The Carlyles by Cecily von Ziegesar Page B
Authors: Cecily von Ziegesar
Tags: United States, Fiction, General, Family & Relationships, Romance, Juvenile Nonfiction, People & Places, Juvenile Fiction, Travel, Social Issues, Interpersonal relations, Brothers and sisters, New York (N.Y.), Girls & Women, FIC009020, Schools, wealth, Northeast, Middle Atlantic, High schools, Adolescence, Lifestyles, City & Town Life, Triplets
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anything. Or if you see her, maybe she’d talk. Just let me know if you find out anything. It’s all this guy’s fucking fault.” Rhys stood and kicked his locker. It made a sharp clanging sound that echoed through the empty locker room.
“Sterling, don’t break a bone over a lady,” Coach yelled from the tiny side office adjacent to the locker room. “And especially not one bone in particular!” he added with a cackle.
Rhys turned red. Fuck. Even Coach knew he’d been dumped. Was there any way to keep the news from spreading?
Get a team of cute boys to take a vow of abstinence. Who won’t be talking?
gossipgirl.net
----
topics / sightings / your e-mail / post a question
----
hey people!
It’s midnight, and the first day of school has officially come to a close. Now, some housekeeping: I know a uniformless summer may have left some people rusty on how to make the most of them, so let’s take a little time to refresh our memories.
The do’s and don’ts of Dress-code Conduct
The shorter the better, but don’t forget to wear something underneath your skirt. This is New York, not L.A., and going La Perla–less will only ensure a day of total discomfort. Beyond that, it’s risky. And, um, gross.
Nothing looks less sexy than a pit-stained Chloé cashmere sweater, so layer light. And for heaven’s sake, don’t skimp on the deodorant.
A black shoes–only rule can be manipulated in oh so many ways. It’s all about the three M ’s: Marni wedges, Manolo kitten heels, and Marc Jacobs. There’s no better way to express oneself than through shoes. Or, in my case, Choos.
Sightings
A moving van outside J ’s town house. Could our Upper East Side princess be (gasp!) leaving us? . . . A balancing two huge bags of antique teacups as she entered a cab. Crumpets, anyone . . . ? O chugging blue Gatorade with wet hair, grinning ear to ear as he exited the 92nd Street Y . Why so happy, handsome? . . . R crying outside an apartment building on Fifth. Getting ready for the interschool production of Romeo & Juliet , or living our a real romantic tragedy? . . . K buying new Cosabellas at Barneys . We all know new lingerie can mean only two things: losing it to her R , or losing R for someone else. . . . J ’s mom, also at Barneys , trying to return last season’s Gucci over-the-knee mohair boots. Of course they were a mistake, but you can’t expect Barneys to pay for your poor fashion choices. Tsk, tsk.
your e-mail
Dear Gossip Girl,
I saw A getting totally friendly with that weirdo with the tattoos at the Constance assembly. Do you think they’re together? Like, together together?
—2GIRLTROUBLE
Dear 2,
Why, are you jealous?
—GG
Dear GG,
Ur column sux. U are some lame-assed poser and IM totally going to find out who u R.
—REALUESGIRL
Dear REALUESGIRL,
You (U?) seem to have a lot of misplaced hostility. I will let you know that I am as Upper East Side as they come—and I’m not shaking in my Christian Louboutin eel-skin boots over a badly spelled text message. If you can’t handle the truth, maybe you would be better off living somewhere else. Like Weehawken. But let’s not fight!
—GG
Now that the first day is over, we can turn our attention to more important matters. Like, who’s going to host the first party of the year? All bets are on J . Although I’ve never been the betting type. . . .
You know you love me,
gossip girl
Campaign Strategies 101
Tuesday morning before school, Avery slipped out of the Carlyle apartment, pleased that Baby wasn’t even awake.
“Miss Carlyle.” The gray-uniformed doorman nodded briskly to her, and Avery couldn’t help smiling. The air smelled fresh, birds chirped noisily, and the sidewalks were glittering with water, even though Avery hadn’t remembered a rainstorm. That was what it was like in New York City—each day was a fresh start, the previous day washed away.
And today was definitely a new day. Last night she’d locked herself in her room, putting
“Sterling, don’t break a bone over a lady,” Coach yelled from the tiny side office adjacent to the locker room. “And especially not one bone in particular!” he added with a cackle.
Rhys turned red. Fuck. Even Coach knew he’d been dumped. Was there any way to keep the news from spreading?
Get a team of cute boys to take a vow of abstinence. Who won’t be talking?
gossipgirl.net
----
topics / sightings / your e-mail / post a question
----
hey people!
It’s midnight, and the first day of school has officially come to a close. Now, some housekeeping: I know a uniformless summer may have left some people rusty on how to make the most of them, so let’s take a little time to refresh our memories.
The do’s and don’ts of Dress-code Conduct
The shorter the better, but don’t forget to wear something underneath your skirt. This is New York, not L.A., and going La Perla–less will only ensure a day of total discomfort. Beyond that, it’s risky. And, um, gross.
Nothing looks less sexy than a pit-stained Chloé cashmere sweater, so layer light. And for heaven’s sake, don’t skimp on the deodorant.
A black shoes–only rule can be manipulated in oh so many ways. It’s all about the three M ’s: Marni wedges, Manolo kitten heels, and Marc Jacobs. There’s no better way to express oneself than through shoes. Or, in my case, Choos.
Sightings
A moving van outside J ’s town house. Could our Upper East Side princess be (gasp!) leaving us? . . . A balancing two huge bags of antique teacups as she entered a cab. Crumpets, anyone . . . ? O chugging blue Gatorade with wet hair, grinning ear to ear as he exited the 92nd Street Y . Why so happy, handsome? . . . R crying outside an apartment building on Fifth. Getting ready for the interschool production of Romeo & Juliet , or living our a real romantic tragedy? . . . K buying new Cosabellas at Barneys . We all know new lingerie can mean only two things: losing it to her R , or losing R for someone else. . . . J ’s mom, also at Barneys , trying to return last season’s Gucci over-the-knee mohair boots. Of course they were a mistake, but you can’t expect Barneys to pay for your poor fashion choices. Tsk, tsk.
your e-mail
Dear Gossip Girl,
I saw A getting totally friendly with that weirdo with the tattoos at the Constance assembly. Do you think they’re together? Like, together together?
—2GIRLTROUBLE
Dear 2,
Why, are you jealous?
—GG
Dear GG,
Ur column sux. U are some lame-assed poser and IM totally going to find out who u R.
—REALUESGIRL
Dear REALUESGIRL,
You (U?) seem to have a lot of misplaced hostility. I will let you know that I am as Upper East Side as they come—and I’m not shaking in my Christian Louboutin eel-skin boots over a badly spelled text message. If you can’t handle the truth, maybe you would be better off living somewhere else. Like Weehawken. But let’s not fight!
—GG
Now that the first day is over, we can turn our attention to more important matters. Like, who’s going to host the first party of the year? All bets are on J . Although I’ve never been the betting type. . . .
You know you love me,
gossip girl
Campaign Strategies 101
Tuesday morning before school, Avery slipped out of the Carlyle apartment, pleased that Baby wasn’t even awake.
“Miss Carlyle.” The gray-uniformed doorman nodded briskly to her, and Avery couldn’t help smiling. The air smelled fresh, birds chirped noisily, and the sidewalks were glittering with water, even though Avery hadn’t remembered a rainstorm. That was what it was like in New York City—each day was a fresh start, the previous day washed away.
And today was definitely a new day. Last night she’d locked herself in her room, putting
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