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?