Psycho Killer (31 page)

“Nah,” Serena responded. “I wasn’t invited.”

Vanessa nodded, processing this information. Serena van der Woodsen wasn’t invited? Maybe she wasn’t so bad after all.

“Well, do you want to come out with us tonight?” Vanessa offered before she could stop herself. “Me and my big sister are going to a bar here in Williamsburg. Her band is playing. It’s sort of a headbanging slam-fest type thing. People always get hurt or arrested or trampled to death.”

“Sounds great!” Serena cried. “I’ll bring the knife.”

Vanessa gave her the address of the Five and Dime—the bar where her sister’s band played—and hung up the phone.

Life was so strange. One day you could be picking your nose and plotting to blow up your school with everyone in it, and the next day you could be inviting Serena van der Woodsen to hang out and talk knives. She picked up the red shirt, pulled it on over her head, and looked in the mirror. She looked like a tulip. A tulip with a stubbly black head.

“Dan will like it,” her sister Ruby told her, standing in the doorway. She handed Vanessa a tube of dark red lipstick.
Vamp
.

“Well, Dan’s not coming out tonight.” Vanessa smirked at her sister. She dabbed on the lipstick and rubbed her lips together. “He has to take his little sister to some fancy ball.”

She checked herself out in the mirror once more. The lipstick made her big brown eyes look even bigger, and the shirt was kind of cool, in a loud, look-at-me way. She stuck out her chest and smiled invitingly at her reflection.
Maybe I’ll get lucky
, she thought. Or maybe not.

“I have a friend coming to meet us,” she told Ruby.

“Boy or girl?” Ruby asked, turning around to check out her butt in the mirror.

“Girl.”

“Name?” said Ruby, rubbing hair gel into her thick black bangs.

“Serena van der Woodsen,” Vanessa mumbled.

“The girl whose picture is all over town?” Ruby said, clearly delighted. “The girl who may or may not have murdered those twin artists?”

“Yeah, that’s her,” Vanessa said.

“Thought she’d kicked it,” Ruby said.

As if any legend ever really dies.

“What fantastic flowers,” chirped Becky Dormand, a junior at Constance. She kissed Blair on both cheeks. “And what a hot dress!”

“Thanks, Beck.” Blair looked down at her simple dark green satin Prada gown. The emerald-encrusted dagger she’d stolen from the Met was strapped to her thigh, concealed beneath the ankle-length gown. Call her paranoid, but ever since her battle with Serena inside the Arms and Armor collection she’d decided to stay armed, just in case.

You never know when your best friend is going to rise from the dead and stab you in the back.

A waiter walked by with a tray of champagne. Blair whisked a flute off his tray and downed it in a matter of seconds. It was her third so far.

“I love your shoes,” Blair said. Becky was wearing black high-heeled sandals that laced all the way up to her knees. They went perfectly with her short black tutu dress and her super-high ponytail. She looked like a ballerina on acid.

“I can’t wait for people to open the gift bags,” Laura Salmon squealed.

“I can’t believe we put glow-in-the-dark condoms in them,” Rain Hoffstetter giggled. “And those little pen knives! Are we crazy?”

“Not that you’ll be needing them,” Laura quipped.

“How do you know?” Rain huffed.

“Blair?” Blair heard someone say in a tremulous voice.

Blair turned around to see little Ginny Humphrey standing behind her, looking like a human Wonderbra in her black stretch satin dress.

“Oh, hello,” Blair said coolly. “Thanks again for doing the invitations. They really came out great.”

“Thanks for
letting
me do them,” Jenny said. Her eyes darted around the huge room, which was throbbing with people and music and smoke. Black three-foot-high candles in tall glass beakers trimmed with peacock feathers and fragrant white orchids flickered everywhere. Jenny had never been to anything this cool in her life. “God, I don’t know anyone here,” she said nervously.

“You don’t?” Blair wondered if Ginny thought she was going to talk to her all night.

“No. My brother Dan was supposed to come with me, but he didn’t really want to, so I just let him drop me off. Actually, I do know one other person,” Jenny said.

“Oh,” said Blair. “And who is that?”

“Serena,” Jenny chirped. “Have you seen her?”

Just then, a waitress brandished a platter of sushi under Blair’s nose. Blair grabbed a chunky tuna roll and shoved it into her mouth. The dagger dug into her thigh. It might be fun to kick off the party by slitting Ginny’s throat.

