《gossip girl 2 英文》

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gossip girl 2 英文- 第9部分


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most of us seventeen…year…olds; you lucky bitch。 —GG 

whatsup; gossip girl? last night some guys I know got a handfull of 
pills from some blond chick on the steps of the metropolitan 
museum of art。 they had the letter S stamped all over them。 


coincidence; or what? —N00name 
Dear N00name;Whoa; is all I have to say。—GG

3 GUYS AND 2 GIRLS 

I and K are going to have a little trouble fitting into those cute 
dresses they picked up at Bendel’s if they keep stopping in at the 3 
Guys Coffee Shop for hot chocolate and French fries every day。 I 
went in there myself to see what the fuss was about; and I guess I 
could say my waiter was cute; if you like ear fuzz; but the food is 
worse than at Jackson Hole and the average person in there is like; 
100 years old。

SightingsC was seen in Tiffany; picking up another pair of monogrammed 
cufflinks for a party。 Hello? I’m waiting for my invite。 B ’s mother 
was seen holding hands with her new man in Cartier。 Hmmm; 
when’s the wedding? Also seen: a girl bearing a striking 
resemblance to S; ing out of an STD clinic on the Lower East 
Side。 She was wearing a thick black wig and big sunglasses。 Some 
disguise。 And very late last night; S was seen leaning out her 
bedroom window over Fifth Avenue; looking a little lost。 
Well; don’t jump; sweetie; things are just starting to get good。 
That’s all for now。 See you in school tomorrow。 
You know you love me; 

“Wele back; girls;” Mrs。 McLean said; standing behind the 
podium at the front of the school auditorium。 “I hope you all had a 
terrific long weekend。 I spent the weekend in Vermont; and it was 
absolutely heavenly。” 
All seven hundred students at the Constance Billard School for Girls; 
kindergarten through twelfth grade; and its fifty faculty and staff 
members tittered discreetly。 Everyone knew Mrs。 McLean had a 
girlfriend up in Vermont。 Her name was Vonda; and she drove a 
tractor。 Mrs。 McLean had a tattoo on her inner thigh that said; “Ride 
Me; Vonda。” 
It’s true; swear to God。 
Mrs。 McLean; or Mrs。 M; as the girls called her; was their 
headmistress。 It was her job to put forth the cream of the crop— 
send the girls off to the best colleges; the best marriages; the best 
lives—and she was very good at what she did。 She had no patience 
for losers; and if she caught one of her girls acting like a loser— 
persistently calling in sick or doing poorly on the SATs—she would 
call in the shrinks; counselors; and tutors and make sure the girl got 
the personal attention she needed to get good grades; high scores; 
and a warm wele to the college of her choice。 
Mrs。 M also didn’t tolerate meanness。 Constance was supposed to 


be a school free of cliques and prejudice of any sort。 Her favorite 
saying was; “When you assume; you make an ass out of u and me。” 
The slightest slander of one girl by another was punished with a day 
in isolation and a seriously difficult essay assignment。 But those 
punishments were a rare necessity。 Mrs。 M was blissfully ignorant of 
what really went on in the school。 She certainly couldn’t hear the 
whispering going on in the very back of the auditorium; where the 
seniors sat。 
“I thought you said Serena was ing back today;” Rain 
Hoffstetter whispered to Isabel Coates。 
That morning; Blair and Kati and Isabel and Rain had all met on 
their usual stoop around the corner for cigarettes and coffee before 
school started。 They had been doing the same thing every morning 
for two years; and they half expected Serena to join them。 But 
school had started ten minutes ago; and Serena still hadn’t shown 
up。 
Blair couldn’t help feeling annoyed at Serena for creating even 
more mystery around her return than there already was。 Her friends 
were practically squirming in their seats; eager to catch their first 
glimpse of Serena; as if she were some kind of celebrity。 
“She’s probably too drugged up to e to school today;” Isabel 
whispered back。 “I swear; she spent like; an hour in the bathroom 
last night at Blair’s house。 Who knows what she was doing in there。” 
“I heard she’s selling these pills with the letter S stamped on them。 
She’s pletely addicted to them;” Kati told Rain。 
“Wait till you see her;” Isabel said。 “She’s a total mess。” 
“Yeah;” Rain whispered back。 “I heard she’d started some kind of 
voodoo cult up in New Hampshire。” 
Kati giggled。 “I wonder if she’ll ask us to join。” 
“Hello?” said Isabel。 “She can dance around naked with chickens all 
she wants; but I don’t want to be there。 No way。” 
“Where can you get live chickens in the city; anyway?” Kati asked。 
“Gross;” Rain said。 
“Now; I’d like to begin by singing a hymn。 If you would please rise 
and open up your hymnals to page forty…three;” Mrs。 M instructed。 
Mrs。 Weeds; the frizzy…haired hippie music teacher; began banging 
out the first few chords of the familiar hymn on the piano in the 
corner; then all seven hundred girls stood up and began to sing。 
Their voices floated down Ninety…third Street; where Serena van der 
Woodsen was just turning the corner; cursing herself for being late。 
She hadn’t woken up this early since her eleventh…grade final 
exams at Hanover last June; and she’d forgotten how badly it 
sucked。 


“Hark the herald angels si…ing! Glo…ry to the newborn king! Peaceon Earth and mercy mi…ild; God and sin…ners reconciled。” 

Constance ninth grader Jenny Humphrey silently mouthed the 
words; sharing with her neighbor the hymnal which Jenny herself 
had been missioned to pen in her exceptional calligraphy。 It had 
taken all summer; and the hymnals were beautiful。 In three years 
the Pratt Institute of Art and Design would be knocking her door 
down。 Still; Jenny felt sick with embarrassment every time they 
used the hymnals; which was why she couldn’t sing out loud。 To 
sing aloud seemed like an act of bravado; as if she were saying; 
“Look at me; I’m singing along to the hymnals I made! Aren’t I 
cool?” 
Jenny preferred to be invisible。 She was a curly…haired; tiny little 
freshman; so invisible wasn’t a hard thing to be。 Actually; it would 
have been easier if her boobs weren’t so incredibly huge。 At 
fourteen; she was a 34D。 
Can you imagine? 

“Hark the heavenly host proclaims; Christ i…is born in Beth…le…hem!” 

Jenny was standing at the end of a row of folding chairs; next to the 
big auditorium windows overlooking Ninety…third Street。 Suddenly a 
movement out on the street caught her eye。 Blond hair flying。 
Burberry plaid coat。 Scuffed brown suede boots。 New maroon 
uniform—odd choice; but she made it work。 It looked like 。 。 。 it 
couldn’t be 。 。 。 could it possibly 。 。 。 No! 。 。 。 Was it? 
Yes; it was。 
A moment later Serena van der Woodsen pushed open the heavy 
wooden door of the auditorium and stood in front of it; looking for 
her class。 She was out of breath and her hair was windblown。 Her 
cheeks were rosy and her eyes were bright from running the twelve 
blocks up Fifth Avenue to school。 She looked even more perfect than 
Jenny had remembered。 
“Oh。 My。 God;” Rain whispered to Kati in the back of 

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