Long time no update, huh? Please read and review! I missed you all so much! And thanks to my two lovely reviewers! You two are amazing and inspired me to write all of this! Enjoy!
And soon thereafter, Neil found himself at the door of the diner. Not even sure why, the second she disappeared, he dropped the gun in his father's keep and sprung to get dressed. But, as he stood in the pool of light pouring from the diner window onto the snowy street, indecision struck him. He could still leave, he figured, and her not notice.
Perhaps she was the ghost of the Dead Poets past way of stopping him from killing himself. Perhaps he wasn't meant to pursue her. But just as he set his mind to return home and resign himself to a life of boot cleaning and strict orders, he caught sight of the girl in the window. She sat there, cup of coffee in one hand and book of Emily Dickenson poetry in the other. His fate was sealed there. He was a goner. Straightening up a bit and gulping down his fear, Neil strode into the diner with as much confidence as he could muster.
"Because I could not stop for death, He kindly stopped for me," he pensively said, nearly laughing at the irony in her choice of poets.
The girl looked up from her book, her face lighting up.
"Glad to see you looking so alive," she commented, playing off of his reference to death in Dickenson's literature and he recent predicament.
Neil slid across from her, sitting at her table situated just beneath one particularly dirty window. Silently, a yellow-uniformed waitress bustled over and poured him a steaming cup of bitter-tasting coffee. He wanted to thank the small woman, but instead found himself staring at the girl seated across from him.
"Do you want to talk about it now?" the girl asked, catching his gaze.
Knowing of which "it" she spoke, he shook his head and looked down. Neil changed the subject.
"What's your name?" he asked, his eyes becoming particularly interested in the cheap laminate of the tabletop.
She shook her head at herself, as if mentally scolding her own manners, and extended her hand to him.
"Annie. Annie Lloyd," she said, her bright tone bringing with it an infectious kind of joy.
Neil smiled to himself. The name suited her. More though, he simply liked it.
"That's a good name," he commented, then mentally grimaced at how stupid it made him seem.
With a small nod, she smiled.
"Yeah. I've always thought it was solid. Hey, Mac!" She shouted, turning over her shoulder and looking up at the counter.
A stout cook appeared, materializing from the kitchen and standing behind the glistening bar.
"What d'ya want, Annie?"
Annie smiled and pointed to her new friend.
"I need two pieces of that pie. The good chocolate one, not that crappy raspberry and blackberry one you tried to give me last week. One for me and one for my friend here-"
She snapped and stumbled over her words, searching in her mind for his name, which she could not find.
"Neil Perry," he supplied.
The girl's smile stretched and she slapped the table.
"Yes! That's the one! Two slices of pie! One for me and one for Mr. Neil Perry!"
Mac nodded and set about serving them up on freshly chipped plates. Annie turned back to the young man across from her.
"So, Neil, you're a Dickenson fan?"
He shrugged and picked up her book.
"Not really a fan. I just admire anyone who could write so beautifully about death and single shafts of light," he commented.
Annie nodded approvingly, glad to know that the Shakespeare scene stealer
"Let me guess," she began, taking the Dickenson book back from him and waving it in his direction as though feeling his aura, "You are a-"
She thought for a long moment, closing her eyes.
"A Poe fan?"
That hung in the air for only a second before she shook her head.
"No, no."
She paused for a brief moment.
"You're a Whitman fan," She finished decisively.
Neil tried to keep his jaw from dropping as he exclaimed,
"How did you know?"
Annie shrugged and smiled at him as she replaced the book in her hand for a cup of steaming coffee. She took a long sip, looking at him over the brim of the chipping cream mug.
"You just look like a Whitman fan. So intelligent and-"
Again, she searched for a word, trying to find the right adjective hiding in the dark recesses of her mind.
"Overflowing," She said with a tone of finality, nodding her head once in a dismissive manner.
But Neil felt the topic far from dismissal. He furrowed his brow at her. The yellow crème puff of a waitress appeared once more, setting down their pie. Both Neil and Annie thanked her in unison. Finally, taking an adventurous bite, Neil let his confusion get the best of him.
"What do you mean by that?"
Annie shoved a bit of the chocolate, whipped-cream confection in her mouth and savored it. She appreciatively sighed, but then answered.
"I see so much behind those eyes of yours. You're life and death all in the same look. Did you know that?"
This did little to clear up his confusion, so he furiously shook his head.
"I didn't."
He began to eat the pie himself, surprised by how much he enjoyed it.
"Well, it's true. You have so much inside you, Neil. It's intriguing."
His heart sped at the words. Perhaps it was his weakened state after the incident with his father's gun, but something about this girl just entranced him.
"So, Neil, what is all this about your father?" Annie asked, suddenly allowing herself to turn serious.
She quickly shoved a bite of chocolate whip into her mouth, shutting herself up effectively, giving him the floor to talk. After a long moment and several failed attempts to muster the courage to begin, Neil finally spoke.
"He wants me to go to Harvard."
Annie's eyes grew to the size of dinner plates. She knew he went to that pretentious all-boys' school, but she had no idea that the talented actor had aspirations for the Ivy-Leagues. Neil saw her shock, but chose to ignore it, getting wrapped up in his own fears and doubts to answer to it.
"And, he didn't exactly think that the Henley Play was a good use of my time. Especially since I didn't exactly ask for his permission."
Neil rubbed the back of his neck nervously and looked down.
"So, I'm packing for military school and leaving tomorrow. Leaving everything at school behind-"
Annie cut him off.
"Your father thinks you will get into Harvard after going to military school?"
Moments passed as Neil considered it.
"I guess so," he offered.
Gulping down the rest of her coffee, Annie scooped up her Dickenson book. Leaping from her spot at the booth, she shouted out.
"Put it all on my tab, Mac."
He murmured something about years of debt on that tab, but Neil ignored it as she swooped down and planted a cautious kiss on his cool cheek.
"Don't worry about this, Neil."
He spun around as she dashed out toward the door.
"What do you think you are doing to do?" He asked, nearly begging.
She paused for a brief moment at the door and smiled at him.
"I know a guy."
Eeep! What is she going to do? Review and give me all of your feedback!