“Serena’s not coming,” she said, chewing hungrily.
She’s dead
,
she added smugly to herself.
And you will be too, very soon, little Ginny. Just as soon as I eat a few more of these delicious hors d’oeuvres
.

Jenny snagged two flutes of champagne from a waiter’s tray. She frowned as she handed one to Blair. “I know Serena’s been out sick, but I didn’t think she’d miss the party.” She paused to take a tiny sip of champagne. Blair looked sort of angry for some reason. Maybe she should stop talking before something bad happened.

Blair burped queasily. The worshipful way Ginny talked about Serena was making her nauseous. She’d have to wait to kill her until after she vomited.

“I’ll be right back,” she said, practically running for the powder room.

Jenny polished off her champagne. Another waiter walked by with more full glasses, and she grabbed two. She’d never had champagne before. It tasted wonderful.

The party was crowded, but there was no one to talk to. Jenny carried her champagne over to the bottom step of a marble staircase and sat down. If only her dress weren’t quite so tight. She continued to drink, taking in the sparkling room and congratulating herself for making it there.

Two pigskin-loafered feet appeared beside her on the step.

“Well,
hello
,” a deep voice said, hovering above her.

Jenny looked up. Her eyes settled on Chuck Bass’s handsome gold monogrammed eye patch–bedazzled face. She sucked in her breath. He was the most dashing boy she’d ever seen, and he was looking right at her.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me?” Chuck said, staring at Jenny’s chest.

“To who?” Jenny frowned in confusion.

He just laughed and held out his hand. The cleavage on her! “I’m Chuck Bass. Would you like to dance?”

Jenny hesitated, but only for a second. She wasn’t wearing a sexy black dress just to sit on the steps by herself all night. She stood up, feeling a little wobbly after all that champagne.

“Sure, let’s dance,” she slurred, falling against Chuck’s chest.

He slipped his arm around her waist and squeezed it tight. “Good girl,” he said, like he was talking to a dog.

Jenny stumbled and swayed against Chuck as they danced. This boy was so handsome, so debonair. The music was amazing. This party was amazing. This would definitely go down as one of the most memorable nights of her life.

If she survived.

“Have whatever you want,” Vanessa told Serena. “It’s on the house.”

Ruby took their order. Because she played bass in the band, she got drinks for free.

“And don’t forget my cherry!” Vanessa yelled after her as Ruby left to get the drinks.

“Your sister’s awesome,” Serena said, admiring Ruby’s cool black bob and dark green leather pants.

Vanessa shrugged her shoulders. “Yeah,” she agreed. “It’s a pain in my ass. I mean, everyone’s always like, ‘Ruby’s so cool,’ and I’m like, ‘Hello? Fuck you.’ ”

Serena laughed. “I know what you mean. My older brother—he goes to Brown, and everybody loves him. My parents are always so into everything he does, and now that I’m back from boarding school it’s like, ‘Oh, we have a daughter?’ ”

“Totally,” Vanessa agreed. She couldn’t believe she was having such a ridiculously normal conversation with Serena van der Woodsen, psycho killer.

Ruby brought them their drinks. “Okay guys, I gotta go set up.”

“Good luck,” Serena told her.

“Thanks, sweetie,” Ruby said. She picked up her guitar case and went to find her bandmates.

Un-fucking-believable
, Vanessa thought. Ruby never called anyone sweetie except for Tofu, her parakeet. Serena certainly had a way of melting people’s hearts. Vanessa was even starting to like her a little herself.

She picked up her drink and clinked her glass against Serena’s. “To coolass chicks,” she said, knowing it sounded seriously gay, but not really giving a shit.

Serena laughed and tossed back her shot of Stoli. She wiped her eyes and blinked a few times. A scruffy-looking guy wearing an oversized tuxedo was walking into the bar. He stopped in the doorway and stared at Serena as if he’d seen a ghost.

“Hey, isn’t that your friend Dan?” Serena said, pointing.

Dan was wearing a tuxedo for the first time in his life. He’d felt pretty sharp when he first put it on, but not sharp enough to deal with
Kiss Me or Die
. After dropping Jenny off he’d asked the cab to head over to the Five and Dime, hoping Vanessa would accept his apology for being such a dick about the movie.

