[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

dad?"
"Yup," Dan replied happily. "He said okay. But if my grades slip and if I don't have dinner with
him and Jenny at least twice a week, I have to move back home." He pulled Vanessa's arms away and
dove headfirst into her chest. Vanessa hugged his shaggy head and closed her eyes. She'd only drunk a
Coke that night, but the bed was still spinning. She and Dan were in love again. They were moving in
together. They might even go to NYU together. It was almost too perfect to believe.
And how often does anything ever stay that perfect?
gossipgirl.co.uk
topics previous next post a question reply
Disclaimer: All the real names of places, people, and events have been altered
or abbreviated to protect the innocent. Namely, me.
HEY, PEOPLE!
Love how half the senior class is absent from school today. I also
wanted to point out something you may have missed during last night's
debauchery. Someone actually a known-him-since-kindergarten friend of
ours was conspicuously absent from last night's proceed-ings. Here's why.
The dude who got in NOWHERE
He's always been so cocky about everything, no one had the slight-est
doubt he'd get in wherever he wanted to go. It never occurred to any of us
that his cockiness might offend his teachers so much that they refused to give
him recommendations; that his over-the-top I'm-a-male-runway-model style of
dressing and suggestions that his fam-ily buy the school he decided to attend
outright might turn interview-ers off; that he was too cocky or too lazy or both
to take the SAT more than once; or that he'd send with his applications a
videotape of him-self overacting in an interschool musical that he didn't even
star in, instead of an application essay.
And so he was rejected. Not four or five times, but nine. Nine
rejections. Ouch! Even the worst scumbag deserves some sympathy for that.
But I'm sure he'll find a way to wheedle his way in somewhere. He always
does.
Your e-mail
Dear GG,
I'm an administrator at a prestigious East Coast university and
i'm traveling to New York this weekend to meet a prospective student.
Our university wants him to attend next fall, so it's mandatory that I
make a good impression. I hope you don't mind my asking, but what do
you value most in a school? More impor-tant, what should I wear this
weekend?
 adminchik
Dear adminchik,
I did enough college interviewing not to want to take your
ques-tions seriously if I don't have to. What are the fries like in your
school's dining halls? If you ask me, that's pretty important. As for what
to wear while you're wooing this highly desirable appli-cant? Orange is
the new black.
 GG
Sightings
N escorting B home from True West, while the rest of us were only
just getting the party started. S dancing by herself at the aforemen-tioned
party although I'm pretty sure that group of guys behind her wanted to think
they were dancing with her. J loading up on nail pol-ish, hair-removal kits, and
henna at the twenty-four-hour Duane Reade on Broadway. V and D stumbling
out of the Pier Hotel this morning, just in time for school. C, with his monkey,
drinking alone on the ter-race of his Sutton Place apartment. We might even
feel sorry for him if he weren't so impossible to feel sorry for.
Oops, that's the bell. More later!
You know you love me,
gossip girl
see j bounce
Jenny had always been lauded for her excellent calligraphy and detailed, accurate copies of the
major works of classic artists. The handy thing about being artistic and a good copier was that she could
forge notes, like this morning's note from her dad about a supposed "allergist appointment" downtown.
She sniffled grotesquely as she handed it to her math teacher, Ms. Hinckle. In the back of the room, Elise
tucked her straw-thick blond hair behind her ears and pre-tended not to eavesdrop.
"Next time, try to schedule your appointments after school," Ms. Hinckle instructed, dropping
the note on her desk. She waved Jenny away. "Now shoo."
"Thanks," Jenny responded sheepishly. Ms. Hinckle was old and treated all of the girls like her
grandchildren, bak-ing them oatmeal cookies and making them Christmas cards and caramel apples.
Jenny felt kind of bad taking advantage of the kindly teacher, but her career was at stake. This was
important!
The go-see Serena had e-mailed her about was in a photog-rapher's studio on West Sixteenth
Street. A bunch of tall skinny girls with pouty lips and blond hair were smoking cigarettes on the sidewalk
downstairs. Models, Jenny thought, trying not to feel intimidated.
She rang the buzzer for the third-floor studio and was buzzed into a dark space that looked like
some sort of loading dock with a corrugated-steel-lined freight elevator. Jenny stepped onto the elevator
and pressed 3, trying not to feel as terrified as she actually did.
"Hello?" A tall, pointy-chinned woman wearing a white patent leather beret, black leather short
shorts, and white knee-high suede boots greeted Jenny as she stepped off the elevator. "Are you lost?"
Jenny realized she probably should have changed out of her Constance uniform, but it was too
late now. "I'm here for the go-see?" She still wasn't even sure what a go-see was exactly, but it certainly
sounded cool.
"Oh." The woman looked her up and down. "May I see your book?"
Jenny glanced down at her book bag. "My book?"
The woman gave her the once-over again, and pointed to an empty chair between two
bored-looking blond models. "Sit down. I'll call you when he's ready." Then she stepped behind a white
screen where Jenny could see a camera flash flashing and the shadows of bodies moving around the
room. Suddenly a cacophony of hysterical laughter bounced off the studio's pounded tin ceilings, giving
Jenny the shivers.
She glanced at the girl next to her. The girl was chewing gum, her eyelids drooping heavily like
she'd been up all night. Jenny looked away and tried to make her eyelids droop in the same cool,
affected way, but her eyeballs kept rolling back in her head. More Night of the Living Dead than cool,
bored model.
The woman in the beret came out from behind the screen. "You." She pointed at Jenny. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]