gossip girl 3 英文-第33部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


…　Great　…　Serena　said。　…　And；　Isabel；　why　not　call　the　realtor　for　parties？　Tell　him　I　want　

a　big　loft　in　the　center　with　a　good　view　of　fireworks。　Preferably　with　a　deck。　
While　passing　the　list　of　invitees　to　Kati；　a　name　at　the　top　of　the　list　drew　attention　to　

Serena：　Nathaniel　Archibald。　Where　the　hell　andava　Nate；　indeed；　〃she　is　asked。　He　had　to　go　

to　her　party。　The　new…year　would　not　be　the　same　without　him。　
Nate　was　busy　opening　the　package　of　memories　of　Jenny；　which　was　not　a　simple　task；　since　

it　was　wrapped　in　a　layer　of　five　centimeters　of　magazines　for　teenagers　and　Scotch　tape。　

The　package　had　arrived　yesterday　afternoon；　but　somehow；　between　being　snowboarding　down　

the　mountain　with　Cadillac　John　and　Ryan　and　smoking　hashish　in　the　bathtub　of　a　girl　at　a　

party　in　Bar　Harbor；　he　simply　had　forgotten　to　open。　
The　only　clean　underwear　that　remained　in　the　drawer　of　Nate　was　that　Jenny　had　bought　for　

him　at　Barneys；　he　now　was　sitting　on　the　floor　using　the　samba…song　of　sailfish；　ripping　

the　pages　of　a　magazine　covering　box　of　Nike　shoes；　exactly　of　how　Jenny　had　imagined。　
He　raised　the　lid　of　the　box　and　looked　inside；　laughing　even　while　it　was　the　finger　in　the　

tinder…haired　Jenny。　Mandar　a　wick　of　hair　almost　seemed　that　Blair　would　do　something；　but　

it　probably　fill　with　perfume　first；　then　put　a　box　of　Tiffany's　silver…coated　red　velvet　

and　with　a　monogram　of　the　initials　of　Nate　or　something。　Nate　got　the　program　of　The　

Break…nuts　and　leaves。　Instead　of　remembering　five　days　before；　when　he　led　Jenny　to　see　the　

ballet　and　they　sat　in　the　front　row　of　the　balcony　at　the　New　York　State　Theater　of　Lincoln　

Center　hold　hands　while　the　army　of　nutcracker　toy　soldiers　in　the　fighting　the　mice　against　

the　evil　under　the　huge　Christmas　tree；　he　thought　the　last　time　they　took　Blair　to　see　the　

same　ballet。　
Blair　had　colic。　So　in　the　meantime；　Nate　managed　an　Advil　and　a　Perrier　for　her　with　the　

bartender　and　then　they　took　to　smoking　cigarettes　behind　the　counter。　They　were　kissing　and　

it　went　the　whole　second　act　there；　smoking；　kissing　and　watching　people　passing　by　the　

source　and　the　empty　Lincoln　Center。　Blair　was　wearing　a　coat　of　camel　hair　with　the　collar　

of　mink　in　which　Nate　liked　to　pull　his　face；　breathing　the　aroma　of　the　bination　of　

animal　skin；　the　scent　of　cigarette　smoke　and　Blair。　
From　the　top　of　the　dresser　Shaker　board　room　of　Nate　in　Mount　Desert；　the　phone　rang。　The　

phone　had　nine　messages；　all　with　the　number　of　Jenny；　and　Nate　had　not　been　concerned　with　

the　answer　either。　But　this　time　the　number　it　flashes　on　the　screen　was　different。　
Nate　laughed。　He　was　always　happy　to　hear　Serena。　
It　is；　as　all　the　guys　on　the　planet。　
…　And　then？　What　's　up？　
…　Natie？　…　The　voice　sounded　calm　in　your　ears。　…　I　was　wondering　when　am　I　gonna　see　you　

again。　Or　will　you；　so　kind；　to　stay　in　Maine　until　graduation？　
Nate　is　bent　and　picked　up　the　package　of　blueberry　Pop…Tarts　box　of　memories　of　Jenny。　

Opened　with　the　teeth　and　took　one　of　the　Pop…Tarts；　devouring　it　before　throwing　the　bag　

back　to　the　box。　
…　I　think　I　will　stay　longer　here　…　he　wanted　to　avoid　dealing　with　Jennifer　until　the　last　

minute。　Or　forever；　if　possible。　
…　But　I　will　give　a　party…New　Year's　…　Serena　said　a　voice　in　a　bad　mood。　…　Kati　and　Isabel　

are　here　now；　helping　me　to　plan。　The　theme　will　be　great　and　we　have　the　best　DJ；　and　a　

huge　deck　so　that　everyone　can　see　the　fireworks。　You　are　a　Mané　is　not　ing；　and　I　

promise　I　will　regret　fully。　
Nate　laughed。　The　party　seemed　legal。　Then　he　thought　of　something。　
…　Hey；　Where　to　Blair？　You　were　not　in　St。　Barts？　
…　Back　sooner　…　Serena　sighed。　…　Blair　on　this　side　and　a　nerd　working　on　the　proposal　to　

