"could you please not?" celia asked, turning in her seat to look at charlie, who had his feet propped on the top of his desk. the act wouldn't have minded the girl, if not for him using the vantage point to tap his feet on the back of her head.

the boy laughed. "sorry, i would 'not', my dear cel-lion, if not for the fact that it is so fun to see you get so angry about it."

she groaned, turning back around in her seat. she didn't miss neil's eyes on the interaction, and his chuckle and smile at her dramatic reaction.

the entire day had been slightly different than normal since her chat with neil on the rooftop. the two had seemingly connected over something other than poetry, which had before been their main similarity. celia felt that she had peeled back a layer to this seemingly happy-go-lucky boy, and that she was finally uncovering a level of trust with him.

"a man is not very tired," her father was saying in the front of the room when she started paying attention again, "he is exhausted. and don't use very sad, use-" he pointed to the back of the room. "come on, mr. overstreet, you twerp."

"morose?" knox said, clearly unsure of his answer.

"exactly!" the teacher praised. "morose. now, language was developed for one endeavor, and that is? mr. anderson? come on! are you a man or an amoeba?" todd looked up nervously, but didn't respond. "mr. perry?" keating offered, turning to the other side of the room.

neil looked up. "uh, to communicate." he guessed.

"no!" keating replied. "to woo women." celia rolled her eyes as she heard charlie laughing behind her. "today we're going to be talking about william shakespeare." the collective groan didn't seem to surprise her father. "i know. a lot of you looked forward to this about as much as you look forward to root canal work. we're gonna talk about shakespeare as someone who writes something very interesting. now, many of you have seen shakespeare done very much like this: 'o titus, bring your friend hither.'" he spoke dramatically, holding his arm out. "but if any of you have seen mr. marlon brando, you know, shakespeare can be different." he prepared for another impression. "'friend, romans, countrymen, lend me your ears.' you can also imagine, maybe, john wayne as macbeth going, 'well, is this a dagger i see before me?'"

the students all were dying of laughter, and neil turned in his chair to look at celia. "does he always do impressions like this?" he asked.

she laughed, nodding her head. "you should hear him read children's books; i'm still haunted by the memory of his animal noises."

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

after a class of reading and impressions, keating jumped onto his desk. "why do i stand up here?" he asked. "anybody?"

"to feel taller." charlie replied.

"no!" keating rang the bell on his desk with his food before continuing. "thank you for playing, mr. dalton. i stand upon my desk to remind yourself that we must constantly look at things in a different way." he glanced around the room. "you see, the world looks very different from up here. you don't believe me? come see for yourself. come on. come on!"

charlie and neil were the first up from their seats, and celia followed them to the front of the classroom as they climbed onto the desk. celia took neil's hand to help herself up, taking a look around the room before hopping down.

"just when you think you know something, you have to look at it in another way. even though it may seem silly or wrong, you must try! now, when you read, don't just consider what the author thinks. consider what you think." keating told them. "boys, you must strive to find your own voice. because the longer you wait to begin, the less likely you are to find it at all. thoreau said, 'most men lead lives of quiet desperation.' don't be resigned to that. break out!"

the bell rang as the boys continued to climb the desk, looking around more fervently as keating scolded them for not doing so.

"dare to strike out and find new ground." he encouraged them. "now, in addition to your essays, i would like you to compose a poem of your own, an original work." keating began to flicker the lights on and off as he heard the students groaning. "that's right!" he spoke ominously. "you have to deliver it aloud in front of the class on monday. bonne chance, lady and gentlemen."

the teacher stepped into the hall before pausing for a brief glance back in, seeing todd standing on the desk. "mr. anderson?" he called. "don't think that i don't know that this assignment scares the hell out of you, you mole."

some of the boys began to chuckle, but celia waited for todd to finish collecting his belongings before joining him and the rest of her friends on the way to lunch.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

celia was wrapping up her dreaded stack of latin homework when a knocking sounded on her door. she found herself hoping it wasn't charlie, who, although she loved and cared for, always annoyed her with random fun facts throughout the day.

she was pleasantly surprised when she opened the door to reveal neil. "hey, what's-" before she could finish her sentence, he put a piece of paper in her hand. as celia read through it, she began to smile. "a midsummer night's dream? you're into shakespeare?"

"no, read it!" he pressed, giggling slightly as he leaned on her door frame.

her eyes scanned the paper, and she understood what he meant when she noticed the 'open tryouts' invitation marked at the bottom of the page. "oh, so you're going to be in shakespeare." she concluded, handing the paper back to him. "since when are you into acting?"

"since now!" he cheered, entering her room and plopping onto her bed. "i've always wanted to do it, but i've always been to afraid of what my father would say. but, you know, i'm gonna do it! i'm gonna be an actor!" he dramatically fell back on the bed, wrapping her blanket around his body.

celia chuckled, sitting down next to him. "you'll have to tell me when it is, i'll be there."

