"I guess he'll be a member now."
"What are you talking about, Todd?"
The five of us are sitting in a booth at a diner we'd found. Coincidentally, something we'd all noticed but just smiled to oursleves silently about, the owner's name was Cornelius.
"Mr. Keating, Dead Poets Society. We were all just pledges, remember? Up until Neil," I lower my head, the weight of our reality sinking deep into my chest. I'd never thought about it back then.
"I guess Neil will have some company now, huh?" Pitts suggests.
"Yeah, somebody else to talk their ear off." Knox says.
"He never did shut up, did he?" Charlie shoots. We all laugh, but collectively, we're all aware of what else we're feeling.
"I miss him sometimes." Meeks says.
"Yeah, especially now." Pitts chimes in.
We all nod in agreement. Neil meant a great deal to all of us. He was one of those people that made big impacts on people's lives, no matter how big of a role he had in it. I'd only known him for half of the school year, but it felt like I'd known him my entire life.
"It's kinda weird," Knox says, "but do you ever come across something, that you just know Neil would have loved."
"Totally," Charlie chimes, "The other day I was driving and Live and Let Die by McCartney came on the radio, and all I could think about was how much Neil would have dug that song."
"And how much his father would have hated it." Meeks rolls in. We all laugh, pretty hard for the day we've had, but it lulls to a hush almost as soon as it started, as we all recall Neil's relationship with his father.
On our way back to Charlie's place, there's a heavy gloom between the driver's and passenger's seat. Although we are both devastated by the loss of dear Mr. Keating, there exists another shared loss between us, one that we have yet to discuss since it happened. Meeting up with the other poets at the diner was only the tip of the iceberg. I can tell that Charlie's eyes are wet, and he's fighting hard. I myself haven't let go of the tight grip I have on both of my knees. The topic of Neil was always difficult for him and I to talk about, and so we never really talked about it much. Eventually, we just never really talked. I was never super close with Charlie, not like Neil, but Neil's passing gave us something in common, even if it didn't bring us together, we felt the same things.
Charlie suddenly pulls off on the side of the road, unbuckles, walks around to my side of the car, opens the door and says, "Get out." I do, and I shut the car door behind me, a little harder than I meant to. I lean back against the car, and stretch my neck to the left, looking at the long streak of highway, no other cars in sight.
"I miss him." He says, finally breaking the silence. "More than I'd like to admit." And even though today was Keating's funeral, I know who he really means. "But I know you miss him more." I look up, and he has a deep sadness in his eyes. "I know how much he meant to you Todd. How much more he meant to you, than to me." At this point, I can't even look him in the eye. I know he knows, but I don't want to accept that he does. He comes towards me and wraps his arms around my shoulders, in a one person hug. "You meant that much to him too, Todd. I hope you know that." he sniffles, and I feel his tears on my shoulders. "You meant the world to him." I now wrap my arms around him, and complete the hug. He's crying, I'm crying, and we're standing on the side of this dusty highway, no other cars in sight, crying on the day of someone's funeral, about someone whose funeral was over a decade ago.
"I've missed him so much Charlie," I sob into his chest.
"Me too, Toddy, me too." And that's how we stood on that dusty afternoon in August, both of us finding the comfort we've been lacking for too long of a time, in the person we'd least expected to find it in. The time lost since Neil's death had always made Neil himself feel farther and farther away with each passing year, but in this moment, hugging someone who loved Neil as I had, I've never felt closer to him.