‘‘Not good enough now. The first time a Quinn gets straight A’s ought to rate at least a pizza.’’ He saw Seth’s mouth open and shut, watched the staggered delight leap into his eyes before he lowered them.

‘‘Sure, that’d be cool.’’

‘‘Can you hold off another hour?’’

‘‘No problem.’’

Seth grabbed his sandpaper and began to work furiously. And blindly. His eyes were dazzled, his heart in his throat. It happened whenever one of them referred to him as a Quinn. He knew his name was DeLauter still. He had to put it at the top of every stupid paper he did for school, didn’t he? But hearing Ethan call him a Quinn made that little beam of hope that Ray had first ignited in him months before shine just a little brighter.

He was going to stay. He was going to be one of them. He was never going back into hell again.

It made it worth being called down to Moorefield’s office that day. The vice principal had reeled him in an hour before freedom. It had made his stomach jitter, as it always did. But she’d sat him down and told him she was proud of his progress.

Man, how mortifying.

Okay, so maybe he hadn’t punched anybody in the face in the last couple months. And he’d been handing in his stupid homework assignments every dumb day because somebody was always nagging him about them. Phillip was the worst nag in that particular area. It was like the guy was a homework cop or something, Seth thought now. And yeah, he’d been raising his hand in class now and then, just for the hell of it.

But to have Moorefield single him out that way had been so . . . bleech , he decided. He’d almost wished she’d hauled his butt in to give him another dose of In-School Suspension.

But if a bunch of dopey A’s made a guy like Ethan happy, it was okay.

Ethan was absolutely cool in Seth’s estimation. He worked outside all day, and his hands had scars and really thick calluses. Seth figured you could practically pound nails into Ethan’s hands without him even feeling it, they were so hard and tough. He owned two boats—that he’d built himself—and he knew everything about the Bay and sailing. And didn’t make a big deal about it.

A couple of months back Seth had watched High Noon on TV, even though it had been in lame black and white and there hadn’t even been any blood or explosions. He’d thought then that Ethan was just like that Gary Cooper guy. He didn’t say a lot, so you mostly listened when he did. And he just did what needed to be done without a lot of show.