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been posted all over the Internet. People had talked about it for a day or two, and then it had gone away.
And Jenny had never even seemed that bothered by it. She was like Mr. Magoo, running blindly into the
most embarrassing, awkward situations, and then walking out of them, unscathed and blaming nobody.
Hopefully this would be the same, but just in case, Dan felt obliged to warn her.
Jenny sat by herself near the mirrored wall in the back of the Constance Billard basement
cafeteria, eating a grilled cheese sandwich with pickle slices. She concentrated on neatly lining the pickles
up on top of the toasted bread, trying to pretend that she didn't mind eating alone. There was a strange
stillness in the air that she couldn't quite explain, but every time she glanced up at the mirrors, all she saw
were the heads of the other upper-school girls, bowed over their plates, eating quietly.
Right. Since when did upper-school girls ever eat quietly? As a matter of fact, the room was
buzzing, buzzing with the sound of that morning's juiciest scoop.
"I heard she didn't even get paid to do it she volun-teered," Vicky Reinerson whispered.
"But Serena put her up to it, remember? In peer group?"
Mary Goldberg hissed. "She was like, 'Oh, Jenny, anyone can he a supermodel.'"
"Easy for her to say," Cassie Inwirth agreed. "But it's not like I feel sorry for Jenny. It's so
obvious she just wants atten-tion."
"Yeah, but nobody wants that kind of attention," Vicky Countered.
The three girls stole a glance at the back of Jenny's head. I low could she just sit there eating her
lunch like nothing was wrong?
Jenny's cell phone rang quietly inside her bag. "Hey," she answered without even checking who'd
called. Dan and Elise wore the only ones who ever did anyway, and she and Elise were no longer friends.
She tucked the phone under her curly brown bob to hide it from the lunch ladies. "What's up?"
"I'm just calling to check that you're okay," Dan mumbled back.
Jenny stared at her reflection in the mirror. She'd worn pink metal barrettes in her hair today, and
she thought she looked sort of retro and cool. "Um, I think so."
"So no one's, like, said anything to you or ...," Dan faltered.
"About what? Why, did you do something weird, Dan?" Jenny accused.
"About the photo of you in that magazine? The guys here all stole it from their sisters. They're
putting it up in their lockers and stuff."
A little shiver shot up Jenny's spine. Dan wouldn't be so concerned if the picture was as good as
she thought it was. "Did you see it? What's wrong with it?"
He didn't respond.
"Dan!" Jenny practically shouted. "What's wrong with it?"
"It's just. . .," Dan fumbled. "Okay, the whole thing is about how girls with no chest or really big
chests aren't popular. I guess the article is supposed to make you feel better, but you kind of look like
a... circus freak next to the other girls. I mean, they basically made you look as big and freakish as
possible."
Jenny slid the tray of food away and rested her head on the cold wooden table. No wonder the
room seemed so quiet. Everyone had been busy whispering about her, the big-boobed freak.
Yup.
It was even worse than a Stayfree ad. She was the circus freak. Maybe she should just run away
and live with her neu-rotic mom in Europe or something. Change her name. Dye her hair orange.
"Jenny?" Dan said gently. "I'm sorry."
"Never mind," Jenny said miserably, and clicked off. She kept her head on the table, wishing she
could just disappear.
All of a sudden she felt a warm body next to hers and smelled Serena's trademark signature
essential-oil mixture.
"Hey sleepyhead. So, Jonathan Joyce you know who he |s, right? calls me, like, all excited
about your Polaroids. He knows we're pals and totally wants to shoot us together, like, later this week!"
Was this some sort of vicious joke? Jenny squeezed her eyes shut as tight as they could go and
tried to will Serena away.
"You'll get to keep some of the clothes," Serena added.
Jenny raised her head and stood up shakily. "Leave me alone," she murmured, then bolted out of
the cafeteria to the nurse's office, where she planned to beg to be sent home.
d's little furry friends
"Tooter, look at that!" Tiphany put the ferret on her shoulder and waved his paw up and down at
Chuck Bass's little white monkey. The monkey was wearing a tiny red T-shirt with the letter S
monogrammed on it. "Hey little monkey, wanna be my friend?"
Vanessa and Tiphany had come to pick Dan up from school. "Maybe not," Vanessa warned,
knowing how much Dan hated Chuck's guts.
"Hey cutie, what's your name?" Chuck came over and scratched Tooter under the chin. He held
his monkey up so the two animals were nose-to-nose. "I'm Sweetie. And don't worry, I don't bite. I
really am sweet."
"I'm Tooter," Tiphany chirped in her version of a ferret voice. "And beware, I really can toot!"
she added, cackling hilariously.
Dan pushed open the school doors and paused at the top of the steps. He hitched his black
messenger bag onto his shoulder, squinting in the harsh April sunlight. All afternoon he'd been worrying
about his little sister. Jenny was probably at home right now, facedown on her bed, all alone. His house
was only twenty blocks away; maybe he ought to go up there and try to cheer her up. Then again, when
Jenny was upset, all she wanted was to be alone, same as him. It ran in the family.
"Hey hot stuff, over here!" Tiphany shouted at him in her glass-shatteringly loud voice. Down on
the sidewalk stood Vanessa, Tiphany, and Chuck Bass. Tiphany's ferret unit Chuck's monkey were
perched on their owners' shoulders grooming each other.
"Christ," Dan muttered. Maybe Chuck would move in with them, too, and they could all be one
big, happy family Or maybe he'd just tell Vanessa right now that he was going to stay at home for a
while. His sister needed him.
"May we escort you home?" Vanessa stepped away from the group as Dan came down the
stairs with a sour expres-sion on his face. She kissed him quickly on the cheek. "Hoy pumpkin, don't
look so pissed off all the time." Dan had been acting pissed off and withdrawn ever since they'd moved in [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]