Unfortunately, I've had to complete this chapter in small increments over the last few weeks due to a change in my glasses prescription. By the time I've finished online Uni classes and the weekly reading my eyes are completely worn out and headaches begin to set in. I'm still waiting for my new glasses to arrive, but I just wanted to get this chapter up as soon as possible. For this reason, I'll be editing more thoroughly once they arrive and the squinting stops. Hopefully I haven't missed too many big mistakes!
I hope you're all well and that you enjoy the drama kicking off in this chapter. It's another 5.5k beast so clearly my self-control is non-existent.
'Come, sportive Fancy! come with me, and trace
The Poet's attic home! the lofty seat
Of th' heav'n-tutor'd Nine! the airy throne
Of bold Imagination, rapture fraught,
Above the herds of mortals. All around
A solemn stillness seems to guard the scene...'
~'The Poet's Garret,' by Mary Robinson (1800)*
Chapter Fifty-two -'Destiny ordain'd to be'*
The breakfast hall seemed falsely cheerful. Yellow rays of morning sun streamed through the high, Venetian windows set in rigid intervals around the rectangular space. Despite the abundance of light flooding in, Kat groped blindly for her mug of coffee, her eyes fixed on the slew of calculation filled papers spread out across the tabletop.
In one smooth motion, Neil pulled back the milk jug situated dangerously close to her left hand and switched it with the mug Todd had rescued from her last blind attempt.
She hugged the warmth of the ceramic in her hands for a moment, before knocking back her coffee in a manner that would indicate something far stronger resided in the standard-issue Welton crockery.
"I can make that Irish," Charlie said drily, throwing his arm over the back of her chair. It rested loosely, deliberately casual in a way that forced Kat to refrain from rolling her eyes.
"I need the caffeine, not a nightcap" she quipped, her shoulder brushing his wrist.
"I don't know." Pitts pointed his spoon towards her, the movement dripping milk onto Meeks' sleeve. "Tipsy test taking could be the key."
Kat pushed her clean napkin into Meeks' hands. "As much as I appreciate your advice, Pitts, I think I'll have to disregard it this time."
"With common sense like that you'll ace it," Meeks blotted the droplets from his sleeve. "Is this going smell?"
Pitts moved to kick Meeks under the table but his long legs tangled with those of innocent bystanders. Knox cried out in indignation as he was jolted sideways, his orange juice thrown violently over the side of his glass.
Kat dived for her revision notes. Pulling them towards her, she scanned them for damage. Other than a few spots of damp on the corners, the papers had survived relatively unscathed.
"Never scare me like that again." Her shoulders slumped as she breathed out in relief, the stack of notes pinned to her chest.
"It's only a test-"
"at Welton," Neil finished bluntly. His eyes widened at the glares shot his way, each pair of eyes ranging from panicked to accusatory.
Meeks looked unimpressed. "Ah, yes. Welton. A school built from bricks, mortar and high expectations."
"I was joking," Neil backtracked, "or lying. Whichever is better."
Kat's grimace prompted Todd to prise the fork out of her clenched fist. She relinquished it with sigh.
"It's a shame they stopped recycling last years' question papers," Knox said, "we could've asked Todd's brother for his old exam."
"I bet the nerd would've kept it," Nuwanda shot Todd a conspiratorial grin. "No offence, but he's the kind of bootlicker Cameron aspires to be."
Todd snorted into his cereal. His eyes shone at joker's pleased look.
"Old papers are reference material. You're not supposed to cheat with them," Cameron frowned.
"I'm not supposed to sneak out past curfew, or smoke, or drink on school grounds, nor was I supposed to fill Fraser's rowing kit with rotting fish in third year," Charlie shrugged, "but here we are."
"How moral of you, Nuwanda."
"Please don't compliment me on my morals, Neil. I have a reputation to uphold."
Cameron tapped the face of his wristwatch. "We can debate your morals or lack-thereof later. We need to get to class."
"Kill me now." Kat groaned, pretending to impale herself on her rolled up revision notes. "It would be less painful, please!"
"You'll live!" Neil said cheerily, linking his arm through hers and dragging her up from the bench. He locked eyes with Knox and tilted his chin meaningfully in her direction. With a look of resignation, Knox complied. He took her other arm and snatched the papers from her hands, passing them quickly to Todd who shoved them into his bag.
