gossip girl 12 终结- 第49部分

“I　don’t　think　there’s　anything　there。　I　haven’t　eaten　yet；　either。　Want　a　pizza？”　Dan　asked。

“Sure。”　Vanessa　shrugged。

Dan　moved　over　to　the　counter　and　ordered　a　large　double　cheese；　onion；　and　pepper。　He　turned　to　Vanessa　after　he　hung　up。　“Serena　had　plans　with　Blair；　so　I　saw　your　ex’s　movie　tonight。　The　one　about　the　Maoris　in　Iceland？”

“And？”　Vanessa　asked　curiously。　She　still　hadn’t　seen　it；　though　the　movie　posters　were　on　subway　cars　and　bus　shelters　everywhere。　She　really　didn’t　know　if　she　wanted　Dan　to　love　or　hate　the　film。

“You　could　have　done　it　better；”　Dan　added。　“I　can’t　wait　to　see　what　you　make　in　Indonesia。”

Vanessa　smiled；　her　heart　melting　a　little　bit。　That　was　exactly　what　she　wanted　to　hear。

Dan　grinned。　“Did　you　ever　think　this　is　who　you’d　bee？”　he　asked；　settling　onto　the　counter。

“What　do　you　mean？”

“I　mean—going　to　Indonesia。　Being　a　real　filmmaker。　Like；　back　when　you　were　eighteen；　wouldn’t　you　be　so　excited　if　you　knew　this　was　who　you’d　be　four　years　later？”　Dan　asked；　stirring　his　Folgers　coffee　crystals　into　his　favorite　chipped　white　mug。

“Yes；　I’d　be　excited。　But　I　always　thought…”　She　trailed　off。　She’d　meant　to　say　that　back　then；　whenever　she　imagined　her　future　life；　she　imagined　herself　and　Dan　together。　“I　don’t　know。”　She　shrugged；　not　finishing　the　sentence。　“What　about　you？”

Dan　closed　his　eyes。　He’d　thought　he’d　be　more　in　control　of　his　life；　be　more　sure　of　what　he　was　doing。　Of　course；　everything　seemed　perfect。　Outside　of　his　two　poems　in　The　New　Yorker；　he’d　been　published　in　some　of　the　most　prestigious　literary　journals　in　the　country。　He　was　dating　a　movie　star。　He　was　heading　to　the　best　grad　program　for　writing　in　the　world。　But　somehow；　something　seemed…　inplete。　“Yeah；　things　worked　out。”　Dan　shrugged。

“You　and　Serena　seem　good　together；”　Vanessa　offered　after　a　pause。　She’d　never　really　talked　about　Dan’s　relationship　with　Serena　before。

“Yeah；　she’s　great；”　Dan　said　distantly。　Serena　was　great。　But　no　matter　what；　they　didn’t　have　as　strong　a　connection　as　he　described　in　the　poems　he　wrote　about　their　relationship。　It　wasn’t　the　marriage　of　two　minds；　not　really。　It　was　more　like　falling　in　love　with　an　illusion　of　perfection。

Sounds　like　we’ve　got　the　beginnings　of　another　poem。

Just　then；　the　buzzer　rang。

“Saved　by　the　bell。”　Vanessa　grinned　as　she　stood　up　and　pulled　a　twenty　from　the　back　pocket　of　her　tight　black　jeans。　After　paying　the　delivery　boy；　she　set　the　steaming　box　of　pizza　on　the　coffee　table　in　the　living　room。

She　grabbed　a　slice　of　pizza　and　sat　cross…legged　on　the　scuffed　hardwood　floor。　This　was　what　she　was　going　to　miss：　the　Humphreys’　fortably　ramshackle　apartment；　Marx；　Norma；　and　the　overarching　feeling　of　pride　that　somehow；　despite　all　odds；　she’d　transformed　from　the　scrappy；　friendless　daughter　of　hippie　parents　from　Vermont　into　an　inspiring　young　filmmaker　who　mattered。

Dan　grabbed　a　slice　and　sat　down　next　to　her。　A　glob　of　sauce　landed　on　the　front　of　his　brown　sweater。

Vanessa　cracked　a　grin。　“I’d　have　thought　you’d　have　better　manners　four　years　later；　that’s　for　sure；”　she　said　as　he　dabbed　the　sauce　away　with　a　paper　napkin。

