FIVE

The week lazily flew by. October had managed to get the job at the library and find out that her hostess' favorite treat was the lavender shortbread, if the number of related canisters in the pantry was anything to go by. That was why she had baked some for her. The old woman hadn't said a word of course, but October was sure she had spotted some watery eyes.

Her days were being peaceful and easy, letting her live the life she had always craved for. It wouldn't last, she knew that, so she was just enjoying everything around her as much as she could. And if he, too, had to be part of that temporary picture… Well, so much the better.

With each passing day, Charlie had tried to do his best to pay even less attention to his classes, with the only exception of Mr. Keating's, who kept on pouring wisdom and hope and awareness into his boys' souls. A slip of paper had been pinned to his dorm room wall for the past few days, to remind him that he could indeed be a god. Considering, a goddess needs a god, doesn't she? And that specific goddess was all he could think of. He didn't want to seduce her. He wanted to impress her. He wanted to show her he was not a spoiled brat.

Another scrap next to the first one displayed the verses he had written right after their meeting, to fulfill Mr. Keating's assignment.

In a world that swallows and then spews us endlessly,
your dazzling outline stands out fiercely.
If you could disrobe all of my inner layers,
you'd find the core of a bohemian warrior;
drift with me, be my savior:
that's the constant content of my new prayers.

Mr. Keating hadn't had the time to listen to all of the poems, so Charlie hadn't read it aloud in front of the class. After all, that was clearly a task for the shyest students, and he could be anything but shy. Mr. Keating had just intended to break some shells. Like Todd's. God, that had been something. And what about Hopkins? He had tried to be the usual deadbeat, but Mr. Keating had reacted with his natural class, and even Hopkins had looked embarrassed. That teacher was the best thing that ever happened to them. After having collected the rest of the unread poems to check them, he had returned Charlie's with a note.

Whoever this person is, I hope he or she is aware of the truth, as I do and you do, that there's more to you than meets the eye. Good job, Mr. Dalton.

Charlie had felt his chest fill with pride. Mr. Keating had got him. Not even his friends knew him that deep, although he truly loved them. Sometimes you just have to stick with your character, right? That was why he kept his innermost part for himself. He didn't care about the rest of the world, his parents included. But October was another story. She deserved to fathom who he was. And that was the reason why he was throwing all of his clothes on his bed, in the groundless hope to find something suitable for his afternoon with her.

"Searching for earrings that match your complexion, princess?" an approaching Knox mocked him, leaning against the doorpost.

"Very funny, Overstreet. Lend me your navy scarf instead, would ya?"

Knox went to retrieve the item from his own drawer, then came back and tossed it on Charlie's desk, sitting comfortably on the opposite chair.

"Where's Cameron?"

"Naked in front of a mirror trying to tell apart his nut from his head, I guess. Do you think she likes ice cream?"

"Everybody likes ice cream. Are you trying to soften her?" Knox asked.

"No, Knoxious, I just want to see if she's good at licking something big, if you know what I mean."

"You're disgusting" Knox stated, choking on his laughter. Charlie snickered, still rummaging through his shirts and jackets.

Knox studied his back for a while, glad and pleasantly surprised to see him so wrapped up. They had known each other since they were whining toddlers, and he couldn't remember a single time Charlie had actually spent time grooming himself for a girl. He usually went with the flow, being the natural charmer he was. Knox knew he was not a jerk, he just hadn't started to see girls as life partners yet. He regularly got them out of the blue, sometimes forgetting their names straight after their meetings, always sneaking out by night. And now? An afternoon stroll? In the daylight with her? That was hot news. This October was obviously different. Probably because she was older. That could be a real tragedy, resulting in his first heartbreak, or maybe exactly what he needed. In both cases, it seemed to be kind of a turning point.

While lost in these thoughts, something caught his attention.

"You do like her" Knox remarked accordingly.

"If I didn't, I wouldn't waste my time with her" Charlie retorted, bent over his bed.

"That's not what I mean."

"Then what?"

"That" Knox just answered, forcing Charlie to raise his eyes from the clothes he was still sorting through and take a look at what his mate was talking about. Knox was pointing at the scraps on the wall. Charlie shifted his pupils back to his friend, momentarily speechless. They looked at each other for a split second, then Charlie parted his lips to speak, but Knox stood up cutting him off, smiled and patted the other boy's shoulder, heading for the door and secretly hoping he would be luckier than himself with Chris.

"Have fun, pal."

Thanks to the usual and tested technique – loiter, check, run – Charlie had successfully escaped through the gates and was hurtling along the road leading downtown. It was still warm outside, and the foliage was gently swinging on the trees, dyeing it all in yellows and oranges, reminding him of apple cider and fireplaces. Due to the rush, the landscape was blurred, hence giving the feeling of an impressionist painting. An invaluable piece of art. Like her. He felt the adrenaline increase and pushed harder on the pedals, soon reaching the town, ready to willingly wait forever for her to finish tarting herself up just like any other girl. However, unlike any other girl – of course, you idiot – she was already there. And when he spotted her on the curb, he slammed on the brakes to avoid an accident, and swallowed hard.

She was wearing a red blouse and a white button skirt, shorter than he had ever seen before. He could see her calves, her knees, and a good part of her thighs. And, unless he was blundering, those were Converse All Star shoes. A girl with Converse sneakers combined with a short skirt. How peculiar. Not a single eye from passers-by was off her. She also had a belt, a cardigan held by both of her hands in front of her pelvis and a french beret at a rakish angle, all black-hued. She was so unconventionally stunning, being like nothing else on earth. Could an abstract concept have an erection? Because his soul was definitely having it.

She spotted him as well and a smile lit up her features. She looked completely at ease. Of course. She was a woman. She was confident. She needed a man up to her. And he had every intention of being that man.

Had she made a huge mistake in buying that knee-length skirt and cutting it in the middle, leaving the edge so frayed? She knew it would be a hazard, but did people really have to stare at her that way? Get a life.

Bloody hell, she was so nervous she could bite her nails up to her elbows. She had been trying to breathe deeply and regularly to calm herself down, but those fucking butterflies seemed to be having a party in her stomach. What are you, fifteen?! But she was about to meet Charlie-bloody-Dalton, who had picked her out of any other girl he could have had, and she was about to freak out. But she couldn't. He needed a proper woman who could make him blossom, not a puddle of sugary water like she felt at the moment. Get a grip on yourself, girl, she thought, then balled her hands up into fists and took a deep breath. When she opened her previously closed eyes, she saw him turn around the corner on his bike. Her pulse increased. Fucking hell, he was too good to be true. She flashed a smile in his direction. She would die before showing him her real feelings.

A/N: I'd like to dedicate this chapter to Jess, since she's been so kind to read and leave the very first review. Thanks ^^

For those who are wondering about Charlie's poem, it's a botch I made up… So don't be too harsh :D