WE ARE GOLDEN--DEAD POETS SOCIETY

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Neil came rampaging down the hall the minute the mail came, a wide grin plastered across his face. 

"I got the part!" He yelled, nearly running over Knox and Scarlett.

"Charlie, I got the part! I'm gonna play Puck!"

"Good for you, Neil!"

"Great job, Neil!"

Neil raced to his room where he knew Todd was waiting on tenterhooks. 

"So?" he asked.

"I got it!" Neil yelled, grabbing Todd into a tight embrace. Moving to his desk, he sat down in front of his typewriter.

"Okay, okay."

"Neil, how are you gonna do this?" Todd asked, sitting down on Neil's bed. 

"They need a letter of permission from my father and Mr. Nolan."

"You're not gonna write it," Camille said, overhearing and entering the room. 

"Oh yes, I am."

Neil was grinning, almost maniacally as he began to type. 

"Okay. 'I am writing to you on behalf of my son, Neil Perry.'"

--------------------------------

"Do you think his dad will find out?" Camille asked Todd as he walked with her back to her dorm.

The shy boy sighed heavily, eyes downcast. 

"I hope not."

"What are you two moping about?"

Charlie stuck his head out into the hall, smirk in place. 

"Neil's dad."

The smirk fell off the cocky boy's face instantly.

"Yeah, no shit," he muttered, walking on Camille's other side. "If he finds out..."

Camille elbowed him, gesturing towards Todd. The boy was walking in a worried daze, eyes unfocused. Charlie, for once in his life, stopped talking. 

"Well, this is my room," Camille said. She hugged them both goodnight and entered her dorm. 

"Hey," she muttered. 

"What's up with you?"

"Nothing."

"Yeah, and pigs can fly," Scarlett scoffed. She pulled Camille down next to her, so close their thighs were touching. 

"Talk."

Camille sighed. 

"Have you ever cared so much about someone you'd do anything to prevent them from getting hurt?" she asked.

It was Scarlett's turn to sigh. 

"Yeah," she whispered.

"That's how I feel about Neil. And his parents...I don't know."

"Cami, you have to tell him how you feel. Before its too late."

"What?"

Scarlett was moodily picking at her nails, eyes squinted. 

"You know what I mean, Cami."

"Scar..."

"Hm."

"What are you talking about?"

The blonde girl laughed without any real humor in her eyes.

"If you're not going to own up to it, never mind. C'mon, let's go study with Meeks and Azalea."

She stood up, but this time it was Camille pulling Scarlett back down.

"Tell me, Scar. What do you mean, 'tell him how I feel'? He's my friend, I would feel the same way about anyone's parents if they were like his."

"Whatever," Scarlett grumbled. 

Camille stared at her friend quizzically. What was her problem?

"Something's bothering you still. Tell me, please Scarlett."

"Ah, full name. Am I in trouble?" the blonde teased, but she still looked downcast. "Tell you what, I'll write a poem about it just for you and read at the meeting. How's that sound?"

Cami bounced happily and stood up, pulling Scarlett with her.

"Let's hope Azalea and Meeks are actually studying and not making out. I swear to god, I'f I walk in on them one more time..."