You're the One That I Want by Cecily von Ziegesar

I know she's just crazy. No wonder she didn't get into college.

    --newsworthy

    Dour newsworthy,

    You said she's a senior? Babe, we're ALL crazy.

    --GG

    Dear GG,

    My cousin goes to Yale and works as a tour guide for prospec-tive students. He was told there is no wait list at Yale. They just send out the letters to meet some national quota or something.

    --drea

    Dear drea,

    Eek. That sounds scary enough to be true.

    --GG Sightings

    D drinking farewell coffee in a diner on Broadway. J practicing the runway-model strut down the center aisle of the Seventy-ninth Street crosstown bus. S catching the U.S. Air shuttle to Boston. Guess she's taking this decision-making thing pretty seriously. B chugging down one of those little bottles of vodka on her flight to DC--psyching her-self up for Georgetown. V chucking out a girls only sign that she stole from a bathroom in a Williamsburg bar. C and his dad board-ing their private jet. On their way to convince some gullible institution to take him next fall? Dad was carrying a briefcase--let's just imagine it was full of money.

    Remember people, we've got almost three weeks to decide which school we want to go to. Let's use the time wisely. Wink, wink. You know I will!

    You know you love me,

    gossip girl geeky harvard host steals s's heart

    Serena stepped out of her Logan Airport limo and tripped down the flagstone path to the Harvard admissions office, her body buzzing with caffeine from the huge Starbucks cappuc-cino she'd drunk during the flight. It was a sunny spring morning--cooler than in New York--and Cambridge was bustling with street vendors and hip, bohemian-looking stu-dents, hanging out on benches and drinking coffee. She won-dered how Harvard had earned its serious and intimidating reputation when it seemed so relaxed and unintimidating.

    Her tour guide was waiting for her just inside the door. Tall and dark-haired, with silver-wire-rimmed spectacles--the perfect geekily handsome intellectual. "I'm Drew," he said, holding out his hand.

    "I already love it here," Serena gushed as she shook his hand. She had a tendency to gush when she was nervous, even though she wasn't exactly nervous, just over-caffeinated.

    "I can give you the standard two-hour tour, or maybe it would be better if you tell me what you want to see," Drew offered. His eyes were light brown, and he was wearing a beige cotton cable-knit sweater and olive green corduroys that were so perfectly creased, Serena could picture him getting the package from J. Crew that his mom had had sent for him and putting the clothes on right out of the box. She liked it when boys paid attention lo fashion, but it was almost more appealing when a boy looked hot

    despite his nerdy mom-just-bought-me-this outfit.

    "I'd really like to see your room," she said, without even stopping to think about how it sounded. Actually, it was true. She really did want to see what the dorms were like.

    Drew blushed and Serena blushed back at him. And all of a sudden it hit her--she'd gone to an all-girls school since first grade. All girls for twelve years straight. College was going to be full of boys. Boys all day, every day. Boys, boys, boys.

    Whoopee!

    "Are you hungry?" Drew asked. "The dining hall in my dorm actually has pretty decent food. I could take you through one of the bigger libraries and then we could walk over and get lunch and check out the dorm rooms. It's a coed dorm, so . . ." He blushed again and pushed his glasses up on his nose.

    "Perfect," Serena breathed.

    Drew led her out of the admissions office and down a long walkway that cut through Harvard Yard. The greener-than-green grass was crawling with students playing Frisbee or reading books. A professor corrected papers under a maple tree.

    "This is Widener, the humanities library," Drew said as Serena followed him up the building's stately steps. "I'm a music-chemistry double major, so I don't really spend much time in here," he explained, holding the