Free Don't You Forget About Me by Cecily von Ziegesar Page A

mother, but did that really mean she had to fly to New York and ruin his life? “Well, um, thanks,” he finally stammered.
    “Now!” Jeanette blinked her eyes rapidly and grabbed his hand. “Your darling boyfriend was just teaching me how to make Cosmopolitans!” Dan frowned. Boyfriend? He looked across the room and was shocked to see Greg at the kitchen counter wearing a pair of brown American Apparel cargo pants rolled just past the knees, rainbow suspenders, and a crisp white T-shirt, vigorously shaking a chrome cocktail shaker, his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. Dan lifted a hand in a tentative wave, trying to look cheerful, and walked over with his mother at his heels.
    “Hey!” Greg grinned widely as he approached, putting down the martini shaker. He opened his arms to give Dan a hug, his shaggy blond hair falling into his eyes. “Sorry I didn’t tell you I was coming back—I wanted it to be a surprise, and I wouldn’t have missed this for the world,” he whispered, his breath tickling Dan’s neck. “My parents didn’t do anything
half
this nice when I came out to them last year.” He gave Dan an extra squeeze before releasing him.
    “Thanks,” Dan said, stepping back from Greg’s arms. “It was, uh, sweet of you to come back for this. How did my mom, um, find you?” He took a nervous sip of his way-too-sweet drink. As a rule, he liked bitter drinks—truly lousy black coffee and vodka straight from the bottle. This punch was way too . . . fruity.
    Better learn to love it!
    “Oh, I just went through your e-mails,” Jeanette piped in. “Your gmail was open when I borrowed your computer. What a writer this Greg is!” She patted him affectionately on the head, and Dan noticed that Vanessa had followed them into the kitchen and was now zooming in on Dan’s red face.
    “I’ve been showing Greg here the most
adorable
pictures of you, Daniel!” Jeanette linked her arm through Greg’s and grabbed a worn manila envelope off of the kitchen counter with her other hand. Dan watched in horror as his mother released Greg and proceeded to spread out a bunch of creased old photos of Dan as a kid on the kitchen counter-top. “I was just telling Greg how funny you were as a little boy—whenever you played dress-up, you always raided my closet. Dresses and jewelry, the sparklier the better!” Dan stared down uncomprehendingly at a photograph of himself at five years old, dressed in a frilly purple cocktail dress, his hips cocked defiantly.
    “And you see!” Jeanette continued, tapping a sloppily painted rainbow nail against the photograph. “He was always stealing my lipstick, too!” Greg and Jeanette chuckled together, lightly touching each other’s arms.
    “I did the exact same thing when I was a kid!” Greg giggled. “And yet my parents were somehow surprised when I came out—can you
even
?” “Oh, we always suspected things might turn out this way.” Jeanette smiled admiringly, reaching over to smooth down Dan’s messy brown hair.
    Dan looked up to see if Vanessa was still filming, but she seemed to have headed back into the living room, probably to do some interviews on who had known he was gay when. He sighed. Dan knew his mom’s heart was in the right place, but he couldn’t help but feel squeamish seeing himself as a girl-boy and having it implied that his gayness had been practically predetermined. Had everyone known all along? Looking at the photographs of him wearing dresses and tap shoes, hugging plush stuffed animals, his mother’s lipstick ringing his mouth, the evidence seemed irrefutable.
    Suddenly Chuck Bass appeared from the direction of the bathroom. What was
he
doing here? Chuck was dressed in a white tank top that showed off his ridiculously tan and buff summer body, and a pair of aqua-and-pink flowered Hawaiian shorts. A rainbow-colored lei hung around his neck, the petals bright against his dark skin. His ever-present white snow monkey, Sweetie, was