tentatively to check if the ceiling was high enough for him to jump up and down without hitting
his head。Then he started bouncing around crazily。
？Stop！ Stop！？ Blair shrieked。 She stood up and took Nate？s hands； and they bounced together
like a couple of demented； overgrown kids。
Then Nate stopped bouncing； suddenly serious。 ？So； um； does this mean something？？
Blair held on to his hands； swinging them from side to side。 ？Mean something？？ she asked。 ？As
in； are we back together？？
Nate shrugged his shoulders。 ？Yeah。？
Blair blushed again； more deeply this time。 ？Well； we better be； because I love you too。？ Nate
grinned and took a bouncy step forward so that his chin brushed her forehead。 Blair tipped her
head back。 His gold…flecked green eyes sparkled。 And then he kissed her。
It wasn？t like they had a lot more to say。
n knows a desperate housewife when he sees one
？Nate？ Naaa…te？ Whereare you hiding； my little goose…berry？？
That muffled； far…off cry made the fine sun…bleached hairs on the back of Nate Archibald？s
tanned neck stand straight up。 He？d purposely chosen the dingy but deserted attic of Coach
Michaels？s house for a quick escape from yet another day of indentured servitude in the
not…so…fashionable part of Long Island。
Escape； of course； meaning escape to stoned land。 Inhale THC； exhale CO2。
He took a long drag from the freshly rolled joint and blew a plume of warm； dry smoke out the
small half…window； straining to hear where the voice was ing from。 The voice in question
belonged to Patricia； also known as ？Babs；？ Coach Michaels？s ever…present and usually
sun…bathing…topless…by…the…pool wife。 Nate had been wo