gossip girl 12 终结-第22部分

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Bitchfest　at　Barneys？



hey　people！

everything　old　is　new　again

Maybe　you　dusted　off　your　white　Oscar　de　la　Renta　mencement　dress　and　repurposed　it　for　your　angel　costume　this　Halloween。　Maybe　you　stole　a　few　of　your　mom’s　vintage　Pucci　dresses　from　her　closet　over　Thanksgiving　and　now　wear　them　to　cocktail　parties。　Or　maybe　you　just　keep　bringing　up　that　story　about　how　you　used　to　be　friends　with　Hollywood’s　latest　It　Girl。

The　point　is；　things　that　seemed　same…old　in　high　school　take　on　a　shiny　newness　in　college。　That　rule　applies　to　the　people　in　our　lives；　too。　Which　is　why　I；　for　one；　can’t　say　I’m　surprised　that　S　and　N　were　spotted　getting　hot　and　heavy　in　a　darkened　corner　of　the　Bass　suite　at　the　Tribeca　Star　on　New　Year’s　Eve。　So　why　was　N　seen　leaving　S’s　Perry　Street　abode　at　the　ungodly　hour　of　9　a。m。　on　New　Year’s　Day？

the　walk　of　shame

N’s　walk　home　reminds　me：　It’s　time　for　a　refresher　course　on　graceful　exits　from　overnight　arrangements。　While　it　may　not　be　on　the　official　college　syllabus；　the　walk　of　shame　is　a　test　everyone　must　plete　at　least　once。　You’re　practically　guaranteed　to　run　into　someone　you　know。　So　hold　your　head　up　high；　and　remind　yourself　that　they’re　strolling　the　campus　at　8　a。m。　on　a　Sunday；　too。

sightings

V　and　her　boyfriend　H　having　brunch　at　Egg；　the　inexplicably　popular　breakfast　joint　in　Williamsburg；　throwing　around　phrases　like　development　exec　and　gross　points。　Could　V　be　making　the　move　to　the　big　time？　And　will　any　of　us　be　invited　to　make　cameo　appearances？　Better　get　ready　for　your　close…up！　S　at　Doma；　the　coffee　shop　near　her　apartment；　reading　The　New　Yorker　and　looking　forlorn—until　she　flipped　a　page；　and　her　face　lit　up。　Maybe　poetry　is　good　for　the　soul。　A　very　drunk　D　and　a　ruddy…faced　older　Irish　man　at　a　pub　on　Upper　Broadway；　noisily　reciting　Joyce。　Poetry　may　be　good　for　their　souls　too；　but　can　they　keep　it　down？

your　e…mail

q：　Dear　Gossip　Girl；

Hello。　I’m　a　sous　chef　at　the　restaurant　of　an　exclusive　downtown　hotel；　and　we’ve　been　getting　quite　a　few　room　service　requests　from　the　same　patron。　I　was　curious；　so　yesterday　I　delivered　the　order　myself。　She’s　very　beautiful；　but　looks　very　sad。　How　do　I　let　her　know　that　I　would　be　happy　to　hang　out　while　she　eats　her　omelet　without　seeming　creepy？

—topchef

a：　Dear　Top　Chef；

I　hate　to　disappoint　you；　but　if　you’re　talking　about　the　same　tragic　brunette　beauty　I　know；　I　think　what　she　needs　right　now　is　some　time　to　herself。　If　you’d　like　to　do　something　for　her；　I　suggest　a　plementary　order　of　cheese　fries；　onion　rings；　or　any　other　too…bad…to…order　foods　all　girls　secretly　love。

—GG

q：　Dear　Gossip　Girl；

I　can’t　wait　to　get　to　college。　Or　at　least　get　a　college　boyfriend。　Should　I　graduate　early？　Show　up　at　my　sister’s　campus；　even　though　she　never　invites　me？　Advice　please！

—mature

a：　Dear　Mature；

While　it’s　always　admirable　to　aspire　to　a　position　greater　than　the　one　you　currently　occupy；　why　the　rush？　High　school　may　seem　tedious；　and　your　uniforms　may　seem　tacky。　But　trust　me；　you’ll　miss　it　when　it’s　over。

—GG

q：　Dear　Gossip　Girl；

My　girlfriend　and　I　are　visiting　her　hometown；　and　she’s　been　acting　kind　of　strange。　She　hasn’t　introduced　me　to　any　of　her　old　friends　from　high　school。　It’s　like　she’s　trying　to　hide　something。　What　do　you　think？

—New　Boy

a：　Dear　NB；

There　are　a　few　possible　explanations：　Maybe　she’s　shy。　Maybe　she’s　hiding　some　skeletons　in　her　closet。　Maybe　she　just　wants　to　keep　you　all　to　herself。　Or　maybe　she　just　doesn’t　want　to　introduce　a　paranoid　weirdo　to　her　friends。

