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Birthdays made Todd Anderson nervous.

From a young age, the fear of everybody paying attention to him used to get to his head. As the crowd would stand around the table, prepared to sing an off-key birthday song, Todd would begin to feel an anxious pit in his stomach. They all leered at him; distant relatives who gave hugs that felt suffocating, friends of his father who attended purely for social reasons, and, if he was fortunate, perhaps he’d have a friend in attendance. The crowd was too much, too close. Too many pairs of eyes staring him down. Too many questions, comparisons, and backhanded insults.

Do you feel any older yet? What are your plans this year? How is school going? You know, when Jeffrey was your age…

Ah, and there it was. The dreaded statement. Every year, the suffix of the statement changed.

Jeffrey was valedictorian at your age! You know, Jeffrey was captain of the soccer team. Jeffrey had his first girlfriend at your age!

God, how it made Todd want to run and hide.

Letters from his parents became scarce once he started attending Balincrest. Birthdays were no exception. Since boisterous social parties were no longer a requirement for him, birthdays no longer bothered him as much. He’d carry on about his day and not tell any of his classmates. Inevitably, he’d receive a half-planned gift from his parents. He would stare blankly at it for a minute or two, before brushing it aside and going to study.

One year, his final year at Balincrest, his roommate had caught on. His roommate was a nice boy that Todd had grown quite fond of. Sweet and kind, but not overbearing in the slightest. That day was the first time Todd had told anyone at school about his birthday, though it hadn’t been intentional. He was staring at the gift from his parents—a navy blue sweater—when his roommate asked where he had gotten it. Todd was too tired to lie.

The half-hearted “happy birthday” felt fake, like it was an obligation to say it. Was there any true meaning behind it? Todd knew that he’d be paired with a new roommate next year. This boy would not remember another one of Todd’s birthdays after this night. Little did Todd know, he wouldn’t be in attendance at Balincrest the coming year.

Todd could’ve never predicted anything that happened during his first semester at Welton, nor could he have expected a roommate like Neil Perry.

When Neil had seen the contents of the brown package, he was not oblivious to what it meant. He knew that it was the same desk set. Yet, there wasn’t the slightest hint of pity in his voice when he whispered “happy birthday.” It made Todd’s heart soar. Neil’s tone was delicate, as if testing Todd’s comfort zone. Smile lines appeared on his cheeks, crinkling his eyes in the way that Todd adored. The desk set was examined delicately with gloved hands, and the mischievous glint in his eyes told Todd everything he needed to know.

Papers were fluttering in the air like birds. Pens were clattering on the concrete with a sound akin to breaking glass. The sight made Todd feel free and invincible. When he glanced at Neil’s cheerful face, he couldn’t help but laugh and smile alongside him.

“I wouldn’t worry. You’ll get another one next year,” Neil said, locking eyes with Todd.

For once, Todd’s adrenaline washed all of his fears away. Against his better judgment, he leaned forward and kissed Neil. Neil made a sound in surprise, causing Todd’s adrenaline to drain away in a flash. He hurried to lean back, fearing that he overstepped his boundaries, but Neil stopped him by intertwining their hands together.

“How long have you wanted to do that?” asked Neil, their foreheads pressed together. Todd felt like yawping so loudly that every resident in the city would open their windows to see what could make a sound so loud.

Todd squeezed Neil’s hand and brought it to his lips. “I-I think since I met you.”

That was the first and last birthday Todd enjoyed. When the next birthday came around, no one was there to help throw his third desk set off the roof.

Ever since, Todd’s birthdays have been very simple. There were no more desk sets; his parents simply sent him a card with a few dollar bills inside. No longer did he tell new acquaintances and friends about his birthday. Every year, he would buy a slice of cake at a local bakery and spend the evening reading in his comfiest living room chair. Sad as it may sound to outsiders, it was just the way he liked it.

Todd never forgot that day. For a fleeting moment, Neil had made him feel like he deserved all of the gifts in the world. When Todd explained to Neil why he didn’t tell him, Neil had brushed Todd’s hair away from his eyes. Giving Todd a tender kiss on the forehead, he wrapped his arms around his waist. The two swayed in comfortable silence until Neil spoke up, his voice slightly muffled from keeping his head on Todd’s shoulder.