On the ride over he’d tried to convince himself that it didn’t matter that he’d probably never see Serena van der Woodsen again. He’d heard a strange rumor that she was dead anyway.

The meter ran out
.

Life is fragile and absurd
.

This love never dies
.

Life was absurd all right. Because
there Serena was
. Alive, and in Williamsburg, of all places. His dream girl.

Dan felt like Cinderella, in a tuxedo. He shoved his hands in his pockets to keep them from shaking, and tried to plan his next move. He would walk over and suavely offer to buy Serena a drink. Too bad the only suave thing about him was his outfit. And it was only half as suave as it would have been if he’d kept the Armani from Barneys.

“Hey,” Dan said when he reached their table, his voice cracking.

“What’re you doing here?” Vanessa demanded. She couldn’t believe her luck. Did it have to be quite this bad? Was she going to have to sit there for the rest of the night watching Dan drool over Serena? The bowie knife was still in Serena’s pretty black patent leather clutch. Vanessa had told her to keep it in there until it was time to part ways. She could whip it out now and put Dan out of his drooling misery.

“I blew off
Kiss Me or Die
,” Dan explained. “Not my thing.”

“Me too.” Serena smiled at Dan like he’d never been smiled at before.

Dan clutched the back of Vanessa’s chair for balance.

Heart!

You there
.

That wasn’t life—this is
.

“Hey,” he greeted her shyly.

“You remember Serena,” Vanessa said. “She’s in my class at Constance.”

“Nice tux,” Serena said.

Dan blushed and looked down at himself. “Thanks.” He looked up again. “And that dress is… looks… pretty also,” he
stuttered. He hadn’t thought it was possible to sound so idiotic. When had he forgotten how to talk?

When he stopped talking and starting writing depressing haikus instead?

“What about
my
shirt?” Vanessa said loudly. She stood up and twirled around. “Have you ever seen me look this hot?”

Dan stared at Vanessa’s red T-shirt. Not very exciting. “Is it new?” he asked, confused.

“Never mind.” Vanessa collapsed in her chair, her eyes on Serena’s purse. Who to stab—Dan or Serena? Both?

“Come, sit.” Serena moved over to make room for Dan. “The band is going to start soon. I hear it gets pretty rough.”

The rumors couldn’t possibly be true, Dan thought. Serena didn’t act like a sex-crazed, drug-addicted, maniacal murderess. She looked delicate and perfect and exciting, like a wildflower you stumble upon unexpectedly in Central Park. Dan wanted to hold hands with her and whisper love poems in her ear all night.

Sweet forget-me-not
.

I’ll slit my throat now, smiling
.

Forget me—never
.

He sat down next to her. His hands were shaking so badly he had to sit on them to keep them still.

The band started to play. Ruby let out a bloodcurdling yowl and slammed heads with the drummer. Serena finished her vodka.

“Want some more?” Dan offered eagerly.

She shook her head. “Let’s just listen to the music for a while.”

She sat back in her chair. Their elbows touched. Ruby let out another yowl and threw her black steel-toed combat boots into the audience.

Dan pressed his elbow against Serena’s as hard as he dared. She could kill him now and he would die happy.

“Let the festivities commence!” Anthony Avuldsen cried, throwing open the doors to the Katherine Farkas and Isabel Coates Memorial House.

As always, Nate, Anthony, and Charlie had smoked a big fattie before the party. Nate was silly high, and when he walked through the door and saw Blair pushing her way through the crowd with her hand clapped over her mouth, he started to giggle. Rumor had it that Blair had stabbed Serena, which was why Serena had been out of school all week. And Serena hadn’t responded to either one of his two stoned texts. But sometimes you just had to laugh. Blair, with her weak stomach, actually stabbing anyone? Ha!

Ha!

“What’re you laughing at, jackass?” Anthony said, shoving his elbow into Nate’s ribs. “Nothing’s even happened yet.”

Nate wiped his hand over his face and tried to look serious, but it was hard to keep a straight face in a room full of boys dressed like penguins, and girls in sexy dresses. Blair was probably already in the bathroom. The question was, should he go
and rescue her? It was the type of thing a good, concerned boyfriend would do.

“Bar’s over there,” Charlie said, leading the way.

“I’ll catch you guys later,” Nate called. He ducked around Chuck in his eye patch, gyrating his crotch against the ass of a short girl with curly brown hair and insane cleavage, and headed for the ladies’ room.