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he wouldn't.
    He pulled the hat off and tucked it under his arm. “Thanks a lot for your help. Um, I'm Nate Archibald. My family has an account here?”
    Maggie handed him the board and his new boots with a disappointed grin. “Maybe I'll bump into you out on the slopes sometime.”
    Nate turned to go, amazed at his willpower. He was so totally focused, even Coach might have been impressed.
    Not that he wasn't still horny as hell.
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    Disclaimer: All the real names of places, people, and events have been altered or abbreviated to protect the innocent. Namely, me.
    hey people!

Gossip Girl 05 - I Like It Like That
    Virtue vs. Vice
    So, is everyone getting dragged to that Virtue vs. Vice benefit with our parents at the Frick tonight? I hope so—at least that means I won't be alone in my misery. Of course we all know the only reason they insist on us going is so they can compare us with one another and talk about what colleges we've applied to and who's already in early and generally drive us out of our minds, since those are definitely our least favorite subjects at the moment. Plus, there couldn't be a stuffier venue for a party. I mean, come on, a party at the Frick is like a party at your grandmother's country house.
    I know I sound ungrateful—come on, a party is a party, and you know how much I love to get dressed up. But I prefer to party sans parents, don't you? The only cool thing is that our parents will all be so busy trying to impress one another that they won't bother scolding us for smoking in the powder room. Actually, if we do anything even slightly embarrassing they'll just have to pretend they don't know us. So let's try to have a little fun, shall we? See? You're already looking forward to tonight, aren't you?
    I'm going to save your e-mail and sightings for after the big bash.
    See you there!
    You know you love me.
    gossip girl

Gossip Girl 05 - I Like It Like That
    Upper west siders look down their noses at the poorly versed
    “Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats!” Rufus Humphrey bellowed as he delivered a platter of sizzling sausages with rum-roasted apples and bananas to the table. Jenny had made her dad feel so guilty for being out the day before when she'd brought Leo home that Rufus had insisted she invite Leo and Elise over for dinner the next night. Not that Rufus was out to impress his houseguests: As usual, he was wearing a food-stained white undershirt and his favorite pair of cigarette-burned, saggy-assed gray sweatpants. His curly gray hair and monstrous gray eyebrows stuck out at odd angles from his stubbly face, and his mouth and teeth were stained red from wine.
    “We'd better sit down,” Jenny said, clicking off the TV in the library and grinning at Leo. “Now you get to taste Dad's weird food. Be careful,” she warned. “He puts alcohol in everything.”
    Leo looked at his watch. Then he stuck his hands in his jeans pockets and pulled them out again. He seemed nervous. “Okay.”
    “Her dad isn't as scary as he looks,” Elise said. She tucked her feet into her pink J. Crew clogs and clomped out into the dining room, as if she'd lived at Jenny's house all her life.
    Dan met them at the creaky dining room table. He was reading from a copy of Red Letter and didn't even look up when his dad slapped a whole banana and a maimed-looking sausage on his plate. Once everyone was served, Rufus filled his wineglass to the rim and held it in the air. “Now for a little poetry game!”
    Dan and Jenny rolled their eyes at each other across the table.
    Normally Jenny didn't mind her dad's little pop quizzes, games, and lectures, but with Leo there, it was just too embarrassing. “Dad,” she whined. Why couldn't he be normal just this once?
    Rufus ignored her. “Where are we going, Walt Whitman? / The doors close in an hour. / Which way does your beard point tonight?!” He directed a sausage-fat-greased finger at Leo. “Name that poet!”
    “Dad!” Jenny rattled