“You should tell the others. Only if you want, of course. You deserve so so much more than just a stupid desk set, my dear.”

Desk sets suddenly felt below Todd. He felt like he deserved the world because that was what Neil had given him. Neil embraced him with a tight grip as if he was protecting Todd from all of the monsters and evils of the world. Todd could’ve stayed in that embrace forever, lost in the warm feeling and the smell of Neil’s cologne. In retrospect, he wished he had. When that world was taken from him, the fantasy turned to dust. Those monsters that Neil had sworn to protect him from were back to bite at his ankles once again.

The remainder of the Welton years went by in a blur of tests and half-hearted study groups. Nothing remained the same upon returning the following January. Charlie was gone, Neil was dead, and Cameron kept his distance. Todd pitied him, but couldn’t find the right blend of comforting words to express his apologies. Before he realized how much time had passed, he was supposed to decide on his college. He didn’t go for the Ivy League; it was never his plan. Instead, he settled on a local college with a great literature program. His parents were none the wiser. They just paid whatever tuition funds they got billed for.

Carpe diem and all.

On the first day of his freshman college year, Todd had met the most wonderful girl he’d ever met, completely by accident.

He was heading towards his new dorm room with a heavy box in his hands that both tipped his balance and blocked his vision. When the contents of the box shifted to the side, he lost his footing, tripping forward and smacking directly into a girl walking in the opposite direction.

“I-I’m so sorry. I seem to have l-lost my balance,” said Todd, reaching for his scattered belongings. He could feel his hip bone throbbing in pain; it was certainly going to leave a bruise. The girl giggled kindly while dusting off her blouse.

“Oh, no sweat. Would you like a hand?” she asked, looking at Todd with caring eyes and a sweet smile. Todd shot her an awkward smile. “Please. That would be great.”

She handed him a book that narrowly missed her leg. Todd thanked her and assembled his belongings back into the box. The girl hopped up, smoothed her skirt, and stuck out her hand to help Todd up. He accepted it with a nod of thanks.

“I’m Nancy, by the way. It’s my first day here.” Todd nodded. “I-I’m Todd Anderson. It’s my first day too.”

Nancy was striking. Her coffee-colored hair was pulled halfway up, a yellow fabric bow tied over the elastic. The rest of her hair fell in gentle waves on her shoulders. Her yellow blouse looked and smelled like it had been freshly ironed; the collar was crisp and free of wrinkles. The blouse was tucked neatly into her green plaid skirt, with a sleek black belt holding it together. Todd felt intimidated by her neat and professional appearance. 

“Would you like some help with that box?” she asked. Todd snapped out of his thoughts.

“Uh, sure, if it’s no trouble. I’m, uh, I’m heading down this way.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all! I was just heading to get more stuff from my car. My room is down this hallway.” She pointed to a room located further down the hallway. “My roommate isn’t here yet, so I’m trying to move in before she gets here. It can get really hectic when two people are unpacking all of their stuff in one little room, you know? Is your roommate here yet?”

Todd nodded along, leading her in the direction of his room. She seemed to be carrying the box with ease. “Actually, I, uh, don’t have a roommate.”

Nancy’s eyes bulged and her eyebrows shot up. “You got a private room?” 

Todd scratched the back of his neck, feeling it warm from embarrassment. “Yeah, I did.”

“Lucky you,” Nancy said in disbelief, “you don’t know how lucky you are. Roommates are the worst. If I could afford a private room, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

Bitter words brewed in Todd’s mind before he could stop them. “I’ve had roommates before. At my old school. He was—“ Todd cleared his throat to mask his cracking voice— “he was splendid.”

“Oh.” Her voice sounded small in comparison to earlier. “I guess not all roommates are bad then. What made you want a private room now if you liked your other roommate so much?”

"W-well, I, um…” Todd shoved his hands deep into his jean pockets. “Just wanted to be alone this year, I guess.”

