Neil had always sucked at reading maps. As he swatted Todd's shoulder, informing his roommate of his inclusion (whether he liked it or not), Neil felt his left eye twitch. Oh, please let me know where I'm going. Signal the others in the hallway. Ignore Hager's curious eyes following him into his room.
Luckily, the crotchety man's attentions were diverted by the kazoo in the bathroom: "Cut out that racket in there." A rude note. Todd ducked his head and brushed his way out of the washroom, not wanted to be affiliated with the noise-makers. He saw Cameron give Neil a thumbs-up just before his roommate closed their door. Pausing awkwardly, Todd stared at the small placards baring his name and Neil's. My room, too. With a hard swallow, he opened the door quietly and padded in.
At his desk, Neil held open a hefty tome, a grin on his face.
Todd managed a smile, too. "Going to read your trig to us?"
Neil wheeled around, alarmed by the obscenely quiet other boy. Good. Todd should be able to sneak out with them just fine. "Todd! Check this out." He thrust the book, open to Keating's handwriting, into Todd's hands. "The man's a genius. He knew all along, the sly devil." Neil giggled his giddiness out of his system. He wanted to be extra-cool tonight; Dead Poet leaders probably didn't giggle, and he needed to set a good example if he was to get the guys to agree to this sort of thing on a regular basis.
As his roommate checked his flashlight battery once more and debated the laughing habits of Whitman (and Keating), Todd ran his right index finger down the page: I wanted to live deliberately…
"This is wrong."
Neil turned back around. "What?"
Todd glanced up, wide-eyed. Oops. He hadn't meant to say that. "N-nothing." He closed the book and handed it back. Neil's curious eyes expected more.
"No, what did you mean?"
Mouth dry, Todd backed into his own desk, turned around, and pretended to busy himself with arranging his scholastic literature. "N-nothing. It's just… the quote. I mean, i-it's nice, but it isn't a direct quote. All from the same part, though. So it doesn't matter."
"How do you know that?"
"I've r-read it."
Neil held back a hoot. Hooting during quiet hours was generally frowned upon. "And you have it memorized? Todd! You're brilliant! You're the next Mister Keating!" He playfully tugged Todd's neck, putting him into a headlock, and ruffled his roommate's hair. Torn between freezing until the moment was over and attempting to fight back, Todd decided on nudging an elbow into Neil's ribs with a shy laugh.
"Ge'roff," the blond mumbled, secretly loving the attention. With one final ruffle, the grinning Neil retreated, gathered his travel robes, brand-new old book, and flashlight, and perched on his bed for the designated time. Hopefully Charlie had gotten the canine treats, or Mitchell, the snitching golden retriever would cause trouble for the Dead Poet Society and they'd be… well, dead.
Twenty-three minutes later, Neil waved Todd to the door before turning off their light and poking his head out. Charlie, across the hall, grinned back.
Time for some thrilling heroics.
One by one, the boys crept down the hallway toward the stairs, pausing to clatter a handful of treats onto the floor for Mitch-the-Snitch before descending the staircase. Neil and Charlie led the way, followed by Meeks, Cameron, and Todd, with Knox and Pitts closing doors softly behind them.
Just before they went around the corner before the doors to the courtyard, Neil stopped suddenly, holding up a hand to silence the others. Charlie slammed into him, and he dropped the flashlight.
"What'd you stop for?" Charlie hissed. Meeks sighed behind him.
Neil turned to glare through the dark at the half-silhouette of his friend. "I heard something, which has now definitely heard us, thanks to you."
"Guys, shut up," Cameron panicked.
"Telling someone to shut up doesn't work half so much as actually shutting up," Pitts informed him in a whisper-shout. He should have stayed in bed.
Once the boys managed to stop bickering long enough to discern any other sounds, only the distant rustling of a dog's licking itself could be heard echoing down the stairwell. Exhaling shakily, Neil stepped around the corner.
And ran into a wall.
The wall gasped and stumbled backward.
Shaking his head (which hadn't been hit by the… short wall?), Neil peered into the shadows. A Cheshire-grin in the moonlight, vaguely surrounded by a pale face, greeted him. The figure stepped into the light from the window.
"Lizzy?"
The girl wheezed a quiet giggle. "You boys should never lead lives of crime. You'd never make it."
"What are you doing down here?" He felt the others join him around the corner of the wall.
Elizabeth, dressed half in nightclothes and half in the school uniform, held her hands behind her back and adopted an innocent gaze. "Nothing. You?"
Neil glanced behind him at the others, stunned silent, dressed in their outdoor cloaks. Neil still grasped Five Centuries of Verse and a flashlight. He stared back. "Nothing."
Pause.
"Okay. See you guys later."
"Yeah. See you."
Nobody moved.
Elizabeth turned abruptly and headed back in the other direction, despite the fact it was the entire opposite from the way she wanted.
The boys made their way outside and shook of their confusion into the cool air nibbling their ears. Night-dew on the grass kicked up into a vapor of rebellion. By the time they found the cave, no one remembered the girl creeping around the first floor of Hell-ton.