𝐉𝐎𝐈𝐄 𝐃𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐕𝐑𝐄, c.d.

𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞

CHAPTER TWELVE | YOU COULD BE
"Don't you think you could be?"

"No! I--I, I don't know, but that's not the point. The, the, the point is that there's nothing you can do about it, so you can just butt out. I can take care of myself just fine. All right?" Cove watched as her tall best friend shook his head, grinning at the boy in front of him, telling him no. "What do you mean, no?"

"No." Neil suddenly grabbed Todd's notebook of poetry and ran across the room with it, Todd leaping up after him.

"Give me-- Neil. Neil, give that back." The two began to race in circles around the room, jumping from bed to bed as Todd tried to grab his poem back. At some point, Cove got up from the bed, chasing after Neil with Todd.

"We are dreaming of a--" Poetry! I'm being chased by Walt Whitman! Okay, okay." Neil quickly dropped the notebook as Cameron walked into the room, holding a textbook.

"What are you guys doing? I'm sure-- You see this chemistry-" Before Cameron could continue talking, Cove grabbed the textbook out of his hand, running to stand on Neil's bed, the four of them racing around the room. "Hey, give me-- Cove, give me-- Don't be immature. Come on. I need my-" Charlie suddenly entered the room and began to wave his hands, Callie gout to Cove, telling her to pass it to him.

"Charlie!"Cove quickly tossed Cameron's book to Charlie, making Cameron scoff.

"Let me have my book, I need my-" The four boys and Cove continued to race around the cramped quarters, tossing Cameron's book back and forth. Neil picked up a recorder, beginning to blow erratic notes into it while Charlie started pounding on a set of bongo drums. Outside the room a crowd of boys watched, the group inside the room laughing.

..........

Keating slowly walked across the field, followed by his students. He kicked a soccer ball ahead of him while he carried a number of other balls in a net slung over his shoulder.

"Now, devotees may argue that one sport or game is inherently better than another. For me, sport is actually a chance for us to have other human beings push us to excel. I want you all to come over here and take a slip of paper and line up single file." Cove lined up in front of Charlie, his arm snaked around her waist as they watched their teacher. The older man reached the stands, tossing the soccer balls aside and setting his briefcase down. As the students lined up, he began ripping off slips of paper from a notepad and handed them out. "Mr. Meeks, time to inherit the earth. Mr. Pitts, rise above your name." He handed a paper to another student before getting to Cove and Charlie. The two teens looked at the papers, deciding to switch with each other as grins sat stupidly on their faces.

..........

The students all lined up in single file, each holding a slip of paper as Mr. Keating blew his whistle.

"You know what to do, Pitts." The tall boy nodded his head as he read his paper aloud. Mr. Keating scoffed, telling the boy he sounded daunted, telling him to speak louder.

"Oh to struggle against great odds. To meet enemies undaunted." Pitts looked to his teacher, who grinned and nodded his head, telling him to go on. The boy smiled as he strides towards the ball in front of him, kicking it into the empty net.

"Yes! Next."

"To be a sailor of the world, bound for all ports." The man nodded his head as the boy kicked the ball, telling the next person to be louder. Mr. Keating walked over to the bench, starting up a record player as the next boy reads his paper.

"To mount the scaffolds. To advance to the muzzle of guns with perfect nonchalance." Classical music began to play on the phonograph as Meeks read next, confused by the music.

"Come on, Meeks! Listen to the music." Cove chuckled as she watched her friend read, her arms crossed over her chest as she leaned into Charlie, who hadn't let her go.

"To dance, clap hands, exalt, shout, skip, roll on, float on."

"Oh, to have life henceforth the poem of new joys." Hopkins crumpled up his paper and moved towards the ball in front of him, barely tapping the soccer ball with his foot. Mr. Keating watched with a look of disgust plastered on his face.

"Oh! Boo! Come on, Cove."

"Oh, I live to be the ruler of life, not a slave."

"Yes! Come on, Charlie, let it fill your soul!" Charlie raised his hands over his head as he read from the paper, his friends smiling on the side lines. As soon as Cove read the paper her classmate had given her, she knew it had Charles Dalton written all over it.

"To indeed be a god!"