"Traitors," she huffed. Her tone held more dread than venom.
Neil shrugged. "For now. You'll thank us later."
Charlie snorted; his expression unabashed as the group looked at the pair with concern.
"At least someone's honest," Kat muttered, falling silent as they ascended the stairs. As she watched the dull, cream walls pass by a Scottish rhyme recited by her grandfather sang through her mind:
'A child should always say what's true
And speak when he is spoken to,
And behave mannerly at table;
At least as far as he is able.'
Her lips twitched. Only Nolan would entertain children with Stevenson's Whole Duty of Children instead of The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde*. No matter what circumstances blew in to change the tides of her life, her grandfather could always be relied upon to weigh the wilder elements down with rocks. Maybe, 'as far as she is able' could, for once, be enough.
XXXX
Meeks ducked into the corridor with a satisfied grin. "That wasn't so bad. How did everyone-"
The door opened with a bang as it hit the wall. Kat swept into the corridor, bringing a cloud of anxiety with her. "You will not believe—"
"Question two?" Todd asked, slipping out from behind her and nudging the door shut. He laid a hand on her back, gently guiding her away from the teacher's hearing.
Kat took a deep breath before she answered. "Yes! Who on earth decided to put the higher-level work at the start!?"
Meeks gestured at Neil and Nuwanda for help. The boys shared a look of apprehension as the pitch of her voice rose. He answered his own question in a low voice, "I guess we're not all feeling confident about it, then."
"Not particularly," her voice softened dangerously.
"You can't be sure of that," Neil appeared on her other side, his eyes connecting with Todd's above her head. "Wait for the result, or even Cameron's opinion if you're worried."
"I wouldn't worry about waiting for that," Knox grinned as they moved swiftly down the corridor. "Cameron will give his opinion whether you ask for it or not."
Kat ducked her head as Cameron glared at his verbal attacker. She felt hot and itchy, as if her body had become too small to contain her emotions. Unhooking her arm from Neil's, she reached up to pull out her hair tie. Thick, brown waves hit Kat's cheekbones. She let the tousled mess hang as she linked their arms once again, careful to keep the natural curtain over her watery eyes.
The conversation quickly devolved into undignified taunts about one another's exams as Kat made a show of avoiding the lines between the floorboards. "Step on the crack, break your mother's back" she recited, feeling gratitude sweep through her body as the boys continued to steer their attention elsewhere, seemingly accepting her superstitious game.
As the languages classroom came into view, she switched tactics. Promptly freeing herself from Neil and Todd's affectionate hold, she stopped purposefully at the threshold and knocked on the doorframe before stepping inside.
"What?" She asked, sweeping her hair behind her ears. "I'm knocking on wood to secure any good luck."
Pitts pulled a face.
"Not everything is about science," Kat said defensively as she slipped into a back desk. Ignoring their debate, she methodically organised her workspace. Mouthing numbers, she counted objects like she would seconds between thunder to determine how close an impending storm loomed.
Her mouth moved mechanically as Mr McAllister began leading a jovial chant to recap on conjunctions. A pencil rested in her hand, but her eyes remained blank as they fixed intently on the chalk board. The hour crawled by with a profusion of grammatical structure. Kat's unflinching gaze remained until the clanging bell signalled for their release at break.
She blinked. Under the flickering lights Knox came into focus.
"Are you coming?"
"Yeah, sorry." Kat swung her satchel onto her shoulder, quickly sweeping her possessions inside. "I was just wondering if Boudicca* bothered with Latin conjunctions when she led the rebellion against the Romans?"
"I think she was too busy poisoning herself to escape capture," Meeks said drily.
Neil's expression faltered. "Just wondering?" He said breathlessly, "I believe you were wandering into daydreams, not thoughts, Miss Murray."
"Unacceptable, I know." She rolled her eyes, "I'm expecting Hager to appear at any second."
Nuwanda grinned as they stepped into the crowded hallways. "That man sniffs out disobedience like a bloodhound."
"It's Nolan you have you have to look out for at this time of day," Meeks pointed to the empty vantage point at the top of the staircase. "He never misses the rush at break, it's prime for spotting minor infractions."
