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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