of course, people found out about charlie's little ploy with the school newspaper. the next day, an entire student and staff meeting was called. celia walked with neil to the lecture hall, both anxiously awaiting a punishment for being a part of the society. she moved among the other members in the pew-like seats, taking her spot by neil.
meeks and todd looked like they wanted to throw up, but charlie only looked smug. the others ignored him purposefully, frustrated with the situation he'd put them in.
when the sound of the teachers' footsteps began to echo, all of the students stood up. "sit." nolan ordered , practically fuming. "in this week of 'welton's honor'," he said, standing behind his podium, "there appeared a profane and unauthorized article. rather than spend my valuable time ferreting out the guilty persons- -and let me assure you i will find them-- i''m asking any and all students who knows anything about this article to make themselves known here and now."
celia looked nervously to the boys next to her, who now appeared terrified. they all knew who was behind it, obviously, but no matter how frustrated they were with him, they didn't want to rat charlie out.
"whoever the guilty persons are," nolan continued, "this is your only chance to avoid expulsion from this school."
the sound of a phone ringing distracted him from saying anything else. celia watched as all of the teachers looked around for the source of the ringing, and she inwardly groaned as charlie, a few seats away from her, picked up a telephone receiver.
"welton academy." he spoke into the phone, still seated. "hello. yes, he is. just a moment." he then stood up, holding both the receiver and bell in his hands. "mr. nolan, it's for you. it's god! he says we should have more girls at welton."
the students around them laughed, but the society all shook their heads in utter disbelief. though celia thought charlie was being foolish, she was still nothing but worried for him when she took in nolan's expression.
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
after what seemed like forever of anxiously waiting in the hallway for him to return, the group all alerted as charlie stiffly walked through the dormitory hallway to his room. celia, who'd been leaning on the wall by her room, straightened, looking over at him.
"you kicked out?" neil asked.
charlie didn't look at him as he responded. "no."
"so what happened?"
"i'm to turn everybody in, apologize to the school, and all will be forgiven." he explained.
neil was still worried, not wanting the group to get in trouble. "so, what are you gonna do?" he didn't reply. "charlie!"
charlie stopped outside of his door. "damn it, neil." he said, turning around to reveal his smile. "the name is nuwanda."
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
celia was painting oils onto her canvas when someone knocked on her door. the soft patter made her assume it was neil, but she was surprised when she opened the door to see charlie with his hands in his pockets. "what do you want?" she asked, going back to sit at her desk.
needless to say, she was still hurt by his comments the night before in the cave. he had been her best friend, at least, the closest thing she had to one other than neil. and he'd disregarded her. and, for what, to impress some girls he'd just met?
"i'm sorry." he said, breaking the silence.
the girl looked over at him then; she'd never heard him say that to anyone before, even as a joke. "what?"
"i shouldn't have.." he ran a hand through his hair. "i shouldn't have said.. what i said. last night. i made it seem like you didn't matter, and i was rude to you, and to your relationship with neil. and i just.. i shouldn't have done that. because you're my friend." he looked over at her, to make sure she was listening to him. "friends shouldn't do that to each other. so, i'm sorry."
she didn't change her facial expression as she listened to him. when he was done, she cleared her throat. "thank you. for apologizing. i guess i forgive you." she added, a small smirk of a smile appearing on her face that he matched.
"thank you." he moved towards her bed as if he was going to plop on it (like normal) but then seemed to think better of it.
celia snorted a laugh as she watched him. "sore?" she asked with a raised brow, referencing to the paddling that everyone knew he'd received as a punishment. he made a face at her. "so, yes?"
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
charlie hit at his bongo drums, attempting to mimic nolan's footsteps. "creak. he started walking around towards my left." he told the boys, who were all crowded around him. "creak. creak. 'assume the position, mr. dalton.'" he stopped as the door opened.
when keating walked in, most of the boys stood from their seats. celia remained on the floor by neil, a copy of the tempest rested on her knee that he read from over her shoulder. "it's all right, gentlemen." her father said, easing the boys back into their seats.
"mr. keating." charlie smiled, his hair for once out of his face due to the sunglasses perched on his head.
"mr. dalton." he didn't seem impressed. "that was a pretty lame stunt you pulled today."
charlie's brows furrowed. "you're siding with mr. nolan? what about carpe diem, and sucking all the marrow out of life and all that?"
