“Yeah；” Dan admitted； feeling slightly nauseous。 He shrugged off his coat and slid it on the bench opposite her。 “I’ll get drinks。” He strode up to the pockmarked bar； wondering what the hell he should order for Serena。 She probably drank hundred…dollar glasses of champagne。
“We’ve got five…dollar pitchers of Bud Lite until five。 Manager’s special；” the ancient bartender growled； not looking up from his sudoku puzzle。
“Sure； fine；” Dan said distractedly； slapping the money on the table。 He carried back the pitcher； along with two plastic cups； and carefully poured drinks for both of them。
“Cheers！” Serena held up her cup toward Dan。 “Thanks for meeting me。 I know it’s random； but when I opened up that New Yorker； I can’t even tell you how badly I needed to hear something nice。 And then I saw my name… and then I saw your name…。 Anyway； I really liked it；” Serena trailed off uncertainly。 Did she sound like a total stalker？ Maybe the poem wasn’t about her at all—maybe it was about his dog or his mom or maybe he just randomly chose the name from a name book。 Maybe her whole problem was she was just too much of a romantic； seeing love when it wasn’t there。 She took a long swig of beer。
“Oh。” Dan blushed。 He’d been trying to figure out how to explain the poem to Serena without sounding like a stalker or a loser； but so far； he had nothing。 He figured the words would e to him。 He took a big gulp of beer； even though he hated the taste of it。 He much preferred scotch or whiskey。 “I actually wrote that in high school。 Right after we dated。” Maybe the truth was the best way to go。
“Really？” Serena gazed up at Dan’s sweet and sincere face。 She and Dan had dated for a little bit their senior year； but had quickly realized they were just too different。 He’d been nice； but way too intense with his poetry； and looking back； she could hardly remember what they’d done or spoken about when they’d been together。
“I hope you don’t mind；” Dan mumbled。 He couldn’t believe he and Serena van der Woodsen； his high school crush； his former muse； were just chatting over Bud Lights at four o’clock in the afternoon。 It was so bizarre； it almost felt normal。
Serena broke into a smile。 “I loved it。 Except I had to look up a few of the Ovid references。 If you weren’t such a good writer； I’d think you were trying to make people feel dumb。” She smiled； then ducked under the table； pulling out a dog…eared copy of Ovid from her large white purse。 “It’s from that myth； right？ About the two lovers who are turned into birds because one can’t live without the other？ I cried when I read it；” Serena confessed。 It was so nice to actually talk about everything she’d been reading。
Dan blinked。 Serena had actually looked up the Greek mythology allusion in the poem？ He didn’t think Serena van der Woodsen read literature。
Or The New Yorker？
“So； how’s Columbia？” Serena asked after a pause。 She hadn’t been sure what they’d talk about when they met； and right now； Dan wasn’t doing much talking at all。 Maybe it was an artist thing。 Maybe she was distracting him from an afternoon of poetry writing。 What was he thinking？ His eyes looked so large and brown and kept flicking toward her； then away。 He was mysterious。 He had substance。 And； especially recently； Serena hadn’t hung out with many guys who had substance。
“It’s great！” Dan said enthusiastically； glad they’d landed on a less awkward topic。 He could talk about college。 “I get to spend my time reading great books and talking to people who actually care about them； not just people who are trying to get good grades；” Dan said； hoping Serena didn’t think he was hopelessly dorky。 “In high school I felt like I was just wasting my life doing what other people wanted me to do。 I’m reading The Fountainhead。 Have you read it？” Dan asked hopefully。
Serena shook her head slowly。 She’d forgotten how intense Dan Humphrey was。 She leaned in close。 “Tell me about it。”
“Oh； well； it’s about this architect who decides to accept obscurity and ridicule instead of promising his ideals in his designs。 It’s about choosing good art above all else；” Dan said seriously。 “And that’s what I feel like college is all about。 Figuring out what’s important to you in life； the thing you’ll follow to the end of the earth。 Figuring out what you care about most。” Dan blushed and looked down into his mug。 If she didn’t think he was a giant dork before； she definitely would now。
Serena nodded。 That made sense。 “I could see that；” she offered。 “I’ve been taking a break from acting to figure out what I want； but I still don’t know。” She grabbed the pitcher and refilled their plastic cups。 “I’m not really passionate about anything like you are。”
“I think you’re passionate；” Dan said。 “I mean； I think you must have a passion。” He blushed and gulped his beer。 What was his problem？ The more he tried not to sound like a creepy stalker； the more stalkerish he sounded。 “Would you ever think about college？” he asked； hoping he didn’t sound like a pushy parent。
“I’m actually deferred from Yale right now。” Serena sighed。 Instantly； her blue eyes seemed clouded by sadness。 “It’s sort of a long story。”
“You should go；” Dan said seriously。 Instantly； he felt like an idiot。 Why was he telling his dream girl to move hours way？
“Really？” Serena stared into her cup of watery beer。 She had been thinking a lot about going back to school； recently…。 And besides； it wasn’t like Blair was in charge of Yale。 If Serena wanted to go to Yale； she should go to Yale。 “Are you trying to get rid of me？” she asked； raising a playful eyebrow at Dan； who instantly reddened。
“No！” Dan protested。 “But there’s more to college than beer pong and a T…shirt。 I think you might like it。” Why had he been so nervous about meeting Serena？ Sure； she was beautiful； but she was also goofy and fun and smart and sweet。
Serena smiled across the table。 She couldn’t remember the last time someone had listened to her—really listened。 “Well； if I do go to Yale； I’ll still e back and visit。 New Haven’s not far from the city； you know。”
“No； it’s not far at all。” Dan smiled back； sloshing his beer so a tiny dribble fell onto his blue Gap sweater。 But he didn’t care。 Serena was still beaming at him； and in her deep blue eyes was the promise of the future。 “I’d like that；” he said finally。
See what I mean about history ing back to haunt you？
if you don’t know who you’re sleeping with； who does？
“Shut up！” Blair screamed； hitting the wall by her headboard on her way from the minibar toward her bed。 She was on her fourth vodka soda refill and the couple in the room next door seemed to be on their fourth round of noisy； athletic sex。 Blair had had enough。 Even if they were on their honeymoon； didn’t they get tired？ And hadn’t the Tribeca Star heard of soundproofing？
And doesn’t she have anything better to do than sit in her room and listen to them？
The noises in the next room subsided slightly。 There。 That was better。 It was only ten o’clock； but Blair was exhausted。 For the past twenty…four hours； she’d been holed