S SEEN DEALING1 ON STEPS OF MET Well, we’re certainly off to a good start. You sent me tons of e-mail, and I had the best time reading it all. Thanks so much. Doesn’t it feel good to be bad?
Your E-Mail hey gossip girl, i heard about a girl up in New Hampshire who the police found naked a field, with a bunch of dead chickens. ew. they thought she was into some kind of voodoo shit or something. do you think that was S ? i mean it sounds like her, right? l8ter. –catee3 Dear Catee3,I don’t know, but I wouldn’t be surprised. S is a big fan of chickens. Once, in the park, I saw her eat a whole bucket of fried chicken without stopping for air. But supposedly she’d been hitting the bong pretty heavily that day.—GG Dear GG,My name starts with S and I have blond hair!!! I also just came back from boarding school to my old school in NYC. I was just so sick of all the rules, like no drinking or smoking or boys in your room. :( Anyway, I have my own apartment now and I’m having a party next Saturday—wanna come? :-)—S969 Dear S969, The S I’m writing about still lives with her parents like 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 metropolitan2 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.—GG3 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, coming out of an STD clinic on the Lower East Side. She was wearing a thick black wig3 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, “Welcome back, girls,” Mrs. McLean said, standing5 behind the podium at the front of the school auditorium6. “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 faculty7 and staff members tittered discreetly9. Everyone knew Mrs. McLean had a girlfriend up in Vermont. Her name was Vonda, and she drove a tractor. Mrs. McLean had a tattoo10 on her inner thigh11 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 forth12 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 acting13 like a loser— persistently14 calling in sick or doing poorly on the SATs—she would call in the shrinks, counselors15, and tutors and make sure the girl got the personal attention she needed to get good grades, high scores, and a warm welcome to the college of her choice. Mrs. M also didn’t tolerate meanness. Constance was supposed to be a school free of cliques16 and prejudice of any sort. Her favorite saying was, “When you assume, you make an ass4 out of u and me.” The slightest slander17 of one girl by another was punished with a day in isolation18 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 coming 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 celebrity19. “She’s probably too drugged up to come 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 completely addicted20 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 cult8 up in New Hampshire.” Kati giggled21. “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 hymn22. 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 herald23 angels si-ing! Glo-ry to the newborn king! Peaceon Earth and mercy mi-ild, God and sin-ners reconciled.”
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1 dealing | |
n.经商方法,待人态度 | |
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2 metropolitan | |
adj.大城市的,大都会的 | |
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3 wig | |
n.假发 | |
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4 ass | |
n.驴;傻瓜,蠢笨的人 | |
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5 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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6 auditorium | |
n.观众席,听众席;会堂,礼堂 | |
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7 faculty | |
n.才能;学院,系;(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
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8 cult | |
n.异教,邪教;时尚,狂热的崇拜 | |
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9 discreetly | |
ad.(言行)审慎地,慎重地 | |
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10 tattoo | |
n.纹身,(皮肤上的)刺花纹;vt.刺花纹于 | |
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11 thigh | |
n.大腿;股骨 | |
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12 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
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13 acting | |
n.演戏,行为,假装;adj.代理的,临时的,演出用的 | |
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14 persistently | |
ad.坚持地;固执地 | |
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15 counselors | |
n.顾问( counselor的名词复数 );律师;(使馆等的)参赞;(协助学生解决问题的)指导老师 | |
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16 cliques | |
n.小集团,小圈子,派系( clique的名词复数 ) | |
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17 slander | |
n./v.诽谤,污蔑 | |
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18 isolation | |
n.隔离,孤立,分解,分离 | |
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19 celebrity | |
n.名人,名流;著名,名声,名望 | |
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20 addicted | |
adj.沉溺于....的,对...上瘾的 | |
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21 giggled | |
v.咯咯地笑( giggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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22 hymn | |
n.赞美诗,圣歌,颂歌 | |
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23 herald | |
vt.预示...的来临,预告,宣布,欢迎 | |
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