gossip girl 9 英文-第32部分

快捷操作: 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! 如果本书没有阅读完，想下次继续接着阅读，可使用上方 "收藏到我的浏览器" 功能 和 "加入书签" 功能！

duty？to　make　this　asshole　read。　He　stood　up。　？Follow　me。？　

He　led　the　mindless　goth　kid　into　a　small　back　room　full　of　leather…bound　classics　and　found　a　
beautiful　Everyman？s　Library　copy　of　Joyce？s　masterpiece。　Dan　began　to　read　aloud　from　a　
random　page：　？Touch　me。　Soft　eyes。　Soft　soft　soft　hand。　I　am　lonely　here。　O；　touch　me　soon；　now。　
What　is　that　word　known　to　all　men？　I　am　quiet　here　alone。　Sad　too。　Touch；　touch　me。？　Dan　
paused　and　looked　up。　？e　on；　you　know　you　want　to；？　he　urged。　

The　kid　looked　terrified；　probably　suspecting　Dan　was　some　sort　of　Strand…lurking　literary　
pervert。　He　dropped　his　Batman　lunch　box　and　bolted。　

Dan　sat　down　on　the　floor　to　finish　the　page。　He　had　to　admit　that　James　Joyce　did　always　sort　of　
turn　him　on。　


Yes；　it？s　going　to　be　an　interesting　summer　indeed。　

helmets　are　almost　as　important　as　condoms　

Nate　stood　up　on　the　pedals　of　his　vintage　Schwinn；　pushing　them　up　and　down　with　his　feet；　and　
then　eased　himself　back　onto　the　unfortable；　unpadded　leather　seat。　He　liked　to　bike　this　
way？pedaling　as　hard　as　he　could　and　then　sitting　down　to　feel　the　warm　summer　breeze　on　his　
face。　To　the　right；　the　waves　rippled　off　the　beach。　On　his　left　was　a　vine…yard　full　of　Chardonnay　
grapes。　The　air　smelled　like　salt　and　gas…grilled　steak。　He　listened　to　the　satisfying　crunch　of　the　
gravelly　road　under　his　wheels　and　grinned　lazily。　

His　morning　joint　had　done　just　the　trick；　and　by　the　end　of　the　day；　he？d　been　kind　of　grooving　
on　what　was　supposed　to　be　his　summer　punishment。　There　was　something　soothing　about　
physical　labor。　He？d　spent　the　summer　after　tenth　grade　helping　his　dad　build　their　sailboat；　
theCharlotte　；　up　at　his　family？s　pound　in　Mt。　Desert　Isle；　Maine；　and　the　after…noon　working　
on　Coach　Michaels？s　place　kind　of　reminded　him　of　that　summer；　although　the　setting？rows　of　
houses　and　overpopulated　beaches？wasn？t　quite　as　serene。　Still；　there　was　nothing　like　tough　
manual　work；　bright　sunshine；　and　the　reward　of　a　cold　Stella　Artois　when　the　day　was　done；　and　
no　distractions。　

There　were　no　classes　to　worry　about：　school　was　over　at　last；　and　Yale　seemed　impossibly　far　
away。　Blair；　the　girl　he　was　pretty　sure　was　the　love　of　his　life　but　who　he　could　never　seem　to　get　
it　together　for；　was　in　England　with　her　new　aristocrat　boyfriend；　probably　shopping；　eating　scones；　
and　drinking　way　too　much　tea。　Serena　was　back　in　the　city　being　a　movie　star；　and　Jenny；　the　
incredibly　well…endowed　freshman　he？d　somehow　gotten　involved　with　last　winter；　had　been　
shipped　off　to　Europe。　He　was　better　off　far　away　from　those　three。　

He　grinned；　realizing　that　this　was　how　the　whole　summer　would　go：　days　of　hard　labor；　bike　
rides　back　home；　then　a　shower；　a　joint；　and　maybe　some　time　by　himself　was　just　what　he　needed。　
Coach？s　house　was　in　Hampton　Bays；　several　miles　from　his　own　house　in　East　Hampton；　but　it　
was　like　a　different　world；　with　its　suburban　houses　and　minivans　and　malls。　It　was　just　the　kind　of　
place　that　would　help　him　refocus　this　summer；　which　was　his　plan。　He　didn？t　have　his　eye　on　any　
particular　girl；　and　anyway；　they　tended　to　lead　him　into　nothing　but　trouble。　Maybe　he　was　better　
off　as　a　solo　act。　

As　if　he　were　ever　alone　for　more　than　thirty　seconds。　

Nate　had　to　climb　off　and　push　the　squeaky　bike　up　a　particularly　bad　hill；　wheezing　from　the　
effort。　Sucking　down　three　joints　a　day　will　do　that　to　you。　