“Hm. Fair enough.”

“Uh, this is my room. The one on the right up here.”

The pair approached Todd’s new dorm room. His door was propped open with a particularly heavy box containing a few very thick books. Nancy set the box on Todd’s bed, turning to him as she left.

“If you need anything, I’m down the hall and to the left. Two doors down. My dad used to teach here, so I know the place pretty well already. Just come knocking whenever you need.”

With a little skip in her step, she exited the room. Down the hall, her voice echoed back towards Todd’s room. “Good luck on your first day, Todd!”

Despite Todd’s expectations, the two continued contact after their accidental meeting. It wasn’t hard with both of them living mere doors away. What had initially started as being mutual acquaintances evolved into being close friends. Occasional conversations in the hallway turned into study sessions, weekend hangouts, and lunches at quaint campus restaurants.

Nancy was a very pleasant person to speak with and an incredibly bright student. She seemed to understand Todd, often listening to him recite poetry late into the night. With both of them majoring in Literature, the two often discussed books, poems, music, or anything else that caught their fancy. Being with her felt like a Dead Poets meeting, except she didn’t know anything about Todd’s past.

One day, during their sophomore year, Nancy broke through the silence of their study session with a burning question. A question that would change the nature of their friendship.

“Todd, I’ll be blunt. Do you love me?” Nancy was never afraid to speak her mind; Todd admired that about her.

Todd hesitated, blinking in surprise at the suddenness of the question. The question looped in his mind as he thought over the implications of it. After a beat, he nodded. “Yeah, of course I do.” It wasn’t a lie, he did care for her.

It wasn’t like Todd didn’t love her. He did, truly. But the love he felt for her was different than any other love he’d ever felt. It wasn’t a sibling bond. It wasn’t romantic. Perhaps it was most akin to the bond he had with the Poets. He felt content being her friend for the rest of his life.

Nancy’s breath hitched. Todd turned to look at her. She was staring down at her textbook. Her eyes were sparkling and a smile was forming. She glanced up at Todd, a blush on her cheeks. “For real? You do?” Her voice sounded taken aback. 

Todd furrowed his eyebrows. “Y-Yeah? Was that the wrong answer?”

“No, not at all,” she said quickly, “in fact, it— it’s the right answer.” Todd stared at her. “I don’t think I follow…”

She stood up from her place on Todd’s bed, crossing over to where Todd was sitting. Her textbook was abandoned on the bed.

Leaning on Todd’s desk, Nancy gazed deep into Todd’s eyes. The tension in the room could’ve been cut with a knife. Not a sharp knife either; a plastic one could’ve worked fine.

“Nan…cy?” Todd’s voice barely escaped his throat. He hadn’t noticed that Nancy was leaning forward until her lips met his.

The kiss was soft and fast. It was testing the waters, seeing where to draw these new boundaries. Todd didn’t push her away. Both of them separated after a few seconds. Nancy stared at him, eyes twinkling and breath bated.

“Todd?” Her voice was wavering. Todd was lost in thought, absentmindedly staring at her lips.

Todd wasn’t an expert on romantic feelings—after all, his only love was dead and buried. But it didn’t take a genius to know that him liking men was dangerous. Loving Neil had been dangerous. It put everything at too much risk for both of them. For Neil, maybe that would’ve all been worth it. But now…

Nancy was the only woman he felt close enough to consider dating. It could be worth a shot, even if it went nowhere. Todd was just tired now. It wasn’t giving up if he was surrendering, he rationalized. Maybe if times were safer. Maybe if he stopped comparing every man to Neil. Well, in the meantime he was sure he could manage. 

He could do it. He could. Perhaps his love for her was more than platonic after all. Maybe it was time to attempt to move on.

Todd kissed her back.

The first time Nancy ever asked about Neil was when she was helping Todd pack up his dorm room at the end of their senior year.

College had come and gone in a flurry of messy desks, overdue essays, public speaking, and the occasional house party. To Todd’s surprise, he and Nancy were still together and going quite strong. He supposed that they were one of those lucky couples that were compatible right away. It was nowhere near what he was expecting when she kissed him two years prior, but he was decently happy now. 

