Kathleen's poem is actually one of my own so please be nice. Also, have any of you seen Welton Jumpers on Amazon or Etsy? I have not yet managed to discover one but apparently they exist!

Hope was but a timid friend;
She sat without the grated den,
Watching how my fate would tend,
Even as selfish-hearted men.

[...]

False she was, and unrelenting;
When my last joys strewed the ground,
Even Sorrow saw, repenting,
Those sad relics scattered round;

Hope, whose whisper would have given
Balm to all my frenzied pain,
Stretched her wings, and soared to heaven,
Went, and ne'er returned again!

~ Hope, Emily Bronte (1846)

Chapter 6 - A day of revelation, part two

"Why do I stand up here? Anybody?" Mr Keating examined the sea of curious faces breathing life into his lesson. His gaze swept the length of the room, settling at last on the perpetual smirk in the back.

"To feel taller?"

"No," the Captain rang a bell with his foot. "Thank you for playing, Mr Dalton," he called over the shrill sound.

Kathleen turned around and grinned at Charlie, whilst her eyes searched his desk for the doodle of the day. Sure enough, on his notebook were lines in contrasting shades of lead to form a drawing. A woman with a sultry look smoking a cigarette was imprinted on the page. She looked at him and he shrugged, their recently developed code for the game played each English lesson. Since she had seen his enhanced drawing of female anatomy in the midst of the whirlwind second lesson, a habit had developed. He would draw something, and she would react. Sometimes it would serious, other times silly, and sometimes he would surprise her like he had yesterday, when he had drawn the most beautiful sunset...which by the end of the lesson had an amorous couple on the beach beneath it. Really, she should have expected that one.

"It's good," she mouthed in response to his unasked question.

"I stand upon my desk to remind myself that we must constantly look at things a different way." Keating's voice cut through their silent exchange and Kathleen turned to face the front of the room again. "You see," he continued, "the world looks very different from up here. You don't believe me? Come see for yourself. Come on!"

Despite knowing he was serious, the students remained seated. Kathleen heard the chair behind her scrape across the tarnished floorboards. Charlie fell into step with Neil, joining him as the first to rise from their seats and experiment with Keating. Kathleen caught Knox's eye and shrugged, standing resolutely amidst the questioning glances as she moved to stand behind Keating's desk. Knox joined her as she passed him; prompting Meeks to take up the opportunity. Soon, the rest of the class followed, forming a que the United Kingdom would be proud of by the central desk.

"Just when you think you know something; you have to look at it in another way. Even though it may seem silly or wrong, you must try! Now, when you read, don't just consider what the author thinks. Consider what you think," Mr Keating jumped down, gesturing for his students to step up.

Neil's long limbs swung up first. He stood above the sequences of mundane objects of education. His eyes drank in visions his friends could only guess at from the gleam in his eyes. Charlie helped Kathleen up. She smiled gratefully, laughing when he deliberately turned away from Knox's mocking hand which he held out like a lady, and the pout on his face when he was ignored.

"Boys, and girl. You must strive to find your own voice. The longer you wait to begin, the less likely you are to find it at all. Thoreau said that most men 'lead lives of quiet desperation.*' Don't be resigned to that. Break out!"

Kathleen and Knox jumped down and headed back to their seats to watch the others have a go. Most people took a moment to ponder the view, while some jumped down almost immediately, causing Keating to yell, "don't just walk off the edge like lemmings! Take a look around you!"

There were still several students in line when the bell rang. The gang gathered their stuff and waited for Todd who was currently elevated on the desk.

"Dare to strike out onto new ground! Now, in addition to your essays, I would like you all to compose a poem of your own, an original work." The Captain grabbed his blazer and walked casually over to the doorway. He surveyed them for a final time, and then flickered the lights on and off, ignoring the protests of the class. "That's right! You have to deliver it aloud in front of the class on Monday."

As Todd jumped down, Mr Keating, who had just left, returned to the doorway. "Mr Anderson? Don't think that I don't know that this assignment scares the hell out of you, you mole." He punctuated the words with intent, reaching out to turn off the lights as he disappeared. The class remained in darkness.

"Todd?" Neil called out into the void. He projected his voice above the sniggering of his classmates. "Todd, where are you?"