Like a summoned demon, the Headmaster melted from the shade at the foot of the stairs. Kat sighed and pulled Meek's extended arm down. His gesture altered quickly into the cleaning of his glasses. He wiped the lenses with vigour as the authoritative figure drew closer, his footsteps parting the crowd.
The presence of an actual demon may be more pleasant, Kat concluded, catching sight of her grandfather's stony expression. She had no doubt that Pitts had tried his hand at the occult to raise his grades at some point during his short life; maybe next time he could add a request on her behalf.
Her amusement dissolved as the man of the hour approached. He regarded the gathered students with an air of contempt.
"Kathleen," his voice cut through the cacophony, "will you accompany me to my office?"
"Of course," she took a brisk step towards him, sensing her friends' discomfort. "I'll see you in class."
After a series of nods and her own nervous smile, Kat followed the headmaster's long strides through the centre of the chaos. He moved, untouched, between the chaos of frantic upperclassmen and frenzied lower schoolboys battling their way through the building. As Nolan shut the door to his muted office, a feeling uncomfortably akin to relief swept through her body as she stood alone with the crackling fire.
Nolan paced the room. His dark suit appeared almost brown in the low-light, its metamorphic quality contrasted with the staid elegance and oppression embodied by the grandeur of the room.
Kat remained static as she waited for him to speak, her shoes poking at the edges of the burgundy rug opposite his desk.
"You failed."
A powerful, sinking sensation struck her stomach.
"Perhaps I have pushed you beyond your natural capabilities." Her grandfather spoke with his chin raised, his eyes on the portrait to her left. "I believed that the classes here would challenge you somewhat, but it is abundantly clear that your distractions with young men such as Mr Van der Garde, are beginning to consume your focus." He turned away from his painted counterpart, his eyes softening as they fell upon the trembling girl burning orange in the firelight. "If you prioritise-," his lips pursed, twisting with contempt,"-gallivanting around school over your studies than we should put your notions about college aside and formulate more fitting arrangements for the new year."
He held up his hand as her lips twitched. "You are almost eighteen years-old, Kathleen. You are no longer a child."
"My priorities," she choked on the word. Her breathing grew ragged as his words settled into her bones. "Cameron tutored me for weeks in preparation for this test! IT WAS YOUR ARRANGEMENTS FOR ETIQUETTE LESSONS, INVITATION WRITING, OR AFTERNOON TEA WITH THE BOYS THAT YOU PUSHED ME TO INTO SEEING THAT INTERRUPTED MY STUDIES." Kat's throat stung with every word wrenched from the vault of injustice in her heart. "YOU RUN THIS SCHOOL. YOU MAKE THE RULES; YET I'M BANNED FROM SPORT, BANNED FROM POLITICS, AND DISCOURAGED FROM EXTRACURRICULARS WITH COLLEGE CREDITS."
She paused. Her voice sunk into a hoarse whisper, "that was your plan all along, wasn't it? Get me here under the pretence of education and marry me off after graduation to a suitable match." Tears rolled down her cheeks as she laughed humourlessly, "you talk about your darling daughter, but she can't stand you. My mother hightailed it off to Scotland and eloped at eighteen, my next birthday. If you ask me, it was the best decision she ever made."
Nolan stumbled into his chair. A distorted expression buckled his steely features as the uncanny spectre of pressed skirts and wild hair rushed from his office. Twenty years compressed into a single image extinguished as the door slammed.
Kat tore through the empty halls with the violence of a summer storm. Her sobs echoed, haunting her instinctual path to the upper floors. Ducking behind the sturdy grandfather clock, Kat dropped to the ground. Her knees curled under her as the last of her control snapped. Lost in a watery haze, she hardly noticed the sun peak at midday, its rays seeping through the ruby, stained glass window.
