A half hour ago, when the dance had been in “full swing,” Nate felt like he had to get out of there. It was just so lame. So LAME! There was nobody there, there was no booze, it was the goddamn worst. So he had done what he always did: he sneaked away to smoke some weed.
In this case, on this day, he had ended up on the roof. Roofs were good spots for smoking weed. They had views, first of all, and you never looked around a corner and discovered there were cops sniffing you out, because they didn't patrol on roofs. So he was having a good time, not really noticing anything that was going on below him, since there was a building between him and all of those other things, when he saw … was that Carter Baizen climbing out of a window. He looked out over the ledge. “Hey,” he said, “'sup?”