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

door open for her. They stepped inside the quiet, cool space, and Drew pointed to a locked glass case standing against the far wall. "They have a pretty amazing collection of original manuscripts here. You know, ancient Greek papyri and muff."

    Papyri?

    Drew stood patiently with his hands in the pockets of his neatly creased corduroys, waiting for her to ask questions about the library. But Serena was too absorbed in him. She'd already decided Drew was cute, but a boy who used words like papyri with a completely straight face was completely irresistible!

    She twirled a strand of blond hair around her finger and stared up at the library's ceiling as if fascinated by its design. "You're a music major? Do you play an instrument?"

    Drew looked down at the floor and muttered something inaudible.

    She took a step closer. "Sorry?"

    He cleared his throat. "The xylophone. I play xylophone, in the orchestra."

    And she'd thought the xylophone was just a toy instru-ment invented so there'd be at least one English word that began with the letter x! Serena clapped her hands together in delight. "Can I hear you play?" Drew smiled hesitantly. "I have practice at three, but I'm only just learning. You probably wouldn't want to stick around--"

    Serena had ordered a car to drive her out to Providence that afternoon to check out Brown. Her brother, Erik, went there and was going to take her around campus for once instead of just getting her drunk with his roommates in his off-campus house. Still, it was only Erik. He'd understand if she was late.

    When you're seventeen and blond and beautiful, you can always late.

    "Of course I'll stick around." She took hold of Drew's arm and pulled him out the library door. "Come on, I'm starving!"

    Who needed libraries full of papyri when Harvard had so much more to offer?

    b stands out at g-town

    "My name is Rebecca Reilly and I'll be your host this week-end. Here's a name tag and a map and a whistle. Please wear the name tag and keep the map and whistle with you at all times."

    Blair stared at the short, perky, fake blond girl in front of her. She had nothing against perkiness per se. She her-self even resorted to perkiness when she was trying to get a designer like Kate Spade to donate the gift bags for one of the big benefit parties she chaired, or when she needed a teacher to let her out early for a Chloe sample sale. But genuine perkiness among your peers was just plain sad and desperate.

    "A whistle?" Blair repeated.

    The entire plane ride down she'd been building this trip up as a big ego boost. She'd spend the day with some geeky tour guide who'd make her feel sophisticated and intelligent in comparison. Later on she'd get a room at the DC Ritz-Carlton or some equally grand hotel and spend the night soaking in her own private hot tub, quaffing champagne and indulging in more phone sex with Nate.

    "Georgetown gives all its women students whistles. We have a very strong women's advocacy group here. And there have been no campus rapes or stalkings in the past two years!" Rebecca announced in her southern twang. She beamed up at Blair through thick, blue-mascaraed lashes. Her permed, bleached-blond hair smelled of Finesse hair products, and her white leather Reeboks were so new, they looked like they'd never been worn outside the mall.

    Blair flicked a stray hair off the sleeve of her new pink Marni suit jacket. "I need to book a hotel room for tonight-Rebecca grabbed her arm. "Don't be silly, sugar. You're staying with me and my girls. We have a quad that's just deeelish, and you have absolutely the bestest ever timing, because tonight we're having our girls-only Southern Belles partay!"

    Hello? Since when was girls-only anyone's idea of a partay?

    "Great," Blair responded weakly. If only she'd thought to book a room in advance. She looked around at the other visi-tors being greeted by their hosts. Everyone, hosts and visitors alike, looked strangely similar to Rebecca. Like they'd