“Who are these people?” Nancy asked, offering a wrinkled photo to Todd from her place on the solid carpet floor. Todd set down the pen he was using to label boxes and walked towards her. 

“Where did you find it?” 

“It was at the top inside one of those boxes under your bed. I don’t think it’s been opened since you got here, to be honest.”

She was probably right. A hefty layer of dust had blanketed itself over the lid of the box. In comparison to the other objects left under his bed—a handful of promotional material for various clubs, a small container with all of his used notebooks, and an empty soda bottle—the box had the thickest dust layer of all.

Clutching the photo with a gentle touch, Todd felt a sudden wave of a bittersweet feeling. He recognized the photo instantly.

The photo depicted the Dead Poets Society and Mr. Keating posed in the same courtyard where they were once instructed to walk to the beat of their own drum. The boys all donned their school uniforms; Keating donned a preppy linen suit.

Keating was positioned in the middle of the group, the rest of the boys standing in various heights around him. Todd’s face was solemn in the photo. Knox had on his signature dopey smile. Charlie looked smug as ever with his hair swooping dramatically over his face. As serious as Pitts and Cameron tried to look, they both had quirks to their smiles. Meeks looked on the brink of laughing, no doubt because of some stunt Charlie had pulled. And Neil…

Neil tried to put on a serious and controlled smile for the photo, the expression perfected over many years of parental pressure. Todd knew different. To anyone else, it looked so serious. But the wrinkles by the corners of his eyes gave it away. Neil’s smile was, in fact, completely natural, because he truly was happy to be there; with the Poets, with Keating, with Todd.

“T-They were my school friends back at Welton,” explained Todd. Nancy looked intrigued; Todd rarely discussed Welton and he never told her why. She stood up, placing her hand on his shoulder to encourage him to go on.

“God, I haven’t seen this picture in forever.” Todd gave a breathy chuckle. “That was my English teacher. His name was Mr. Keating. Nance, he was fantastic. He forced me out of my comfort zone and I’ll— I’ll always be grateful for that.” Todd exhaled deeply; Nancy squeezed his shoulder.

“T-That’s Meeks in the front. He’s super smart. Ended up at Yale. Last I heard he’s going to work for NASA when he graduates. To his right is Knox. I mean this lovingly but he was an idiot back then.” Todd paused for a moment to chuckle, rubbing his eyes. 

“An idiot? How so?” she asked, with a chuckle.

“He followed this girl around for months. I mean he followed her. They actually ended up dating for a bit. Broke up the summer after senior year when he ended up going to Harvard and she stayed in Vermont.”

Nancy’s jaw hung open. “He followed her and they still ended up dating?”

Todd chuckled. “He got beat up by her boyfriend once.”

“Boyfriend?”

“As I said, he was an idiot back then.”

Todd cleared his throat. “A-And that guy there is Cameron. Good guy. Really good. He didn’t get along great with the others, but I always liked him. I think he’s somewhere in Europe now studying law. We still talk on occasion.”

Todd shook his head briefly. Nancy did a poor job of hiding the confusion on her face but gave a reassuring smile nonetheless.

“That’s Pitts. He and Meeks have been joined at the hip as long as I’ve known them. They’re at Yale together. Next to him is Charlie. Oh my God, Charlie…” Todd trailed off, smiling. “I miss Charlie. He’s the coolest guy I’ve ever met. Got expelled for a—“ Todd hesitated— “for a, uh, prank.”

Nancy’s face turned sympathetic. “I’m so sorry to hear that, dear. Do you— do you still talk to him?”

Todd nodded. “Y-Yeah. He’s always traveling though. He sends postcards and letters whenever he’s stationary.” Todd stopped talking for a moment, staring at the picture.

“Who’s that on the left?” Nancy prompted. A lump formed in Todd’s throat.

“Tha-That’s Neil,” he said, his voice feeling weak. “Neil Perry.”

“You’ve never mentioned him before. Were you close?” Nancy asked.

