevator； Nate wasn？t sure what he would say to Serena if she
evenwas home。 All he wanted was to chill for a while and forget everything that had just happened
in the last torturous hour； but knowing Blair； she？d probably already told Serena the news。 He
strode purposefully to the van der Woodsens？ door and knocked。
Serena opened the door to her apartment almost instantly； as if she？d been waiting for him。 She
was wearing a crisp white cotton dress； like she was about to go play tennis； except that her golden
hair was messily piled on top of her head with a paintbrush sticking through it。 ？Hey。？ Nate
grinned。 ？Want to hang out for a while？？ She smiled slowly； then opened the door wide； grabbing
his T…shirt and pulling him inside。
A few minutes later they sat cross…legged on the floor by the edge of her frilly white bed； the
leather photo album spread out in front of them。 Serena leaned forward to turn to a new p