Instead, he began flipping through the pile of poems, reading quickly. Some of them were pretty awful, but some of them were original and brilliant. He thought of asking Mr. Castle what he thought was wrong with the poems. Or maybe he could leave the poems he liked in Mr. Castle's in box with a note asking him to reconsider them. But then again, the less he had to do with Siegfried Castle, the better. When he'd gotten control of himself again, he pulled a blank piece of paper out of the stack near the printer and clicked open his pen, jotting down the first few lines of the poem that had been in his head all afternoon. Petite mignonette, sweet coquette I taste your cookies, your bread You fill my plate The last line sounded familiar, like maybe he'd already used it in another poem. He crossed his legs, pondering, and heard the sound of a toilet flushing. He could pee, he decided. Pee and then finish the poem. He got up to go to the bathroom. Inside, there was something written in Latin on the wall in red ink, but he couldn't decipher it. When he got back to his desk the piece of paper with his poem on it was gone, but the entire staff was still in the conference room. Dan didn't dare investigate. He could only hope his fragment of a poem would be published under ?Anonymous? in the next issue ofRed Letter . Eventually, he could leak the information that the poem was his, and the literary world would clamor for more. He'd publish a book?or maybe ten books?and become world-famous, just like Mystery Craze. Although maybe not quite as notorious.  I, mystery man Jenny and Leo held hands throughout the entire movie and kept holding hands as they walked out of the theater. Jenny hadn't even paid attention to the movie. All she could think the entire time was,He's going to take me home afterward. We're only five blocks away from that big doorman building on Park. And then I'll meet his dog and his mom and her personal trainer and their ten maids ? ?So, I was thinking maybe we could walk over to the Guggenheim now.? Leo smiled down at her with his cute cracked-tooth smile. If he was so loaded then how come his parents didn't get his tooth fixed?Jenny wondered. Then again, she was glad they hadn't. ?It's after eight. Aren't all the museums closed by now?? ?They have these once-a-month things at night,? Leo explained. ?And it's kind of cooler, you know, seeing the paintings when it's dark out.? If Jenny had been thinking properly, she would have thought this was just about the best thing anyone had ever said. First of all, how cool was it that she and Leo were both into art and museums? Second of all, how cool was it that he knew about these funky nighttime art happenings and that he wanted to takeher to one? But all Jenny could think was,He's not taking me home! What's wrong with me? What's wrong with him?What's his story? ?Do you have any pets?? she demanded suspiciously as they crossed Second Avenue and headed east toward Fifth. ?Pets? No. Why?? Leo wrapped an arm around her shoulders. ?Brrr. You warm enough? Do you want my scarf?? Another heart-meltingly romantic gesture, but did she notice? No pets?Jenny brooded, too distracted to be bothered by the cold.But why would he lie? And how come he's trying to change the subject so quickly? ?Well, here we are.? The ghostlike coil-pot structure that was the Guggenheim Museum hovered above them in the dark. ?Kiss, Kiss,? a banner proclaimed, flapping over the museum's entrance. Leo blushed when he noticed Jenny looking at it. ?Come on, let's go in.? Jenny opened her purse to pay for her half of the admission, but Leo motioned for her to put her wallet away. ?That's okay. I'm a member. We can get in free.? A member? Well, well, well. And hadn't Elise said that Leo had been seen at that big Frick Museum benefit on Thursday night? His family probablyowned the Guggenheim. They wound their way up the graded halls of the museum, stopping at the first painting on exhibit. It was Marc Chagall'sBirthday, a painting of a woman holding a bouquet of flowers, kissing a man who is flying in the air above her head. The woman looked as if she had just been doing something boring, like setting the table, when the man swooped down and caught her lips with his. ?I love the blue,? Leo said, studying it. ?You would think blue would make it cold, but it doesn't. It warms it up.? ?Mmm.? Jenny wasn't listening to a word he said. She was studying his profile, his hair, his clothes, his shoes, his finger-nails, looking for a clue, some sort of explanation. Leo glanced at her, blushing again. He took her hand. ?May I kiss you? I mean, before we look at the next one?? If she hadn't been paying attention before, she was now. ?Oh! Um. Sure.? Jenny took a step backward and almost lost her balance. Leo held her hand even tighter. ?I've got you.? Jenny let him pull her toward him, and she lifted up her face to meet his. What they did next was no mystery at all, although she kind of wondered where he'd learned to kiss so well. If only she could stop thinking so much. S has a stroke of genius Serena van der Woodsen sipped her latte and squinted gloomily down at Fifth Avenue from her perch on the steps of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Her abundant pale blond hair overflowed the hood of her belted white cashmere sweater coat and spilled onto her shoulders. There it was again on the side of the M102 bus?the ad for Serena's Tears. She had no problem with the way she looked in the picture. She liked how the cold wind had whipped her yellow sundress up between he............