Cecily von Ziegesar - Take a Chance on Me

Copyright 2009 by Alloy Entertainment

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Poppy

Hachette Book Group

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Visit our Web site at www.HachetteBookGroup.com.

Poppy is an imprint of Little, Brown Books for Young Readers.

The Poppy name and logo are trademarks of Hachette Book Group, Inc.

First eBook Edition: May 2009

The characters, events, and locations in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

ISBN: 978-0-316-05281-8

Gossip Girl novels created by Cecily von Ziegesar:

Gossip Girl

You Know You Love Me

All I Want Is Everything

Because Im Worth It

I Like It Like That

Youre The One That I Want

Nobody Does It Better

Nothing Can Keep Us Together

Only In Your Dreams

Would I Lie To You

Dont You Forget About Me

It Had To Be You

The Carlyles

You Just Cant Get Enough

Take A Chance On Me

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Footfree and Fancyloose by Elizabeth Craft and Sarah Fain

We know what we are, but know not what we may be.

Hamlet, William Shakespeare

Its mid-October, otherwise known as Indian summerthe schizophrenic time of year when girls wear their favorite Alice + Olivia frocks layered over their wool Tibi leggings, when coffee orders suddenly switch from iced to hot, and when certain people (you know who you are) still think its acceptable to bust out their Malia Mills bikinis and sunbathe in Sheep Meadow on weekend afternoons, hoping the pickup soccer gameplaying St. Judes boys might notice.

According to historical legend, Indian summer was known as the time of year when tensions were especially high between natives and newcomers. And here on the Upper East Side, history seems to be repeating itself. Case in point? O and R, the former best guy buddies whose city bromance was one for the books, swam together, ran together, drank togetherthey seemed inseparable. And they were until R caught O hooking up with his girlfriend. O got a bloody nose and the girl. Now that O has completely stolen K from R, the two wont so much as talk. Sad. I guess sharing isnt caring, after all.

And thats not the only skirmish weve witnessed this fall. The freckly-faced ballerina J and socialite-in-training A have already had territorial battles over everything from couture to classmate loyalty. And even though A seemingly gained ground when her sister B dated Js ex, now B is flying solo and A is fighting solo. Good thing A is going to be spending her afternoons safely ensconced within glass-walled offices for her highly coveted media internship. And since Js back with her boyfriend, maybe she can forgive and forget. Miracles can happen, right? And not just on Thirty-fourth Street?

So what to do if youre feeling a chill in the air thats not related to a dropping thermostatone that cant be fixed by your new DVF A-line herring-bone coat? Well, why not take a cue from one sparkly-eyed bohemian nymph and skip town? B has been avoiding stateside drama in favor of exploring the beaches, shops, and cafes of the Spanish seaside in Barcelonasolo. Is she second-guessing her hasty breakup with a certain Manhattan mogul-in-training, doing some soul searching, or looking for a certain Spanish boy who was recently visiting NYC? One things for sure: She may be single, but shes not alone. Shes been spotted all over Barcelona, constantly trailed by an army of admirers. Some girls have all the luck!

A at a newsstand on Seventy-second and Lex, picking up copies of Vogue, French Vogue, Italian Vogue, Harpers, and Tatler. Boning up on the competition before her big Metropolitan internship? Or just making a really ambitious collage? O and K making out next to a rack of chips at a bodega on Madison and Sixty-second. And on a bench in Central Park. And on the downtown 6 train. Either these lovers dont know about secluded rooftop terraces, or they seriously get off on PDA. The recently reunited J and J.P., sharing an Evian at Corner Bakery on Ninety-third, with J.P.s three puggles in tow. R throwing dozens of ripped-up photographs into the East River, crying the whole time. Brings new meaning to drowning your sorrows And a smiling B, on La Rambla in Barcelona, being catcalled by everyone in her path. Hola, beb!

q:Chismosa,

I have heard a rumor of a beautiful brown-haired girl in Barcelona, looking for a man she met in New York. I believe that was me. Please to tell her that I am in Majorca, on my submarine, and I would love to see her.

Latin Lover

a:Dear LL,

Sadly, I dont know where your tousled bohemian beauty is either, but were hoping she comes home soon.

GG

q:Dear GG,

Im a senior at Barnard and I was supposed to score this amazing internship at Metropolitan, the legendary New York fashion mag that totally propelled the career of anyone whos anyone in the industry? And suddenly I hear some girl whos a junior in high school scored the internship? WTF? I guarantee you she doesnt even know her Joan Didion from her Mary McCarthy. Whats wrong with this world? Seriously, Im just about ready to give up on New York.

editennui

a:Dear EE,

Unfortunately, sometimes it really is who you know, so maybe this girl had some legendary connections. But look on the bright side: Perhaps you dont want to know those people anyway?

GG

clothes call

These are strange days, where one morning it feels like you should be sunning in Sagaponack rather than slaving away at pre-calc, and the next its back to frigid. For my part, Im off to Barneys to stock up on cozy TSE cashmere cardigans. You may not be able to control public opinion, but you can control your own comfort. No matter how cold it getsor how icy your former besties are actingdont let it stop you from being hot.

You know you love me,
gossip girl

Ow! Owen Carlyle grunted as a bagel hit him, hard, square in the center of his broad shoulders. He whirled around and furrowed his blond eyebrows at the swimmers hanging out on the steps of the Y. Scrawny Chadwick Jenkins and linebacker-size Ken Williams smiled back at him angelically, as if they were choirboys at St. Patricks Cathedral rather than testosterone-laced high schoolers.