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