He liked sugar and caffeine, which was probably part of the reason why his hands shook. Dan wasn't into being healthy. He liked to live on the edge. While he ate, Dan was studying Vanessa Abrams's script for her short film, the film he was supposed to star in. He kept reading the same line, over and over, like a mantra: Life is fragile and absurd.“Tell me you don't care about Serena van der Woodsen being back,” Jenny challenged Dan. She put a piece of grapefruit in her mouth and sucked on it. Then she stuck her fingers in her mouth, pulled out the white pulpy skin stuff, and put it on her plate. “You should see her,” she went on. “She looks so completely cool. It's like she has this whole new look. I don't mean her clothes; it's her face. She looks older, but it's not like wrinkles or anything. It's like she's Kate Moss or some model who's like, been everywhere and seen everything and come out on the other side. She looks like she's totally, like, experienced.” Jenny waited for her brother to respond, but he was just staring into his coffee cup. Life is fragile and absurd. “Don't you even want to see her?” Jenny asked. Dan thought about what he'd heard Chuck Bass say about Serena. He hadn't wanted to believe any of it, but if Serena looked as experienced as Jenny said, maybe what Chuck said was true. Maybe Serena really was the sluttiest, druggiest, most venereally diseased girl in New York. Dan shrugged his shoulders and pointed at the pile of grapefruit carcasses on Jenny's plate. “That is so foul,” he said. “Can't you just eat a Pop-Tart or something, like a normal person?” “What's wrong with grapefruit?” Jenny said. “It's refreshing.” “Watching you eat it like that isn't. It's disgusting,” Dan said. He stuffed the rest of his donut in his mouth and licked the chocolate off his fingers, being careful not to smudge any on his script. “Don't look, then,” said Jenny. “Anyway, you didn't answer my question.” Dan looked up. “What question?” Jenny put her elbows on the table and leaned forward. “About Serena,” she said. “I know you want to see her.” Dan looked back down at his script and shrugged. “Whatever,” he said. “Yeah, whatever,” said Jenny, rolling her eyes. “Look, there's this party the Friday after next. It's some big fancy benefit thing to save the peregrine falcons that live in Central Park. Did you know there were falcons in Central Park? I didn't. Anyway, Blair Waldorf is organizing it, and you know she and Serena are best friends, so of course Serena will be there.” Dan kept reading his script, completely ignoring his sister. And Jenny went on, ignoring the fact that Dan was ignoring her. “Anyway, all we have to do is find a way to get into that party,” Jenny said. She grabbed a paper napkin off the table, scrunched it into a ball, and threw it at her brother's head. “Dan, please,” she said pleadingly. “We have to go!” Dan tossed the script aside and looked at his sister, his brown eyes serious and sad. “Jenny,” he said. “I don't want to go to that party. Next Friday night I'm probably going over to Deke's house to use his PlayStation, and then I'll probably head over to Brooklyn to hang out with Vanessa and her sister and their friends. Just like I do every Friday night.” Jenny kicked at the legs of her chair like a little girl. “But why, Dan? Why won't you go to the party?” Dan shook his head, smiling bitterly. “Because we weren't invited? Because we're not going to be invited? Give it up, Jen. I'm sorry, but that's just the way it is. We're different from them, you know that. We don't live in the same world as Serena van der Woodsen or Blair Waldorf or any of those people.” “Oh, you're such a wimp! You drive me crazy,” Jen said, rolling her eyes. She stood up and dumped her dishes in the sink, scrubbing at them furiously with a Brillo pad. Then she whirled around and put her hands on her hips. She was wearing a pink flannel nightshirt and her curly brown hair was sticking out all over because she had gone to sleep with it wet. She looked like a mini disgruntled housewife with boobs that were ten times too big for her body. “I don't care what you say. I'm going to that party!” she insisted. “What party?” their father asked, appearing in the doorway to the kitchen. If there were an award for the most............