to stomp in angrily after climbing all those stairs？and in rubber flip…flops； no less？but Serena did
her best； stomping on the wood floor； dropping her oversize white leather Jil Sander duffel without
a thought for the iPod Nano and glass Dolce & Gabbana sunglasses inside。
？You home； roomie？？ Blair called from inside the apartment？s one bedroom； which they？d
decided to share。 They were basically sisters anyway。
They certainly fought like they were。
？Yeah；？ Serena called back。 She grabbed a Corona from the fridge and perched on the
windowsill overlooking the back of the town house； her feet dangling out of the window over the
fire escape。
？How was work？？ Blair strolled into the kitchen wrapped up in a massive white Frette towel
she？d swiped from her mom？s well…stocked linen closet。 She pulled a pack of Merits from
Serena？s abandoned purse and used the gas stove to light one。
？Work was work。？ Serena stared glumly down through the slats of the fire escape at the slate
backyard below。 She sighed。 ？Honestly； Blair； it kind of sucks。？
？What do you mean？？ Blair？s workday had consisted of running fabric samples from the tailor
on Thirty…ninth Street to Bailey Winter？s home； where he was enjoying a ？tea？ party and private
fitting with a Saudi princess。
Blair pushed open the window next to Serena？s and leaned outside。 She exhaled a plume of
smoke into the wind and glanced over at Serena。 The breeze blew her blond hair gently as she
swung her bare feet and frowned。
？I don？t know；？ Serena sighed； chugging her beer。 It had been one of her worst rehearsal days to
date。 She？d overheard some of the crew members calling her Holly Go Slightly； and then Ken had
yelled； ？Fuck； fuck； fuck！？ right in the middle of her scene。 ？It？s been a long day。？
？Tell me everything；？ Blair urged。
Serena hesitated。 They？d never really discussed it； but she knew Blair well enough to know that
she wasn？t exactly thrilled that Serena was starring inBreakfast at Fred？s 。 It was Blair？s lifelong
dream； after all； not Serena？s； how would Blair react to hearing Serena plain about it？
？I？m having some trouble getting this whole acting thing down；？ Serena admitted sheepishly。
That？s an understatement。
？I thought I could do it。 I mean； I did it before； but that was different； without lots of experts and
people running around on set； watching you； and without that big； huge camera just staring at you
like； like 。 。 。 like Darth Vader or something。？
？Tell me more。？ Blair leaned out of the window； exhaling smoke into the hot summer night。 She
loved helping other people with their problems。
More like she just wanted to hear that other peoplehad problems。
？I can？t do it；？ plained Serena。 She frowned down at her Marc Jacobs flip…flops。 ？It？s just
not connecting。？
？Serena；？ Blair murmured dreamily； ？you know what you look like？？
？Huh？？ Serena looked up。 Blair was leaning out the window； still clad only in her towel；
clutching a cigarette but not smoking it； so her ash was almost an inch long。 She looked like a
crazed Madison Avenue maven in an alcoholic trance。
？You look exactly；？ Blair said； ？I mean；exactly ； like Holly Golightly。 The fire escape； the wisps
of hair； the light？it？s all perfect。 It？s fucking creepy almost。？
？Thanks；？ Serena uttered。 It was one of the nicest things Blair had said to her in their many years
of friendship。
？I？m serious；？ Blair proclaimed。 ？I？m an expert。 I？m in the business； okay？ I know about fashion；
I know about looks； I know about glamour； and you？ve got it。 I don？t care what Ken Mogul might
say： youare Holly Golightly；？ she continued determinedly； ？if I have anything to do with it。？
？What do you mean？？ Serena demanded。
？Who is the world？s greatest Holly Golightly expert？？ Blair asked。
Serena laughed。 ？You are； no question。？
？Well； you？re pretty damn lucky to know me； then； aren？t you？？ Blair remarked。 Ifshe couldn？t
be Holly Golightly； well； then she could make Serena into her。 That would be satisfaction
enough。 ？e on。？ She stubbed out her cigarette and grabbed her friend？s hand。 ？We have work
to do。？
Their first stop was obvious： the sidewalk outside of Tiffany。
Blair had thrown on a vaguely Mexican embroidered cami she？d bought the previous summer at
Scoop and a pair of jeans and had insisted that Serena dress down too。 When the cab pulled up in
front of the store； Blair practically shoved Serena out into the street。
？Now；？ Blair barked。 ？Let me see your walk。？ Blair stationed herself in front of the store
windows and faced her friend。 With the traffic zooming past behind her and the tall buildings
rising into the sky； Serena looked very small； very vulnerable。 Very un…Serena。 Very； very
un…Holly。
Serena strolled awkwardly toward the store； taking funny little half…steps like a flower girl in a
wedding。
？Stop！？ Blair howled。 She walked out into the middle of the sidewalk。 ？What was that？？
？What do you mean？？ Serena was barely audible over the roar of traffic and the chatter of all the
shoppers and tourists milling around。
？You？re not trying；？ Blair intoned； channeling a tough but lovable coach from some inspirational
sports movie she？d seen on HBO。 ？Show me； show me； show me！ Iknow you can do a more
convincing walk。？
？I feel so stupid；？ Serena admitted。 ？Everyone？s looking at me and I feel all weird and
self…conscious。？
Miss Dancing…on…the…banquette…at…Bungalow…8； self…conscious？
？You can？t feel that way；？ Blair snapped。 ？You？ve got to feel confident。 You？ve got to feel cool。
You？ve got to feel like the whole world is at your disposal； like you？re calling the shots； like
you？re in charge。？
And this was calledacting ？
？But I？m just supposed to walk？？ Serena asked。 This wasn？t like walking in a fashion
show？which she？d done； of course。 ？I feel silly。？
？Pretend it？s graduation again；？ Blair suggested； remembering Serena？s irksome； last…minute
dash down the aisle of Brick Church； wearing the exact same Oscar de la Renta suit Blair was
wearing。
？I？ll try；？ Serena sighed。
Blair returned to her station in front of Tiffany。 She had a lot of work to do； but she had to admit
it was kind of fun bossing Serena around for a change。
All in the name of friendship。
just another manic sunday in the park with v 。 。 。 and d
With Nils tugging at her left hand and Edgar pulling on her right？or was it Nils on the right and
Edgar on the left？？ Vanessa Abrams remembered why it was never a good idea to have two boys
vying for one girl？s attention。
Like she hadn？t already learnedthat lesson。
？e on； e on；？ plained one of the boys？who cared which one anymore？ Their tiny
hands were sticky； their little…boy voices whiny； and besides that they werestrong 。 They had grips
of steel； and since they refused to slow down； Vanessa was half walking and half being dragged
along Central Park？s shady asphalt paths。 It reminded her of the times she and Aaron had walked
his fawn…and…white purebred boxer； Mookie； together； except the twins were even more eager to
get outside than that dog had been