"Ouch!" Kathleen cried. A sharp pain bloomed as her thigh hit the corner of a desk. The ache betrayed the beginnings of a nasty bruise.

Charlie's voice emerged from the darkness, "are you okay?"

"Yeah, just walked into a desk," she replied, squinting to make out shapes which she could not discern. "Will someone please turn the lights back on!"

"I'm trying to locate them," Cameron snapped from the other side of the room.

"She's hurt Cameron, don't be an ass." Charlie's voice was this closer this time.

Kathleen turned towards the sound, "I'm fine. Don't worry."

"Neil? Is that you?" Todd's voice interrupted the brewing argument.

"Yeah," Neil said, "hold onto my arm. I'm holding onto Meek's. Everyone else grab on!"

"Neil, keep talking. I don't know where you are," Knox called.

"I think we're in the centre."

Kat felt her way around the desks. Her hand brushed each rough surface with care in an effort to protect herself from further injury. "Charlie? Are you still nearby?"

"I think so," she heard his voice somewhere on her left, "stay where you are."

"Cameron, lights?" Shouted Neil.

"I'm trying!"

"If you can't find them, then someone find a window and pull up the bloody blinds!" She breathed deeply, reigning her fraying tempter in. Suddenly, she felt a warm hand hesitantly touch her arm.

"Charlie?"

"I've got you," the hand relaxed and slid down her arm to take her hand, gently guiding her into what she guessed was one of the walkways between the rows. The lack obstacles was a welcome relief. "This should be a less hazardous path," he muttered.

"Charlie? Kathleen? We're just missing you two and Cameron," Neil shouted.

"We're getting there," Kathleen replied, "just keep talking."

The words had hardly left her lips when a blinding flash lit the room. An artificial yellow swept down from the ceiling as the electricity buzzed back to life. Fraser stood in the doorway. His face composed into a smirk and his arms folded with satisfaction as he observed the bewildered crowd. On the opposite wall, Richard Cameron clung to a framed illustration of William Blake. He shuffled backwards, flushing at his error. As he moved towards the centre, he bumped into a line of boys all holding onto each other's arms, bag straps, or shoulders. A few metres away, Kathleen began to gain her bearings, her hand entwined with Charlie's.

"All right, Dalton." Fraser's gaze dropped, pointedly fixing on their joint hands. Kathleen reacted in tune with her senses. She let go of Charlie's hand, replacing the warmth with the strap of her satchel.

Charlie scowled at Fraser but said nothing. As Cameron crossed his field of vision, he snapped, "well found, genius."

As the students picked up their stuff and left, Kathleen caught up with Charlie and thanked him. For some reason she felt awful about dropping his hand like a hot potato. He was just being a good friend, she thought, much like Neil immediately seeking out Todd.

XXXX

That afternoon, Kathleen lay stretched out on the grass under the golden tree by the lake. Tendrils of hair escaped her neat ponytail in the mid-September breeze. She smoothed down the flicking pages but stopped as movement caught her eye. She put her copy of The Secret Garden down, propping her chin up on her palm as she watched the boys' boat go by. She didn't envy them at all. Her grandfather ran the school rowing club, and he was serious about the sport. Even from the embankment, she could hear him shouting orders at the poor boys. Friday afternoon rowing was the only time that Meeks and Pitts dared to use their contraband radio - even if their caution confined them to the rooftop.

As she spotted them rowing back towards the school, she got up and dusted herself off. It was best to make herself scarce and avoid any unnecessary awkward conversation with Nolan, especially in front to the boys. Although they all knew that she was the headmaster's grandchild, she didn't like to remind them of that fact. She headed back to her room and began to write her poem. Reading poetry was one thing, writing it was much harder.

I'm haunted by life.

Memories shroud every inch this family home,

secrets buried deep beneath stone.

I've found friends far from my true home,

inside these walls which make me feel most alone.

Nostalgia haunts the bad, and time taints the good.

It's better than any sin.

Yet time marches on,

reminding me to act on whim.

I'm haunted by life,

By what is.

By what could, and has been.

By what is ahead

and what is within.

Her pen clattered onto the desk with a release of breath. She stared at the words; each curl of ink blurred together under her critical eye. A frantic knock on the door interrupted her reverie. "Come in."