"sucking the marrow out of life doesn't mean choking on the bone." he responded, getting to eye level with him. "sure there's a time for daring and there's a time for caution, and a wise man understands which is called for."
the boy frowned. "but i thought you'd like that."
"no." keating shook his head. "you being expelled from school is not daring to me. it's stupid, 'cause you'll miss some golden opportunities."
"yeah. like what?"
"like, if nothing else, the opportunity to attend my classes. got it, ace?"
charlie smiled. "aye, aye, captain."
"keep your head about you. that goes for the lot of you."
"yes, captain." everyone said, nearly bursting with respect for the man.
charlie nodded his head. "besides, we already have the best girl at this school anyway." he smiled over at celia, who was still seated with neil. she looked up, smiling back.
"phone call from god." keating was laughing as he went to leave the room. "if it had been collect, it would've been daring."
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
the next day in class, keating scrawled out the word 'college' in bolded letters, filling up the entire chalkboard. "lady and gentlemen," he said, "today we will consider a skill which is indispensable for getting the most out of college-- analyzing books you haven't read."
the room all laughed at this, knowing that they'd all been guilty of this at some point or other. hager's two chapters a night had often turned into only two chapters in total that they'd read of their textbooks.
"college will probably destroy your love for poetry." keating continued. "hours of boring analysis, dissection, and criticism will see to that. college will also expose you to all manner of literature-- much of it transcendent works of magic that you must devour; some of it utter dreck that you must avoid like the plague."
"suppose you are taking a course entitled 'modern novels'." he set the scene for his story. "all semester you have been reading masterpieces such as the touching pere goriot by balzac, and the moving fathers and sons by turgenev. but, when you receive your assignment for your final paper, you discover that you are to write an essay on the theme of parental love in the doubtful debutante, a novel-- and i use that term generously here-- by none other than the professor himself."
the group chuckled as the story continued. "after reading the first three pages of the book, you realize that you would rather volunteer for combat than waste your precious earthly time infecting your mind with this sewage. but, do you despair? take an f? absolutely not. because you are prepared."
keating began to pace about the room. "open the doubtful deb and learn from the jacket that the book is about frank, a farm equipment salesman who sacrifices everything to provide his social-climbing daughter, christine, with the debut she so desperately desires. begin your essay by disclaiming the need to restate the plot while at the same time regurgitating enough of it to convince the professor that you've read the book."
"next," he continued, "shift to something pretentious and familiar. for instance, you might write, 'what is remarkable to note are the similarities between the author's dire picture of parental love and modern freudian theory. christine is electra, and her father is fallen oedipus'."
"finally, skip to the obscure and elaborate like this," he paused, then read from a paper, "'what is most remarkable is the novel's uncanny connection with hindu indian philosopher avesh rahesh non. rahesh non discussed in painful detail the discarding of parents by children for the three-headed monster of ambition, money, and social success.' go on to discuss rahesh non's theories about what feeds the monster, how to behead it, et cetera, et cetera. end by praising the professor's brilliant writing and consummate courage in introducing the doubtful deb to you."
meeks hesitantly raised his hand. "captain... what if you don't know anything about someone like rahesh non?"
"rahesh non never existed, mr meeks." keating replied. "you make him, or someone like him, up. no self-important college professor would dare admit ignorance of such an obviously important figure, and you will probably receive a comment like the one i received."
keating picked up the paper again, and the class was all amused by his admittance to fully lying his way through a final paper. "'your allusions to rahesh non were insightful and well presented. glad to see that someone besides myself appreciates this great but forgotten eastern master. a-plus.'"
he dropped the paper back onto his desk. "gentlemen, analyzing dreadful books you haven't read will be on your final exam, so i suggest you practice on your own. now for some traps of college exams. take out a blue book and a pencil, boys. this is a pop quiz."
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
"o dear me." celia read. "that i could be a sailor on the rain-pool sea, a climber in the clover-tree, and just come back, a sleepy head." she giggled. "late at night to go to bed."
neil smiled, hugging her closer to him. she was laying on her back, and his arms were wound tightly around her waist as she read to him. "i think i could listen to you read poetry forever." he admitted.
"yeah?" she asked with a raised brow. "i dare say you'd get bored of it at some point." her fingers brushed through his hair absentmindedly, which he seemed to like, since he smiled and pulled her impossibly closer.
he'd had a really good rehearsal, and was feeling on top of the world. he had everything he could ever want, right here. "here, villain, drawn and ready. where art thou?" he mumbled one of his lines to himself.
