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curtains hung from real curtain rods in the windows. There were a nice Danish modern wooden table and chairs in the living room and a cool, modern gray sofa. The place looked like it had been decorated by a real decorator.
    Vanessa blushed, which was weird for her. Since when did she blush? “Blair kind of spruced it up a little. You like?”
    Dan was sweaty from the subway ride, and because he’d run all the way from the L stop, thirteen blocks away. He traced a sticky finger over the freshly painted wall, his heart beating fast. “It’s different, I guess,” he responded nervously. Vanessa was checking him out in that unabashed, direct way of hers, making him sweat even harder.
    When Vanessa had gotten home from school, there’d been a little white box waiting for her on the kitchen counter. She’d opened it to find a silver ring in the shape of two hands holding hearts that were welded together. Inside the ring was the inscription FOREVER AND ALWAYS. LOVE, A. Except for a brief dalliance with a lip ring, Vanessa rarely wore jewelry, and this type of friendship/love ring was so corny it made her laugh. She’d certainly never have considered wearing it, no matter who had given it to her. She’d dropped the ring back inside the box and tucked it into the silverware drawer. It was possible Aaron had given her the ring as a joke, but then why would he have bothered to have it inscribed? Even when they were going out, Dan would never have given her such a sappy gift. Come to think of it, he’d never asked her to camp out under the stars with him, either. Vanessa was a running-water-and-flushing-toilets sort of girl. She hated the sun, and the outdoors, with its spiders, ants, bees, and mosquitoes, creeped her out. Of course, Aaron meant well. It was the thought that counted and all that. But she and he would have to talk—something they hadn’t really done much of since they’d hooked up. Despite Aaron pouring on the love notes, giving her gifts, and sleeping over all the time, their relationship had been purely physical thus far.
    Not that she minded. There was something about the stress of finals and graduation and turning a new page in life that was secretly freaking Vanessa out. She simply wasn’t herself. Or maybe living in an apartment with lavender walls with a girl who owned one hundred seventeen pairs of shoes, including thirty-four pairs of Manolo Blahniks, had turned her into someone else. Formerly a loner, Vanessa could no longer bear to be alone, and she’d found that the best way to keep her mind off the future was to drink a little vodka and then fool around.
    She’s only just discovered this?
    “You look pale,” Vanessa told Dan. Then she took a step toward him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him on the cheek. She squeezed her eyes shut and inhaled his cute, musty Dan scent. “Pale, but really good.”
    Vanessa was wearing a black ribbed tank top and no bra. Her head was freshly shaved, but she’d allowed the dark hair around her face to grow half an inch or so, softening her broad white forehead and big brown eyes. And she’d given up on her lip ring.
    Which was a good thing.
    She was also wearing a flippy black miniskirt that she never would have considered before Blair Waldorf moved in. But she’d paired the miniskirt with black-and-white argyle kneesocks and her ever-present Doc Martens, making it very clear that, despite her roommate’s influence, she wasn’t about to buy a pair of snakeskin Manolo Blahnik stilettos anytime soon, even if they came in black.
    The smooth slope of her pale upper arms, the mocking curve of her red lips, and the defiant glow in her big brown eyes made Dan wonder how he’d ever functioned without her. He resisted the urge to whip out his leather-bound notebook and scribble down a poem. Instead he pulled a Camel out of the pack and stuck it between his lips without lighting it. “So, you want to take a walk? Get some coffee or something?” he