Serena Vanderwoodsen's Arc

Chapter 3 of 7

Blair was still sitting on the wood floor in the pink rehearsal dress when Serena's phone buzzed again. A short message. A single line. He was coming up the lane. Serena went to the front window and lifted the corner of the curtain. A dark figure crossed the far end of the street, camera bag on his shoulder, walking slow, checking doors. "Blair. Get up." Serena kept her voice even. "He's on the lane. We can't go out the front." Blair stood. Her hands shook on the zipper of the dress. "Then where?" Serena's phone buzzed a third time. Not the blocked number. A name she hadn't seen in months. Nate Archibald. In the village. Coffee at that little white and blue place across the square if you're around. Serena stared at the screen. She and Nate had known each other since they were children. He was safe in the way old furniture was safe. He was also, right now, a boy in a wool coat who could walk between a camera and Blair's face without anyone thinking twice. "I'm calling Nate," Serena said. Blair's mouth opened. "Nate is here?" "He's two minutes away." Serena was already dialing. He picked up on the second ring. "Hey. You coming?" "Nate. I need you to do something and not ask yet." Serena watched the figure on the lane pause at a doorway. "There's a man with a camera outside the pink building at the end of the lane. He's looking for Blair. I need you to walk up to him. Ask him for directions. Keep him talking for five minutes. That's it." A pause. She could hear him breathing. "Okay," Nate said. "Directions to what." "Anywhere. The cafe. Say you're lost." "Got it." He hung up. Serena pulled Blair to the back hall. They stepped out of the rehearsal dresses and into their snow suits. Serena cracked the side door. From here she could see the corner of the lane. Nate came around it in his navy coat, hands in his pockets, walking like a boy with nowhere to be. He stopped the man with the camera. He pointed one way, then another. The man lowered the bag off his shoulder to gesture back. "Now," Serena whispered. They slipped out the side door and crossed behind the building. Serena kept Blair on her far side, her white and silver bulk between Blair and the lane. They walked two streets over and did not stop until they reached the little cafe painted white and pale blue. Serena pulled Blair under the clear domed tent on the terrace, where a heater hummed beside two white tables. Walls of glass. No sightline from the street. Blair sat. Her breath fogged the dome. "He saw Nate's face," Blair said. "Not mine." "Not yours." Serena's phone buzzed once more. Blocked number. She turned the screen face down on the table before Blair could read it.