Out　of　breath　and　sweating；　he　climbed　back　on　the　bike　at　the　hill？s　summit　and　drifted　down；　


letting　gravity　do　the　work。　He　looked　down　and　poked　at　his　forearm　to　see　if　the　pink　skin　
turned　white　when　he　touched　it。　It　was　something　Blair　used　to　do　to　him　when　they　went　to　the　
beach　together。　After　declaring　him　burned；　she？d　gently　slather　him　with　her　fancy　sunscreen。　He　
pushed　at　his　forearm　again。　Definitely　a　little　cooked。　

That？s　what　you　get　for　skipping　the　Coppertone！　

Then　he　looked　up　and　realized　he　was　speeding　straight　for　the　road？s　shoulder。　He　pulled　on　
the　handlebars；　swerving　across　the　road；　but　he　was　going　so　fast　that　he　wiped　out。　Hard。　

There　was　a　polite　round　of　applause；　like　at　a　golf　match。　Nate　looked　up；　realizing　he　was　
splayed　out　in　the　dirt　parking　lot　in　front　the　Oyster　Shack；　a　gray　clapboard　seafood　joint　about　
halfway　between　Coach？s　house　and　his　family？s　hundred…year…old　estate　near　Georgica　Pond　in　
East　Hampton。　A　group　of　high…school…age　kids　was　sitting　at　a　picnic　table；　strewn　with　sweating　
beer　bottles　and　baskets　of　fried　food；　and　they　were　all　staring　at　him。　

？Shit；？　Nate　muttered。　Tiny　pebbles　were　embedded　in　the　palms　of　his　hands；　and　he？d　torn　the　
faded　lime…green　Stussy　shirt　he？d　been　working　in　all　day。　He　brushed　the　dirt　from　his　hands　and　
looked　down　at　his　cutoff　khakis？no　damage　there。　

Leave　it　to　Nate　Archibald　to　look　even　better　covered　with　sweat；　blood；　and　grime。　

He　crouched　to　examine　the　bike？s　front　wheel。　It　was　bent。　

　？Tough　break。？　

Nate　looked　up。　The　voice　belonged　to　a　curvy；　blue…eyed　blonde　who　wore　her　curly　dark　blond　
hair　pulled　back　tight　and　tucked　under　a　red　bandana。　Her　pink　tube　top　was　riding　dangerously　
low　and　her　denim　miniskirt　promisingly　high。　A　lipstick…smeared　straw　poked　out　of　the　Coke　she　
gripped　in　her　left　hand。　She　extended　her　right　hand　to　Nate；　her　long；　perfectly　painted　nails　
exactly　the　same　shade　of　red　as　the　can。　

？Just　ignore　my　friends；？　she　told　him　apologetically。　

Her　skin　was　the　same　golden　beige　as　that　of　every　other　girl　who　used　the　same　shade　of　
Clinique　self…tanner；　but　beneath　the　beige　was　a　smattering　of　freckles　covering　her　nose；　cheeks；　
shoulders；　arms；　and　chest。　Nate　had　learned　from　Blair　that　girls　were　usually　more　plicated　
than　they　first　appeared；　and　this　girl？s　prominent　freckles　seemed　to　suggest　that　she　was　more　
than　just　a　typical　Long　Island　babe。　

Nate　grinned　as　he　took　her　hand　and　let　her　pull　him　to　his　feet。　？Yeah；　no　problem；？　he　
answered　sheepishly。　

？You？re　going　to　need　to　get　that　looked　at；？　Freckles　advised；　nodding　at　the　bike。　


？Yeah；？　muttered　Nate。　He　wasn？t　that　worried　about　the　bike。　The　only　thing　that　seemed　worth　
looking　at　was　right　in　front　of　him。　

？I？m　Tawny。　I　know　a　place　where　you　can　get　your　bike　taken　care　of。　But　maybe　I？ll　buy　you　
an　ice　cream　cone　first。？　

Tawny？　But　isn？t　that　the　color　of　her　self…tanner？！　

？Sure。？　He？d　smoked　the　roach　from　his　morning　joint　before　leaving　Coach？s　place？hence　the　
accident；　maybe？？　and　ice　cream　sounded　very　appetizing　indeed。　

？So　what？s　your　story；　Nate？　I？ve　never　seen　you　around；？　Tawny　asked　as　she　skipped　across　
the　street　to　a　tiny；　faded　blue　house　that　was　so　small　it　looked　like　it　was　out　of　a　cartoon。　A　
couple　of　little　kids　were　perched　on　the　steps　licking　strawberry　ice　cream　cones。　

？Two　vanilla　cones；？　Tawny　purred　to　the　pimply　guy　behind　the　counter。　She　had　the　faintest　
hint　of　an　accent；　but　Nate　couldn？t　quite　place　it。　

？No　story。？　Nate　idly　kicked　the　side　of　the　cartoon　house　with　the　toes　of　his　battered　Stan　
Smiths。　He　wanted　to　run　his　hands　up　and　down　her　warm；　freckled　arms。　

Tawny　knelt　down　and　smiled　and　laid　a　five…dollar　bill　on　the　counter；　reaching　inside　the　
window　to　retrieve　two　pointy　sugar　cones　piled　high　with　creamy　white　scoops　of　ice　cream。　She　
handed　one　to　Nate。　

