Novels by Cecily von Ziegesar: Gossip Girl You Know You ... - Weebly

oy’s white oxford shirt was frayed in the collar and cuffs, and
through it, her purple lace bra was visible. On her feet was her
favorite pair of brown lace-up boots, and her black stockings had a
big hole behind one knee. Worst of all, she’d had to buy all new
uniforms, since she’d thrown hers down the garbage chute when
she’d gone away to boarding school. Her new uniform was what
stuck out the most.
The new uniforms were the plague of the sixth grade, which was the
year Constance girls graduated from a tunic to a skirt. The new
skirts were made out of polyester and had pleats that were
unnaturally rigid. The material had a terrible, tacky sheen and came
in a new color: maroon. It was hideous. And it was this maroon
uniform that Serena had chosen to wear on her first day back at
Constance. Plus, hers came all the way down to her knees! All of the
other seniors were wearing the same old navy blue wool skirts
they’d been wearing since sixth grade. They’d grown so much their
skirts were extremely short. The shorter the skirt, the cooler the
girl.
Blair actually hadn’t grown that much, so she’d secretly had hers
shortened.
“What the fuck is she wearing, anyway?” Kati Farkas hissed.
“Maybe she thinks the maroon looks like Prada or something,”
Laura sniggered back.
“I think she’s trying to make some kind of statement,” Isabel
whispered. “Like, look at me, I’m Serena, I’m beautiful, I can wear
whatever I want.”
And she can, Blair thought. That was one of the things that always
infuriated her about Serena. She looked good in anything.
But never mind how Serena looked. What Jenny and every other
person in the room wanted to know was: Why is she back?
They craned their necks to see. Did she have a black eye? Was she
pregnant? Did she look stoned? Did she have all her teeth? Was
there anything different about her at all?
“Is that a scar on her cheek?” Rain whispered.
“She was knifed one night dealing drugs,” Kati whispered back. “I
heard she had plastic surgery in Europe this summer, but they
didn’t do a very good job.”
Mrs. McLean was reading out loud now. Serena sat back in her chair,
crossed her legs, and closed her eyes, basking in the old familiar
feeling of sitting in this room full of girls, listening to Mrs. M’s voice.
She didn’t know why she’d been so nervous that morning before
school. She’d overslept and gotten dressed in five minutes, ripping
a hole in her black stocking with a jagged toenail. She’d chosen her
brother Erik’s frayed old shirt because it smelled like him. Erik had