Blair chases Serena out of Hamhocks into the street and lies at length about how she'd be totally chill with just giving up and not being in Hamilton House because they are stupidheads and whatever. Serena points out that yes, they are stupidheads, but also she's not a total social climber like Blair and could give a shit about Hamilton House, which has only bitches in it from what she can tell. Or, in her words: "It's much more Right Bank." Blair kisses her full on the mouth, grabs a piece of thigh, and says they'll hit Sorella for first-day dinner, as a sort of last-ditch stab at respectability for turning her back so very obviously on her BFF. She nearly trips on the steps getting that ass back inside for some good old-fashioned hazing. Such is her velocity.
Desperate for friends, Serena calls Dan but he's running up his phone bill trying to find Georgina by calling each and every spoiled people spa in the West Indies one by one. She runs into Nate, but he's pissy and man-bangy in every sense of the word, and doesn't want to talk to her or start a pretend club with her or anything. He salts the wound by heading into Hamhocks, where he's apparently the sole male member? (There's a story there but who's got the time and anyway, you can fill in the blanks.) What will Serena do without her friends? Her three friends?
Paging Carter Baizen, he makes everything better. So yeah, Rufus runs home to yell at Lily for accepting a visit from her son, whom she's known since he was a child and possibly the only person on this show who even understands her, and she just tells Rufus to stop being a dick. "He's trying to make amends, take responsibility. What else is there?" How much time you got? Rufus has whining to spare. Eventually Lily just overrules his trophy ass and tells him Mama says Chuck's coming to FNO and if Rufus wants waffles to stay on the menu he better fall in line, resulting in this amazing piece of dialogue: "Well, Jenny keeps telling me it wasn't his fault. Maybe it's time I believed her."
Maybe it's fucking time you believed her? Yeah, there's a fucking revolutionary thought. This is so gross, it's such a gross storyline. I mean, it's real, it's gross because it's real, but let me see if I can explain. I'm a big proponent of "You're not old enough to do it until you can talk about it." But the other side of that coin is, "If she's old enough to talk about it, she's old enough to make her own decisions." Maybe if you hadn't thrown her ass to the wolves and Terry Richardson the second she threatened to eclipse you as an artist, I'd feel differently. (I did give Bart a pass when he did this shit with Serena, because she was begging for it.) But the fact is that your daughter's sexuality stops being your possession the second she has one.