"yeah?" he asked, sitting back upright. "i have to get the part first, but i'll let you know first thing. which reminds me, i gotta go tell todd! you should come with!"

the girl smiled at his overly happy state. "okay, i'll be right there, let me finish this page." she said, going back to her latin work. as soon as she'd finished the last sentence of her translation, she got up from her chair, walking across the hall to neil and todd's room.

when she walked in, neil was grabbing a book from todd's hands, much to the other boy's protest. "'we are dreaming of a–' poetry!" neil cheered, looking over to celia. "todd wrote poetry!" he cheered, running in circles through the room as the other boy chased after him in an attempt to get the book back. "i'm being chased by walt whitman! okay, okay."

"what are you guys doing?" cameron asked, walking next to celia in the doorway. "i'm sure- you see this chemistry-" he held up his chemistry textbook, which neil promptly took from his hands, resulting in all three boys racing around the room, jumping on top of the beds and desks. "hey, give me- neil, give me- don't be immature. come on. i need my-"

neil then tossed it to celia, who was across the room from cameron. now in on the chase, celia began to sprint around the room as well, laughing as she attempted to remain balanced on the dresser despite her much-too-large pants.

"give it to me! give it to me! " charlie cheered upon entering the room. celia tossed the book to neil, who was closest to him, and then the book was in charlie's arms, making him a part of the goose chase as well.

"let me have my book," cameron complained, "i need my-"

at some point, neil had picked up a recorder and had begun playing a miscellaneous string of erratic notes on it as charlie pounded a set of bongo drums. the boys were so insanely chaotic, but celia would be lying if she said she wasn't going to be forever grateful for them.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

that night at the dead poets meeting, everything seemed to have changed. the group had been gathering for their secret hangout for nearly three months at this point, and had now fallen into a steady rhythm of reading their poetry and prose.

celia sat in the middle of the cave, holding the 'five centuries of english verse' book to her chest as she settled on the poem she wanted to read. she settled on a piece by emerson, brushing a piece of unruly hair out of her face before she began.

"long i followed happy guides, i could never reach their sides ; their step is forth, and, ere the day, breaks up their leaguer, and away. flowers they strew, — i catch the scent ; or tone of silver instrument. leaves on the wind melodious trace ; yet i could never see their face. i met many travelers, who the road had surely kept ; they saw not my fine revelers, — these had crossed them while they slept. sometimes their strong speed they slacken. though they are not overtaken ; in sleep their jubilant troop is near, — i tuneful voices overhear ; it may be in wood or waste, — at unawares 'tis come and past. their near camp my spirit knows by signs gracious as rainbows. i thenceforward, and long after, listen for their harp-like laughter. and carry in my heart, for days, peace that hallows rudest ways."

the boys all clapped and cheered as she silently bowed for them, laughing at their over-enthusiasm. "okay, who's next?" she asked, holding out the book to the group. knox took it from her hands, then moving to take her place in the center of the cave.

celia, now that the spotlight was off of her, moved to take her normal seat between neil and charlie. as she sat down on the log, she let out a slight shiver. "are you cold?" neil asked, looking down at her.

the girl shook her head. "no, i'm good." she assured him.

as the night went on, she began to get tired from the number of poems that had been read. they were staying out even later than they normally did, and she felt herself yawning. "no offense, meeks, just tired." she'd explained to him when he paused his reading.

"oh celia, my celia." charlie joked with a smug smile on his face, putting his arm over her shoulders dramatically. "is it past your bedtime?"

she looked up at him, rolling her eyes. "you're the worst, dalton." she joked, but didn't make any effort to move him. she was colder than she'd thought she was, and the minimal contact was warming her up.

but, when celia looked over to the seat next to her, she noticed a pained look in neil's eye before he looked away. the rest of the room seemed to know something she didn't, so she cleared her throat and stood up. "'scuse me, boys, i'm gonna go get some air." she explained before climbing out of the cave, not answering any of their offers to help her up.

as the girl stepped outside, she was immediately hit by the colder air. instinctively, she wound her arms tightly around her body, a lame attempt at fighting off the chill.

what was wrong with her? what didn't she see? the girl who was normally deemed so smart by her peers hadn't ever felt more idiotic. biting the inside of her cheek, she tilted her head up, blessed by the comfort of the stars shining above her. she wondered if, if she screamed out her questions to the sky, the answers would come to her.

but, when she looked at the twists and patterns of the different stars in the night sky, she was suddenly reminded of her night stargazing with neil. celia's brows furrowed as she focused on those moments, looking out at the sky. then, almost as sudden as a fall, she realized.

she didn't know why she hadn't known before. it now seemed all too obvious to her. she was falling for him. not only was he her best friend, but she felt stronger for him than she ever had about anyone before. all of their conversations, the way he smiled, the way he laughed. she was falling in love with neil perry.