Once Nate had opened the door and let them out, he watched Carter lock the door again ; who's idea was it to install this door that locked from the roof side? That didn't seem like it was the best idea to Nate. He was twirling his lacrosse stick in his left hand, spinning it, casting his eyes over to the bucket of balls over by the edge of the roof. “Don't yell at me,” he told Carter, but not angrily. He was too stoned to be too angry.
“I was just pointing out a flaw in the plan.” He reached into his pocket. “Since we're stuck up here, you guys want to smoke?”