“That’s　for　sure；”　Dan　said　sheepishly　as　he　leaned　against　the　couch　and　took　a　large　bite　of　pizza。　Vanessa　smiled　fondly　at　him。　It　was　cute　the　way　he’d　spilled　all　over　himself。　It　was　nice　to　know　that　some　things　would　always　stay　the　same。

Another　small　glob　of　sauce　dripped　from　Dan’s　chin；　threatening　to　spill　onto　his　sweater。　“You’re　a　mess。”　She　shook　her　head　bemusedly　as　she　leaned　in　to　catch　it。　But　Dan　leaned　in　too；　and　suddenly；　their　lips　were　connecting。　Dan　tasted　like　pizza　and　coffee　and　something　else—a　Dan…ness　she’d　forgotten　she　missed。

Dan　leaned　closer　to　Vanessa；　running　his　fingers　through　her　thick；　shoulder…length　hair　and　tracing　the　back　of　her　neck　with　his　hand。

As　if　they　were　following　the　steps　to　a　dance　only　they　knew；　they　stood　without　breaking　their　kiss。　Vanessa　took　Dan’s　hand；　and　led　him　to　her　bedroom。

So　this　is　what　their　younger　selves　imagined。



hey　people！

bad　behavior

Just　when　I　think　we’re　all　too　old　for　the　over…the…top　antics　of　our　youth；　several　of　our　favorite　people　have　proven　they　still　know　how　to　bend　the　rules：　B　and　S　were　spotted　sneaking　into　a　certain　Eighty…second　Street　town　house。　J　was　spotted　rediscovering　her　rock　star　self　and　dancing　all　night　at　Filter。　That’s　just　as　well；　since　N　was　in　bed　with　B…　and　S。　And　D　didn’t　seem　to　miss　S　because　he　was　awfully　busy　with…　dinner。

So　what’s　up　with　the　recent　spate　of　bad　behavior？　It　could　be　a　result　of　senior　year　stress。　It　could　be　a　flirtation　with　the　past。　Or　it　could　be　us　ing　to　terms　with　the　yin　and　the　yang；　the　bad　and　the　good　existing　in　all　of　us。　The　realization　that　even　though　we　might　be　older；　we　might　wear　better　clothes；　we　might　be　able　to　spout　off　Proust　and　Plato　with　aplomb；　we’re　still　just　figuring　out　our　place　in　the　world；　one　mistake　at　a　time。　We’re　old　enough　to　stop　pretending　to　be　perfect；　to　stop　pretending　the　past　never　happened；　to　realize　that　drama　keeps　life　interesting。　And；　that　said…

hangover　help

I　don’t　know　about　you；　but　now　that　I’m　legally　allowed　to　drink；　my　hangovers　have　been　ten　times　worse。　Talk　about　youth　being　wasted　on　the　young。　If　this　season　you　find　yourself　with　a　pounding　headache　the　likes　of　which　you　haven’t　felt　since　freshman　year；　I　can　sympathize。　My　advice？　Go　back　to　sleep　and　have　your　significant　other　brave　the　cold　for　bagels。　Indulge　in　a　carb　and　snuggle…fest　in　bed；　and　stay　there　until　the　sun　dips　low　into　the　sky。　After　all；　it’s　vacation　and　you　deserve　the　break。

your　e…mail

q：　Dear　Gossip　Girl；

My　best　friend　has　a　boyfriend　but　loves　to　go　out　and　dance。　And　boys—especially　one　boy　in　particular—loves　to　dance　with　her。　Should　I　stage　an　intervention　or　something　or　just　realize　she　can　make　her　own　decisions？

—caligirl

a：　Dear　Cali；

Last　I　heard；　dancing　isn’t　cheating。　I　say；　just　dance—but　be　ready　to　cut　in　if　things　look　like　they’re　getting　a　little　too　down　and　dirty。

—GG

q：　Dear　Gossip　Girl；

So；　where’s　the　New　Year’s　party？

—partylikearockstar

a：　Dear　Party；

Ordinarily；　a　query　like　this　would　force　me　to　break　the　sad　news　that　you　just　may　not　have　been　invited　to　the　fete　of　the　season；　but　this　year；　it　seems　our　favorite　reformed　bad　boy　has　yet　to　send　out　invites。　Shall　we　add　sloth　to　our　list　of　sins　as　well？