Todd felt his bottom lip quiver. He bit the inside of his lip to stop it. “Yeah. Very close. He was my roommate.”

“Oh! The super good one?”

“Yeah. That’s the one.” Todd swallowed, feeling the memories bubble up. “He, uh, h-he died halfway t-through my first year.”

Nancy gasped. “Oh my God, Todd. I’m so sorry. I had no idea,” said Nancy, bringing Todd in for a hug. Todd shook his head against her shoulder, tousling her hair in the process. “‘S fine. You— you couldn’t have known.”

Nancy continued to hold Todd, while Todd buried his head, desperately trying not to cry. He thought he had moved on from it all. He had a girlfriend now and he was happy now, wasn’t he? Yet, seeing the picture had punched him hard, not unlike Charlie’s punch to Cameron all of those years ago.

Neither of them continued the conversation after that. Nancy kissed Todd on the forehead, squeezed his hand, and went to resume packing.

After the move, the group photo found a new place: a frame on Todd’s desk in his and Nancy’s new apartment.

“Todd! You’ve got mail!”

Todd rushed to finish a line of his most recent poem, setting his pen by his notebook when he was through. “I’m on my way!”

His latest project was compiling and writing poetry for his very first anthology. The very idea of publishing his work both delighted and terrified him. It had been his dream for years, which meant that the pressure was intense. He found that he was being much harder on himself, especially when it came to his older works that he was proofreading. Rereading some of his old poems not only made him reel at his angst, but also made him emotional at times. Past Todd went through a lot and reliving some of those emotions had been painful.

“Todd!”

Todd stood, adjusted the hem of his sweater, and walked out of his office. “I’m here! I’m here! What’ve you got?”

Nancy was sorting a few days worth of mail at the kitchen table. She extended a delicate envelope towards Todd. He carefully took it in his hands, taken aback by the sheer quality of it.

The envelope was translucent, thin, and closed with a green wax seal. A small flower—Todd couldn’t identify it—was pressed into the wax. Some expensive-looking gold lettering could be seen glittering through the envelope. With careful fingers, Todd broke the seal and pulled out the paper.

Like he had suspected, the paper seemed expensive as well, both in quality and in print. It had a weight to it; lace and gold lettering decorated the edges. As Todd read the paper, his eyes widened.

“Christ, Knox is getting married!”

Nancy glanced up from her task. “Knox? Your high school friend?”

Todd nodded. “Yeah, the very same. I didn’t even know he was seeing anyone.”

“What’s her name?” she asked, her fingers laced together on top of the mail pile.

“It says her name is Shelly.” Todd tried to deduce if he’d ever heard Knox mention anyone named Shelly before. “I’ve never heard of her before,” he concluded.

“Well, you should RSVP us. I’d love to meet them both!” She resumed sorting the mail. “When is it? Where’s it being hosted at?”

“‘Bout three months from now. It says he’s coming back to Vermont for it. I wonder if he’s gonna move back.” Todd walked over to the refrigerator, grabbing a spare magnet to hang up the invitation. “I don’t think I’ve seen him since before he moved down to Chicago. And that was- what? Five months ago? How did he get engaged so fast…”

“Love moves fast, I guess.”

“Believe me, it always has for him.”

Nancy smiled at him. “You know…” she said in a teasing tone, “one of these days it’ll be us sending out these lavish invitations for our wedding.”

Todd’s movements stopped where he stood. He processed the statement for a moment, completely unsure how to respond. He settled on a sarcastic, albeit panicked chuckle.

Nancy, noticing his pause, turned to face him, breaking her concentration with her task. “Do you want to get married one day, Todd?”

“Well, I— I guess, uh—” Todd cursed his stammering. “One day.”

“One day?” Nancy repeated in disbelief. The line between sarcasm and genuine disbelief was a thin one, and Nancy walked it like a tightrope.

“Was that the wrong answer?” Her disbelieving expression told Todd what the answer was.

She scoffed, though there didn’t seem to be any malice behind it. “Todd, we’re young, but we won’t be young forever. And see, all of our friends are starting to get married! Don’t you think we should at least consider it?”

