Than again, who was? Blair wasn't all that interested in what Aaron and his loser Bronxdale Prep band mates did to amuse themselves, or in her mother's insane need to buy random, completely pointless things like islands and alpacas and surfboards, but she did want to know what Kitty Minky, her Russian Blue cat, was doing digging around in the sumptuous pile of silk-covered bolsters, pillows, and throws at the head of her bed. "Meow-meow?" Blair playfully addressed the cat in the made-up cat language she'd used with Kitty Minky since she was nine years old. All of a sudden Kitty Minky let loose a stream of disgusting smelling cat pee. "No!" Blair shouted, hurling a putty-colored leather Monolo sandal at him. Kitty Minky leapt off the bed, but it was too late: Blair's rose-colored silk bedspread and throw pillows were soaked through. "Oh my!" Eleanor exclaimed, wringing her hands and looking like she was going to cry. "Oh dear me, what a mess," she added despairingly, her mood shifting abruptly from high to low. "Don't worry, Blair. You can sleep with me and Tyler in our room until Esther cleans this place up," Aaron offered. Tyler and Aaron's roomed smelled like beer and feet and tofu hot dogs and those foul herbal cigarettes Aaron was always smoking. Blair wrinkled her nose. "Id rather sleep on the floor in Yale's room," she responded miserably. Eleanor wrung her hands. "Oh, but baby Yale's in quarantine for the next few days. She picked up some sort of terrible face rash at the pediatrician's office when she was there for her checkup yesterday. Apparently it's very contagious." Ew. Blair's small blue eyes narrowed. She adored her baby sister, but she wasn't about to risk getting a rash, especially not a face rash. Which left a particular question unanswered: Exactly where the fuck was she supposed to sleep?! The penthouse was clearly uninhabitable, and while the Archibalds' house had seemed like an obvious choice only an hour ago, it had since turned into an after-school program for sixteen-year-old Nate-worshipping stoners. Serena's door was always open, but Serena's parents were kind of old-fashioned, and they probably wouldn't like it if Blair had a boy in her room with the door closed or whatever. Like Serena never had a boy in her room with the door closed?! Besides, Blair had already tried living with Serena for a few days that spring and they'd fought the whole time. Of course that was when Blair had been trying to seduce Serena's brother Erik in order to lure Nate away from that drugged-up lumber heiress he'd met in rehab. Still, now that she and Serena were friends again, it was best not to risk it. As if they wouldn't find something else to fight over. Blair pulled open the top drawer of the cruelty-free mahogany dresser. She had a credit card, and there were lots of nice hotels nearby. She grabbed a pair of clean white cotton Hanro underwear and a white tank top. The one benefit of wearing a uniform to school was packing light. And the benefit of packing light was that undoubtedly she would need something that she didn't have and would therefore have to buy at on of the three Bs: Bendel's, Berfdorf's, or Barneys. "Want to come see what Tyler's found out about our islands?" Aaron offered. "he's downloading a whole bunch of stuff right now." "The man I spoke to said the temperature on the islands is consistently between seventy-five and eighty-five degrees all year round," Eleanor added gleefully. She glanced at her gold Cartier chain-link wristwatch. "Phooey. I'm five minutes late for my Red Door makeup appointment." She giggled conspiratorially and clapped her hands together like a little girl. "Cyrus is taking me out to the four seasons tonight. I can't wait to surprise him with his present." Blair didn't even want to think about what her mom could have dreamed up to buy Cyrus. A whole country? "I'll probably be back to pick up a few things," she informed her mother. "And we're definitely need a new mattress, pillows, and sheets for this room. But I'm not sure if I'll even be coming back, you know, to live." Eleanor blinked dazedly at her daughter. After seventeen and a half years of being Blair's mother, she still didn't quite know what to make of her. "Just in case there's a civil war on your island or you new shipment of French underwear comes in, exactly where might you be reached?" Aaron demanded with an annoying wise-assed smirk. Blair smirked back. "The Plaza?" And preferably a suite.