—GG

theory　in　action

In　literary　theory；　a　liminal　space　is　somewhere　in　between—a　place　that’s　neither　here　nor　there。　I　think　it’s　safe　to　say　we’re　at　a　liminal　space　in　our　lives：　We’re　not　teenagers；　but　we’re　not　quite　adults。　At　times　we’re　being　chastised　by　our　parents　for　not　calling；　at　others；　we’re　starting　internships　at　panies　we　might　want　to　work　for　someday；　in　our　real；　adult　lives。　My　advice：　Instead　of　worrying　about　who　you　were　or　what　you’ll　bee；　try　to　just　enjoy　the　moment。

You　know　you　love　me；

gossip　girl

boys　should　always　ask　for　directions

Nate　lumbered　into　the　kitchen　of　his　town　house　Friday　morning；　in　search　of　food。　His　raging　booze　and　pot　hangover　had　finally　dissipated　enough　for　him　to　roll　out　of　bed。　He　felt　disgusting；　like　one　of　the　frogs　that　lived　at　the　bottom　of　the　pond　at　Deep　Springs。

How　far　our　golden　boy　has　fallen…。

He　opened　the　door　to　the　Sub…Zero　refrigerator　and　pulled　out　a　Jell…O　chocolate　pudding　snack　pack。　Not　bothering　to　get　a　spoon；　he　tore　open　the　foil　wrapper　and　licked　the　top　of　the　pudding。　It　was　good。　And　simple。　Just　the　way　life　should　be。　Life　only　got　plicated　once　you　started　interacting　with　people。　But　who　needed　that　when　he　had　food；　shelter；　and　plenty　of　pudding　and　Pop…Tarts？

Nate　reached　into　the　pocket　of　his　cords　and　pulled　out　the　roach　that　had　been　stuck　in　the　folds　of　his　pocket。　He’d　slept　in　them　last　night　because　it　had　seemed　like　too　much　effort　to　change。　This　was　the　last　of　his　supply。　He’d　definitely　have　to　call　Jeremy　or　Anthony　for　a　hookup；　which　was　unfortunate；　because　he　didn’t　want　any　human　contact。　He　wasn’t　very　good　pany　right　now。　Chips　was　dead。　He’d　hurt　Serena。　Blair　had　a　boyfriend。　The　three　people　he　cared　about　most　in　the　world；　and　he　couldn’t　reach　out　to　any　of　them。

The　past　few　days　had　gone　by　in　a　blur。　He　liked　the　way　the　hours　bled　into　each　other　in　front　of　the　television；　especially　after　he　fired　up　his　bong。　Oprah　had　featured　teen　entrepreneurs　the　other　day。　There　was　one　kid　who　made　jellyfish　tanks　instead　of　going　to　college。　Maybe　he　could　drop　out　of　school　and　do　something　like　that。

Nate　inhaled　deeply　from　the　joint。　He　sat　at　the　large　marble　island　in　the　center　of　his　family’s　French　country…style　kitchen；　feeling　contented。　Maybe　this　was　happiness。

And　maybe　someone　needs　to　change　his　pants　and　climb　out　of　his　pot　haze？

Just　then；　the　doorbell　rang　a　pleasant　three…tone　chime。　Fuck。　Nate　ignored　it　and　took　another　hit。　Then　he　felt　his　iPhone　buzzing　in　his　pocket。　He　slipped　it　out　and　glanced　at　the　display。　Chuck。

“Hello？”　Nate　croaked。

“Open　the　door；”　Chuck　said。

“No；”　Nate　said　lamely。　He　didn’t　want　Chuck　to　see　him　in　this　state。　“I’m　in　the　shower；”　he　added　nonsensically。

“No；　you’re　not；”　Chuck　responded　matter…of…factly　as　the　chime　filled　the　house　again。　It　didn’t　sound　pleasant　at　all　anymore。　It　made　Nate　feel　like　his　brain　was　going　to　explode。

He　sulkily　pulled　open　the　large　oak　door　and　crossed　his　arms。　Chuck　pulled　off　his　Gucci　aviators　and　coolly　appraised　Nate。　“You’re　a　mess；”　he　said　finally。

Thank　you；　Mr。　Observant。

Chuck　brushed　past　him　through　the　entryway　and　into　the　kitchen。　Nate　trailed　behind。　It　wasn’t　like　he　had　a　choice。　Chuck　wrinkled　his　nose　at　the　disarray。　A　joint　lay　on　the　counter；　a　pizza　box　and　some　random　takeout　containers　were　shoved　in　the　sink；　and　a　pile　of　dirty　shirts　formed　a　messy　trail　from　the　kitchen　to　the　winding　staircase　that　led　to　Nate’s　room。　This　was　what　happened　when　he　was　left　to　his　own　devices。　His　parents　had　gone　on　their　annual　vacation　to　St。　Barts　a　few　days　ago—they’d　postponed　their　trip　because　of　Chips’s　funeral—and　their　maid；　Regina；　was　on　vacation　until　tomorrow。

“What　are　you　doing　here？”　Nate　asked　lamely　as　he　kicked　one　of　the　T…shirts　out　of　the　way。