“Well, yeah, but—”

She continued, ignoring Todd’s interjection. “Or, at the very least, we could look for a proper house.”

“What’s wrong with our apartment now?” 

“Todd, look around. The paint is peeling, that stain has been on the carpet since we moved in, there’s a wall made of mirrors.” She gestured sharply towards said mirror wall. “Plus, it’s not very…spacious, you know?”

Todd let out a sarcastic laugh because he did know. He knew exactly what Nancy was implying.

“Nance, you know that children are much further away than marriage—“

“Yes, yes! I’m just saying that this apartment is barely spacious enough for the two of us.” She went back to sorting the mail once again. An impression of Todd’s feet had been left in the carpet when he finally moved from his spot, walking back towards his office.

“Can we at least start considering some options?”

Todd turned back to Nancy, shifting his weight between his feet. “Yeah, of course,” he said, sincerely. Nancy’s smile went big. 

“Nothing too expensive!” Todd clarified.

“No promises.”

“Why won’t you propose to me?”

Todd furrowed his brows, placing a bookmark in the novel he was reading. Nancy was looking at him from her seat across the living room, a somewhat stern expression on her face.

“What do you mean?” Todd asked with a careful tone. 

Nancy sighed. “I mean, we’ve been together since sophomore year. Our seventh anniversary is next year, for Christ’s sake! To be quite frank, I just don’t understand why we aren’t married. Or engaged at least!”

Ah, there was that blunt honesty again. Now it seemed less admirable. 

“I mean all of our friends got married so soon,” continued Nancy, “Yet here we are. All that’s changed in the past few years is that we moved into this house.”

“Nance, it’s not like we’re old. I’m only just about to turn twenty-five.”

“And we’ve been together since we were nineteen.” Nancy rebutted. 

Todd bit his cheek. They’ve had this conversation before, too many times to count. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m just…not in as much of a rush as you are. I guess it slipped my mind. You know, with work and the anthology—”

“Maybe you should stop working yourself so much,” said Nancy. Her tone was caring, but the words still felt sharp. “I feel like I hardly see you unless I’m dragging you out of your office to get some sleep.”

“Hey, you can blame my publisher for that.”

“Maybe I will…”

Todd pursed his lips. He removed the bookmark from his novel and continued to read; Nancy stared at him with piercing eyes. “Look, Todd, we’ve got to talk. Seriously.”

Todd didn’t look up from his book. “I don’t understand what there is to talk about.”

Nancy’s lips stretched into a thin smile; her eyes told a different story. “Oh, I don’t know.” Her tone was sickly sweet and slow. It made Todd perk up again.

“Todd, I want to marry you. I’ve wanted to marry you since we graduated. I wanted to move into this house because I want to start a family. What about marriage is so frightening to you?”

“Nance, I’m not frightened by the idea of marriage. It’s just…a big step. That’s all.”

"Yes, it is. I won’t deny that. But you’re taking big steps now!” she said, with an encouraging smile. “You’re about to publish your poetry! That’s a huge step too— and I’m very proud of you, for the record.”

“But there’s a process and way too much planning involved. Weddings are just a lot of unnecessary work. I’m busy enough as it is.”

“Todd, if you don’t wanna marry me then just say that and I’ll drop it!” The volume of both of their voices seemed to increase with each statement. “Talk to me honestly, please. What doubts do you have?”

The room went completely quiet. “I—” Todd really couldn’t conjure a reason. It just seemed to be a gut feeling, something in his mind preventing him from taking that leap. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know,” said Nancy, skeptically.

“Honestly, I just don’t,” Todd repeated. “W— Why do you want to marry me so badly?”

“Tax benefits,” Nancy said, only half-joking. “Plus, I see myself spending my life with you. Is that such a daunting thing?” Todd nodded, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. “I mean, it kind of is.”

“Just promise me that you’ll at least think about it?” Her voice seemed annoyed and temperate.

“Look, Nance, I’ll propose one of these days. I can promise you that. I’ve just…got a lot on my plate right now.” Todd paused to compose himself. “And I appreciate the concern - you know I do - but I can take care of myself. I’m doing alright, just stressed. That’s all.”

