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CHAPTER TWELVE! ( POETRUSIC. )
THAT NIGHT JOAN AND Violet were sitting in their room, Joan was just sketching while Violet reading Joan's Emily Dickinson poem anthology, copying down the ones she liked to put up on the wall above her bed.
"So, you and Meeks huh?" Joan giggled.
"He asked me out y'know? Picnic next Thursday after school, he seemed really nervous," Violet laughed.
"No way! How much do you wanna bet he's getting Pitts to help him," Jo grinned.
"Probably. They do almost everything together," Violet paused, "Y'know last weekend they took me on this roof and they set up their hi-fi system, and let me just say, they are the most ridiculous dancers," she started laughing again.
"Nerds," Joan chuckled.
"Cute nerds," Violet added. Just then Violet got up to see what Jo was drawing, Joan quickly tried to cover it up but Violet garbled the page.
"This is Charlie!" she exclaimed excitedly, "I knew Juliet was a fitting nickname."
"No! It's not a fitting nickname! Hey, give it back," Jo cried, holding her hand out for the paper.
"Charlie likes you, Meeks told me so," Violet stated, slowly handing back the paper.
"I know," Joan replied.
"You do? Thank god, I feel like I shouldn't have said that," Violet sighed in relief, sitting back down with the poem anthology and her fountain pen. "How do you know?"
"He told me a few hours ago," Joan said casually. Violet's head shot back up at this.
"And you told him you liked him back right? Oh my god, I can't believe I knew it from day one! Remember? I called it after only a couple days of knowing you. I must be a fortune teller," Violet smiled.
"Okay, fine, but I called you and Meeks too, you've gotta give me credit for that."
"So, are you guys together or what?"
"Yeah," Joan shrugged, abandoning the drawing and throwing herself onto the bed.
"Look at us, pulling all the guys," Violet giggled.
"I mean who can blame them," Joan joked, flipping her hair.
❦
The following Saturday the dead poets met yet again. Joan made her way down through the mouth of the cave and took a seat near Knox. He was looking melancholy today. The rest of the boys were laughing as they lit their pipes.
"Attaboy, Pittsie, inhale deeply," Charlie said.
"How're you doing Knox?" Joan asked, nudging him lightly as the boys continued to talk about pipes. "It's Chris isn't it?"
