e； and Mitchell had
overheard Jeremy daring Nate to steal the container of oregano so they could take it home and
smoke it。 Mitchell had proposed to sell them something even more mood…enhancing； and Nate and
his buddies had been ing back ever since。 What was he supposed to do now； buy dime bags
from one of those random； shifty…looking dudes in Central Park？ Most of those guys sold crappy；
dry； Texas…grown stuff anyway； not the succulent green buds Mitchell got directly from his uncle
in Peru。 Besides； he？d heard half the Central Park dealers were narcs just waiting to bust a kid like
him。
Dumping his half…eaten pizza slices in the nearest garbage can； Nate dug into the pockets of his
Hugo Boss naval officer？style coat； searching for a leftover roach。 When he found one he crossed
Fifth Avenue and crouched on a park bench to light it； ignoring the group of giggling tenth…grade
girls in dark blue Constance Billard uniforms ogling him lustily as they walked by。
With his I…know…I？m…hot smile； his golden brown hair； his emerald green eyes； his always…tanned
skin； and his sexy expertise in building and racing sailboats； Nate Archibald was the most
lusted…after boy on the Upper East Side。 He didn？t have to go looking for girls。 They just fell into
his lap。 Literally。
Nate sucked hard on the burning roach and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket。 The problem
was； his other stoner St。 Jude？s buddies？Jeremy Scott Tompkinson； Charlie Dern； and Anthony
Avuldsen？all bought from Mitchell； too。 Mitchell was the best。 But it was worth calling just to
find out if any of them had managed to score a big stash before their dealer had disappeared。
Jer