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totally glamorous。 Blair was thrilled。 This was her place。 This was her party。 Sure； the movie
might be ending； but really； summer was just beginning。
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Disclaimer： All the real names of places； people； and events have been altered or abbreviated to
protect the innocent。 Namely； me。
hey people！
Oh。 My。 God。 I didn？t think it was possible to have the kind ofhangover I am currently suffering
through； but then it？s myown fault： when am I going to learn not to overdo it on thechampagne？
Then again； I always have been the life of theparty。 And what a party！ I？m sure those of you who
were luckyenough to be in attendance will agree： the second…biggest；bestest blowout of the
summer。 Looks like someone is shapingup to be the hostess with the mostest； don？t you think？
mix and match
Dying to know who went home with whom？ I？ve got the full dossier：
T is indeed a one…man guy。 The second the party ended hegrabbed the first available cab and sped
down to the Mercer；where he met up with his secret sweetie。 I hear the two ofthem spent the next
forty…eight hours ensconced in the honeymoon suite。
That fabulous designer； the one who insists on wearing his mirrored Ray…Ban aviators inside at
night； lured that dreamboatDJ back to his manse on Park Avenue； no doubt with the promise of a
free outfit from his new menswear line。 Wonder if the DJ will be spinning vinyl out in the
Hamptons for the restof the summer 。。。
S went to bed alone。 Will wonders never cease？
D and V shared a taxi back to his？um； their place on the Upper West Side； but the romance is
officially dead。 Separate bedrooms； people。 Separate bedrooms。
N was spotted on a very late…night LIRR train out to the island； all alone。 So what became of 。 。 。
Trashy bottled…tan…and…bottle…blond girl？ She and C kept the party going； hitting the club circuit
and ending up at Bungalow 8 at 5 a。m。 They still haven？t been heard from。
Want to know why S went to bed alone？ Because her roomie was crashed out downstairs。 But B
was definitely not alone。。。。
if we took a holiday 。。。
People； let？s not forget that the summer was made for relaxing。 July is just around the corner； and
by the time Bastille Day rolls around （isn？t that someone？s birthday？） we？ll officially be halfway
through the break。 There will be plenty of time for work e fall； for midterms and fraternity
mixers and worrying about interviewing for the best internships for next summer。 This is our time
to play； so get down to business and just 。 。 。 chill。 Oh； who am I kidding？ In this town； we never
just chill！ Okay； maybe N does； but the rest of us never slow down。 Speaking of never slowing
down 。 。 。
WillB break another heart？ She？s already cast aside two suitors； and it？s not even July！
WillS be able to adjust to life without the cameras rolling？ Will she share the limelight with B in
the Hamptons； or will she go Hollywood and spend the rest of her days with her new BFF T？
WillN make nice withB ？ Will he go crawling back toS ？ Or has he finally given up on chasing
girls and decided to grow up？ And have we heard the last from his little summer fling？ Methinks
not。 After all； he still has lots of work to do on his lax coach？s house。。。。
What about the Hamptons？ Will this vacation playland for the rich and famous be big enough
forB ；S ； andN ？ What about the rest of Manhattan？s elite？ The location might be changing； but
the stars are character actors？they never really change。
And seriously： what the hell is going on withV andD ？ Odds are three…to…one they re？hook up by
July Fourth。 Any gamblers out there？
I？m going to stay on the case and get some answers。 It is； after all； my summer job； and I？m the
hardest worker I know。 Someone？s got to do it。
You know you love me。
gossip girl
Once upon a time on the Upper East Side of New York City； two beautiful girls fell in love with
one perfect boy。。。。
？
Turn the page for a sneak peek of
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it had to be you
the gossip girl prequel
？
and find out how it all began。
by the #1 New York Times bestselling author
Cecily von Ziegesar
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Disclaimer： All the real names of places； people； and events have been altered or abbreviated to
protect the innocent。 Namely； me。
hey people！
Ever have that totally freakish feeling that someone is listening in on your conversations； spying
