where all the poets went to die [dead poets society]

14 - we're going steady now, doll

"At these boys' ages?" Nolan actually laughed aloud at that. "Not on your life!" He shook his head, squaring Keating with a firm look. "Tradition, John. Discipline. Prepare them for college, and the rest will take care of itself."

••●••

Charlie made his way to Maria's room, feeling a sense of dread gnawing at his insides. He hadn't seen her at dinner despite the fact that Knox swore Keating had told him that Maria would be present for dinner. The thought that perhaps she wasn't feeling well, or that maybe she didn't want to see him only added to his growing guilt.

He knew he had messed up, and he knew that Maria had every right to be angry with him and that he might probably be the last thing she wanted to see.

He stopped in front of her door, hesitating, unsure of what to do.

"Come on, Charlie," he mumbled to himself. "Be a man."

He took a deep breath and knocked, hoping that she would let him in.

He heard rustling. "It's open, come in," Maria's voice called out and Charlie pushed open the door, stepping inside her room.

Maria was sitting on her bed, her nose buried in a book and when she looked up to see him, surprise flickered across her face. "Oh, Charlie," she said, straightening and quickly throwing her comforter over her bare legs.

Charlie gulped, his brain having already memorized the brief picture of Maria's long, bare legs peeking out from under her silk nightgown. A flush crept up his neck and he coughed slightly. Lord, he was here to apologize to her and he was already making up fantasies in his head about her.

"I, uh, sorry to bother you," he said, suddenly feeling like an intruder in her space. "I just wanted to see how you were doing."

Maria's cheeks were a pretty pink and she closed her book, placing it on her bedside table. "I'm fine, thank you," she said, a hint of weariness in her voice. "I thought you were Uncle John, that's why I told you to come in..."

Charlie nodded. "I gathered," he said, feeling the awkward tension between them. He wasn't sure what to say, how to make things right, the apology that he had practiced in front of the mirror suddenly evaporating from his thoughts.

"You can-You can sit," Maria said, pointing to her desk chair and then winced when Charlie made a pained expression. "Oh... I'm sorry. I-I, uh, how are you doing?"

Charlie smiled weakly and shrugged. "I'll be fine," he said. "I'm big and strong, you know."

Maria laughed lightly at that.

But then Charlie looked to her, his eyes catching sight of her left hand and his anger flared. Knox had told him about Nolan hitting Maria, about the angry red stripes that lined her palm when Knox had gone to get her and how Maria had cried. Charlie's blood boiled. How dare he lay a land on her? How could anyone be so cruel to his precious Maria?

Charlie took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He didn't want to scare Maria or make her feel any more uncomfortable than she already probably did, but he couldn't help feeling protective of her.

"I can't believe he actually hit you," Charlie said. "I know that Nolan can be a bastard, but that's beyond bastard...that's-that's-"

"It's fine," Maria said. "I'm fine. It doesn't hurt that much anymore."

But that means it did hurt before, Charlie wanted to say, but he held his tongue.

"Why'd you do it?" Charlie asked. "Why'd you say it was your idea? You knew it was mine."