Me: Chapter Sixteen! That's how old my characters are! But they do have birthdays you know. Sound 'em off guys! Charlie: April 21st! Sabrina: October 19th! Anderson: December 17th! Rob: June 14th! Danny: November 2nd! Geoff: July 10th! Sean: September 4th! Me: April 30th! So there we are, everyone has a birthday because I'm out there and there will be celebrations for them! Yay! Charlie: Another party? We're still recuperating from the last one. Anderson: Hangover… Everyone: Your fault! Me: I told you that before stupid. Anderson: Hangover… Charlie: Ugh, he hasn't stopped saying that yet, it's getting old.

So yes, here I was after one, um, interesting party, on my way home. The mothers, (mine and Rob's) had run to the supermarket and made a massive breakfast for the starving peoples of the household. I was still dazed and confused, after all it had been one heck of a night, and after waking up in Rob's bedroom, being Anderson's teddy bear and Sabrina's mouth guard I was beat. So here I was, looking down on my desecrated uniform. It was a mess and stained all over and, judging from the smell and stiffness of the fabric that made my blouse, Anderson was a drooler, ew.

It came to the fact that I couldn't very well wear these clothes. And Chris was rather petit in comparison to me, but not Sabrina (who reeked of vomit), so I stuck going through Robbie's garments for something suitable. There wasn't much along the lines of choice. It was mainly polo shirts, sweatshirts, sweaters, khakis and jeans. I shuffled grouchily through Rob's clothes again and again until he just yelled at me to pick something already, women! I stuck out my tongue at him and pulled on a pair of too large jeans and long sleeved tee. I also stole his Welton sweatshirt for extra measure.

The moms were running a diner downstairs. Mr. Meeks had, much to everyone's relief, found his pants on a ceiling fan. Dad and Mr. Overstreet were discussing vague memories of the previous night. Something about bottle songs and lampshades, I was positive I didn't really want to know what was up with that. Sabrina was emerging from the hall clad in slacks and a blouse. From her expression I knew that she would have much rather borrowed some of Rob's clothes, but we all can't do that, seeing as Anderson had to nip some clothes as well. After all, his shirt was trash and the backs of the legs on his pants were ripped off. Hm, what the hell did that boy do?

Mom put a plate under my nose. I was ready to pounce-

"Table manners." She commanded. I glowered at her and began eating like a lady as opposed to a normal human being. Down the table, Rob, Anderson, Theo, Dad, Mr. Overstreet, Mr. Meeks and Mr. Anderson were shoveling down eggs and bacon as if the food was going to vanish. Dad was slurping down his coffee when Mom slapped him upside the head; meaning he spilled the hot liquid all over his lap. He did a little and hilarious dance over to the tap to get cold water on his scalded thighs. What the end result was that it seemed he'd made in his pants. Then Theo belched.

And Neil had to belch louder. Theo burped again and topped Neil. Again Neil challenged him and again he was louder. They went on for a few rounds until Sabrina, through accident, ended the whole contest than being louder the two put together. But all things must come to an end. Mr. Anderson and his son had a plane to catch back home to, get this, California, where Mr. Anderson was a director by trade. Sabrina, Mr. and Mrs. Meeks had an epic drive back down to Connecticut. And my family had a long haul to Massachusetts that had to be covered quickly so to be home when our grandparents arrived for our traditional Christmas Eve party thingy.

Anderson, Rob, Theo, Sabrina and I high tailed it out of the house when it was time to clean up after the masses. We all hung around outside on Rob's front lawn, starting a snowball fight after about two seconds of being out there. It was a mass of confusion and yelling in which we were decking each other stuffing snow into inconvenient places. I got into a hell of a brawl with Rob, trying to stuff snow down his shirt. I had him decked and was straddling him as he flailed about beneath my patented grip of death. I finally succeeded as The Dads were coming out. I paused and Rob was able to throw me off, but the deed was done and he was squeaking with cold. He ran back into the house to be protected by Mommy.

"COWARD!" I yelled as I got up. Once again I was faced with that awkward situation where you're parents would really like to know what the hell is going on but you really can't explain. Mr. Anderson was again looking mortified by my actions, but I shrugged it off, my Dad thought I was a riot. But he may've still been just a little bit drunk, maybe. Anderson had turned Theo into snowman, I was impressed, considering he's the youngest of four brothers, and probably the most spoiled too. I gave him a hug for such nice handiwork and he grabbed my arm, flipping me neatly into a dazed pile over his shoulder. Now all the parents were laughing as he raised his hands in victory, though his little parade didn't last long because Sabrina and I attacked his legs at the same time, pulling him down.

Neil had me in a headlock and was giving me a noogie as I struggled to get out, I was thrashing around wildly. Sabrina had extricated herself from the fight, walking off to her car. I finally clipped Anderson in the eye with my fingers and he released me to rub the offended body part. I nailed him with the final snow ball and ended the fight, victorious! Soaking wet and laughing I was escorted to the Prix as Dad dug Theo out of the snowman get up Anderson had put him in.

It was a long drive home, full of parental scolding and Theo moaning. I fell asleep after an hour, lulled senseless the steady hum of the engine.

