You're the One That I Want

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Book: You're the One That I Want by Cecily von Ziegesar Read Free Book Online
Authors: Cecily von Ziegesar
Tags: Juvenile Fiction, Social Issues, Adolescence, Lifestyles, City & Town Life, Social Themes
tossed the bra on the floor and crossed her arms over her bare chest. "Did you ask your dad?"

    "Yup," Dan replied happily. "He said okay. But if my grades slip and if I don't have dinner with him and Jenny at least twice a week, I have to move back home." He pulled Vanessa's arms away and dove headfirst into her chest. Vanessa hugged his shaggy head and closed her eyes. She'd only drunk a Coke that night, but the bed was still spinning. She and Dan were in love again. They were moving in together. They might even go to NYU together. It was almost too perfect to believe.

    And how often does anything ever stay that perfect? gossipgirl.co.uk

    topics previous next post a question reply Disclaimer: All the real names of places, people, and events have been altered or abbreviated to protect the innocent. Namely, me.

    HEY, PEOPLE!

    Love how half the senior class is absent from school today. I also wanted to point out something you may have missed during last night's debauchery. Someone--actually a known-him-since-kindergarten friend of ours--was conspicuously absent from last night's proceed-ings. Here's why.

    The dude who got in NOWHERE

    He's always been so cocky about everything, no one had the slight-est doubt he'd get in wherever he wanted to go. It never occurred to any of us that his cockiness might offend his teachers so much that they refused to give him recommendations; that his over-the-top I'm-a-male-runway-model style of dressing and suggestions that his fam-ily buy the school he decided to attend outright might turn interview-ers off; that he was too cocky or too lazy or both to take the SAT more than once; or that he'd send with his applications a videotape of him-self overacting in an interschool musical that he didn't even star in, instead of an application essay.

    And so he was rejected. Not four or five times, but nine. Nine rejections. Ouch! Even the worst scumbag deserves some sympathy for that. But I'm sure he'll find a way to wheedle his way in somewhere. He always does.

    Your e-mail

    Dear GG,

    I'm an administrator at a prestigious East Coast university and i'm traveling to New York this weekend to meet a prospective student. Our university wants him to attend next fall, so it's mandatory that I make a good impression. I hope you don't mind my asking, but what do you value most in a school? More impor-tant, what should I wear this weekend?

    --adminchik

    Dear adminchik,

    I did enough college interviewing not to want to take your ques-tions seriously if I don't have to. What are the fries like in your school's dining halls? If you ask me, that's pretty important. As for what to wear while you're wooing this highly desirable appli-cant? Orange is the new black.

    --GG

    Sightings N escorting B home from True West, while the rest of us were only just getting the party started. S dancing by herself at the aforemen-tioned party--although I'm pretty sure that group of guys behind her wanted to think they were dancing with her. J loading up on nail pol-ish, hair-removal kits, and henna at the twenty-four-hour Duane Reade on Broadway. V and D stumbling out of the Pier Hotel this morning, just in time for school. C, with his monkey, drinking alone on the ter-race of his Sutton Place apartment. We might even feel sorry for him if he weren't so impossible to feel sorry for.

    Oops, that's the bell. More later!

    You know you love me,

    gossip girl see j bounce

    Jenny had always been lauded for her excellent calligraphy and detailed, accurate copies of the major works of classic artists. The handy thing about being artistic and a good copier was that she could forge notes, like this morning's note from her dad about a supposed "allergist appointment" downtown. She sniffled grotesquely as she handed it to her math teacher, Ms. Hinckle. In the back of the room, Elise tucked her straw-thick blond hair behind her ears and pre-tended not to eavesdrop.

    "Next time, try to schedule your appointments after school,"

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