Okay,this was not written por me,but I read it on fanfiction.net and I loved it!I hope you do too! Enjoy =)
She was fourteen.
After two days of student life in the High School building of Constance Billiard, she was finally getting it.
Nobody wore perfect uniform in the High School, thinking that a bright casaco and a light bracelet was pushing it.
The skirts were shorter, and not all plaid. The shirts and blouses were in a variety- some ruffled, some trimmed, some patterned; some chiffon, some cotton. The shoes were the Manolo Blahnik’s and Jimmy Choo’s which had previously been reserved for out of school. The legs were all the mais attractive to the boys who were now taught in the same building as the girls, unlike the lower and middle school, in their patterned or colored tights, stockings, knee socks and ankle socks.
Everyone had their little trademarks.
Amelia in tenth grade had quite the assortment of pearl earrings. Leanne in eleventh had an awful lot of gray cardigans. Becky in twelfth had rather nice corset belts.
She, Blair Waldorf of ninth, was going to surpass them all with her headbands.
Setting the red bow atop of her chocolate curls, she smiled happily into her vanity mirror.
Her outfit was the same; still with the traditional school color of navy prominent, she just added pops of red with a little bow belt, patterned tights, and crossed school tie around the neck of her ruffle fronted shirt.
Only one thing left- a touch of red lipstick in the same shade of everything.
Blair scanned herself critically all over as she passed the full length mirror on her way to breakfast.
Not bad, Blair.
Nate was going to amor it.
His girlfriend-since-kindergarten was today a lady to be proud of. Just a new freshman, but, in her opinion, ready to give each and every one of the seniors a run for their style values.
“Good morning, mother.” She sighed happily as she sat down opposite her, leaning progressivo, para a frente in the hopes Eleanor would notice at least one thing different about her that morning.
“Elbows off the table.” A sharp reply came from behind the sketchpad with it’s pinned-in swatches. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I have to go. Now. Five minutos ago, actually. Meeting, new collection. See you later.”
Blair received a kiss on the head as her mother stood up and made her way out of the dining area into the living, not a single comment about her hair, her blouse, her tie or anything.
“Mom!” Blair called out quickly, hoping a segundo look would produce something. She even stood up from her assento as Eleanor re-entered the room. “I-I wanted… to know, will you be back for dinner?”
A strange look, though not one that appeared to be taking anything in.
“Possibly.” Eleanor muttered, and walked away again.
Blair looked down at the floor.
“Oh, Blair, your tights…” Her mother called out over her shoulder, and Blair’s curls bounced as her head popped up again. “I thought red was your color, but they’re not flattering. The pattern rounds your calves, go for solid color. Please.”
That was it.
Blinking once or twice, Blair bit back any number of potential callings, tantrums, comebacks, tears, and left her breakfast untouched as she ran upstairs to quickly change her tights before school.
Not perfect just yet.It was like the first dia of freshman ano all over again.
Walking in to curious glances, eyes all over you in the courtyard.
Who’s that girl? Is she pretty? Is she rich? Is she a mini-socialite in the making?
Is she good enough?
Except this time, all the owners of the eyes knew who she was.
She was Blair Waldorf. Her mother was a designer meeting great acclaim. Her father was a lawyer and worked with a lot of their parents.
She was Serena furgão, van Der Woodsen’s best friend. Everyone knew Serena, before she came through the High School gates.
She was Nathaniel Archibald’s girlfriend. He was good at lacrosse, already on the team, an impressive accomplishment for a freshmen in his first week.
She was Charles Bass’s leering victim and friend. He was… Chuck Bass.
Blair Waldorf had the right background, the right parents, knew the right people, had the right friends, said and did the right things, and as of today, dressed the right way.
Quite daring for a freshman on her third day; few realised they were less likely to be eaten if they didn’t wear full uniform before the third week.
Fewer still did the change well at first.
Nobody did it quite as well as the Little Waldorf.
The boys of St Judes had spotted her, even those two or three years older. Very pleasing.
Blair only noticed one of the boys.
“Nate!” She called, speeding up to get to him sooner.
Today was the dia she was going to really show him that she was his girlfriend, always and forever.
The Perfect Girlfriend.
“Nate!” She pouted when he didn’t turn around from his friends, Matt and Chuck, ew, straight away.
He waved with his back still to her.
“Just a second, Blair.” He said dismissively. “Anyway, Mr. Isard said that my first game won’t be for a while, I need to train up with a different team in a different style to what I’m used to first, and my passing left-wing still needs some tuning, so-”
He sighed when his girlfriend grabbed his arm.
Sometimes he wanted guy time, not Blair time all the time.
