d 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