—GG

sightings

N　ordering　a　dozen　bagels　at　daybreak　at　Pick…a…Bagel。　Impromptu　brunch　plans？…　B　and　S　stumbling　down　Fifth　Avenue；　also　at　daybreak；　heading　toward　S’s　house。　Haven’t　seen　that　in　a　while！　J　and　her　friend　E　ordering　eggs　at　Three　Guys　at　6　a。m。；　looking　sweaty　and　disheveled　in　that　I’ve　been　dancing　my　ass　off　all　night　way。　Good　for　them！　V　making　a　coffee　run　to　the　deli　on　the　corner；　looking　blissful　for　early　in　the　morning。　Why　so　happy？

one　more　theory

Maybe　all　of　our　bad　behavior　is　just　gearing　up　for　the　final　countdown：　I’m　talking　New　Year’s　Eve　in　just　a　few　days。　Will　our　favorite　party　pad　be　up　and　running　this　year；　or　will　we　need　to　find　an　alternate　venue？　Will　we　kiss　the　same　people；　different　people；　or　ring　in　the　new　year　with　only　our　cat　for　pany？　And　what　will　this　year　bring？　I’ll　be　the　first　to　know　and　you’ll　be　the　first　to　find　out。

You　know　you　love　me；

gossip　girl

out　with　the　old；　in　with　the　new？

“A　large　latte；　please；”　Serena　said　to　the　surly…looking　server　behind　the　counter　of　the　Hungarian　Pastry　Shop　on　112th　and　Amsterdam。　Her　head　was　pounding　and　her　mouth　felt　dry。　Last　night；　after　drinking　a　few　of　her　extra…strong　vodka　gimlets；　she　and　Nate　and　Blair　had　fallen　asleep　in　a　tangled　pile　midway　through　Breakfast　at　Tiffany’s　and　had　woken　up　to　a　river　of　melted　ice　cream　in　the　bed　with　them。

People　have　woken　up　to　worse…。

Despite　the　shaky　start；　Serena　had　actually　managed　to　have　a　productive　morning。　She’d　called　the　real　estate　agent　for　the　Frank　Lloyd　Wright　house　and　had　already　made　all　the　arrangements　for　an　August　move…in。　She　couldn’t　wait。　And　she　really　couldn’t　wait　to　tell　Dan。　That　was　why　she’d　chosen　the　pastry　shop　to　meet。　Serena　hated　it；　but　it　was　Dan’s　favorite　place。

“Thanks；”　Serena　said　to　the　barista　as　she　grabbed　her　latte。　The　barista　snorted　in　response。　Serena　sat　down　at　one　of　the　tables　in　the　corner；　which　had　only　three　legs　and　shook　whenever　she　placed　her　cup　on　its　surface。

The　bell　above　the　door　dinged　as　a　new　customer　entered。　Dan。　He　was　red…faced　from　the　wind　and　holding　his　place　in　The　Tropic　of　Cancer　with　his　index　finger。

“Hey；”　he　said；　sinking　down　into　the　seat　across　from　her。

“Hi。”　Serena　smiled　at　her　rumpled；　absentminded　poet　boyfriend。　She　pulled　out　the　photos　she’d　printed　of　the　house　and　spread　them　across　the　table；　silently　beaming　in　satisfaction。

“Wow。”　Dan　picked　up　the　papers　to　look　more　closely。　The　house　looked　familiar；　like　someplace　he’d　studied　in　school　or　seen　in　a　coffee…table　book　about　architecture。

“It’s　a　Frank　Lloyd　Wright　house；　one　of　his　early；　Prairie…style　ones。　It’s　one　of　the　first　ones　he　created；”　Serena　said　proudly；　as　if　she’d　built　the　house　herself。　“And　it’s　ours。　Just　outside　Iowa　City！”

Dan　looked　around　so　he　wouldn’t　have　to　gaze　into　Serena’s　eyes。　The　coffee　shop　was　almost　empty；　except　for　two　couples　cozily　leaning　over　their　lattes。　The　events　of　last　night　came　rushing　back　to　him　in　a　flash　of　jet…black　hair　strewn　over　his　bare　chest。　Vanessa。

He　bed　his　hand　through　his　messy　hair。　“Um；　I’ve　been　thinking…”

“Do　you　like　it？”　Serena　asked；　biting　her　bottom　lip。

Large　concrete…pool　empty　eyes。

Dive　in…。

Dan　realized　just　then　that　he’d　never　imagined　Serena　joining　him　in　Iowa。　He’d　imagined　himself；　alone；　scribbling　poems。　Driving　past　endless　cornfields。　Mingling　with　other　students　at　poetry　readings　while　drinking　warm　white　wine　in　paper　cups。　In　al