Note: I realized after I wrote the last chapter that Chet Danbury's mom wasn't dead in the movie. However, I think that this was so minor a detail that it really doesn't matter. I mean, Mr. Danbury could have remarried or something. Plus, I've changed so many other things around, right? I mean, shouldn't Neil be dead by now? So I don't think it matters too much.

I first noticed that Jillian's mind was somewhere… well, not in the dining hall when she tried to bite down on her glass of water. I hoped that she was thinking about me, or at least not some other guy that she was interested in. A boyfriend from Henley High? It was possible. She'd never really disclosed any information about her love life. But I doubted it. She didn't seem the type. I couldn't imagine her with a boyfriend.

But then I thought back to us – me and her, sitting and laughing. I could picture that easily. I wondered what people would think of us dating. I wondered if she was allowed to date. It didn't seem like the kind of rule that Nolan would make. He tended to skirt around bigger issues, things that made him uncomfortable. The way he saw it, if he didn't bring it up, the idea probably wouldn't occur to us. Seventeen year old boys – what did we know? How could we possibly think of something so original, so wrong, that it would require a rule to stop us from doing it? To him we were four year old boys up until we did something wrong. Then we became seventeen year olds again, because his punishments wouldn't probably leave a four year old sobbing or in the emergency room.

No, Nolan probably didn't forbid Jillian to date. But I couldn't rule out other things standing in our way. For one, if there even was an "us". Or if Jillian would give up her life free of "distractions" to date me. If she was interested in anyone else. If she had a boyfriend. If anyone else here might be competing for her attention.

I was looking forward to the study session tonight. I would have been happier had it just been us, but I had screwed that up for tonight so I would work with what I had. I tried to imagine how Jillian would fit in: she would probably laugh and smile a lot, like she did when she was around my friends. She would try to get some work done but everyone was hopeless with Latin except me so we would probably have to work by ourselves, which I was fine with. She would probably help Knox or Todd with Trig – maybe Charlie, if he was acting extra charming.

I thought through the night. Study session until about nine. Then maybe I could bring Jillian to my room and we could work on Latin together. Then I'd fall asleep dreaming about her, and her smile, and her eyes, and that smirk she only uses on me, and… oh. The Meeting. I'd totally forgotten.

I always looked forward to our Dead Poets meetings. For me, they were the only source of life in my dull, boring existence. Mr. Keating was right – I didn't want to be confined to this everyday routine. I wanted to go out and make something of myself. I knew I did. And the only way to really express that was in the cave.

But now there was another source of life, an energy, a heartbeat thumping near mine, so close I could hear it, so close I could feel the body heat radiating off the body. I could live off of that body heat, live off that smile and that heartbeat.

Jillian allowed me to express myself without having to say anything. The jealousy, the warmth riding up my cheeks, the subtle act of putting my hand over hers – that was feeling, emotion I wasn't allowed to let out in my mundane life.

I wanted Jillian with me at the meetings. I wanted her opinion of the poems I had written. I wanted her approval of what we were doing. I wanted her to tell me that this was such a great idea, this Dead Poets Society, and that I was what she had always wanted – someone who cared enough about life not to let it slip away.

And who knew? Maybe she was Dead Poet material.

I met Neil in his room for the study group. I still wasn't sure how much I could possibly get done if no one else in the class understood Latin enough to get an A, but I figured it would be good to socialize and make the school a little smaller. If that was possible. I mean, I came from a huge public high school to an all boys boarding school. How much smaller could you get?

"So, Jillian," Charlie said to me, his voice dripping with charm. "How are you enjoying Hell-ton so far?"

"Clever," I told him. "And I actually don't mind it here. It's different, but… it's nice. It's a challenge, I suppose, and I'm always up for a new challenge."

I had revealed too much about myself, I realized. It was just a transition question; Charlie didn't actually care about my thoughts. He just wanted to be able to move smoothly into a conversation that would lead to me falling madly in love with him or something – or at least get me into his bed. I knew how guys these days thought. And unfortunately I had given him the perfect transition.

"Well, Jillian, it seems we have something in common."

I raised my eyebrows. He continued: "See, I too, love a good challenge. Important matters, trivial matters – if it's difficult, I'm on it." He smiled widely. "I sense that there's something else connecting us, however. A bond. A special bond. I think that our love of facing challenges will soon lead us to face the challenge of exposing our feelings for each other – and winning each others' hearts."

"I don't think that winning your heart would be too difficult," I said.

"Would you want to test that theory?"

"Not now," I said. "I've got some other matters to attend to." I tried to turn away but Charlie stepped in front of me, a smirk on his face.

"Another man?" he said, a look of mock-dramatic distress on his face. "You have feelings for another? How could this be?"

"I never said that," I said. My heart was thumping wildly. "Besides if I did, it would be none of your business." I looked at him, daring him to speak, but he just opened his textbook like he hadn't really cared all along.

"Jillian," he said. "Are we going to get started on homework or what?" I smiled and sat down. That was when I realized something – Charlie actually wasn't a bad guy. In fact, I think we could be friends.

We continued like this for an hour – chatting and laughing and doing homework. I could get used to this, I thought.