gossip girl 9 英文- 第11部分

her　dramatic　departure　from　Marcus？s　hometown。　Had　he　even　noticed　she　was　gone？　

？？this　is　the　perfect　opportunity　for　you　to　find　some　work　for　the　summer。　A　job。？　

Awhat　？　No　prende；　se？ora。　

The　room　was　spinning。　？What　did　you　just　say；　Mom？　Ajob　？？　

？Yes；　dear。　A　job。？　

Blair　fell　back　onto　the　pillows　and　threw　her　arm　over　her　eyes。　？But　I？lldie　if　I　have　to　work。？　

？Don？t　overreact；？　Eleanor　insisted。　？It？ll　be　a　terrific　experience　before　starting　school。？　


？Haveyou　ever　worked？？　Blair　demanded。　She　began　to　flip　through　the　magazine　angrily；　
almost　tearing　the　pages　as　she　turned　them。　She？d　just　fled　a　country；　having　been　spurned　by　the　
love　of　her　life。　A　lecture　from　her　never…worked…a…day…in…her…life　mother　on　the　merits　of　
employment　and　pulling　herself　up　by　her　bootstraps　was　the　absolutelast　thing　she　needed。　

？That？s　beside　the　point；？　Eleanor　replied　evenly。　？We？re　not　talking　about　me；　we？re　talking　
about　you　helping　to　pay　some　of　these　exorbitant　bills。　If　you？re　going　to　spend　this　much；　
you？re　going　to　have　to　earn　something。？　

Workfor　the　summer？　Blair　closed　her　eyes？no　one　she　knew　was　working　during　this；　their　last　
summer　vacation　ever。　No　one！　Well；　except　for　Nate；　but　that　was　a　punishment。　There　was　
Serena；　too；　but　that　wasn？t　really　a　job？it　was　a　dream　e　true。　

Blair？s　eyes　suddenly　came　to　rest　on　the　page　in　front　of　her。Speak　of　the　fucking　devil　。　There；　
smack…dab　in　the　middle　of　Suzy？s　latest　reports　on　all　the　society　gossip；　was　a　photograph　of　
Serena　van　der　Woodsen　arm　in　arm　with　the　designer　Bailey　Winter。　Blair　remembered　when　that　
photograph　had　been　taken；　at　Winter？s　runway　presentation　the　previous　season。　She　and　Serena　
had　been　seated　in　the　front　row？naturally？and　when　the　designer　had　e　out　to　take　his　final　
bow；　he？d　noticed　Serena　in　the　audience　and　pulled　her　up　onto　the　runway　with　him。　

Tuning　out　her　mother？s　relentless　drone；　Blair　scanned　the　page　to　see　whether　there　was　some　
news　about　Serena。　And　indeed　there　was：　Suzy？s　column　was　all　about　how　Bailey　Winter　had　
signed　on　with　Ken　Mogul　to　provide　the　costumes　for　Mogul？s　new　film　project；Breakfast　at　
Fred？s。　It　wasn？t　enough　that　Serena　got　to　star　in　a　movie　with　Thaddeus　Smith；　she　also　got　to　
wear　custom　designs　by　one　of　the　best　living　American　designers？　

？I　just　think　it？s　a　matter　of　responsibility；　Blair；？　her　mother　declared。　？You　know；　when　you　
turn　twenty…one　you？ll　get　access　to　your　trust　fund；　and　your　father　and　Cyrus　and　I　need　to　know　
that　you？ll　handle　the　money　responsibly。　We　feel　very　strongly　that　a　job　is　the　perfect　way　for　
you　to　learn　to　manage　money　and　carry　out　other　people？s　wishes；　not　just　your　own。？　

Blair　glared　at　the　ugly　eggplant…colored　bedspread。　Fine；　she？d　get　a　summer　job。　But　she　was　
not　going　to　settle　for　anything　less　than　the　most　glamorous　summer　job　imaginable。　

？You　know；？　she　mused；　？maybe　you？re　right。　Maybe　a　job　is　just　what　I　need　to　keep　myself　
busy　this　summer。？　

？Yes！？　her　mother　cried　happily。　？I　knew　you？d　e　around！？　

？And　maybe　you　can　help　me　get　one？？　Blair　asked　sweetly。　

？Of　course！？　Eleanor　agreed。　？I？m　sure　we　can　make　some　phone　calls　and　find　you　something　
wonderful　in　no　time　at　all！？　


There　was；　of　course；　only　one　telephone　call　she　needed　her　mother　to　make。　Being　the　daughter　
of　Eleanor　Rose；　Bailey　Winter？s　most　loyal　couture　client；　would　surely　e　in　handy　when　it　
came　to　landing　an　assistantship　on　the　set　ofBreakfast　at　Fred？s　。　

If　you　can？t　beat　？em；　join　？em！　

it？s　getting　hot　in　here　

Furtively　cupping　the　butt　in　his　palm；　Dan　took　a　long　last　drag　on　his　cigarette　and　tossed　it　to　
the　ground；　stubbing　it　out　quickly　and　exhaling　smoke　into　the　breeze。　He　was　stationed　on　a　
bench　at　the　corner　of　Sixth　Avenue　and　Houston　and　could　see　Bree　crossing　the　street。　He　didn？t　
want　her　to　catch　him　smoking？again。　