An object pressed into her consciousness. With a steadied breath, she grasped it. A Whitman volume slid from behind her back, it's cover flecked with wax. Kat clung to it. Keating's words reached out as her finger ran down the index, turning to the recommended page as if under his command. Squinting through blurry visions, she wrapped herself up in the words of By Blue Ontario's Shore.*
"For the great idea, the idea of perfect and free individuals," she rasped. "For that, the bard walks in advance, leader of leaders, The attitude of him cheers up slaves and horrifies foreign despots." The rawness scraped something tender within her, but she pushed on, the wretched avalanche of her despair shifting with the hopeful verse. "For the great idea, That, O my brethren, that is the mission of poets. Songs of stern defiance ever ready, Songs of rapid arming and the march, The flag of peace quick-folded, and instead the flag we know, Warlike flag of the great idea." She pushed herself back against the wall, clutching desperately to the intangible magic of the words asserting that she alone was enough. Images drifted in and out as her tears dried, sticking to her cheeks as Kat faded into sleep; a soft ball of grey wool and white cotton wedged into a forgotten corner.
XXXX
Regret was the furthest thought from Kat's mind as she awoke.
The old hideaway held traces of green in the air. From her observations, the light had dipped from ruby to emerald fragments in the small window as she slept. It must, she thought, be sometime after lunch.
Brushing her skirt down, Kat rose from the ground. The Whitman book fell with a thump. She tore her eyes from it, redirecting her gaze out into the sparsely populated corridor. Summoning a guise of nonchalance, she joined the usual afternoon mill.
A glimpse of exuberance caught her eye as she approached the dormitory corridor. The tall boy flung his arms wide as he spoke, his voice soaring above the crowd. Kat pulled her fingers from the knots in her hair, bringing them up into a wave.
"Neil!"
The boy pivoted, his face lighting up.
"There you are!" His hands fell from their wave and landed firmly upon her shoulders. "What's wrong?"
"It's fine," her dismissive shrug caused his concerned expression to intensify. "Nolan being Nolan. I promise I'm okay."
Todd hovered at his shoulder; his frown fixed somewhere behind him. "We have debate in ten minutes, but we can stay for a while?"
"No, I'll walk with you." She tried for a reassuring smile, but its effect seemed minimal. "My meeting overran into history. What did I miss?"
"More colonial massacres." An acerbic voice spoke, "all framed as a victories, of course." Todd turned sideways. Charlie emerged in the space behind his body, leaning against the doorframe to his open room. He hardly glanced up from the paper in his hands as he spoke. After a minute, he tucked the pencil behind his ear.
"Which translates to 'ask Knox for his notes,' not Cameron."
Neil's delight was tangible. "There are a few angry tangents in the margins."
"And he's got debate next?" Her eyes gleamed. "If he's fired up, they'll disqualify him within minutes."
"We hope," Todd added brightly.
She laughed. "I want that story with the history notes."
A conspiratorial glance was exchanged between the roommates.
"I think that can be arranged," Neil nodded towards the door. "Are we still on for that thing we talked about?"
Kat nodded as she waved them towards the exit. "I'll ring Nancy for the instructions. Now go, don't miss Knox's moment!"
As she watched them leave a note was pushed into her hands.
Lake, 20 mins.
The torn paper remained unsigned but the author, or should she say illustrator, was clear. The three words had been woven into the lakeside scene and sprawled out in leaden lines. She traced the swoop of each slanted letter curling into the vines which underlined the message; the tendrils curling down into small birds and flowers, all sheltered beneath a moon that looked as if it were made of cheese. Shaking her head at the predictably unpredictable twist, Kat headed towards the student telephones.
She had a feeling that Knox's glory was about to usurped by someone playing truant.
XXXX
The sky was free from all clouds; blue fading to grey against the lighter shade of the endless water stretching towards the horizon. Kat breathed in the cold air with a shiver as she wandered towards the barren trees that marked the usual spot like a skeletal cross. Beneath their outstretched fingers sat a dark-haired boy. Traces of smoke hung in air, the breeze pushing the hazy swirls out across the icy water.
"Did the dread for extracurriculars erase all sense from your brain?" She kept her arms crossed but her tone light as she rubbed them for warmth. "It's snowing."
"I like to live dangerously," he shrugged, snow crunching as his body weight settled on the ground.
"Ah, yes. That's why you're risking Nolan's ire by getting kicked out of class."
He smirked at her accurate assumption, "gotta chase that adrenaline."
"That would've sounded better if you weren't breathing like a dragon," she deadpanned, the same white mist exhaling from her mouth.
"Why slay the dragon when you can become one?"
