A/N: This is the first of a series of drabbles I have written/ will write about the hot and scandalous summer sure to be had in the Hamptons. As per the usual, seeing as how I am neither Josh Schwartz nor Cecily von Ziegesar... please refrain from taking legal action against me?
The day was hot, sticky, and long. Blair lay on a lounge chair about twelve feet from the pool, working on her tan. Serena rested below, her bare feet just skimming the edge of the chlorinated water.
"I think I might want to go home," she said, tugging on the strap of her tank top. Blair surveyed Serena, who was wearing nothing but the lacy, spaghetti strap tank. Oh, and a thong. She self-consciously adjusted her own Michael Kors bikini. Damn her insecurities.
"You're kidding, right?" Blair said, knitting her eyebrows and running a fingernail along her left collarbone. Serena wrinkled her nose and shrugged.
"I don't know, B," she mused, "I mean, I'm torn." Blair rearranged her sunglasses and turned one-quarter turn to her right, in order to optimize her sun exposure. "I've been thinking about it, you know, an—"
"Oh, I know," Blair interjected, not altogether kindly. She sat up to take a drink out of her martini and lay back down again, fiddling with the jeweled bobby pin holding back her hair.
"I just, I mean, if he's hooking up with someone, honestly, I don't want to know." Serena tied her damp hair back with an elastic as she spoke. Blair bit on her pinky nail, scraping off the polish. She closed her eyes and tilted her chair up disdainfully. Serena remained cross legged on the tiled floor below.
"Don't worry, S," Blair said, rolling her eyes, "I know for a fact that there isn't a single soul alive who would even consider touching Cabbage Patch." Serena wrapped an arm around her knee and motioned as if she were about to start talking again.
Blair swished her free hand in midair, cutting her off. "Trust me. Not even with a ten-foot pole replete in rubbing alcohol." Blair replaced her drink and closed her eyes again. Case closed. Serena would stay.
A/N: Here's the deal, sweethearts. You're going to review my drabble so that I know that you actually read it and didn't just mindlessly click on it by mistake while attempting to read whatever obviously more glamorous story comes before and/or after mine on the list. Seriously, one word will suffice. "Cute!" and "Piece-of-shit." are examples of one-word reviews, in case you were confused. :)