𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐨𝐧

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚢-𝚘𝚗𝚎

It felt like years since that day, though it had only been about a month. Nolan did end up contacting my school, but I was only given one week detention. After all, the events took place at Welton—not here. The worst part was that I hadn't seen Charlie since.

I've seen the other boys around, mostly coming to the high school after Welton classes were done to drop by and say hi. It was only every now and then. I heard the news that Keating did, in fact, fry.

Carla caught up with me in school, speaking on her relationship with Pitts. I supposed Pittsie took the plunge after all. Maybe the realization that death was a real possibility for everyone woke him up a bit. I didn't mind her talking about Pitts, but I grew envious. I missed Charlie. She questioned me whatever happened to him. "He punched Cameron. Got expelled." I said, trying to sound unbothered.

"Oh." That was all Carla said. Then, she would go on about her and Pitts. It hurt a bit. It sort of felt like a dagger ever so slightly poking my chest. Eventually, it would hit my heart, and I would die. Maybe I was dying already. Maybe dying was living with regrets... constantly reminding yourself that you could die. That is was enviable. Dying was focusing on the end so much that you forgot there was a before.

I never expected there to be mail addressed to me, but when I got home, my father handed it over. I read the name Dalton with a return address written in blue ink. I never expected Charlie to contact me ever again.

Y/n,

I found your folks' address in the phone book. I promise I'm not stalking you.

I'm attending a different, yet very similar, prep school for boys. It sucks, but my roommate beats Cameron by far. (Still sorry you had to see me punch him) (actually, no, I'm not. That was a hot thing for me to do. I know you're impressed.) My parents wanted to give me to the great heroes of america—the military. I made an offer with them because I have no interest in being yelled at by some sweaty men. I bet you would like it, though.

There are only a bunch of Nolan copycats here! It's insane! No one even wants to cause mayhem like I do. I'm going crazy. I miss the old group. We should get back together in the summer. Maybe that's asking for too much, though.

Write back to me. Please! I need to hear your voice. Well, read your voice, I should say. Yeah. Ew, I sound desperate. Whatever. Write back to me, doll.

- Charlie Dalton.

He was teasing me in a letter? Weirdo. At least that was my Charlie, I knew. I giggled as I read it and saw my dad eyeing me. He definitely knew it was from Charlie. Even if he couldn't tell by the name Dalton written on it, he would see the return address of an all boys school.

"Why won't he leave you alone?" My dad asked, seemingly more tired of Charlie than anything else.

"He's my friend, that's why." I responded with a slight glare. My dad scoffed, knowing that a boy writing a letter to a girl didn't mean 'just friends'.

I wrote back to him, but as time went on, he never responded. I had wondered what had happened. Did he move on? Did he not care about me anymore? Did he want to cut ties with everything that reminded him of the dead poets society? Did he get expelled... again?

It was hard to swallow the pill that I thought I had lost my best friend and my first actual crush. Yeah, I admit it. I did like him. I should've listened to Keating, Carpe Diem. I should've just gone for it the way Knox did with Chris, even though he ended up getting beat up. I wished I had another chance to.

School was dull without the club. It was the thing I looked forward to every Friday. I missed Neil. I never stopped thinking about him and his stupid father. Todd was right. His father did kill him even if he didn't actually shoot the kid. He was the gun, and his threats were the bullets. Neil felt caged.

"Y/n?" Carla nudged me in class, trying to get my attention. "Y/n, what's up?"

"Sorry.." I sat up straighter, trying to listen to my English teach. God, everything reminded me of what had happened. I was starting to think Dalton wanted to cut all ties with the past. It was painful. I was starting to feel that way as well.

Summer was getting closer, and I remembered that Dalton wrote he wanted to meet up in the summer. I didn't think that was going to happen due to the fact he never wrote me any more letters. Meeks and Pitts already applied to college and got into Yale. Meanwhile, I applied everywhere and didn't get accepted anywhere. It was hard. I was a girl in 1960, after all.

It felt like salt in the wound when boys would show up to school and brag about where they were going. Even the dumbest ones with the worse gpa's got in somewhere. Carla applied to a few but stopped when he parents found out. They were extremely traditionally and wanted her to be a good housewife. It was sickening.  I was lucky my parents were all for college.

When I got home, my dad handed me a pile of letters. "One of them is bound to say yes, sweetheart." My father said, trying to cheer me up. "Maybe you got into Yale like Steven Meeks." That was the only Welton boy they liked, and it was just because they knew him when he was younger.

"Imagine. That would be amazing." I smiled, thinking about that thought. I started to open letters, all of them rejection. I was nearing the end of the pile when I saw Yale. I was nearly praying it was an acceptance. I honestly was expecting to be rejected. It was a prestigious school, after all. Then again, I did very well on my work, and they could see that reflected in my grades.

I opened the letter and read it. "What the hell?" I didn't think I read it right. "What the actual fuck?" I got into Yale?! I had to tell Meeks and Pitts.