？Dan！？　Bree　called　out；　dodging　the　battalion　of　cabs　creeping　up　Sixth　Avenue；　waving　
excitedly。　She　was　wearing　short；　stretchy　black　pants　that　flared　a　little　at　her　calves　and　a　
turquoise　sports　bra　and　was　carrying　a　gray　Nalgene　water　bottle。　She　trotted　through　the　traffic　

and　up　to　the　bench。　

？Hi！　It？s　so　good　to　see　you。？　

？You　too；？　Dan　replied；　oh…so…casually　closing　his　book　and　grinning　at　her。　

？Oh！　You？re　readingThe　Way　of　the　Artist　！？　she　exclaimed。　？Ilove　that　book。？　

？Really？？　Dan　had　a　feeling　she　might。　？That？s　a　funny　coincidence。？　

Sure　it　is。　

？Totally；？　giggled　Bree。　？FirstSiddhartha　；nowThe　Way　of　the　Artist　？　You　must　be　the　Strand？s　

spiritual　expert。？　

？Oh；　definitely；？　Dan　lied。　？Everyone　they　hire　has　a　different　specialty。？　

？Cool。？　Bree　grabbed　his　hand　and　yanked　him　up　off　the　bench。　？Now　e　on！　We？re　going　to　

be　late。？　

？Okay；？　Dan　agreed　cheerfully。　？I　hate　missing　the　previews。？　

？Previews？？　Bree　asked。　？We？re　not　going　to　the　movies。　Remember？　We？re　going　to　Bikram。？　


？Uh；　yeah；？　Dan　replied　nervously。Bikram；　Bikram；　Bikram。　Not　a　movie。　Maybe　a　
restaurant？　？Right。　Um；　good；　I？m；　uh；　starving。？　

Bree　laughed。　？Yeah；　I？m　pretty　hungry　for　some　exercise　myself。　Let？s　hurry　so　we　don？t　miss　
this　class？the　evening　sessions　are　even　more　intense　than　the　ones　I　usually　take。　And　maybe　
afterwards　I？ll　buy　you　a　Jamba　Juice。？　

Class？　Jamba　Juice？　She　might　as　well　have　been　speaking　Swahili。　Dan　had　no　idea　where　they　
were　going　but　he　followed　Bree　down　the　street；　making　idle　chitchat　about　books　he　hadn？t　
actually　read　and　getting　more　and　more　worried。　It　didn？t　seem　likely　that　they　were　going　to　a　
restaurant。　Then　Dan　looked　up　and　saw　it；　looming　in　the　distance：　a　hand…painted　sign　with　a　
funny；　Indian…style　font　that　was　supposed　to　look　like　Sanskrit　that　proudly　proclaimed　BIKRAM。　
It　wasn？t　a　movie。　It　wasn？t　a　restaurant。　Bikram　was　a　kind　ofyoga　。　Bree　was　taking　him　to　a　
yoga　class。　

　Namaste！　

Bree　trotted　up　the　stairs　eagerly；　like　a　kid　on　Christmas　morning。　She　turned　and　glanced　over　
her　shoulder　at　Dan；　who　was　lagging　behind；　trying　to　think　of　an　excuse　not　to　participate。　He　
decided　to　feign　an　injury　and　was　trying　to　choose　a　part　of　his　body　he　could　claim　to　have　hurt。　
He　had　a　cracked　rib　maybe；　from　lifting　too　many　dictionaries。　He？d　been　hit　by　a　car　on　his　way　
to　work　this　morning　and　was　pretty　sure　he　was　concussed。　He　had　a　rare　neural　disorder　that　
caused　him　to　black　out　in　small　crowded　rooms　full　of　sweaty　people　lying　on　colorful　rubber　
mats。　

？PS；　Dan；？　Bree　called　down　to　him。　？I？m　glad　you　didn？t　bother　with　a　change　of　clothes。　For　
the　evening　sessions；Yogi　keeps　the　heat　even　higher　than　usual；　so　we　usually　just　go　naked。？　

Now　things　were　getting　plicated。　First；　there　was　no　way　he　was　going　to　do　yoga；　and　
second；　he？d　be　damned　if　he　was　going　to　do　yoganaked　。　On　the　other　hand；　Bree　would　be　there　
too；　he？d　get　to　see　her　pletely　naked　the　very　first　time　they　hung　out。　

？Um；　great！？　he　enthused；　already　out　of　breath　from　climbing　the　stairs。　Dan　had　never　
exercised　in　his　life；　but　the　sight　of　Bree？s　round；　yoga…firm　butt　a　few　steps　above　him　was　all　
the　motivation　he　needed。　Forget　that　he？d　never　done　yoga；　never　mind　that　he　was　sure　to　be　
humiliated；　and　fuck　the　seemingly　endless　flight　of　stairs：　he　was　going　to　get　into　all　sorts　of　
pretzel…like　positions　with　Bree；naked　。　What　was　there　not　to　love？　

