chapter FIFTEEN.

Blair quietly sauntered up the marble steps of her family's penthouse, up to her bedroom. She'd extracted her high heels and had made sure that the home was silent enough to suggest that everyone in it was sleeping. It was monday morning already, which meant time for school, and it had taken her almost the rest of last night to get back to Manhattan, where she belonged. The best she could do was hope that Serena had stayed in South Hampton - or better yet, moved to China.

Downstairs, on the living room couch, Blair had spotted her mother Eleanor Waldorf entangled in the arms of Cyrus Rose, that man she'd met in Central Park the day before Christmas and had begun to date.

To be quite honest, Blair despised the man. Maybe it was because she still saw him as the one who'd broken up her parents, even though technically the man who'd done that was Roman; or maybe it was just because he seemed to hang around the Waldorf Penthouse incessantly, like a fly that never flew away. . . And a fly she desperately wanted to swat. Whatever the reason, she hoped her mother would dump his a$$ soon or she'd have to do it for her.

Blair's red-stockinged feet made nary a sound as she finally reached the end of the staircase and turned the corner to face her bedroom door. Why was it shut? She hardly ever shut her door, unless of course she was throwing up in the adjoining bathroom or secretly having sex with Chuck. Twisting the doorknob and yanking the wooden barrier open, she stumbled into her dark room in the vague direction of her plush, california king size bed. She hadn't slept a wink all through the night and she was heading off to school in exactly one hour. The least she could do was shut her eyes for a few minutes.

But just as she was about to plop down on the inviting piece of furniture with an exhausted sigh, a shadowy figure that had been laying in that very bed suddenly bolted upright. Blair screamed. The figure screamed. She hustled back over to her bedroom door, leaped outside, and trampled down the steps back to the main floor. Eleanor was already rushing to the aid of her daughter, holding her silk robe closed with one hand as she did so. Cyrus was trailing right behind her.

"Mom! Someone's in the house! In my room!"

Eleanor looked confused for a moment but then smiled slowly. "Oh, dear, that's just Cyrus' son, Aaron. Cyrus thought he'd spend the night here and since there's school tomorrow I invited his wonderful child over as well. I figured you wouldn't be using your room yet since you were staying with Serena in South Hampton."

Blair's eyebrows furrowed, the girl both confused and enraged. So now Eleanor was just inviting Cyrus and his apparent son (whom she didn't even know existed until now) into their home to stay? What the hell?! Already, a pale dreadlocked boy was traipsing down the stairs, looking befuddled and wearing a pair of black-and-red boxer shorts and nothing else. Blair felt like vomiting.

"Wait a second. . ." she began, turning from Aaron back to her mom and eyeing the woman suspiciously. "How did you know I was in SoHo with Serena? I never told you that."

Eleanor's eyes widened a bit, realizing the mistake that she'd let slip from her mouth. "Blair, I--"

"No. You know what? I need to go to school. It's monday."

She turned to leave but surprisingly her mother grabbed her firmly by the arm. Blair whirled around to face her but before she could say anything, Eleanor dragged her a few feet away from where Cyrus and Aaron stood. "After school today, I want you to come directly home," she instructed her daughter, her voice a dull murmur. "We need to talk. . ."

Blair's eyes were set ablaze with hate while a denying little smile turned up the corners of her glossy mouth. "What are you talking about, mom?"

Eleanor clearly wasn't impressed. "You know full well what I am talking about, Blair; your condition. . . I trust you'll return home at a decent hour?"

Blair wanted to hurl one of the antique paintings that hung all over the walls of their home right at the woman's face, but when she leaned to the side to sneak a glance at Aaron she saw him staring back at them both, quite enthusiastically. It would have looked pretty innocent to the untrained eye, but Blair knew eavesdropping when she saw it. And Aaron definitely had his ears trained in their direction, even if he hadn't technically moved.

She turned back to her mother. "Maybe I'll see you, maybe I won't," she sneered.

Then she turned on her heel, picked up the stray pair of ballet flats that she'd purchased last month, worn only once, and had kicked aside, and slid her feet into them. "Don't wait up!" she called over her shoulder, her dark brown hair bouncing behind her as she stomped away.

Blair didn't care if she hadn't brought along any of her textbooks or even her purse for that matter. She didn't need either of those items today, not only because she'd probably end up ditching most of her classes to get her nails done but also because most of today's energy would be focused on bringing hell to each and every last person who'd hurt her in the past few days. . . And let's face it. That's always so much funner.


Hey, B - I took the time to send you a personal text this time. Now don't you feel special? Anyway, I thought you ought to know the latest that's been going on with C. He spent most of yesterday downtown at a fitness center with a newly-returned G - Georgie Spark, that is. The two were spotted breaking into the steam room together, which was technically supposed to be closed an hour beforehand. I got an e-mail about it and did a little research myself. Thanks to my own AmEx card and sheer wit, I too was allowed access to the room where I snapped a shot of them almost naked, sitting amongst the steam on a bench together. C was snoozing and G was smoking, which is why I gained access to the room with such ease. The picture's enclosed in this text. Pretty naughty of them, don't you think? But hey, who am I to judge? Hehe. . . Have a nice day.

you know you love me.
xoxo; gossip girl