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

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Erik said gently.
Serena propped her pillows against the headboard of her bed and
wriggled under her comforter. She rested her head against the
pillows and closed her eyes. “It’s just that no one’s talking to me
anymore. I don’t even know why, but ever since I’ve been back it’s
been like I have mad cow disease or something,” she explained.
The tears began to fall from underneath her closed lids.
“What about Blair and Nate? Those guys must be talking to you,”
Erik said. “They’re your best friends.”
“Not anymore,” Serena said quietly. Tears were streaming freely
down her face now. She picked up a pillow and dabbed it against
her cheeks to ebb the flow.
“Well, you know what I say?” Erik said.
Serena swallowed and wiped her nose on the back of her hand.
“What?”
“Fuck ’em. Totally. You don’t need them. You’re like, the coolest
chick in the Western Hemisphere. Fuck ’em, fuck ’em, fuck ’em,” he
said.
“Yeah,” Serena said dubiously. “But they’re my friends.”
“Not anymore. You just said so yourself. You can get new friends. I’m
serious,” Erik said. “You can’t let assholes turn you into an asshole.
You just have to fuck ’em.”
It was a perfect Erikism. Serena laughed, wiped her runny nose on a
pillow, and threw it across the room. “Okay,” she said, sitting up.
“You’re right.”
“I’m always right. That’s why I’m so hard to get ahold of. There’s a
huge demand for people like me,” he said.
“I miss you,” Serena told him, chewing on her pinky nail.
“I miss you too,” Erik said.
“Serena? We’re leaving!” she heard her mother call from out in the
hall.
“Okay, I better go,” Serena said. “Love you.”
“Bye.”
Serena clicked off. On the end of her bed was the invitation to the
Kiss on the Lips party that Jenny had made for her. She snatched it
up and tossed it in her wastepaper basket.
Erik was right. She didn’t have to go to some stupid benefit just
because everyone else was going. They didn’t even want her there.
Fuck ’em. She was free to do what she pleased.
She carried the phone over to her desk and shuffled through a pile
of papers until she found the Constance Billard School student
directory, which had arrived in the mail on Monday. Serena read
through the names. She wasn’t the only one skipping the party. She
could find someone else to hang out with.