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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 working at the Michaelses? Hampton Bays
house since graduation?or in his case; semigraduation; since he hadn?t yet received his diploma;
due to a now…infamous Viagra…stealing incident。 And while Babs had always been
friendly?bringing him tall glasses of lemon…infused ice tea as he guided the lawnmower over
Coach?s beloved lawn; urging him to eat a slice of buttery cinnamon toast when he showed up in
the morning; bleary…eyed and ready for work?for the past two days she?d been 。 。 。 well;extra
friendly。 He might have been stoned most of the time; but he was with it enough to notice that
Babs Michaelsdefinitely had a thing for him。
Doesn?t everyone?
Nate paused and focused all his energy on listening to the quiet house; but the only noise he
heard was the pounding of his stoned; nervous heart。 He brought the joint back up to his lips and
paused?maybe the pot was making him paranoid; but he thought he heard something。 It sounded
like footsteps ing closer。
Shit!Nate hastily stubbed the joint out on the rough wooden windowsill; sending a shower of
sparks onto the floor。 Great?not only was he about to get caught smoking a joint on the job; he was
going to burn the fucking house down in the process。 He tucked the roach into his pocket? no
sense wasting it?and frantically fanned the smoke out the open window。
?Are you up here; Nate?? Babs?s voice boomed from the bottom of the attic stairwell。 ?Do I
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