小说下载尽在http://bbs.txtnovel.com---书香门第【书香奶糖】整理
附：【本作品来自互联网,本人不做任何负责】内容版权归作者所有！
BeforeVanessa filmed her first movie,
Dan wrote his first poem,
andJenny bought her first bra.
?
BeforeBlair watched her first Audrey Hepburn movie,
Serenaleft for boarding school,
and beforeNate came between them. . . .
?
it had to be you
the gossip girl prequel
==================================
ABC Amber LIT Converter v2.02
==================================
Disclaimer: All the real names of places, people, and events have been altered or abbreviated to
protect the innocent. Namely, me.
hey people!
It?s been summer for about five minutes and already the city sidewalks are a hundred degrees.
Thank God we can finally ditchour tired, hideous blue-and-white seersucker school
uniforms?forgood . Unless we decide to resurrect them for our first collegeHalloween party.
Pleated kilts drive boys wild!
It was hard work surviving four years of high school, balancingpartying, shopping, studying,
partying, and shopping with just theright amount of grace and poise to land us in the Ivy League.
Wedid it, though, and we?ve got the diplomas?and the graduationpresents (vroom, vroom,
vroom!)?to prove it.
In case you?ve had your head under a rock all year long, we?re the kids who play as hard as we
shop, and now that we?ve amassed our new summer wardrobes, it?s time to get down to some
serious play. You know us, and it?s okay to admit it: you wish you were one of us. We?re the girls
strolling around Manhattan in crisp Marni sundresses and who-cares-if-we-ruin-them Jimmy Choo
flip-flops. We?re the tanned-since-spring-break-in-St.-Barts boys on the rooftop of the Met
slugging Tanqueray and tonic from antique silver flasks. Summer?s here, and those tedious
worries like APs and SATs are over. The next couple of months are all about the good stuff: love,
sex, fame, andinfamy . Speaking of which . . .
the most famous girl in town is about to become even more famous
She?s a local legend already, but could she be headed for a whole new level of notoriety?
Like,Vanity Fair covers and red-carpet premieres? It sure looks that way now that S has managed
to land the only summer job worthgetting : a starring role in a major Hollywood movie headed up
by potentially insane rogue director Ken Mogul, playing opposite that gorgeous, golden-stubbled
megastarT.Swoon . Judging from her history,T will soon be her leading man offscreen, too. Some
girls really do have all the luck.
Even though everyone thoughtB wasdestined for the part, she appears to have gotten over losing
out to her best friend . . . again. Maybe she?s getting used to it, or maybe she?s too busy cavorting
with her delicious-looking new boyfriend between the perfectly pressed 600-thread-count
cream-colored Egyptian cotton Claridge?s of London hotel sheets to care. That?s right: her
whirlwind affair with that strapping English gentleman LordM has changed settings from steamy
New York to swanky London, and I can only imagine they?re putting B?s hotel suite to good use.
Of course, LordM ?s manor is purported to be even nicer than Claridge?s, if that?s possible?so
why isn?t she staying with him there? We?ll find out soon enough: word of her escapades is
already making its way back across the pond.
Scandalous information about our favorite perpetually stoned but still perpetually cuteN is also
making its way back to the city? although he?s only a jitney ride away, in the summer-lovin?
Hamptons. He?s doing hard time on Long Island after that pesky
stealing-Viagra-from-his-lacrosse-coach-and-almost-not-graduating episode. I hear he?s already
tan and persistently sweaty from all the reroofing he?s doing at his coach?s house. Some of the
local ladies have been doing drive-bys just to get a peek at him with his shirt off. Meanwhile,
onthis side of Long Island?that?s Brooklyn, FYI?Vwas seen enjoying the spoils of her short
live-in withB . Hello, black silk DVF wrap dress! OnlyB would leavethat behind like a used
toothbrush. No one knows ifV was having a fling with both sides of that stepsibling duo or not,
but bothA andB have moved on. Literally. Last I heard, A had taken up with a tattooed belly
dancer in Austin, Texas, with two boxer puppies of her own. Thank goodness forD ?he?s been
seen all over town frantically checking out the city like a tourist. Looks like someone?s getting
sentimental about his big move out west this fall.
Your e-mail
Q:
Dear GG,
So there I was, in Heathrow Airport on my way to this totally fruity British boarding school my
parents are making me start this summer, when whom should I see but B, aka the girl of my
dreams. I thought my problems were solved, until I arrived on campus and heard threevery
disturbing rumors:
1) B is not only dating some English douche bag, she?sengaged to him.
