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just stop being friends。
Serena stood up and examined her eyebrows in the bathroom
mirror； using Blair’s tweezers to pluck a few stray hairs。 She pulled
a tube of Urban Decay Gash lip gloss from her pocket and smeared
another layer on her lips。 Then she picked up Blair’s hairbrush and
began brushing her hair。 Finally； she peed and rejoined the dinner
party； forgetting her lip gloss on Blair’s sink。
When Serena sat down； Blair was eating her second helping of
pudding； and Nate was drawing a small…scale picture of his kick…ass
sailboat for Cyrus on the back of a matchbook。 Across the table
Chuck raised his wine glass to clink it with Serena’s。 She had no
idea what she was toasting； but she was always up for anything。
Disclaimer： All the real names of places； people； and events havebeen altered or abbreviated to protect the innocent。 Namely； me。
hey people！
S SEEN DEALING 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 e？ ：…）—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 metropolitan
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。—GG
3 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； ing out of an STD clinic on the Lower East
Side。 She was wearing a thick black wig 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；
“Wele back； girls；” Mrs。 McLean said； standing behind the
podium at the front of the school auditorium。 “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 faculty and staff
members tittered discreetly。 Everyone knew Mrs。 McLean had a
girlfriend up in Vermont。 Her name was Vonda； and she drove a
tractor。 Mrs。 McLean had a tattoo on her inner thigh 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 forth 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 acting like a loser—
persistently calling in sick or doing poorly on the SATs—she would
call in the shrinks； counselors； and tutors and make sure the girl got
the personal attention she needed to get good grades； high scores；
and a warm wele to the college of her choice。
Mrs。 M also didn’t tolerate meanness。 Constance was supposed to
be a school free of cliques and prejudice of any sort。 Her favorite
saying was； “When you assume； you make an ass out of u and me。”
The slightest slander of one girl by another was punished with a day
in isolation 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 ing 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 celebrity。
“She’s probably too drugged up to e 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 pletely addicted 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 cult up in New Hampshire。”
Kati giggled。 “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 hymn。 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 herald angels si…ing！ Glo…ry to the newborn king！ Peaceon Earth and mercy mi…ild； God and sin…ners reconciled。”
Constance ninth grader Jenny Humphrey silently mouthed the
words； sharing with her neighbor the hymnal which Jenny herself
had been missioned to pen in her exceptional calligraphy。 It had
taken all summer； and the hymnals were beautiful。 In three years
the Pratt Institute of Art and Design would be knocking her door
down。 Still； Jenny felt sick with embarrassment every time they
used the hymnals； which was why she couldn’t sing out loud。 To
sing aloud seemed like an act of bravado； as if she were saying；
“Look at me； I’m singing along to the hymnals I made！ Aren’t I
cool？”
Jenny preferred to be invisible。 She was a curly…haired； tiny little
freshman； so invisible wasn’t a hard thing to be。 Actually； it would
have been easier if her boobs weren’t so incredibly huge。 At
fourteen； she was a 34D。
Can you imagine？
“Hark the heavenly host proclaims； Christ i…is born in Beth…le…hem！”
Jenny was standing at the end of a row of folding chairs； next to the
big auditorium windows overlooking Ninety…third Street。 Suddenly a
movement out on the street caught her eye。 Blond hair flying。
Burberry plaid coat。 Scuffed brown suede boots。 New maroon
uniform—odd choice； but she made it work。 It looked like 。 。 。 it
couldn’t be 。 。 。 could it possibly 。 。 。 No！ 。 。 。 Was it？
Yes； it was。
A moment later Serena van der Woodsen pushed open the heavy
wooden door of the auditorium and stood in front of it； looking for
her class。 She was out of breath and her hair was windblown。 Her
cheeks were rosy and her eyes were bright from running the twelve
blocks up Fifth Avenue to school。 She looked even more perfect than
Jenny had remembered。
“Oh。 My。 God；” Rain whispered to Kati in the back