"For that to work you'd have to be a knight first."
"And I'm not!?" His mock indignation tickled a giggle from throat.
"I thought we'd established that I'm not a damsel."
"Perhaps not, but I still tempted you from the tower."
She paused, eyes swivelling to the outline of Welton Academy standing tall in the distance. Her eyes widened, "I-I guess you sort of…did?"
His barking laughter caused her to pivot, a dusting of snow flying up as she moved.
"You - how - but" she shook her head, "that's cheating. You asked!"
"For the princess to up and leave her miserable captivity? Yeah," he reclined back against the tree; his eyes closed. "Simple, direct, and effective. Fairy tales should learn from me."
"That is a vast over-simplification of fairy-tale circumstances."
"Probably lower-stakes, too."
Kat made a noise of agreement, letting her back fall against the rough bark on the other side of the tree. She noted how near their shoulders were to touching. "Do I want to know how you escaped?"
"Definitely not," he said quickly, "but expect me to be in detention on Monday."
"Why am I not surprised" she muttered, dipping her hand into her satchel and pulling out a paperback. "Have you ever read E.M Forster's Maurice*?"
He tilted his head to examine the cover, "no."
"Good." Kat leaned into the gap, pressing her shoulder to his as she read:
"I should have gone through life half awake if you'd had the decency to leave me alone. Awake intellectually, yes, and emotionally in a way; but here-" He pointed with his pipe stem to his heart; and both smiled. "Perhaps we woke up one another. I like to think that anyway."
They watched the sun drop into the water as she read. As its glow dimmed, small bands of pink lighted its descent, followed by flashes of violet over the deep blue.
"We'd better go," Charlie dragged his eyes from the sunset, "before we get hypothermia. Neil will kill us if we're late to his pre-stage appointment."
XXXX
"Wait! I've got one for Moby-Dick,*" Neil smacked his palm against the cold tiles of the changing room wall. "Sent me to sleep in under five minutes; the insomnia cure of the century."
Kat grinned, lifting the wooden spoon from the mixing bowl in her lap to point it at Todd. "Your turn."
He hummed as she continued to stir the gloopy green mixture. "Of Mice and Men:* made me cry so much I got out of a math test due to my teacher's concern for my wellbeing. Ten out of ten."
"War and Peace,*" Kat reviewed, "the perfect weight to take down enemies with a single, well-aimed throw." She glanced down at the concoction, testing its consistency with a noise of approval.
She placed it in the centre of the abandoned changing room - careful not to spill it on her blue night-gown - and leaned back against the bench once more. "It's ready!"
Neil dived in and slathered his face with green.
"I would usually suggest a patch test" Kat said slowly, "but I guess that works too."
"Let's hope the stage diva isn't allergic to avocado," Nuwanda teased. Neil looked up with a grin, his hand sweeping a line of goo from across his jaw before he flung it at Charlie's face.
It landed with a splatter.
Todd laughed; his entire body shook as he sprawled out across the floor. He stretched an arm towards the mixing bowl now balanced on Neil's knee. The other boy swatted his hand away, turning towards Todd to apply the face mask himself.
Knox watched Kat with poorly veiled interest as she lightly applied the substance to her skin. "Is this the kind of thing Chris enjoys?"
She nodded, tucking loose strands of hair behind her ear. "It's her recipe."
He pulled the bowl away from Neil, his eyes alight with interest as he inspected it. Charlie leaned over, putting equal amounts of mixture into his mouth as he put onto his face.
"Is it something she would do with Chet? On date night?"
Charlie almost choked on his mouthful of avocado.
"I-I," Kat breathed deeply to reign in her giggles. "I doubt Chet's ever seen her idea of fun."
"It's not an activity for a man to do," Cameron spoke from the far corner. He lowered his textbook to look at their green faces with disdain. "For once, Chet is in the right."
"I doubt his masculinity could handle it," Charlie said bitingly. "So why be a misery in the corner if you won't join in?"
Neil frowned as he glanced between the pair, equally unhappy with their developing fight as the unnecessary spite towards his first foray into self-care.
Cameron slammed his book shut, muttering about finding Meeks for his chemistry homework. He stalked across the room before Neil could form a diplomatic response, the pale light washing his jacket the same shade of beige as the wall.
