Baptized By Boys

Chapter Ten

The two of us haven't talked of what happened the other night. The moment in the cave. Yet even if no words have been said, we've shared glances. Sometimes he'll even let his palm linger by my knuckles.

Of course when the both of us are alone, it's a bit different. No words, but more simple touches. Genuinely holding hands, even if most of the time it's under a cover. I've even noticed that we find new ways to touch one another. Even if the touch is nothing but "brushing the dandruff" from his shoulder. Even when there is no dandruff at all.

If someone tells you they've never thought about prying into someone's mind, they are lying. Or maybe I'm just insane. Even if I am insane, I'm not a liar. Taking a peek inside his brain wouldn't be so bad. At least for me. It would be nice to know what he's really thinking for a change. Instead of having to guess and play off what I see. Maybe then I could really help. Only if it were possible.

Not that I would end up doing it. Everyone deserves their privacy. My curiosity is not as important. He isn't my test subject, but instead a human with functioning emotions. I won't ever pry. Not to mention that his parents do that often enough.

Speaking of his parents, tonight is the play and his father has yet to tell him if he's for certain coming. I feel bad. It's given him hella anxiety. All day. At least Mr. Keating seemed to cheer him up during lessons. He kept going on and on about the talented boy and how proud he is of him for going after his dreams. Even said he's willing to take whoever wants to come.

It's refreshing being praised for our dreams, rather than shut down immediately. Most adults have some kind of authority rush, but not him. He is one of the only people who has kept their life worth living. I just hope he stays this way. Forever Keating. The one who strives to be himself and talk his opinions, no matter what.

Honestly it's weird seeing him up and around other teachers here. Many times they seem to put him down too. Just as they do the rest of us. Yet he still stands his ground and preaches the same stuff. Be yourself, be unique, live. I wonder if Keating knows he's changing the world too.

I hope to one day blossom into my own Keating. A man who speaks his mind. A person who never cares if some might think me to be odd. Someone so full of hope and love and wisdom. But also someone who listens to others, and not just when they have something to share or information I want. But to always really listen and learn. Keating says there are lessons to be learnt in every nook and cranny of life. It's up to us to look.

Ever since I heard him say that, I've found myself doing it. Really looking. Sometimes even desperately. Doing anything and everything I can to learn of what it means to be me. To be here, right now. And to learn how to make the most of it. At least as much as possible for someone like me.

We've just arrived and finally I'm able to shake away my snowy coat. The entire car ride was filled with Charlie hanging halfway out the window, Meeks arguing with Pitts, and Keating spewing some life changing, valuable lesson. Which I should have been listening to, but my mind was moving so fast. It's still moving fast. Wracking up with nerves. And I'm not even the one about to perform onstage in front of a whole auditorium full of people. Though I don't think I'm nervous about that.

Instead I'm nervous about the father situation. The one where Neil's dad might show up, but also might not. And I thought my parents were shitty. See, at least mine would be here. Even if they didn't pay attention one bit. Even if they didn't care at all. They'd still come. Because that's what you're supposed to do as a parent. Be present.

I just hope his father does show up. And that I was right. That he finally sees the talent and passion I see. Because if not, then who knows what comes next for Neil. Certainly not a life he's dreamt of.

Neil is onstage and they're nearing an end. I know this because of the few times they'd run it. Only this time is much more authentic and rare. He looks almost desperate, as if he needs us to hear these next words. He moves bold, gaining our attention. In all my years, I've never seen someone so passionate. Someone that can take just one step, but leave everyone on the edge of their seat. Who can take one breath, and leave everyone wondering.

"No more yielding but a dream, Gentles, do not reprehend. If you pardon, we will mend. And as I am an honest Puck, if we have unearned luck now to escape the serpent's tongue, we will make amends. Ere long else the Puck a liar call. So goodnight unto you all. Give me your hands if we be friends. And Robin shall restore amends."

The curtain closes, the audience is silent, too stunned to make a move. But then, after a moment or two, we stand. The entire auditorium stands. In awe and admiration, they gaze upon the curtains with tears welling. Everyone here realizes what rare talent they've just seen. And how this is only the beginning of an amazing journey for this actor.

We'll see him on television, of course. We'll see him everywhere, face printed on the front page of new magazines. If I'm lucky enough, I'll be watching by his side. All his fortune and success. He's bound to succeed. I can feel it.

And when he bows, after the curtain has reopened, his face is at one of the happiest I've seen. Thrilled, rushed, wonderful. Neil is on some kind of high as he searches the crowd with his mouth agape. What a beautiful man. What a beautiful day.

I cheer when he steps, or is pushed, forwards. The whole row of our friends do, including Mr. Keating. Charlie is the loudest, and most obnoxious, of us all. Though, oddly enough, my voice is up there with him.

Eventually the curtains are back to being closed and the crowd outside dies down. People stand and go. Some wait patiently with flowers in their hands. I'm still in shock.

As we make way for the isle, Charlie appears beside me, face full of smiles. I stare cautiously, but that only makes him smile more. "What is it, Dalton?"

"Your little boyfriend is pretty damn talented, huh kid?" His eyebrows bounce, and I whack his side.

Mr. Keating is next to us too, staring back with a painful amount of curiosity. I know I won't be able to lie properly, but I still give it a shot. Even if my pink cheeks are to give me away. "He isn't my boyfriend. Can you keep your voice down?"

"Well if he isn't yours yet, I suggest you put a title on it quick. The girls in the audience are definitely going to pounce first chance they get."

I'm not sure why I look around worriedly, as if I'll be able to spot each and everyone who had been pining over Neil. Now I stop and turn to glare, realizing he had set me up to look a fool. Then I dare to look to Mr. Keating, who only smiles back. That's a shock. And a relief.

We wait for what seems like years until Neil's head makes an appearance. I step forward, but am quickly held back by Charlie, who spots the man leading him out and away. Keating doesn't seem to mind as he hustles to him, us tripping behind. As soon as we make it out, we've got his attention. Only the once happy boy is no more. What could that monster have possibly said to change his mood so fast?

Keating grabs him and keeps him still, going on and on about the pure talent he's just witnessed. Neil finally smiles, but only for a moment until his father is back at his side, trying to rid him away from Keating, who he now begins to argue with.

Our teacher only stands with a frown, watching defeated as Neil is forced to follow. There isn't much he can do, which I understand. There isn't much I can do either, though I wish there was.

Charlie steps up, arms flying in every direction as he throws insults and shouts towards Mr. Perry. I'm the second to step up, though I say nothing at all. Instead I just stare at the boy who I love as he stares back, nervous and scared. My chest aches for him. My heart longs for him. And by the time I'm taking more steps, the car is rushing away.