“Inviting　myself　over　for　a　cocktail？”　Chuck　said　sarcastically。　He　shook　his　head　in　annoyed　frustration；　as　if　he　were　disappointed　in　Nate。　Join　the　club。　Nate　was　disappointed　in　himself。

Chuck　walked　to　the　stainless　steel　Sub…Zero　refrigerator；　pulled　out　a　Corona；　and　pried　the　cap　off　with　his　teeth；　a　trick　all　Deep　Springs　students　learned　their　first　week　on　campus。　“This　will　do；”　he　said；　taking　a　small　sip　and　holding　it　out　to　Nate　in　a　mock　toast。

“Can　I　offer　you　something？”　he　asked　politely；　as　if　Nate　had　just　randomly　shown　up　in　Chuck’s　kitchen。

“No。”　Nate　shook　his　head。　“Listen；　Chuck；　I’m　kind　of　busy。　Why　are　you　here？”

Chuck　raised　an　eyebrow。　“You　know；　Nathaniel；　I’ve　been　thinking　a　lot　about　you；”　he　began；　as　if　he　were　ready　to　barrel　into　a　speech　on　philosophy；　like　he　usually　did　after　a　few　ginger　beers　back　at　Deep　Springs。　“You　won’t　answer　my　calls。　I　saw　you　partying　pretty　hard　on　New　Year’s。　And　you　look　like　you　haven’t　stopped；”　Chuck　said；　taking　note　of　the　empty　cans　on　the　granite　counter。　“What　the　fuck　is　up？”　He　perched　on　one　of　the　stools　and　raised　a　dark　eyebrow。

Nate　sighed。　Chuck　obviously　wasn’t　going　to　leave　until　he’d　heard　his　life　story。　“I　hooked　up　with　Serena　the　other　night；”　he　finally　admitted。

Chuck　raised　a　hand　up　for　a　high　five；　impressed。　Nate　kept　his　arms　firmly　at　his　sides。　Chuck　shrugged；　lowering　his　hand。　“I　fail　to　see　why　that’s　a　bad　thing。　After　all；　you’ve　known　her　forever；　you　lost　your　virginity　to　her；　she’s　always　been　there　for　you…。　I　mean；　what’s　the　problem？”

“I　know。”　Nate　sighed　heavily　and　sat　at　the　table；　his　forehead　cradled　in　his　hands。　He　was　just　so　fucking　confused。　Serena　was　great。　Blair　was　great。　Blair　had　a　boyfriend。　Both　of　them　hated　him。

“Technical　difficulties？”　Chuck　asked。

Nate　shook　his　head。　“The　next　morning；　I　brought　up　Blair；　and　Serena　just　totally　closed　off　and　kicked　me　out。　She　probably　thinks　I　still　have　feelings　for　Blair。”　Nate　paused。　“And　I　guess　I　do；　even　though　Blair　has　a　boyfriend。”

“You　have　a　hard　life；　Nathaniel；”　Chuck　scoffed。

“I　know　I’m　being　a　pussy。　But　every　time　I　e　home；　I　make　a　mess。　Maybe　I’m　better　off　not　ing　home。　Just　leaving　New　York　totally；”　Nate　said　bluntly。　Only　a　year　ago；　it　would　have　felt　extremely　gay　to　talk　about　his　emotions　with　another　guy。　But　now；　after　all　his　time　at　Deep　Springs；　he　was　okay　with　it。　Maybe　he　needed　to　get　back　there—and　never　leave。

“What　would　El　Capitan　say？”　Chuck　prodded。

Nate　sat　up；　suddenly　remembering　the　letter　Chips’s　sister　had　given　him。　He　hadn’t　felt　ready　to　open　it　before。　He’d　needed　more　time　to　process　things。

And　by　“process”　he　means　smoke　and　drink　himself　into　oblivion。

“The　letter；”　Nate　said　simply。　Maybe　Chips　did　have　something　to　say。　For　the　first　time　since　the　funeral；　he　felt　optimistic。

“Good　idea。　I’ll　let　you　be　alone；”　Chuck　said；　finishing　off　his　beer　and　sliding　off　the　stool。　“Look；　I’m　heading　to　Aspen　tomorrow。　You　should　e。　Or　at　least　promise　you’re　not　going　to　freak　out　again。　Okay？”　Chuck　locked　eyes　with　Nate。

“Thanks；　man。”　Nate　walked　him　to　the　door。　“I’ll　think　about　Aspen；”　he　lied　to　Chuck’s　retreating　back。　Then　he　ran　upstairs　and　yanked　open　the　top　drawer　of　his　Chippendale　desk。　He　pulled　out　the　wrinkled　cream　envelope。　It　felt　weighted　and　heavy。　Instantly；　Nate　knew　what　it　was。

He　slid　his　index　finger　under　the　envelope　flap；　ripped　it　open；　and　allowed　Chips’s　antique　silver　pass　to　drop　into　his　palm。　It　looked　tarnished　and　worn　and