gossip girl 7 英文- 第15部分

〃Are　you　almost　ready；　dear？〃　Serena　heard　her　mother　call　out　to　her。　

〃Yeah；〃　she　called　back；　feeling　stubborn　and　grumpy　and　annoyed。　After　all；　she　could　have　been　
on　her　way　to　the　Raves　gig　right　now　instead　of　to　another　totally　boring　and　useless　party　with　
her　parents。　Ignoring　the　outfit　her　mother　had　selected　for　her；　she　sat　down　in　front　of　her　IMac　
and　logged　on。　Most　of　the　e…mails　were　from　fashion　houses　like　launch　a　signature　fragrance　or　
shoe；　but　a　new　message　from　someone　at　Brown　topped　the　list；　followed　by　a　message　from　


Harvard；　and　one　from　Princeton。　


To：　SvW@vanderWoodsen。　
From：　apainter@brown。edu　
Carina　Serena；　
I　used　to　paint　faceless　angels　and　hands　without　bodies。　I　used　to　be　dead。　Now　my　art　has　a　face；　


and　to　have　you　here　at　Brown　next　year…oh　living；　breathing　muse！　…would　be　my　resurrection。　
I　kneel　at　your　feet。　
Christian　


P。S　There　is　a　rumor　you　are　engaged　to　that　madman　lead　guitarist　in　the　Raves。　My　love；　I　pray　
this　is　only　a　rumor。　
To：　SvW@vanderWoodsen。　
From：　bboy@harvarduniversity。edu　

Dear　Serena；　

I　know　you　and　I　are　cut　from　a　different　cloth；　so　to　speak…　I'm　a　jock　from　the　boondocks　and　
you're　a　goddess　from　New　York　City…　but　to　quote　a　line　from　an　old　song；　I　just　can't　get　you　out　
of　my　head。　When　I　think　about　you；　the　windows　in　my　Jeep　steam　up　and　I　can't　breathe。　I'm　
going　to　fail　my　finals　because　of　you。　I　don't　think　they　make　you　repeat　grades　if　you　fail　a　term　
in　college　the　way　they　do　in　high　school；　but　I　wouldn't　mind　if　they　did；　because　then　we'd　be　
together　for　even　longer。　I　know　this　is　kind　of　crazy　to　say；　but　you're　my　girl；　so　you　better　e　
to　Harvard　next　year。　Here's　to　us　for　the　next　four　years　and　forever。　

Love；　

Wade　（your　Harvard　tour　guide's　roommate　…　remember　me？）　

To：　SvW@vanderWoodsen。　
From：　Sheri@PrincetonTriDs　

Dear　Serena；　

Just　wanted　to　know　that　we　can　NOT　stop　talking　about　how　you　and　Damian　from　the　Raves　are　
like　THE　perfect　couple！！　We　are　TOO　excited　to　meet　him；　but　first　we　have　to　take　down　all　the　
pictures　of　him　plastered　all　over　our　house…　SO　embarrassing！　Give　Damian　a　kiss　for　us；　and　tell　
him　we　love　him　too　（even　though　we'd　NEVER　try　to　steal　away　your　guy）。　


Love；　

Your　sisters；　the　Princeton　Tri　Delts　

Serena　winced　and　deleted　all　three　stalkerish　messages　from　her　puter；　hoping　to　delete　the　
last　one　from　her　brain。　There　was　nothing　worse　than　a　bunch　of　girls　pretending　to　be　your　best　
friends　when　you　didn't　even　know　them；　all　gossiping　about　you　and　your　new　rock　star　
boyfriend　whom　you'd　never　met。　Way　to　make　her　not　want　to　go　to　college　at　all！　

She　logged　off　without　reading　the　rest　of　her　mail　and　pulled　her　luxurious　fair　hair　back　into　a　
messy　ponytail　with　a　plain　white　rubber　band。　Then　she　smeared　her　lips　with　Vaseline　and　
opened　her　bedroom　door　to　look　for　her　parents。　

The　elder　van　der　Woodsens　had　their　own　suite　of　rooms　consisting　of　a　large　bedroom　with　a　
massive　four…poster　bed；　two　dressing　rooms　with　huge　walk…in　closets；　two　full　bathrooms；　and　a　
lounge　with　a　wet　bar　they　never　used；　a　plasma　TV　they　never　watched；　and　a　library　full　of　rare　
books　they　never　read；　because　they　were　always　out　at　charity　dinners　or　the　opera　or　watching　
polo　matches　up　in　Connecticut。　It　could　have　been　an　apartment　all　by　itself；　but　it　took　up　only　a　
quarter　of　the　van　der　Woodsens'　entire　Fifth　Avenue　spread。　

