rine of homemade pat？ and the heirloom…tomato…and…orzo salad to grab a
bottle of Lorina orangeade。 It had always been his favorite when he was a kid； but for some reason
they only ever had it when they were out in East Hampton； so he associated the light； fizzy taste
with the carefree summers of his childhood； when he？d hosted out…rageous skinny…dipping pool
parties and cleaned out his par…ents？ wine cellar。
Those were the days； he thought to himself as he made his way into his bedroom。 There？d been
nothing to worry about except whether it would be sunny enough to spend the afternoon at the
beach； or if he was high enough； or if he？d ever manage to hook up with Blair。
These days life was so much more plicated。 Even though it was summer vacation； Nate was
stressed out about a bunch of stuff： what Tawny？s townie buddies would do to him if he ever ran
into them without Tawny； what he would say to Blair when he saw her at Yale； whether what
Chuck Bass had told him about her was true。
Clutching the open bottle； Nate collapsed into his soft； unmade bed with a groan。 He closed his
eyes and tried to clear his head； but there was one person he couldn？t stop picturing。
Guess who？
Suddenly he wished he hadn？t returned the moss green cashmere V…neck Blair had given him the
spring before last when her dad took them skiing in Sun Valley。 He？d put it on； close his eyes； and
remember simpler times； when he and Blair were together and all seemed right with the world。
Because； except for those times when he？d pissed her off by saying the wrong thing or getting
baked and flaking out on plans； being with Blair？ however difficult she was？made Nate feel