？Thanks。？　The　ice　cream　started　to　melt　immediately　in　the　late　afternoon　sun；　trickling　down　his　
hand。　He　licked　it　delicately。　

Tawny　touched　his　skinned　knee　gently。　There　was　some…thing　about　the　way　she　did　it？a　
possessiveness？　A　certainty？　A　particularje　ne　sais　quoi　？that　reminded　Nate　of　Blair。　But　this　girl　
was　nothing　like　Blair：　Blair　would　never　wear　a　pink　tube　top；　or　let　an　ice　cream　cone　melt　all　
over　her　hands；　or　。　。　。　pay　for　food　on　a　first　date。　

Date？That　was　fast。　

？Are　you　okay？？　Tawny　asked；　rising　to　her　feet。　She　licked　her　pink；　swollen…looking　lips。　？You　
look　so　serious。？　

The　truth　was；　Nate　was　wondering　what　Tawny　looked　like　without　her　tube　top　on。　Was　her　
chest　freckled　too？　His　hands　itched　just　thinking　about　it。　

？I？m　just　really　glad　I　met　you；？　Nate　told　her　a　little　goofily。　He　dabbed　his　chin　with　a　
napkin。　？We　should　hang　out　this　summer。？　


A　world　record：　Nate　Archibald　managed　to　swear　off　girls　for　three　whole　minutes。　

love　don？t　live　here　anymore　

Vanessa　slammed　the　rusty　cab　door　and　stared　up　at　the　weather…beaten　brick　fa？ade　of　her　
Williamsburg　apartment　building；　still　mulling　over　Ken？s　job　offer。　She　wished　there　was　
someone　she　could　ask　for　advice；　but　she　knew　better　than　to　call　her　self…absorbed；　
Vermont…living　hippie　parents。　They？d　just　lecture　her　about　art　and　merce　and　？creative　
responsibility。？　She　wished　her　sister　Ruby　was　around？she　was　the　only　one　Vanessa　really　
trusted　to　talk　to　about　these　things。　

A　white　Ford　station　wagon　with　a　broken　windshield　was　parked　in　front　of　the　building　where　
it　had　been　for　weeks。　One　of　the　back　doors　was　missing；　and　the　seats　were　piled　with　garbage　
bags　and　old　blankets。　Someone　must　have　been　living　in　it；　which　would　explain　the　stench　of　
urine　that　surrounded　the　car。　

Nice。　

Vanessa　unlocked　the　building？s　plicated　array　of　dead　bolts　and　latches　and　clomped　up　the　
stairs；　hesitating　halfway　up。　There　were　voices　ing　from　inside　her　apartment。　Had　she　left　
the　TV　on？　She　tiptoed　to　the　door　and　listened；　not　breathing。　Yes；　it　wasdefinitely　voices；　they　
weredefinitely　ing　from　inside；　and　there　was　something　very　familiar　about　one　of　the　voices。　

Vanessa？s　older　sister　Ruby　had　been　on　a　whirlwind　tour　of　Europe　with　her　band；　SugarDaddy；　
for　eight　weeks。　An　occasional　postcard　from　Madrid　or　Oslo　had　appeared　in　the　mailbox；　and　
they？d　spoken　on　the　phone　once；　but　the　touring…rock…girl　lifestyle　wasn？t　all　that　conducive　to　
staying　in　touch。　

Vanessa　threw　the　door　open　excitedly。　？Ruby！？　Vanessa　cried；　taking　in　her　sister　in　her　purple　
leather　pants　and　her　new　matching　shade　of　hair。　It　looked　almost　iridescent。　？I　can？t　believe　
you？re　back！？　

？Hey；？　Ruby　greeted　her　casually　from　the　couch。　She　was　straddling　a　skinny；　stubbly…faced　guy　
wearing　black　leather　pants　just　like　Ruby？s　purple　ones。　Ruby　touched　the　tip　of　her　cigarette　to　
the　tip　of　his　to　light　it。　She　didn？t　get　up　to　hug　her　sister；　and　her　tone　of　voice　was　pletely　
nonchalant；　like　Vanessa　had　just　been　at　the　grocery　store　to　buy　milk　or　something。　

？Um；　hi？？　Vanessa　was　slightly　taken　aback。　She　closed　the　apartment　door　behind　her。　

？What？s　going　on；　sis？？　asked　Ruby；　puffing　on　her　Marlboro　as　she　surveyed　the　apartment？s　


Blairified　decor。　？I　see　you　did　some　redecorating。？　

Vanessa　didn？t　want　to　make　small　talk　about　Blair？s　renovations。　Ruby　was　back　just　when　she　
needed　her　most！　？Hello；　you？re　back！　That？s　what？s　going　on。　How　was　the　tour？？　

Her　older　sister　shrugged。　？Berlin；　London；　Paris；　Budapest。　We　rocked。　It　was　incredible。？　

？All　hail　the　conquering　rock　star。　I？m　Vanessa。？　She　clomped　over　to　the　guy　Ruby　was　
straddling。　He