“What?” He asked, a little mais harshly than intended.
“Nothing. You weren’t paying any attention to me.” She hoped that would get his attention to her.
To what she was wearing.
He had to notice.
“Well, maybe I can’t have my attention on you straight away every time I see you. I was talking.”
“I’m sorry,” Blair apologized softly, tilting her head downwards slightly, half in faux-regret and half in an attempt he would notice her very favorito item of clothing, her headband. “Could you talk to me too?”
“You don’t like lacrosse.”
She thought she had done everything right.
She thought it was perfect.
“But you do, so I will too.” She insisted.
That was what perfect girlfriends did.
Nate rolled his eyes.
“Fine. cadastrar-se the circle. But don’t ask stupid questions.”
Blair took her place seguinte to him, leaned on him slightly, resting her headband attired head against his forearm and shoulder.
He looked mais than a little pissed off when Matt sniggered at the gesture, and shrugged it off. Literally.
Nate carried on talking, but Blair barely listened.
She was looking down at herself, trying to work out the situation.
She was best dressed as she could be, but her mom didn’t notice, her boyfriend didn’t notice.
As far as she was concerned, nobody noticed.
Her eyes pooled a little with lost and hurt.
She just didn’t know what she had done wrong.
“Waldorf.” Chuck was touching her arm, waking her from her thoughts.
“Ew, what?” She snapped.
Chuck almost looked as though he swallowed.
“I was just going to say, you look nice today. The headband suits you.”
A small smile formed on Blair’s lips.
“Thank you, Bass.”
Serena’s voice could be heard from across the courtyard; she never cared if anyone thought she was being a little loud or a little too confident.
Not even today.
When she had adjusted her uniform, too.
The whole little círculo of four, including Nate mid-conversation, turned to look at her as she ran over.
“B, you look amazing!” She gushed, hugging her tightly.
Blair’s small smile stretched a little further.
Two vs. Two.
Maybe not the first choice priority two, but two important (well, one important and one Chuck, on segundo thought).
“Nice skirt, Serena.” Nate smirked as the two best friends broke apart from their embrace.
A lot of leg was showing on the taller, blonder one.
“Sensible shoes, too.” He continued, as his eyes continued to the bottom of the long tan legs, where a pair of high pumps finished them rather spectacularly.
“Had to play now that we’re in high school.” She commented. “But I’m so glad I’m not the first, and Blair did it too.”
Nate snapped back to attention, looking at his girlfriend and blinking once or twice as though he had just noticed she was there.
“Yeah, Blair, you look… cute.”
Serena beamed but Blair’s smile fell a little.
He only just noticed, and all he had to say was “… cute.”?
She should have tried harder.
Perfection wasn’t a natural affliction.
“Come on, B, I want to go to homeroom now so I can sit down before Mrs. perdiz sees my saia and has a chance to say anything. Please?”
Serena was smiling down at her.
With heels she was even taller.
“I’ll catch up,” Blair muttered. She didn’t fancy walking into homeroom seguinte to Serena on the first dia they had both made a uniform adjustment. “I need to talk to Nate about something.”
“Okay, then.” Serena shrugged, and bounced off without a segundo glance at anyone, despite everyone doing mais than glancing at her.
Blair couldn’t take her eyes off of her.
That was what Serena was.
That was what Blair would be.
“Eating Disorders are not diets. They are not health programmes. They are serious psychological problems, used not only to lose weight but to gain control in an uncontrollable way-”
Sixth period, the last before the bell.
PSHE. Psychological, Social and Health Education.
Nobody was listening.
Blair was looking out of the window, working out the quickest exit to get onto the courtyard before Nate so she could grab him and walk início with him.
She missed the way she knew every corridor and every exit of the Middle School building. The High School building was far mais prestigious, being the original, and much larger and generally better, but Blair didn’t really know it, yet.
She would. Soon.
“To reach unrealistic and often unset and unappealing levels of warped perfection-”
Blair perked up at the teacher’s last .
It had been running through her head for a while now.
Of course, she would never have an eating disorder.
Eating disorders weren’t perfect. Perfect people, perfect daughters, perfect friends, perfect girlfriends, did not have eating disorders.
The pictures the teacher was holding up didn’t even look perfect.
Rail thin girls, pale, weak, wispy hair.
They were disturbing.
“Oh my God.” Blair breathed when a picture of a girl with a blurred out face in a bikini was held up.
She looked like death.
Serena glanced at her best friend seguinte to her. She seemed a little too interested in the class.
“It’s horrible.” She whispered firmly.
Blair nodded slowly.
“Why would anybody do that to themselves?”