on you and your friends； following you to parties； and generally stalking you？ Well； they are。 Or
actually； I am。 The truth is； I？ve been here all along； because I？m one of you。
Feeling totally lost？ Don？t get out much？ Don？t know who ？we？ are？ Allow me to explain。
We？re an exclusive group of indescribably beautiful people who happen to live in those majestic；
green…awninged； white…glove…doorman buildings near Central Park。 We attend Manhattan？s most
elite single…sex private schools。 Our families own yachts and estates in various exotic locations
throughout the world。 We frequent all the best beaches and the most exclusive ski resorts。 We？re
seated immediately at the nicest restaurants in the chicest neighborhoods without a reservation。
We turn heads。 But don？t confuse us with Hollywood actors or models or rock stars？those people
you feel like you know because you hear so much about them； but who are actually pletely
boring pared to the parts they play or the songs they sing。 There？s nothing boring about me or
my friends； and the more I tell you about us； the more you？re going to want to know。 I？ve kept
quiet until now； but something has happened and I just can？t stay quiet about it。 。 。 。
We learned in our first eleventh…grade creative writing class this week that most great stories
begin in one of the following fashions： someone mysteriously disappears or a stranger es to
town。 The story I？m about to tell is of the ？someone mysteriously disappears？ variety。
To be specific；S is gone。
In order to unravel the mystery of why she？s left and where she？s gone； I？m going to have to
backtrack to last winter？the winter of our sopho…more year？when the La Mer skin cream hit the
fan and our pretty pink rose…scented bubble burst。 It all started with three inseparable； perfectly
innocent； ？bergorgeous fifteen…year…olds。 Well； they？re sixteen now； and let？s just say that two of
them are not that innocent。
If anyone is going to tell this tale it has to be me； because I was at the scene of every crime。 So
sit back while I unravel the past and reveal everyone？s secrets； because I know everything； and
what I don？t know I？ll invent； elaborately。
Admit it： you？re already falling for me。
Love you too 。 。 。
gossip girl
the best stories begin with one boy and two girls
？Truce！？ Serena van der Woodsen screamed as Nate Archibald body…checked her into a
three…foot…high drift of powdery white snow。 Cold and wet； it tunneled into her ears and down her
pants。 Nate dove on top of her； all five…foot eleven inches of his perfect； golden…brown…haired；
glittering…green…eyed； fifteen…year…old boyness。 Nate smelled like Downy and the Kiehl？s
sandalwood soap the maid stocked his bathroom with。 Serena just lay there； trying to breathe with
him on top of her。 ？My scalp is cold；？ she pleaded； getting a mouthful of Nate？s snow…dampened；
godlike curls as she spoke。
Nate sighed reluctantly； as if he could have spent all day outside in the frigid February meat
locker that was the back garden of his family？s Eighty…second…Street…just…off…Park…Avenue
Manhattan town house。 He rolled onto his back and wriggled like Serena？s long…dead golden
retriever； Guppy； when she used to let him loose on the green grass of the Great Lawn in Central
Park。 Then he stood up； awkwardly dusting off the seat of his neatly pressed Brooks Brothers
khakis。 It was Saturday； but he still wore the same clothes he wore every weekday as a sophomore
at the St。 Jude？s School for Boys over on East End Avenue。 It was the unofficial Prince of the
Upper East Side uniform； the same uniform he and his classmates had been wearing since they？d
started nursery school together at Park Avenue Presbyterian。
Nate held out his hand to help Serena to her feet。 She frowned cautiously up at him； worried that
he was only faking her out and was about to tackle her again。 ？I really am cold。？
He flapped his hand at her impatiently。 ？I know。 e on。？
She snorted； pretended to pick her nose and wipe it on the seat of her snow…soaked dark denim
Earl jeans； then grabbed his hand with her faux…snotty one。 ？Thanks； pal。？ She staggered to her
feet。 ？You？re a real chum。？
Nate led the way inside。 The backs of his pant legs were damp and she could see the outline of
his tighty…whiteys。 Really； how gay of him！ He held the glass…paned French doors open and stood
aside to let her pass。 Serena kicked off her baby blue Uggs and scuff