"Why do I stand up here? Anybody?" Keating asked the class that morning after leaping up onto his desk.

"To feel taller," Charlie crowed from the back.

"No!" Keating tapped the bell on his desk with his shoe. "But thank you for playing, Mr. Dalton. I stand upon my desk to remind you that we must constantly look at things in a different way."

"You see, the world looks very different from up here. You don't believe me? Come see for yourself. Come on. Come on!"

Charlie and Neil quickly rose from their seats to go to the front of the classroom - always the two most eager of Keating's students to participate in his antics. The rest of the class followed and while Keating continued his lesson and Neil and Charlie joined him on the desk.

Maria stretched her neck to look up at both boys and smiled at them when they grinned down and wiggled their brows at her playfully.

And then Keating jumped down. "Just when you think you know something, you have to look at it in another way. Even though it may seem silly or wrong, you must try! Now, when you read, don't just consider what the author thinks. Consider what you think."

Neil and then Charlie made a spectacle of jumping down after him, bowing dramatically when they stuck their landings.

"Boys and girl, you must strive to find your own voice. Because the longer you wait to begin, the less likely you are to find it at all," he looked pointedly at Todd and Maria who stood somewhere near the end of the line. "Thoreau said, 'Most men lead lives of quiet desperation.' Don't be resigned to that. Break out!"

Other boys followed suit, stepping onto the desk and stepping down.

"Don't just walk off the edge like lemmings. Look around you," Keating said after Spaz and another boy jumped off the desk immediately after stepping onto it. He nodded at the next few students when they took their time to survey the room. "There! Dare to strike out and find new ground."

It was soon Maria's turn to step on the desk. She mentally thanked herself for deciding to go with pants today and forego her usual choice of skirts and let out a quick breath as she looked around the room from her new height. The desk wasn't awfully tall and standing on it didn't exactly give the best vantage point, but still, it was different - it was a new perspective. The desks looked so much smaller from where she stood, the notes on her desk completely illegible. She quirked her head to the side, holding in a giggle, when she saw Knox waving up at her.

"What do you feel up there, Maria?" Keating asked her.

She looked over at her uncle. "Like I should be reciting Romeo and Juliet," she said.

"Well, please do us the pleasure," Keating urged.

Maria rolled her eyes but she was feeling something deep within. Something unexplainable - something that filled her with jittery energy and something that felt inherently like her father. Perhaps she had really taken to heart the things she had read from him. She jested dramatically, placing a hand on her chest:

"O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?

Deny thy father and refuse thy name;

Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,

And I'll no longer be a Capulet."

Keating and her friends applauded her quickly and she giggled, feeling giddy. This felt fun - this felt so much fun.

"Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?"

Maria froze, turning to see that Charlie had strolled up to the side of the desk and was looking up at her expectantly. She blinked in disbelief - had he just... had he just quoted Romeo and Juliet to her?

"Go on, Maria," Keating whispered-shouted from where he had taken a seat on the edge of Maria's desk.

Maria looked down at Charlie, question filling her gaze, and when he smirked at her, his eyebrow flicking upwards for just a second, her heart fluttered, quickening its pace in her chest. She swallowed:

"'Tis but thy name that is my enemy;

Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.

What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot.

Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part

Belonging to a man. O, be some other name!

What's in a name? that which we call a rose

By any other name would smell as sweet;

So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd,

Retain that dear perfection which he owes

Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name,

And for that name which is no part of thee

Take all myself."

Charlie's flirty smirk had changed into a softer sort of look, a look that Maria was certain she hadn't seen before. His usual suave, cocky look was replaced with something that made Maria's stomach flutter and then his gaze locked on her and he continued:

"I take thee at thy word;

Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized;

Henceforth I never will be Romeo."

He finished softly and held his hand out to help her down.

Maria's breath hitched in her throat when she dropped her hand into his. For a moment there, she forgot that they were in a classroom with other students, with her uncle, and with their friends who would no doubt be teasing them about this for days to come.

It was just her and Charlie.

It seemed Charlie felt that too because he squeezed her fingers lightly, his eyes searching her face, flicking between her mouth and her eyes - her eyes then her mouth - her lips.

God, what would it feel like to be kissed by Charlie Dalton?

"Bravo! Brava!" Keating clapped loudly, jolting the both of them out of their trance.

Maria blushed crimson, eyes darting away from Charlie's intense brown dark brown eyes as she leapt down from the desk and pulled her hand out of Charlie's grasp quickly. She smoothed her hands, now clammy and shaking, against the fabric of her pants and let out a shuddering breath. She cleared her throat, a little embarrassed and a little overwhelmed, and shot a strained smile to no one in particular before scurrying over to her desk.

She let out a couple of breaths, feeling the thud of her heart so clearly as if her heart was in her ears. She wrung her fingers together as she came to stand beside her uncle and winced when she caught the glowing smile Knox was throwing at her.

