Annabeth sat on her bed her notebook in hand again. She opend it to a clean page and pulled out a pen.
Never in my life have I felt the way I do for Charlie Dalton. I'm not sure what it is I feel for him. But I know it's a new feeling. One I am yet to understand.
She shut her book quickly realising she just worte about Charlie in her diary. What on earth was happening to her. Annabeth has decided to miss the Dead Poets meeting today as she was still quite embarrassed by what happened in Keatings class.
When suddenly Knox and the other boys came bursting into Annabeths room. Knox looked ill and the other boys were laughing.
"Beth! Will you please come to Chet Danburrys house with me on Friday so that I can make Chris jealous and make her swoon!" Knox yelled very loudly at Annabeth speaking very fast as he did so.
"What?" Annabeth had no clue in the world what knox has just said to her.
"He wants to know if you'll go with him to a party on Friday to make Chris jealous" Meeks explained much slower and clearer.
"Oh I see, I mean I'm not sure Knox is that-" Annabeth put her notebook under her pillow.
"Please Beth" Knox dropped to his knees next to Annabeths bed and clasped his hands together. Annabeth looked at the rest of the boys who where all smirking.
"Okay Knox" Annabeth sighed.
"Thank you Beth a million times thank you!" Knox jumped up and ran out of the room cheering as he ran away.
"He's losing his mind" Charlie chuckled
"He's madly inlove" Pitts laughed also
"No grades at stake, gentlemen. Just take a stroll." The whole class was gathered in the courtyard of the school, with a few of the boys lined up opposite everyone else.
Annabeth stood next to Charlie her arms folded. Charlie's hands were in his pocket lazily as he rested on one of the pillars. After a few moments, the three boys begin to march to the same beat.
"There it is" Mr Keating exclaimed.
The other boys start clapping to the rhythm of their steps.
"I don't know, but I've been told--" keating chanted
"I don't know, but I've been told--" the class repeats.
"Doing poetry is old--"
"Doing poetry is old--"
Mr. Nolan looks out at them from his office as Keating joins the boys and begins marching with them.
"Left, left, left-right-left. Left, left, left-right-left. Left, halt!" The boys stop marching on command.
"Thank you, gentlemen. If you noticed, everyone started off with their own stride, their own pace." Keating begins to walk very slowly.
"Mr. Pitts, taking his time. He knew he'll
get there one day. Mr. Cameron, you could
see him thinking, Is this right? It might be right. It might be right. I know that. Maybe not. I don't know." Keating begins walking with his groin pushed forward.