2)He? s already engaged to someone else.
And, craziest of all:
3) Lord Douchebaggio isn?t satisfying B?s womanly needs, if you catch my drift. Maybe he?s
too tired out from spending time with his fianc?e?
Help a brother out, here. I?m going to freak the F out if I don?t find a girl who knows that soccer
isnot called football.
?B Back on the Market?
P.S.I can go all night.
A:
Dear BB on the M,
I don? t know how they do it in England, but here in America seventeen isway too young to get
married. Hello, we haven?t even hooked up with our freshman year hall mates yet! Sit tight.
Nothing lasts forever. . . .
?GG
P.S. All night, huh? What did you say you look like?
Q:
Dear GG,
It took a lot of begging and pleading, but I finally convincedmy dad to shell out for a summer
rental in Southampton justfor me and my friends. Now we?re here and no one else is. What gives?
?No Sex on the Beach
A:
Dear NSOTB:
If you must know, getting to the Hamptons too early in the season is a little ... well, tacky, unless
youhave to be there, like some people I know. In the meantime, why not shake it up? You?ve got a
whole house at your disposal?fashion those palm-frond-patterned ABC Carpet & Home sheets into
togas and get into the college spirit!
?GG
Sightings
Baccusing a Virgin Atlantic bag handler of stealing one of hermany Cosabella lace thongs from
her Tumi duffel. That?s what you get for flying commercial!S reading?reading?Hello, school?s
out!?a tattered paperback copy ofBreakfast at Tiffany?s on a shady bench in Central Park. No
doubt she?ll reminisce about it someday onInside the Actors Studio . A sweatyN pumping up and
down and up and?there goes my imagination!?through East Hampton center on his old red
Schwinn tenspeed. What happened to the Range Rover?V at Bonita, that tiny, rustic Mexican
place in Williamsburg, asking someone to wipe down the table before she sat down. MaybeB
really did rub off on her.D cruising up and down West End Avenue for hours? where?s he
supposed topark that big blue Buick pimpmobile he scored as a graduation present, anyway?
That?s all for now. I?m out of here. After all, you don?t have to be an MIT-bound math geek to
realize there are only eleven weeks of summer?a mere seventy-seven days?before we have to
grapple with things like coed dorms and declaring a major in fashion design and maybe a torrid
extracurricular affair with that probably-pretty-cute-under-his-tweed-blazer-and-bow-tie English
lit professor. But let?s not get ahead of ourselves: it?s hot outside, and things are already getting
steamy. Life is full of mystery?not to mention cute girls in polka-dot bikinis and hot guys in
pastel-colored surf shorts. The summer, with its lack of rules and schedules, provides the perfect
setting for some severe misbehavior. Right now, I?m taking my new oversized pale pink Gucci
sunglasses, a copy of FrenchElle , some Guerlain SPF 45 sunblock, and a cozy
turquoise-and-tangerine-striped Missoni towel and hitting the park. Which part of the park?
Wouldn?t you like to know?
You know you love me.
gossip girl
the family that plays together stays together
?Bravo!? cried Lord Marcus. ?Darling, you?re simply a natural at this!?
Camilla chuckled, tucking her long blond mane behind her ears as her red croquet ball rolled
through the wicket and came to rest on a patch of perfectly manicured emerald green lawn in the
back garden of the Beaton-Rhodes manor. It was the third match they?d played that day, and
Camilla had won. Again.
?I learned from the master,? she giggled excitedly.
?When is it going to be my turn Blair whined. She?d been waiting for ages to get her chance to
swing the mallet. She was definitely in the mood to hit something.
Behind them the ivy-covered gray stone West London mansion rose up like a fortress. Blair
hadn?t been invited inside yet, nor had she met Marcus?s parents.
?Mother has one of her headaches,? he?d explained, causing Camilla to erupt into a fit of
honking laughter. Blair wondered if Lady Rhodes had a tendency to bring a bottle of sloe gin to
bed with her, but she didn?t ask, preferring to glare menacingly at Camilla instead. There was
something so ?I?min and you?reout ? about her, Blair just wanted to rip her head off like some
kind of ugly royal cousin Barbie that would still be on the shelves at FAO Schwarz long after
Christmas.
