第8部分(第3/7 頁)

ning　to　a　word　Vanessa　was　saying。

“You’re　going　to　hear　the　silence　of　the　buildings　and　the　bench　and

the　sidewalk；　and　see　the　streetlights　on　their　bodies。　Then　you’ll

see　their　hands　move　and　their　eyes　talking。　Then　you’ll　hear　them

speak；　but　not　much。　It’s　a　mood　piece；”　Vanessa　explained。

She　reached　for　the　slide　projector’s　remote　control　and　began

clicking　through　slides　of　the　black…and…white　pictures　she’d　taken

to　demonstrate　the　look　she　was　going　for　in　her　short　film。　A

wooden　park　bench。　A　slab　of　pavement。　A　manhole　cover。　A　pigeon

pecking　at　a　used　condom。　A　wad　of　gum　perched　on　the　edge　of　a

garbage　can。

“Ha！”　someone　exclaimed　from　the　back　of　the　room。　It　was　Blair

Waldorf；　laughing　out　loud　as　she　read　the　note　Rain　Hoffstetter　had

just　passed　her。

For　a　good　time　call　Serena　v。d。　Woodsen　Get　it　—VD？？

Vanessa　glared　at　Blair。　Film　was　Vanessa’s　favorite　class；　the　only

reason　she　came　to　school　at　all。　She　took　it　very　seriously；　while

most　of　the　other　girls；　like　Blair；　were　only　taking　Film　as　a　break

from　Advanced　Placement　hell—AP　Calculus；　AP　Bio；　AP　History；　AP

English　Literature；　AP　French。　They　were　on　the　straight　and　narrow

path　to　Yale　or　Harvard　or　Brown；　where　their　families　had　all　gone

for　generations。　Vanessa　wasn’t　like　them。　Her　parents　hadn’t　even

gone　to　college。　They　were　artists；　and　Vanessa　wanted　only　one

thing　in　life：　to　go　to　NYU　and　major　in　film。

Actually；　she　wanted　something　else。　Or　someone　else；　to　be

precise；　but　we’ll　get　to　that　in　a　minute。

Vanessa　was　an　anomaly　at　Constance；　the　only　girl　in　the　school

who　had　a　nearly