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

it was thick and long, but in between were bald patches and
patches of five o’clock shadow. His curly gray hair was matted and
his brown eyes bleary. There was a cigarette tucked behind each of
his ears.
Jenny and Dan looked at their father for a moment in silence.
Then Jenny sighed and turned back to the dishes. “Never mind,”
she said.
Dan smirked and leaned back in his chair. Their father hated the
Upper East Side and all its pretensions. He only sent Jenny to
Constance because it was a very good school and because he used
to date one of the English teachers there. But he hated the idea
that Jenny might be influenced by her classmates, or “those
debutantes,” as he called them.
Dan knew their dad was going to love this.
“Jenny wants to go to some fancy benefit next week,” he said.
Mr. Humphrey pulled one of the cigarettes from behind his ear and
stuck it in his mouth, playing with it between his lips. “A benefit for
what?” he demanded.
Dan rocked his chair back and forth, a smug look on his face. Jenny
turned off the faucet and glared at him, daring him to go on.
“Get this,” Dan said. “It’s a party to raise money for those peregrine
falcons that live in Central Park. They’re probably going to build like,
birdhouse mansions for them or something. Like there aren’t
thousands of homeless people that could use the money.”
“Oh, shut up,” Jenny said, furious. “You think you know everything.
It’s just a stupid party. I never said it was a great cause.”
“You call that a cause?” her father bellowed. “Shame on you. Those
people only want those birds around because they’re pretty.
Because it makes them feel like they’re in the pretty countryside,
like they’re at their houses in Connecticut or Maine. They’re
decorative. Leave it to the leisure class to come up with some
charity that does absolutely no one any good at all!”
Jenny leaned back against the kitchen counter, stared up at the
ceiling, and tuned her father out. She’d heard this same tirade
before. It didn’t change anything. She still wanted to go to that
party.
“I just want to have some fun,” she said stubbornly. “Why does it
have to be such a big deal?”
“It’s a big deal because you’re going to get used to this silly
debutante nonsense, and you’re going to wind up a big fake like
your mother, who hangs around rich people all the time because
she’s too scared to think for herself,” her father shouted, his
unshaven face turning dark red. “Dammit, Jenny. You remind me
more and more of your mother every day.”