Kat thought it somewhat fitting as she watched him leave. Cameron certainly seemed to be the human embodiment of beige.
"Excellent conflict de-escalation," Knox raised an eyebrow. "I can see your method of befriending the enemy," he raised his hands into air quotes, "to get your poem back is going well."
Nuwanda scrunched his nose. "I vow henceforth to abandon said vow of friendship, and to pursue any action necessary."
Kat rolled her eyes. "You're as dramatic as Manfred.*"
Neil looked between her and Charlie with amusement, "Walpole or Byron?"
"Byron." Kat answered, her head tilting sideways. "I still haven't read The Castle of Otranto* but it's waiting on my bookshelf."
Todd hummed in agreement. The shadows blunted the stark edges of anxiety almost permanently carved into his face. He looked relaxed in a way she had rarely seen. Kat's eyes drifted to Neil as he replied, his bright voice low and controlled as his eyes roamed Todd's profile, lingering on the smudge of his lashes, and the slope of his cheekbones down to his unclenched jaw.
Kat let their quiet conversation drift over her. Breathing out, she felt contentment push the tension from her limbs leaving them languid and light.
"Feeling better?" Charlie asked.
She felt her cheeks flush as his low voice brushed her earlobe. "Do I really lack that much subtlety?"
"Subtle," he said matter-of-factly, "is not you."
"It would be a useful characteristic," she confessed.
He sent her a sharp look.
"But boring," Kat conceded. She shifted closer, crossing her outstretched legs at the ankle.
"Hey," his arm pressed lightly against hers, "you know you can tell me anything. It's not stupid if it bothers you."
"I'll be alright," her eyelashes lifted as she surveyed the room, "this makes things right."
A half-hour later, the group gathered outside the dormitories. Every so often, Knox stroked his face, unrelentingly astonished by the restorative powers of the face mask. Each exclamation prompted Kat to break into further giggles.
"Stop!" She tugged at his arm. "You'll transfer all dirt back onto your skin."
The answering whine cut off abruptly as Neil stopped. He stood rigidly with one hand on the open door.
"Father!?" He hurriedly scrubbed his other hand over his face despite all traces of their pamper session being removed in the isolation of the changing rooms.
Kat barely caught a glimpse of Mr Perry before Knox pulled her behind him and Todd. Her nightdress brushed the back of her calves at the sudden movement. At her confused look, Charlie plucked at the belted tie at her waist and her mouth dropped. With a sharp inhale she pulled her robe tighter, all of them conscious of the impropriety of their nightwear for the first time in all their midnight wonderings.
As Neil blocked the doorway, they shuffled backwards into Charlie's empty room.
"He's not supposed to be here," Todd said.
Mr Perry's raised voice travelled through the walls. His words were stilted by the distance, but their harshness rang clear across the hall.
"No shit," Charlie scoffed. He bounced on his heels, poised like a coiling spring beside the door.
Todd ignored him, watching the floorboards as if they might display the answer. "He-he knows."
They lapsed into silence as they waited for Neil - stuck between his theatrical and real part - to escape from his Father.
Kat wandered to the window. Recoiling from the furious words of another guardian intent on deliberate ignorance, she let her head press against the glass. Outside the snow fell thick and she lost herself in its blankness, begging for something, for anything, to stop the destruction of Neil's dream.
A presence to her right changed the direction of her gaze. Todd folded himself into the corner, his attention flicking between the eerie ceasefire a few doors down and the scene outside.
Gently, Kat tugged at his wrist and the chewed sleeve of his jumper slipped from his mouth. She threaded his shaky fingers through her own, smiling lightly as he squeezed her hand.
Their eye contact broke as the door opened.
Neil entered, looking as weathered as his fraying pyjamas. It was as if someone could pull a loose thread and he would unravel completely. Kat ached to reassure him, but the exhaustion in the shadows beneath his eyes seemed to be carried bone deep. Recently, it emerged just as often as his trademark joy; an emotion so strong it could reasonably blind the sun.
"He wants me to drop out of the play."
Charlie let out a string of curses, his expression darkening as Neil failed to react.
"What are you going to do?" Asked Knox.
