landslide, neil perry

four.

"okay, follow the stream to the waterfall." neil was explaining as he pointed to the maps to the cave. "it's right there. it's got to be on the banks."

cameron shook his head. "i don't know, it's starting to sound dangerous."

charlie, ever the gentleman, looked down at him "well, why don't you stay home?" he suggested.

"for god's sake stop chattering and sit down." mcallister scolded the group, who were clearly not completing the translations that he'd assigned.

"todd, are you coming tonight?" celia asked, sitting with him and neil.

the boy shook his head. "no."

neil seemed offended by this. "why not? god, you were there. you heard keating. don't you want to do something about it?"

todd frowned. "yes, but-"

"but? but what?"

"keating said that everybody took turns reading, and i don't want to do that."

celia understood immediately that todd was shy, and she got it. "okay, what if you didn't have to? what if you just.. you just came and listened?"

he shook his head. "that's not how it works."

"who says?" the girl questioned. "who says how it works? forget how it works."

neil nodded his agreement. "what if they said it was okay?"

todd sent him a confused look. "what? what are you gonna do, go up and ask them?"

neil shrugged, getting up from his seat. "we'll be right back." he said, taking celia with him (despite todd's protests) to the table where all the other boys were seated.

"ceil and neil." charlie greeted, looking up from whatever assignment he was supposed to be focused on. "what's the honor? anderson over there being too weird?"

"charlie." she scolded, kicking his foot from under the table. "we were actually asking him if he was coming to the cave tonight, but he said he doesn't want to read."

"so?"

"so," neil said, "we were thinking.. what if he came and listened, and didn't read? there's nothing saying he can't just listen to the poetry if he doesn't want to write anything."

charlie shrugged his shoulders. "yeah, i guess."

everyone else nodded, not seeing a problem with it. "okay. cool." neil said, smiling as he went over to tell todd that he was "in".

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

that night, celia put on a sweater of her own (not the nylon filth that the school had given her for a uniform) and comfortable jeans, thankful to be rid of her ghastly skirt for once. she was practically counting down the minutes until she would have to meet up with the guys to head off to the cave.

soon enough, a small knock (much kinder than the aggressive wrapping charlie gave it every morning) sounded on her door. she stood up, opening it to find neil, holding a flashlight in one hand and a copy of thoreau in the other. "you ready?" he whispered as she nodded.

celia followed him to where the other boys were standing, each holding their own flashlights. todd passed one to the girl, who thanked him with a smile. after charlie had finished distracting the dog, the group set off running towards the woods. their cloaks made them look almost horrific, but they shielded them from the cold night air.

eventually, they were left to search the trees in an attempt to find the cave, which neil swore was nearby. the calm silence was interrupted when charlie leapt up from behind meeks, shining a flashlight in his own face and saying "arrr, i'm a dead poet."