?I believe that ends our game,? Lord Marcus called apolo-getically. ?Shall we have another go
?Whatever,? muttered Blair, sipping her fourth Bombay Sapphire martini of the afternoon. The
sprawling ancient stone mansion was framed by hundreds of perfectly conical bushes. Even the
massive trees had been trimmed into unnatural shapes. Blair was beginning to feel like Alice at the
Queen of Hearts? palace in Wonderland. She lit a Silk Cut and puffed on it greedily. ?Can we get
some more refreshments she asked of no one in particular.
When in doubt, have another.
?I?m knackered,? sighed Camilla as she collapsed into the wrought-iron chair next to
Blair?s. ?Having fun she asked, putting her hand on Blair?s, which was curled up into an angry
little fist.
Weren?t she and Marcus supposed to be in love? Why wasn?t he undressing her in his elegant
Edwardian bedroom? Why did he want to pal around with his nag of a cousin? Why wasn?t heat
least playing footsie with her beneath the table?
She squinted at Marcus, looking for a sign, some hint of his true feelings. A wide grin spread
across his clean-shaven face and his green eyes sparkled with merriment. He seemed completely
oblivious. Just having the time of his life in the warm summer sun. Blair sighed. Maybe she was
being nasty and judgmental. She glanced at Camilla. Maybe she?d disappear soon, and she and
Marcus could have sex beneath a hare-shaped conifer.
?The time of my life,? Blair snapped.
?I daresay I?mstarved ,? Lord Marcus exclaimed, rolling up the sleeves on his white linen
button-down before taking a seat at the glass-topped table. He reached for a tiny silver platter that
was laden with delicate cucumber sandwiches and popped a triangle in his mouth.
?You?re always hungry when I?m around,? Camilla giggled. She poked him in the belly and
sipped her martini delicately.
?Remember that time I came to visit you at Yale and we went to that gorgeous little town in
Vermont for a weekend ski Camilla turned to Blair. ?We were on the slopes all day and all I
wanted was a nice soak in the tub. When I got out, Marcus had ordered
everything?everything!?off the room service menu so we could eat by the fire.?
Blair was overcome with the urge to grab her mallet and smack Camilla over the head. She
looked at Marcus, who was blushing. Maybe he and Camilla were the kind of cousins who liked to
play doctor. Even after they were too old to play. Didn?t Horseface realizeshe was Marcus?s
girlfriend?
?Oh, Cam, I?m sure Blair doesn?t want to hear about our ski weekend.? Marcus stood up,
waving the empty sandwich plate at the butler.
Blair stood up, too. ?Anyone up for another game, set? whatever it?s fucking called? Maybe I
can take a turn this time.?
?Oh, I think I?m all worn out. I ought to have warned you,? Marcus apologized. ?Camilla is an
absolute whiz at games.?
Well, fine then. ?Speaking of whiz,? Blair muttered under her breath. ?I need the loo.? She?d
picked up quite a few Britishisms in the last couple of days.
?Oh my.?Camilla blushed.?There?s that Yank wit.?
And there?s that Brit bitchiness.
?Just inside,? Lord Marcus instructed. ?Through the library and on your left.?
?I?ll find it,? huffed Blair, stumbling a little as she started toward the house. The gin had gone
straight to her head. ?Don?t get up.?
She clopped along the flagstone path, smoothing the wrinkles in the white Thomas Pink
shirtdress she?d changed into especially for their afternoon of lawn games. The house was
surprisingly cluttered and smelled of rotting flowers. Of course the furniture was beautiful and the
rugs especially so?apparently Lady Rhodes sent a buyer to Marrakech every other year to add to
her collection. But a stained-glass window in the library made the house feel oddly churchlike,
and Blair felt strange wandering around alone, knowing Lady Rhodes was upstairs somewhere
nursing a hangover.
Alone in the powder room, she lit another Silk Cut, her new favorite English cigarette, and
studied her reflection in the gilt-framed mirror as she exhaled. She narrowed her eyes and tucked
in her chin, practicing the sexy look she?d fix on her boyfriend. One more drink and she?d suggest
heading back to Claridge?s for a late-afternoon romp. Lawn games were all well and good, but she
was in the mood for somereal exercise. She smoked the entire cigarette and pocketed a piece of
the Beaton-Rhodes French-milled shell-shaped soap just because.
Old habits never die.
Outside, a new batch of martinis had been mixed, and Lord Marcus offered a fresh glass to Blair
as she took her seat.
?She?ll want an ashtray,? Camilla quipped, nervously eyeing the inch of ash at the tip of Blair?s
cigarette.
?I?ll use the lawn, thanks,? Blair replied flatly, taking a swig from her paper-thin Riedel glass,
