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rapidly；　trying　to　clear　them。

After　three　hours　of　smoking；　he　was　kind　of　past　the　point　of　Visine。

？Nate；　my　boy！　Home　at　last！？　The　captain　threw　down　theWall　Street　Journal　and　jumped　to　his

feet；　throwing　his　arms　around　his　son　and　squeezing　tightly；　clapping　him　roughly　on　both

shoulders　as　he　pulled　away。　Nate　felt　dazed；　as　if　he？d　just　woken　up　from　a　long　sleep。　What　the

hell　was　going　on？

His　father　sat　back　down　and　motioned　to　the　matching　leather　chair　across　from　him。　？Sit；　my

boy。　We？ve　got　a　lot　to　catch　up　on。？　Nate　sank　down　in　the　chair　and　started　fiddling　with　the

gold　lighter　in　his　pocket。　Blair　had　given　him　that　lighter　two　summers　ago；　and　the　smooth

weight　of　it　under　his　fingers　calmed　him　down　a　little。

？So；　you？ve　been　on　quite　the　sailing　adventure；　haven？t　you？？　Captain　Archibald　noted；　peering

contemplatively　at　his　son。　It　was　more　of　a　statement　than　a　question。

？Uh；　yeah。　With　Blair。　It　was　great。？　Nate　shifted　unfortably　in　his　seat。　It　wasn？t　like　his

father　to　make　small　talk。

？Tell　me；　son；　are　you　looking　forward　to　Yale？？　The　Captain　reached　up　and　loosened　his　tie

even　more　as　he　spoke；　finally　pulling　it　from　around　his　neck　and　dropping　it　on　the　desk；　where

it　lay　like　a　puddle　of　blue　silk。　So　that　was　it。　The　Captain　had　no　clue　that　Coach　hadn？t　granted

Nate　his　diploma　and　that　there　was　no　way　Yale　would　take　him。

？Yeah；？　Nate　answered；　letting　out　some　of　the　breath　he？d　been　holding。　？Um；　I　think　so。？　His

father　didn？t　know。　But　how　long　could　he　keep　it　from　him？

As　if　reading　Nate？s　mind；　the　Captain　sat　forward　in　his　chair；　a　fierce　look　in　his　green

eyes。　？Youthink　so？？　Uh…oh。

His　father　sat　back　in　his　chair　and　waved　one　hand　in　the　air。　？Let？s　stop　all　the　pussyfooting

around？we？ve　got　some　important　things　to　discuss。？　Nate？s　heart　sank　in　his　chest。　He　dragged　a

scuffed　Stan　Smith　tennis　sneaker　back　and　forth　across　the　Oriental　rug；　knowing　whatthat　meant。

He　squirmed　in　his　chair；　wishing　that　he　was　just　about　anyplace　else？but　most　of　all　that　he　was

out　on　the　water；　with　the　waves　lapping　against　the　sides　of　the　boat。　He　braced　himself；　waiting

nervously　for　his　father　to　speak。

？I？ve　heard　from　Coach　Michaels；　and　I　know　exactly　what？s　going　on。？　Captain　Archibald？s

voice　was　neutral　but　firm；　and　Nate　began　shifting　nervously　again　in　his　chair。　Whenever　his　dad

adopted　this　tone　of　voice；　it　meant　that　he？d　decided　something　with　plete　finality？usually

something　that　Nate　didn？t　want　to　do。　？And　this　time；　I？m　not　bailing　you　out。You？ll　repeat

senior　year　at　St。　Jude？s。　End　of　story。？　Nate　stared　at　him；　openmouthed。　He？d　never　really

considered　that　not　getting　his　diploma　would　mean　he？d　actually　have　torepeat　senior　year。

Maybe　take　a　year　off；　do　some　？munity　service？　building　outhouses　on　a　beach　in　Costa　Rica

or　something；　but　another　year　of　high　school？　Taking　the　same　boring　classes；　doing　the　same

boring　things；　while　his　friends　were　all　off　at　college；　having　fun　without　him？

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