〃Didn't　you　see　the　clothes　I　laid　out　for　you？〃　her　mother　demanded；　sweeping　her　dark　blue　eyes　
despairingly　over　her　daughter。　Mrs。　Van　der　Woodsen　was　tall　and　fair　like　Serena；　with　the　same　
symmetrical　features；　which　had　grown　haughtily　handsome　with　age。　〃Jeans　with　holes　in　the　
behind　really　aren't　acceptable　for　this　sort　of　occasion；　don't　you　agree；　dear？〃　

〃They're　not　just　nay　old　jeans；〃　Serena　said；　looking　down　at　her　faded　pants。　〃They're　my　
favorites。〃　

Actually；　she　owned　around　twenty　pairs　of　jeans；　but　this　particular　pair　of　Blue　Cults　were　this　
week's　can't…live…without…them。　

〃The　skirt　and　blouse　I　chose　for　you　are　just　right；〃　her　mother　insisted。　She　buttoned　the　jacket　
of　her　gold　Chanel　suit　and　glanced　at　the　antique　platinum　Cartier　wristwatch　fastened　to　her　slim；　
Santo　Domingo…　tanned　wrist。　〃We're　leaving　in　five　minutes。　Your　father　and　I　will　be　reading　the　
newspapers　in　his　study。　Don't　be　difficult；　darling。　It's　just　a　party。　You　like　parties。〃　

〃Not　this　kind　of　party；〃　Serena　grumbled。　Her　mother　raised　her　thin　gray…blond　eyebrows　so　
fiercely　she　decided　not　to　mention　that　she'd　much　rather　see　the　Raves　play　than　schmooze　with　
a　bunch　of　kids　and　their　parents　all　gloating　about　the　fact　that　they'd　gotten　into　one　of　the　
toughest　colleges　to　get　into　in　the　world。　

Serena　went　back　to　her　room　and　grudgingly　changed　out　of　her　jeans　and　into　the　gray　pleated　
Marc　Jacobs　skirt　laid　out　on　her　bed；　pairing　it　with　a　beaded　aqua…colored　t…shirt　and　her　orange　
Miu　Miu　clogs　instead　of　the　boring　navy　blue　blouse　and　baby　blue　suede　Tod's　loafers　her　


mother　had　chosen。　
And　the　pearls？　Sorry；　mom。　
Her　last　effort　was　to　pull　out　the　messy　ponytail　and　run　her　fingers　through　her　pale　blond　hair。　


Then；　without　even　a　glance　in　the　mirror；　she　strode　out　of　her　room　and　into　the　front　hall。　
If　only　we　could　all　be　so　sure　of　our　exquisite　beauty。　
〃Mom！　Dad！　I'm　ready！〃　she　trilled；　trying　to　sound　excited　about　it。　She'd　give　the　party　five　or　


ten　minutes…　just　enough　time　for　her　parents　to　get　involved　in　some　supremely　boring　and　
involved　conversation　with　Stanford　Parris　III　or　one　of　the　other　ancient　dull　Yale　alumni　who'd　
been　attending　these　parties　for　centuries；　than　she'd　slip　out　and　head　downtown　to　the　Raves　gig。　

After　all；　if　she　was　going　to　spend　the　next　four　years　being　intellectual；　she　needed　to　enjoy　
herself　while　she　had　the　chance。　
As　if　she　didn't　always　enjoy　herself。　


DRIFTING；　DRIFTING；　OVER　THE　OCEAN　BLUE！　

Jeremy；　Charlie；　and　Anthony　would　not　shut　up　about　Bermuda；　so　when　they　got　onboard　the　
Charlotte；　named　after　Nate's　paternal　grandmother；　Nate　did　a　search　for　ports　in　Bermuda　on　the　
boat's　puter　and　then　programmed　Horseshoe　Bay　into　the　navigational　system。　He　set　the　
motor　for　。5　miles　per　hour。　That　meant　they　were　headed　to　Bermuda　very　slowly。　In　fact；　even　
though　they'd　left　the　dock　in　lower　Manhattan　nearly　twenty　hours　ago；　they　were　only　drifting　
past　Coney　Island；　in　Brooklyn。　

Friday　night　had　oozed　into　Saturday　night；　and　the　sun　hung　low　over　Staten　Island　as　the　
sailboat　motored　slowly　southward。　The　air　was　cooler　than　on　land　and　smelled　like　wet　dog。　
Nate　and　everyone　else　on　the　boat　remained　stoned；　sprawled　on　deck　wit　their　eyes　half　closed　
and　their　mouths　hanging　lazily　open；　or　drifting　languidly　below　decks　in　bare　feet　to　replenish　


their　stashes　of　beer　and　snacks。　

It　had　dawned　only　recently　that　Blair　wasn't　onboard。　He　recalled　that　she'd　called　him　last　night　
from　the　Plaza；　and　that　he'd　sort　of　blown　off　meeting　her。　Of　cou