"i will be with thee straight." celia recited, still looking at her book. she'd memorized most of a midsummer night's dream within the past few weeks as she'd helped neil with his scenes.
"follow me, then, to plainer ground." he continued, a smile on his lips. "god, i love this."
"the play?" she asked, looking down at him.
neil didn't want to say the words that were playing on his tongue-- was too nervous to admit how much he loved her hands in his hair, or his face on her stomach. how much he loved her. so he nodded. "yes, and acting! it's the most unbelievable thing, celia. i mean, most people, if they're lucky, live about half of an exciting life. if i could get the parts, though, i could live dozens of ecstatic ones!"
"'to be or not to be, that is the question'," celia agreed.
"imagine if i could play hamlet!" neil said. "i've never felt so alive." he blissfully sighed.
celia folded her book closed, setting it on her desk, her attention now undivided to neil. he hummed contentedly, his face nuzzled onto her stomach. "you should probably go back to your room." she warned him, still threading through his hair. "we can't have nolan getting onto you."
he didn't respond, only cuddling her closer. "you're right. i just don't want to."
she rolled her eyes fondly, sitting up so he'd be forced to move. the boy pouted, and she mimicked his face, making them both crack smiles. "get to your room." she ordered, leaning in to kiss his lips anyway.
neil smiled into the kiss, nodding his head. "yes, ma'am." when he got up to walk to her door, he turned. "night!" he called. "love you."
the two stopped instantly, looking to each other for a second as they both took in his words.
"i'm sorry." he said. "i didn't mean to-"
"i love you, too." she said, making him stop his apology. he then smiled, walking back over to her.
"you do?" he asked, somewhat smug about it.
celia smiled, dramatically putting a hand to his cheek. "'herein i see thou lov'st me not with the full weight that i love thee. i could have taught my love to take thy father for mine; so wouldst thou, if the truth of thy love to me were so righteously temper'd as mine is to thee.'"
neil furrowed a brow, his hands rested on her waist. "what's that from? i haven't heard it."
"shakespeare." she told him. "celia."
he smiled. "i thought you didn't like her character."
"i didn't." she corrected. "but, i guess, that was before i'd ever loved anyone as much as she loved rosalind. why she'd be so loyal to someone else and go to great lengths to be with them."
he smiled. "i'm beginning to understand that, too." he agreed. "the only thing.. that makes me feel as alive as acting does.. celia, it's you. i love you." he repeated, brushing her nose with his.
"and i, you." she replied, smiling as she connected their lips once more. "okay, now get back to your room, romeo."
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
"what's for dinner?" celia asked as she caught up with the boys in the hallway the next day.
pitts grinned. "spaghetti and meatballs!"
"no hash?!" she replied, giving him a celebratory high five.
while they and everyone else swarmed down to the cafeteria, neil ascended the stairs. "save some for me!" he called to his friends.
"where are you going?" celia responded, watching as he headed back to his room.
"putting my script up!" he called back before getting lost in the crowd. he was absolutely giddy, smiling ear to ear as he thought about how well his rehearsal had gone. "'but, room, fairy! here comes oberon.'" he was quoting his line as he opened the door to his room. all emotion faded from his face as he noticed the man sitting at his desk. "father."
"neil."
he frowned, knowing that this was likely about him faking his father's approval on the play. "wait a minute. before you say anything, please let me ex-"
"don't you dare talk back to me!" he yelled, getting up from the desk. "it's bad enough that you've wasted your time with this, this absurd acting business. but you deliberately deceived me! how, how... how did you expect to get away with this? answer me. who put you up to it? was it this new man? this, uh, mr. keating? and his daughter?"
neil shook his head. "no. nobody- i thought i'd surprise you." he lied. "i've gotten all a's in every class."
"did you think i wasn't going to find out?" his father countered. "'oh, my niece is in a play with your son,' says mrs. marks. 'no, no, no,' i say, 'you must be mistaken. my son's not in a play.' you made me a liar of me, neil!" he practically shouted. "now, tomorrow you go to them and you tell them that you're quitting."
"no, i can't." neil pleaded. "i have the main part. the performance is tomorrow night."
"i don't care if the world comes to an end tomorrow night. you are through with that play. is that clear? is that clear?"
neil's jaw locked. "yes, sir."
his father turned as if to leave before pausing. "i made a great many sacrifices to get you here, neil, and you will not let me down."
"no, sir."
