where all the poets went to die [dead poets society]

4 - her unofficial inauguration

Todd, Neil, Charlie, Knox, Pitts, Meeks, and Cameron walked together with their books in their hands toward the dining hall.

"That was weird," Pitts said.

"But different," Neil said thoughtfully.

"Spooky if you ask me," Knox added.

"Do you think he'll test us on any of that?" Cameron asked, confused about what exactly he had learned in their first English class.

"Oh come on, Cameron," Charlie laughed. "Don't you get anything? The -"

Charlie stopped suddenly, eyes stilling on the girl standing a few steps away from them, a confused look on her face, and her eyes staring firmly at a crinkled piece of paper. He watched her, frozen in step, jostled by the boys who abruptly came to a stop behind him.

"What the hell, Dalton?"

She was dressed in a grey wool skirt, a white cashmere sweater over a white-collared shirt that Charlie had seen peeking up around her neck when he stood behind her during Keating's class. Her hair sat as light curls on her back with a hairband overtop her head. She looked up from the paper and toward the buildings around her, and then looked back at the paper again, still evidently confused.

"It's Keating's niece," Charlie said, nodding toward her. "Maria, right?"

"I believe so," Neil said, looking over. "She looks lost. Probably doesn't know where the dining all is."

"Well, then we should go help her, shouldn't we?" Charlie said, but he had already sauntered toward her. The other boys followed just a few steps behind him.

"Hello, doll."

Maria looked up, startled as a group of boys neared her. They were led by that same boy who had been leaning against the doorframe earlier in her uncle's class. She gave them an awkward smile. "Oh, hello. It's you again."

"Charlie Dalton," the boy said, giving her a broad smile. "You looked lost and so we thought it was in our gentlemanly interest to escort you to the dining hall."

"Oh, well that's rather nice of you, Charlie and..." Maria trailed off, eyeing the boys behind him.

"Neil Perry."

"Knox Overstreet."

"Steven Meeks."

"Gerard Pitts."

"Richard Cameron."

"Todd Anderson."

She nibbled on her bottom lip as they introduced themselves. "I'll try to remember all that," she mumbled. "Though there's quite a few of you so it might take some time."

"You can just remember my name, doll," Charlie said smoothly, lifting a flirty brow at her.

She rolled her eyes at him, already pinning exactly the sort of boy Charlie was. Back at her old school, these were the boys who wore Letterman jackets with a cigarette tucked between their teeth and would whistle as the girls walked past them, giggling into their school books.

Maria reckoned Charlie would've fit right in, imagining a Letterman in place of his current blazer.

"My name's Maria, not Doll," she said pointedly. "Maria Keating."

"We know that," Cameron - she thought - said.

"He means that we remember from Mr. Keating's class," Neil added to try and ease Cameron's rudeness.

Maria tried her best to mirror his kind smile, but she was certain it probably fell quite flat.

"Are you lost?" Neil asked.