　That？s　the　spirit！　

？e　on！？　Bree　urged　giddily。　

Dan　reached　the　top　of　the　stairs　and　followed　her　into　the　Tranquility　Yoga　Studio；　a　wide…open　
space　with　gleaming　wide…plank　pine　floors。　The　room　was　almost　all　windows　and　was　flooded　


with　the　late　afternoon　sun？and　the　rays　only　intensified　the　heat。　The　temperature　in　the　room　
must　have　been　near　a　hundred　and　twenty　degrees；　and　with　the　sunlight　and　all　the　naked　bodies；　
it　was　also　humid　and　very　。　。　。fragrant　。　

On　a　platform　in　the　front　of　the　room　was　an　emaciated…looking　Indian　man　with　gleaming；　
well…oiled　skin；　dressed　only　in　a　loosely　cinched　white　cotton　robe；　seated　with　his　spindly　legs　
crossed　in　front　of　him。　Below　his　thinly　tweezed　eyebrows　his　eyes　were　closed；　and　he　was　
smiling　beatifically。　In　front　of　him　was　a　fortyish　Katie　Couric？looking　woman　doing　her　
warm…up　stretches；　her　paunchy　tummy　hanging　loosely　over　her　bare；　veiny　thighs。　

A　couple　of　guys　warmed　up　by　the　windows？one　with　long；　sinewy　muscles　who　arched　his　
back　in　a　way　that　just　didn？t　look　natural；　and　a　silver…haired　grandfather　type　touching　his　toes　
effortlessly。　He　really　put　Dan　to　shame　。　。　。　in　every　department。　

？Better　get　undressed。？　Bree　winked　at　Dan。　？Master　doesn？t　like　to　start　class　even　a　minute　late。　
Anyone　who？s　not　undressed　and　ready　to　go　is　asked　to　leave。？　

Dan　had　been　on　the　verge　of　explaining　to　Bree　that　he　was　epileptic　and　had　forgotten　to　take　
his　medication；　but　then　she　started　to　yank　her　turquoise　sports　bra　over　her　head。　Wow。　What　
could　he　do？　

　Strip！　

He　pulled　his　dirty　T…shirt　over　his　head　and　let　it　fall　to　the　ground。　Then　he　unbuckled　his　belt；　
kicked　off　his　shoes；　and　pulled　down　his　jeans。　He　was　the　only　guy　in　the　room　wearing　boxer　
shorts；　but　he　stubbornly　kept　them　on。　

Like　his　vampire　tan　and　skinny　arms　didn？t　make　him　stand　out　enough。　

He　balled　his　socks　up　and　stuffed　them　into　his　shoes；　then　took　a　deep　breath　and　followed　
Bree　out　onto　the　floor；　where　she　started　to　stretch。　Her　flawless　skin　was　tanall　over　；　which　he　
knew　for　sure；　since　he　could　seeeverything　。　Her　long　blond　hair　fell　over　one　of　her　
handful…sized　breasts　and　Dan　had　to　remind　himself　he　couldn？t　just　go　and　grab　them　right　now。　
She　bent　over　and　touched　her　palms　to　the　floor。　He　tried　to　mimic　her；　but　he　could　barely　touch　
his　knees。　It　was　agonizing。　

？Don？t　bend；？　Bree　whispered。　？Stretch；　stretch。？　

It　was　impossible　to　see　Bree？s　perfect　naked　body　stretching　and　contorting　without　the　fly　of　
his　boxers　expanding　to　embarrassing　proportions。　Dan　stared　as　she　took　her　foot　in　her　hand　and　
extended　it　straight　over　her　head。　He　closed　his　eyes　and　tried　to　think　of　unsexy　things；　like　the　
way　food　always　got　stuck　in　his　aunt　Sophia？s　dentures　or　how　the　side…walk　in　front　of　his　
building　always　smelled　like　dog　piss。　The　sweat　was　already　pouring　down　his　face　and　they　


hadn？t　even　done　anything　yet。　He　used　his　forearm　to　wipe　the　sweat　from　his　brow。　

？Dan；　no！？　whispered　Bree。　？Don？t　let　master　see　you　do　that。　The　whole　point　is　to　sweat　it　out。　
You　can？t　wipe　it　off。　It　goes　against　his　teachings。？　

Why　couldn？t　Bikram　have　been　a　nice　foreign　film？　They　could　be　eating　popcorn　in　a　dark；　
air…conditioned　theater　making　out　instead　of　sweating　in　this　stifling　room　and　following　the　
orders　of　some　sadist。　Suddenly　the　teacher　rose　from　his　seated　position　on　the　dais　at　the　front　of　
the　room　and　let　his　robe　drop　to　the　floor。　

？Namaste！？　he　called；　in　a　joyful；　booming　voice；　bowing　slightly。　

？Namaste！？　the　rest　of　the　class　replied；　bowing　back。　

Well；　most　of　the　class。　

？Let？s　begin　with