closely： Anthony was
wearing a pair of crazy printed Vilebrequin board shorts； some beat…up old flip…flops； and a pair of
sunglasses。 He had a tan to rival Nate？s but no bags under his crystal…clear eyes and he looked like
a million other guys in the Hamptons： like a guy on vacation； driving home from the beach；
having a quick smoke。 Nate exhaled unhappily。 The pot was great but it didn？t change the fact that
he was tired； he was bummed out； he was 。 。 。 jealous。 Why did Anthony get to chill at the beach
all day while he had to work like a dog？
Maybe because Anthony didn？t steal performance…enhancing drugs from his lax coach？
Nate drummed on the windowsill in time with the old Dylan disc on the stereo and drifted off for
a moment； imagining the ideal summer： he？d be at the beach； of course； surfing at Montauk or just
lazing around on the sand； tooling around in his dad？s Aston Martin convertible； smoking with
Anthony and his other friends from the lacrosse team； staying in bed with Blair until the early
afternoon。 Or maybe he？d take Blair sailing for a couple of weeks along the coast of Maine。 Teach
her how to fish。 Eat lobster。 Have lots of sex。 Sleep。 Have more sex。 Go for a swim。 Sex again。
？Dude； you there？？ Anthony asked。
？Sorry；？ Nate mumbled； ing back to reality。
？It？s cool。？ Anthony pulled up to a red light。 Three girls sauntered by in bikini tops and surf
shorts。 They were only about thirteen but they were still cute。 ？So what？s the deal with that Tawny
chick； man？ She？s hot。？
？Yeah；？ Nate replied； passing the joint back。 ？She？s cool。 I don？t know； though。 Maybe I？m off
girls right now or something。？
Anthony burst ou