"What do you think, my dear?" Keating's voice dropped into a whisper that only reached her ears. "Is Shakespeare on par with Lord Bryon?"

If it were physically possible, Maria would've blushed even harder than she already was.

Charlie Dalton had quoted Romeo and Juliet to - no, with her - and goodness, Maria wanted to run to her room, press her face into her pillow and shriek with giddy delight. Goodness, was this how her mother had felt when her father would quote Lord Byron to her - like she had swallowed a whole garden of butterflies that now danced in her stomach?

She chanced a look at him. He was standing to the side, eyes cast downward toward the wooden floor, his hands tucked deep into his pockets, but there was the faintest - the softest - of smiles on his face. Not the coy, cocky, smirky sort of smile he always gave her, but a boyish one that made him all the more handsome.

Oh goodness, Maria gulped as the realization finally sunk in - Knox had been right.

The school bell rang, cutting her moment of contemplation short.

Her uncle stood to his feet, moving to begin gathering his stuff to leave the room. "Right, now in addition to your essays, I would like you to compose a poem of your own, an original work."

The students in the class groaned loudly and Keating moved to flicker the lights on and off while chanting ominously. "That's right! You have to deliver it aloud in front of the class on Monday. Bonne chance!"

And with that, he stepped out into the hall.

"So..." Knox had appeared at Maria's side in seconds and knocked his elbow against hers.

"Don't you dare, Knox Overstreet," Maria said, still a little dazed out.

Just then, Keating poked his head back into the classroom again just as Todd had stepped onto the desk and was about to jump off. "Mr. Anderson?"

Todd physically lurched, staring wide-eyed at the teacher who had seemingly just appeared again out of nowhere.

Keating grinned at Todd. "Don't you think I don't know what this assignment scares the hell out of you, you mole," he said and promptly flicked the lights off.

••●••

Up on the campus rooftop, Maria could make out the rowing team practicing on the lake. She knew that somewhere among the rowers was Charlie.

"Distance making the heart grow fonder?" Knox asked teasingly, joining her side.

"I hate you," Maria mumbled, but with no real conviction.

Knox rolled his eyes and nudged Maria's arm with his. "Wanna talk about it?"

"Why?" Maria said, meeting his gaze with a huff. "So you can tell me 'I told you so'?"

Knox grinned. "I did tell you so," he said pointedly and laughed when she shot him a dirty look. "What? There's nothing wrong about liking someone?"

When Maria didn't say anything in reply, Knox suddenly straightened. "Wait, have you ever liked anyone before?" He asked, wide-eyed. "Is that why you're so..." he gestured to her, "resistant to it?"

"I am not resistant," Maria scoffed. "And what do you think I am, Knox Overstreet? I want to a public high school, not a convent school to become a nun."

Knox snorted at that. "Then what's the problem?" Knox said and then his voice softened when Maria's face dropped. "Hey, Maria, you can tell me anything. We're friends, remember?"

Maria hesitated for a moment, not entirely sure how to put her thoughts together and then she shrugged. "I don't know, Knox," she whispered. "I'm just scared."

"Of Charlie?"

"Yes? No?" Maria mumbled. "I don't know. I just don't know, Knox."

Knox didn't say anything for a moment and then he threw his arm over Maria's shoulder and gave her a hug. "It's okay to be scared," he mumbled against her hair before letting her go. "I'm here to support you."

Maria smiled softly. "Really?"

Knox nodded firmly. "I'm your friend, Maria Keating. Of course, I'm going to support you."

Maria smiled. "You're my friend too, Knox Overstreet."

"As if you had a choice," Knox scoffed playfully. "Look at us, the lovesick ninnies."

Maria laughed and hit him on the arm playfully. "I hate you."

"Nah, you love me."

Maria rolled her eyes.

Suddenly the noisy static from Meeks and Pitts makeshift radio stopped abruptly and music blared from the speakers. Meeks and Pitts froze, staring at each other with wide eyes and open mouths.

"Oh my gosh," Maria gasped. "Meeks, Pitts, you guys did it!"

"Way to go!" Knox yelled out as the sound of music filled the rooftop.

Meeks lurched into action, shaking Pitts with violent joy. "We got it, Pittsie. We got it! Radio Free America!" He yelled and grabbed hold of Pitts to start dancing.

Maria laughed as Knox began twirling her and the four of them danced to the music.

••●••

Todd sat on his bed, trying to write a poem. The door opened and Todd quickly turned his writing pad over as Neil entered the room laughing giddily.

"Todd!" Neil's face glowed with glee as he crouched down next to Todd's bed and placed a sheet of paper on Todd's lap. "I found it!"

"You found what?"

"What I wanna do right now. What's really, really inside me."