“I don’t know,” Serena said. “It’s not fair. Never do that to yourself, B.”
“Serena!?” Blair tried not to exclaim too loudly. “Why would you think I would?”
“I wouldn’t,” Her blonde friend muttered. “I just want you to promise me you never ever would even think about it. I don’t want to see my best friend turn into that.”
Blair rolled her eyes.
“Fine. But you promise too, because you are just as likely, which means not likely at all, to do it as me, and I don’t want to see you turn into one of… those… either.”
Serena stared at her.
Blair stared back.
“Then, I promise too.”
Her gaze broke as the seguinte sick picture was held up.
“Nate has lacrosse practise.”
Chuck came up behind Blair.
She had been looking around the courtyard, standing up on the balls of her feet every couple of seconds, looking for a blonde head upon lacrosse-toned shoulders.
“I’m not looking for Nate.” She said abruptly, huffing that her boyfriend hadn’t even bothered to tell her that he had practise.
“Good, then you’ll let me give you a ride.”
Blair eyes Chuck suspiciously.
“The limo.” He sighed.
Blair blushed, and followed.
Around Chuck, you never knew what he meant. He could easily have been implying anything with that little phrase, but it wasn’t until you had confirmation from him that you could be sure he really meant a ride home.
An innocent ride home.
In the nice, comfortable, but still innocent, limo- that she happened to love.
They both slipped in, and Chuck was doing the leering act he had begun on her recently.
“Red suits you.” He commented simply, glancing away.
Even without looking at her, he could see the little smile form again, the smile that had been forming all dia when anybody noticed her.
“Kati and Is liked your headband. They were telling everybody how much they liked it.”
“Really?” Blair asked, biting her lip in case she sounded too hopeful.
Chuck heard her tone, but didn’t say anything.
Just like he didn’t say that they had passed a comment about Blair’s headband looking sweet on her whilst having a big group discussion with everyone about how amazing Serena looked, and how many older St Judes boys she could introduce them to within a week, because por then she would definitely know all of them.
“Yes. Why, surprised?”
Blair wouldn’t have been at the beginning of the day, when she thought it was all just so…
Wearing different clothes, making a trademark.
But nobody other than Serena and Chuck had said anything; Nate’s “… cute.” hardly counted.
“You looked good, Waldorf. I was quite impressed.”
Blair didn’t know why Chuck’s opinion was comforting her.
She didn’t know why she said what she said next, either.
“Nate didn’t think so.”
She said it in a small voice, and it made Chuck look back at her.
His jaw twitched.
“Nate’s been full of being picked for the team in two days. He wouldn’t have noticed if you had come to school without any clothes.” Chuck looked thoughtful. “Actually, he might, don’t rule trying that one out. Please.”
Blair slapped his arm, but she was smiling a little mais as she did it.
“He noticed Serena.”
“That’s because she almost didn’t have any clothes on. See, I told you it might work if you tried it. Please.”
She liked that word.
It was almost perfect.
“Yes, yes I am.”
He was almost disappointed when they arrived outside her building.
He liked Blair. She was his best friend’s girlfriend, but she wasn’t like his best friend.
She had the qualities he lacked in an abundance.
She was like him; just retaining a little mais innocence.
“Bye, Chuck.” She said lightly, leaning over to open the door.
He watched her shut the car door behind her as she left him.
Blair ran her eyes up and down herself in the full length mirror in the entrance hall as she came out of the elevator.
Why was it she looked so different to how she looked this morning?
When did her curls disarrange, her saia hang crooked, her tie look straggly, her headband slip to the side, her body shorten and- widen?
Blair shook her head.
She wasn’t perfect, but that image was not her.
She must be tired.
Blair, not going to be início for dinner. Your father has gone to Sweden to work out a problem with the Visa of one of my models. I will be back after you’re in bed, be asleep por ten. Don’t wait up, beauty sleep is important.
Blair glared at the note.
Another night alone. Dorota was no companion lately, all she did was warn “Miss Blair” that being in High School did not mean that she had to conform to wayward students and try drugs, or drink excessively, or have sex.
Blair didn’t want to do any of those things. It would ruin her image.
She was the perfect one.
Or she tried to be.
She left a note of her own.
Dorota, gone to Serena’s for dinner. Be back before ten, I promise.
Lots and Lots and Lots of Love, Blair.x
She didn’t care if she missed dinner. If the mirror that afternoon had been mais accurate than she had give it credit for, she didn’t mind at all.
Just once, though.
She was not going to turn into one of those photo-girls from class.
She just needed the evening to find some mais clothes for a new uniform tomorrow.
To find perfection.
To be continued…