In tumbled Todd, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Todd?" Kathleen said softly, "what's wrong?"

"You're a girl. Girls know this, they're good with secrets - right?" He stared at her with startling intensity.

Kathleen rose from her desk. "I can keep a secret," she promised, closing the door, "sit down." She gestured to her bed and he perched on the end.

She had just sat down next to him when he leapt up to pace the room. Each length of her tiny dorm was crossed thrice before she dared to speak. "Todd? Are you-"

"I think I like someone," he blurted, "I'm sure- I- I don't- I don't know."

"Okay," she nodded, feeling her panic recede. That was something to work with. "Todd, it's a completely terrifying feeling but we can figure it out."

He looked up; uncertainty painted across his features. "It is?" He asked, "even for-" Todd broke off again, "even if..."

Kathleen said nothing, her heartbeat loud in her ears. She scarcely dared to move out of fear that it would prevent him from getting whatever it was off his chest.

"Kat," he whispered, settling across the room in the chair by her desk, "we're friends, right?"

"Of course," she nodded solemnly.

"And friends are friends, no matter what?"

"No matter what. Friends aren't real friends if they purposely hurt you," she replied, eyes scanning him for any sign of harm.

"I like Neil," he said.

Kathleen blinked as the puzzle pieces fell into place. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay," she nodded.

Todd almost tripped in his haste to leave the room.

Kathleen collapsed into the chair he had just vacated. How had she not noticed?

The truth hit her in a barrage of memories. Moments that had been discarded in her own distraction made so much more sense. Todd had really come out of his shell, but when they talked about their old schools he had shut down. He told her he had some trouble, lost his friends, and that his parents moved. She knew that Neil and herself were his best friends, but there was a difference between how Todd reacted to him, and how he reacted to her. She had been so caught up in Nancy's impending visit, the club, and her Grandfather's demands that she had neglected to notice his turmoil.

She jumped up and rushed out of the room, "Todd?" Kathleen hurried around the corner and down the boy's corridor, and directly into Fraser.

They collided with a thud; her hand braced against the wall the steady herself.

Red warmed her cheeks, "sorry."

Fraser seemed unaffected, barely moved by her momentum. With a shrug, she turned towards Todd and Neil's room.

"Hey!"

She turned around, scanning the barren corridor for her friend. "I'm sorry, I need to be somewhere Fraser. You can make mysterious comments tomorrow."

"Mysterious comments? "The door between the two students opened. Charlie and Cameron appeared in the space.

Cameron glanced at them, frowning at her flustered expression. "We heard noise," he said flatly.

"What mysterious comments?" Charlie repeated. A fierce glare fixed on Fraser.

"I don't have time for this!" Kathleen threw her hands up, "sort it out yourselves." She pushed past the trio of testosterone, past Neil and Todd's empty room, and found herself on the rooftop in pursuit of Todd.

"Todd?" She spun like a human compass across the stone. "Todd?"

"Kat?"

"Todd," she breathed out in relief as she spotted him curled up by the wall. "Why did you run off like that?"

"I don't know, I just got overwhelmed and I-I panicked."

Kathleen slid down the stone, sitting cross-legged next to him. She drew her skirt over her knees as she spoke, "is this why you had to leave Balincrest?"

He nodded, "I don't want it to happen again. I like it here, I-I like the people."

"You won't have to," she promised, nudging his shoulder with hers. "I understand more than you know. Nobody will think any differently of you, not Charlie, Meeks, Pitts, Knox, especially not Neil. And Cameron might have trouble at first, but he'll get used to it. Neil loves you as a best friend for sure, you won't lose that, ever. Even if he doesn't feel the same, he won't treat you any differently."

"Really?"

"Really. And if it doesn't work out, well...at least you have some more material for your writing."

Todd let a small laugh escape as they watched the stars glowing in the night sky. His shoulders felt lighter as they rested against the cool stone. His arm pulled her in, and she rested her head on his shoulder.

"Thank you, Kat," he murmured quietly into her ear

"Anytime," she whispered back.

See, I promised you Anderperry.

* 'The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation,' Walden, Henry David Thoreau (1854)