0-o-0

Dad woke me up when we arrived home at about one in the afternoon. Mom was already in the house, putting Theo through the shower and trying to make a decent meal for my demanding grandparents. I was heading to the house but-

"Charlie, some on, we're going for a walk. I want to talk to you." Dad was calling me back. There was a path around the back of the house that we took for a small walk in the woods in the summertime when it was warm and sweet. The icy December air bit at my face, leaving it numb and unfeeling, a mask of skins stretched to tight over a skull.

"O Captain! my Captain!" Dad quoted. "That's from-

"Whitman, an example of apostrophe." Dad looked at me with a confused expression. "Long story." I said simply.

"When I was at Welton, I only knew that line. The Captain, Keating, was the one who was addressed by that name. I know I've held this part back from you for so long. After I left Welton, I, by sheer chance, saw the poem in full." Dad sighed, running his hand through his hair. I saw worry lines that I hadn't before, proof that my father wasn't just the merry and fun person you saw, but he had depth, he was still tormented by his school days, still scarred.

"O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead." Dad recited with slow deliberate words, stressing the death and pain.

"O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up for you the flag is flung for you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths for you the shores a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head!
It is some dream that on the deck,
You've fallen cold and dead." I was slowing; there was pain in the tone of his voice. In all my life I had never heard it there, the torture that was internal and unending. To have carried such things as a good friend's suicide must have been unbearable.

"My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,
The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,
From fearful trip the victor ship comes with object won:
Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
But I walk with mournful tread,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead." Dad was quiet now. The house was creeping back into sight and whatever point he was to make had to made now. We stopped, side by side. Dad faced me.

"Things, Charlie, were so difficult. We all question whether or not we should have done what we did, but how different would things be? Would Neil just have done the same thing later? Would we be different men, other than we are today? But sometimes, I think back, and I don't regret a moment of the Society. I found out things there about myself that no one could tell me. But…" Dad trailed off unsteadily, taking in a long breath. "But, then I have regretted a lot of it at the same time. It's an awful sensation, Charlie…Charlie, don't get caught. You are so much of me, I worry. I remember very much what I was like at your age. Cocky, smart mouthed and a smart ass scraping on by the skin of his teeth in school. Charlie, please, don't do anything stupid, no phone calls from God, unless their collect." His face lifted with a pleasant memory and so did the mood of the day.

"OK Dad." Was all I said. But he went right back to the Dad I knew after a few steps toward the house.

"That boy of Todd's, he's cute. And it appears you two have a very natural chemistry." Yup, he was back!

"DAD! Give me a break!"

"In your arms or your legs?"

"Ugh!" I made snowball and chased his back to the house, trying to make him eat it.

0-o-0

It was a few hours and one very evil dress later that my grandparents arrived to spoil us. I had my parcels already unpacked and under the tree by the second I got back in the house. I was lazing in front of the fireplace when they came in.

There are a few drawbacks to my grandparents. They might love us to death, but their not very proud of my dad since he never became a banker like the wanted him to and never made it to a six figure salary. To them the career he eventually pursued wasn't lucrative enough to be considered good enough. Dad would just ignore them as they hinted to what they thought was his lack of success.

Grandma had arrayed herself (and no other way to explain it) on the couch, looking over the tree and the fireplace, wineglass clasped in her hand. Grandpa was off with Dad, exploring the instruments in 'the Dungeon', otherwise known as the basement of our house. The squawks and groans of various instruments wafted up; the organ (something my father had acquired in order to learn to play it, but instead had let it sit, learning only a few cords that, when strung together, brought about thoughts of the Phantom of the Opera) scared everyone in the room with its deep rumble. After shaking the dust from the ceiling, the two came from the Dungeon.

Mom was at work in the kitchen, smells of ham (the turkey was for tomorrow) drifted from the room. I was wishing I could itch my waist beneath the dress as the sash cut into me. It was a tame evening with not much to report, just the usual critical grandmother and my father apologizing to my mother for her. After dinner, gifts!

Theo, of course, was the little spoiled favorite of my grandparents. He received an armada of toy cars while I got clothing and a stern lecture about my behavior while I was at Welton from my grandfather. Dad mussed my hair and told him jokingly, "Don't worry, Pops, she's not me you know!"

Ah, well, maybe not exactly, but I was close.

0-o-0

I was laying awake that night, looking into the darkness, hoping it would divine my future for me, hoping it would tell me what was going to happen to me. I knew I had taken this risk with full knowledge of what would happen if I got caught. I rolled over onto my stomach. The only thing different this time was that there was no 'Captain' guiding the group, just us trying to figure things out as we went along. We needed that adult guide, but who?

I rolled over again, trying to settle my thoughts. I fell asleep and was awaken the next morning by Theo's loud, resounding footsteps down the stair and his joyful cry of, "PRESENTS!"

Me: There you go! Next Chapter: New Years! Anderson: Par-tay! Everyone: I don't think so! Anderson: What? Charlie: Hangover, remember? Anderson: No, not really. Sabrina: Nothing? Anderson: Nope. Me: Still no party. Anderson: Aw, come on!