Neil shrugged. "Take the consequences, I guess. It's too late to back out now."
"And your parents?" Worry coloured Todd's tone.
"Will hate me," he admitted. "I doubt even Charlie's presence could help this time."
"Hey, your parents adore me!" He protested, "tell them you'll join the theatre and live with me. I can't blow my trust fund alone."
Kat eyebrows furrowed. "No offence, but If your parents are so strict, I don't understand how they can adore Charlie."
"I'm charming!"
Knox scoffed and Charlie shot him a withering glare.
"It's not him, it's his connections" Neil explained, "they love him because of his parents and their position in society."
"That's insane," Kat looked around at the boys who shrugged. It was no secret.
"Is it?" Knox continued. "His Mother can trace her ancestors to a signature on the Declaration of Independence, and his Father is descended from a British Earl. Between them they probably have enough old money to buy an entire county."
"Don't exaggerate," Nuwanda said, feigning disinterest as he lit a cigarette. "Besides, one day they'll realise my parents hardly know, nor care who I associate with."
Neil ignored him. "He accidentally scorched a rug once and my Father actually laughed." He shook his head, "boys will be boys until it's my mistake."
"I keep him out of trouble, it's why he keeps me around." Charlie winked at Neil who smiled softly. They exchanged a look radiating nostalgia and gratitude. Whatever unspoken memory had passed between them, it seemed significant.
"It's the privilege of money," Neil said. It was a fact spoken without trace of malice or resentment for his peers. "I can't mess up. My Father worked hard for what we have, and he won't let me ruin it."
She had always been told she was a very bright girl; but at this moment she felt exceedingly dim. Her own family were by no means connected to the monarchy or millionaires, but they certainly lived an uncommonly comfortable lifestyle. It didn't matter how kind, sensible, or private her parents were, they still had a life unachievable for most.
"When you're a famous actor it's him who'll be ruined." Charlie's blunt remark elicited a familiar grin.
Kat nodded, "He's right. No one can complain about their son being the next James Dean."
Endorsements rang out. Each affirmation nurtured the steady flame re-igniting in his eyes. Neil let out a wild laugh, "I'm going to be in this play even if it kills me."
Charlie studied him, his eyes narrowing as Neil's fervour spilled over the fragile line to feverish. Lately, the passion and drive they loved him for had taken on a frantic edge. The play was arguably the most important moment in his life, Kat thought, the stress was bound to catch up with him at some point.
"Is there a dress code?" Kat pondered the contents of her wardrobe. "I have a floral dress that screams fairyland chic."
Knox looked alarmed, "dress code!? I thought we'd go in uniform?"
"Where do you think you're going!?" Neil sounded scandalised. "I know it's not Broadway, but this is my night, and you'll damn well dress up for it!"
Kat recalled Knox's panic on the night of the Danbury dinner with amusement. "I'm sure we can find you something, Knox."
"You'd better," Neil warned as he stood. "I have to find Keating before curfew, and I want Todd to report some positive dress sense when I get back."
Knox looked appalled. "He's not serious, is he?"
"Buckle up, Knoxious." Nuwanda laughed, "tomorrow you'll be a living doll."
"I guess so," he admitted weakly.
Kat tilted her head. "Can I get that in writing?"
"Shut it," he growled as others howled with laughter. The emerging glee echoed through the dull halls, lightning the remnants of despair left in Mr Perry's wake. In the midst of the merriment, Kat considered the poem Keating had marked for her. And across the school their teacher laid a bookmark on a similar page for another student destined for a bolder, and more substantial fate.
* Whole Duty of Children, Robert Louis Stevenson (1885)
* The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Robert Louis Stevenson (1886)
* Boudicca - A Queen of the British Celtic Iceni tribe who led an uprising against the Roman Empire
* By Blue Ontario's Shore, Leaves of Grass, Walt Whitman (1856, retitled 1867 & 1881)
* Maurice, E.M Forster (written in 1913, published 1971)
* Moby-Dick, Herman Melville (1851)
* Of Mice and Men, John Steinbeck (1937) - Included for us British kids. If you know, you know.
* War and Peace, Leo Tolstoy (1867)
* Manfred, Lord Byron (1817)
* The Castle of Otranto, Horace Walpole (1764)