Yale。　
…　Ah　…　Nate　got　the　copy　of　Romeo　and　Juliet　and　spent　the　thumb　at　the　edge　of　the　pages　

full　of　ears。　Then　he　looked　for　cover；　a　classic　image　of　a　boy　and　a　girl　intertwined　in　a　

hug。　…　But　it　will　at　the　party；　right？　
…　Of　course；　silly　…　Serena　exclaimed。　…　It　is　not　as　well　nerd。　
…　OK　…　Nate　agreed；　still　holding　the　book。　…　I　will。　
Serena　hung　up。　Facing　her；　sitting　on　the　couch　of　red　and　white　chintz；　Kati　and　Isabel　

were　busy　to　phone；　scheduling　the　buffet　and　beverage　ordering　more　than　ever　need。　Serena　

smiled　to　herself。　It　was　half　as　interesting　Nate　said　only　that　the　party　was　going　after　

it　said　that　Blair　would　be　there。　He　had　a　feeling　that　would　be　a　very　interesting　

new…year。　

the　tormented　artists　suddenly　have　their　moment　

Still　using　the　same　coffee…stained　white　shirt　to　wear　for　almost　a　week；　Dan　had　almost　

filled　an　entire　block　with　morbid　poems　about　love　poetry　was　a　hoax　invented　by　Hallmark　

to　sell　cards　of　Valentine's　Day　and　give　people　the　false　impression　that　their　life　had　

meaning。　Now　he　was　working　on　a　poem　entitled　〃Car　Full　of　Stones；〃　about　a　guy　who　fills　

your　car　from　stones　and　leads　to　a　river　because　the　car　reminds　of　the　ex…girlfriend　who　

liked　to　go　out　there　and　listen　to　the　static　car　instead　of　music。　
Jenny　knocked　on　the　door。　
…　Have　a　letter　for　you；　Mr。　total　recluse。　
Dan　dropped　the　pen　and　opened　the　door。　Jenny　was　wearing　a　robe　pink　and　had　a　mustache　of　

white　cream。　She　spent　an　envelope。　
…　What　is　it　in　your　face？　…　Asked　him；　getting　the　letter。　
…　I　depilando　…　she　said；　turning　up　and　following　the　corridor　to　the　bathroom。　
Do　not　know　what　that　means；　Dan　thought；　closing　the　door。　Jenny　was　spending　too　much　time　

stuck　at　home　reading　of　fashion　magazines；　but　bined　well　with　her　for　being　a　bitch。　
Dan　turned　the　thin　white　envelope　and　examined　the　address　of　the　sender。　It　was　the　New　

Yorker；　probably　offering　a　signature；　when　his　father　was　a　lifetime　subscriber。　He　opened　

and　deployed　a　sheet　of　paper　that　was　inside。　

Dear　Mr。　Humphrey；　
Thank　you　for　sending　your　poem；　〃Whores〃；　to　The　New　Yorker。　Our　congratulations！　I　am　

happy　to　inform　you　that　post　your　poem　in　our　edition　of　the　Valentine's　Day。　Fill；　if　your　

interest；　the　Author's　information　sheet　attached　to　this　so　we　can　include　aglumas　

information　about　you　on　our　colleagues。　A　check　for　　800　will　be　sent。　
Happy　New…Year！　

Jani　Price　
Publisher

That　was　a　joke；　〃said　Dan　He　releu　up　the　letter　twice　before　letting　it　fall　into　the　bed；　

the　whole　body　trembling　with　fear。　The　New　Yorker　rarely　published　poems　by　unknown　

authors；　and　Jani　Price　was　famous　for　sending　letters　of　rejection　unpleasant；　such　as。　

〃Good　try！〃　Or　〃Sorry；　Charlie。〃　Dan　reviewed　the　letter。　It　looked　authentic。　Then　read　the　

letter　again；　his　hands　still　shaking　madly　with　the　idea　that　a　stranger　…　and　even　more　so　

famous　in　the　literary　world　as　Jani　Price　…　had　read　his　poem。　
The　more　I　thought　about　it；　became　more　evident　that　the　only　person　who　could　have　sent　

the　poem　to　the　magazine　was　Vanessa。　As　if　it　had　not　already　caused　enough　damage。　What　

the　hell　…　not；　what　the　fuck　she　was　thinking？　
Dan　threw　the　letter　on　the　bed　and　took　a　dirty　shirt。　First　would　take　a　hot　bath　and　wear　

clothes　files。　
At　last！　
Then　went　straight　to　Brooklyn　to　make　a　hole　in　Vanessa。　As　she　dared　violate　his　work　

sending　it　to　someone　without　having　to　work　to　ask　him　first？　Who　thought　that　was　it；　

anyway？　Her　fairy　godmother　croppy　and　boots　to　fight？　
How　about　the　Bad　Good　Witch　of　the　East？　
Ruby　finally　had　recovered　a　Sony　digital　camera　and　Vanessa　was　sitting　on　the　puter；　

downloading　images　of　pendants　of　ice　and　placing　them　in　his　new　movie；　shortly　before　the　

passage　of　pigeons　empoleirados　on　a　garbage　truck。　She　had　already　deleted　from　the　film　

Nate　and　Jenny　in　the　snow　and　decided　to　leave　everything　behind　and　focus　on　new　movie。　

Besides　the　pigeons　empoleirados　in　the　trash；　a　bald…head　doll　and　went　caolha　a　torn　bag　

of　garbage。　It　was　sensational。　
A　box　of　instant　message　appeared　on　the　upper　right　corner　of　the　monitor　and　Vanessa　

clicked　it；　hoping　it　was　Dan　By　then　he　should　already　know　the　New　Yorker　and　maybe　I　was