James Rhodes had ranked 4th. The James Dean of Yale—classic dark blond locks, an easy, killer smile, and a gleam in his blue-blue eyes. One flash of his legendary smirk and he had anyone wrapped around his finger. He partied hard and fucked harder. Every weekend there was a. party hosted by him; wild and expensive, destruction woke in his path. He was reckless, addicted to anything that would endanger his very existence—street racing, drugs, fights, booze, jumping off cliffs—he did them all with the kind of rare carpe diem attitude that led to an early death.