Todd read the sheet of paper. "'A Midsummer Night's Dream'?"

"This is it," Neil said definitely.

"What is this?"

"It's a play, dummy," Neil laughed.

"I know that. I- What does it have to do with you?"

"Right. They're putting it on at Henley Hall. Open tryouts. Open tryouts!"

"Yes, so?" Todd asked, still not understanding.

Neil pounded on the bed and then pulled a blanket off his bed, wearing it like a cloak around him. "So, I'm gonna act. Yes, yes! I'm gonna be an actor!" Neil said in excitement. "Ever since I can remember, I've wanted to try this. I even tried to go to summer stock auditions last year, but, of course, my father wouldn't let me. For the first time in my whole life, I know what I wanna do."

Neil grabbed a handful of papers off Todd's bed and tossed them into the air in a flourish. "And for the first time, I'm gonna do it whether my father wants me to or not!" He jumped around the room a couple of times before grabbing hold of Todd by his shoulders and leaning in close to his face. "Carpe diem!"

"Neil, Neil, hold on a minute," Todd called out when Neil let him go to bounce around the room again. "How are you gonna be in a play if your father won't let you?"

"First, I gotta get the part, then I can worry about that."

"Yea, but won't he kill you if he finds out you went to an audition and didn't even tell him?"

"No, no, no, no. As far as I'm concerned, he won't have to know about any of this."

"Well, that's impossible."

"Well, why don't you just call him and ask him? And maybe he'll say yes," Todd suggested.

"That's a laugh," Neil cackled, tossing the blanket back onto his bed. "If I don't ask him, at least I won't be disobeying him."

"Yeah, but if he said-"

"Jesus, Todd! Whose side are you on?" Neil whirled around angrily at him.

Todd said nothing.

Neil looked away for a moment and then took the flyer back from Todd. He walked over to the window, his excitement gone. "I mean, I haven't even gotten the part yet. Can't I even enjoy the idea for a little while?"

Once again, Todd said nothing. After a moment, Neil sat on the heater and Todd returned to his poem, something about the air felt thick and uncomfortable like they had just had a fight and weren't sure how to resolve it.

"You're coming to the meeting this afternoon?" Neil asked.

"I don't know. Maybe," Todd said.

"Nothing Mr. Keating has to say means shit to you, does it, Todd?" Neil stared at him.

"W-what is that supposed to mean?"

"You're in the club! Being in the club means being stirred up by things. You look about as stirred up as a cesspool," Neil got up from the window to stand over Todd.

"So- You want me out?" Todd asked stiffly.

"No!" Neil said, reaching for Todd's shoulders again. He shook him lightly. "I want you in, but being in means you gotta do something. Not just say you're in."

"Well, listen Neil. I appreciate this concern, but I'm not you. All right? You, you, you say things and people listen. I'm, I'm not like that."

"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?" Todd shot an expectant look at Neil.

He already knew how this would play out because this was how it always went with Todd's friends. They'd try so hard to get him out of his shell, to get him to join them, to be one of them, and always, they'd figure out their efforts did nothing. That no matter, Todd was this loser who was sitting so comfortably in his shell of social awkwardness that it wasn't worth trying to pull him out any longer.

They'd just stop being friends with him - that was easier.

The group would just stop being friends with him.

Neil would stop being friends with him and that tugged at his chest painfully.

The thought of that actually hurt.

Todd braced himself for Neil's answer, but was shocked when Neil just looked at him and said, "No."

Todd blinked. "What do you mean, 'no'?"

A smile crossed Neil's face. "No."

He lunged forward, grabbing Todd's notebook and running across the room with it.

Todd leaped up. "Give me- Neil. Neil, give that back!"

They raced around the room, running in circles and jumping from bed to bed as Todd tried to grab his notebook back.

"'We are dreaming of a-' Poetry!" Neil exclaimed gleefully, swiftly dodging Todd's arm. "I'm being chased by Walt Whitman! Okay, okay!"

Neil dropped the notebook.

Cameron walked into the room. "What are you guys doing? I-"

Neil snatched whatever book it was that Cameron had in his hands and suddenly all three of them were racing around the room.

"Hey! Give me- Neil, give me- Don't be immature. Come on. I need my-"

Charlie entered the room, waving his hands in the air when he realized that a game of monkey-in-the-middle had ensued. "Give it to me! Give it to me!"

"Charlie, here!" Neil tossed the book over to Charlie who caught it readily.

"Let me have my book, I need my-"

The four boys continued racing around the cramped quarters, tossing Cameron's book back and for between them. Neil paused momentarily to grab a recorder and began blowing erratic notes on it while Charlie found some bongo drums and began playing along.

Todd stood there, in the middle of his room, breathless and with a giant smile on his face.

He had always dreamed of a world like this.