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
the society pledges, meanwhile, were sitting in the dining hall enjoying their spaghetti. they were all having difficulty with their forks, which didn't go unnoticed by hager, who approached them. "mr dalton, what is wrong, son?" he asked, eyeing charlie suspiciously. "are you having trouble with your meal?"
"no, sir." charlie replied, continuing to struggle with the noodles.
hager continued to watch the boys and celia, who he noticed were all holding their forks in the wrong hands. "mister meeks and overstreet and anderson, and miss keating, are you normally left-handed?" he asked after a moment of observation.
"no, sir." they all replied.
"then why are you eating with your left hands?"
the group all looked amongst each other. knox cleared his throat before speaking for them. "we thought it would be good to break old habits, sir." he explained.
hager's brows furrowed, not understanding his point. "what is wrong with old habits, mr overstreet?"
"get perpetuate mechanical living, sir." knox said. "they limit your mind."
"mr overstreet, i suggest you worry less about breaking old habits and more about developing good study habits. do you understand?" hager's voice was firm.
"yes, sir."
"that goes for all of you." he added, looking at the table. "now eat with your correct hands."
they obeyed, switching their forks into their right hands. but, once hager had turned his back, charlie switched hands again. one by one, the others all put their forks back into their left hands.
neil then came into the dining hall, approaching his table of friends (and girlfriend!). his shoulders were uncharacteristically hunched, his face solemn in thought.
"are you okay?" celia asked when he sat down, gently nudging his shoulder with her own.
he shook his head. "visit from my father."
she frowned. "is he going to make you quit the play?"
"i don't know." neil sighed.
celia thought for a moment. "maybe you should talk to my dad about it."
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
"it's open." keating said at the knocking on his door. he looked up, surprised to see neil. "neil, what's up?" he asked.
the boy seemed nervous. "can i speak to you a minute?"
he nodded. "certainly. sit down." he then smiled. "as long as you're not asking for celia's hand in marriage already, that would be a bit too much too soon." he joked, making him smile back.
neil had to remove the pile of books currently piled onto the chair, but eventually sat down.
"could i get you some tea?" keating asked.
he nodded. "tea. sure."
"like some milk or sugar in that?" he asked as he poured the tea into cups.
"no, thanks." he looked around the cramped office. "gosh, they don't give you much room around here."
he smiled. "no, it's part of the monastic oath. they don't want worldly things distracting me from my teaching." he handed him the cup of tea before they both returned to their previous seats.
neil examined a photo on his desk, pointing to it. "she's pretty."
"she's also in london." his teacher responded. "makes it a little difficult."
he frowned. "celia never mentioned that."
"she doesn't often like.. to talk about the things that are hard on her." he admitted. "she misses her." he frowned before looking to neil. "but, being with you has made a huge difference. she seems so.. so happy."
he smiled. "i am, too." he looked back to the photo. "how can you stand it?"
"stand what?"
"you can go anywhere." neil explained. "you can do anything. how can you stand being here?"
"'cause i love teaching. i don't wanna be anywhere else." he then remembered that neil had asked to talk about something. "what's up?"
neil took a sip of the tea. "i just talked to my father. he's making me quit the play at henley hall. acting's everything to me. i- but he doesn't know. he.." he trailed off. "i can see his point. we're not a rich family like charlie's, and we.. but he's planning the rest of my life for me, and i- h-he's never asked me what i want."
keating frowned. "have you ever told your father what you just told me? about your passion for acting. you ever show him that?"
"i can't."
"why not?"
"i can't talk to him this way. not like i can with you and celia."
"then you're acting for him, too." the man said. "you're playing the part of the dutiful son. i know this sounds impossible, but you have to talk to him. you have to show him who you are, what your heart is."
neil shook his head. "i know what he'll say. he'll tell me that acting's a whim, and i should forget it. that how they're counting on me. he'll just tell me to put it out of my mind, 'for my own good.'"
keating was understanding as he thought for a moment before speaking. "you are not an indentured servant. if it's not a whim for you, you prove it to him by your conviction and your passion. you show him that, and if he still doesn't believe you, well, by then you'll be out of school and you can do anything you want."
neil wiped away a tear that fell from his eye. "no. what about the play? the show's tomorrow night."
"well, you have to talk to him before tomorrow night."
"isn't there an easier way?"
"no."
neil laughed through his tears. "i'm trapped."
"no, you're not." his teacher responded firmly.