Nancy’s face was neutral as her gaze drifted away from Todd. Todd, sensing (and hoping) that the conversation was over, resumed his book. The sounds of loud voices in the living room were now replaced with occasional bird chirps and cars driving on the street outside. 

“No.” Nancy turned her attention back to Todd, a proud smirk on her face. Todd turned to face her, squinting his eyes in confusion. It wasn’t confusion towards her statement, per se, more so the familiarity of the whole scenario. Why was this conversation familiar to him?

“What do you mean, no?” he questioned. As if it were a spark of lightning, the realization hit him all at once.

Todd felt a rush of many feelings and sensations; memories that he had purposefully not thought about for some time resurfaced. He could recall vividly the heat that radiated from the sunbeam cast upon his bed. The emotional whiplash from being excited for Neil to having Neil shout at him. The feeling of defensiveness when Neil insisted that he help take care of Todd. The burning in his lungs, partially from running all over the room and partially from laughing until his sides hurt. The adoring sparkle in Neil’s eyes when he looked at Todd as they both lay on the floor, wheezing with laughter.

The surge of repressed emotions was becoming too much. Todd could feel all of the familiar symptoms: increased heart rate, a lump in his throat, his lungs begging for air. It felt like his skull was being filled with water, and he was about to sink into the dark depths. The room felt too hot, too stuffy. The urge to get out and run was prominent. Anywhere would be better than here, Todd figured.

Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.

Nancy smirked, oblivious to Todd’s internal monologue. Her smile crinkled her cheeks, making her eyes squint ever so slightly. It all seemed too familiar. 

“No,” she repeated.

The metaphorical water in Todd’s head was spilling over. Tears were welling in his eyes. He sprung up from his chair, acting on the burning desire to get out of the house. Nancy stammered in confusion at the sudden outburst. Todd walked in long strides towards the front door, pausing only briefly to grab his shoes.

“Todd! Todd, please wait! What did I do?” shouted Nancy from the living room. Todd didn’t hesitate when he unlocked the door and started walking. It made him feel cruel, almost villainous, but he walked down the front porch stairs anyway.

Nancy called out for him from the door as Todd walked down the driveway. Her words became jumbled noises in the background, drowned out by Todd’s racing mind and the distance between them.

Todd cursed himself. It was one simple word. Why did it have to dredge up so many bittersweet memories? It all happened so fast, and now here he was. Running off to nowhere.

Actually, where was he? In his zoned-out state, he kept walking, not taking in any of his surroundings. He was somewhere very different now, though exactly where he didn’t know. But he couldn’t go back home. Not yet. Hell, probably not for a long while. On the other hand, he also had no money, no food, not even a jacket to shield him from the aggressive autumn breeze. Standing there wasn’t an option. He had to find someone to stay with.

His mental list of friends seemed like a dead end. Last he had heard, Cameron was working in Manhattan. Meeks and Pitts were always swamped with work. Knox was probably still in Chicago. Charlie could be in town, though the chances were slim. Slim, but perhaps not impossible.

Despite the improbable odds, Todd sprinted as fast as he could towards Charlie’s house. Cars were zipping by him when he ran on the sidewalk by the main road. Passerbys looked at him with odd expressions. He couldn’t yet feel the burn in his legs, but he knew he would regret the strenuous exercise much later. None of it mattered to him right now. The only priority was to find Charlie. Find anyone.

The journey had taken nearly half an hour. By the end, Todd was absolutely out of breath. Approaching the large mahogany doors, he began to feel unusually intimidated. What if Charlie wasn’t even home? What if he had nothing to offer Todd other than his condolences? What if this whole visit was a complete waste of time?

Breathe, Todd reminded himself. Inhale. Exhale. 

He firmly pressed the doorbell, but still knocked with a frenzy. After stewing in worry for a moment, all of his anxious thoughts left when someone began to open the doors. Charlie stood there, dressed in a plain black shirt and a pair of green flannel pajama pants.

Charlie had barely aged a day since his expulsion from Welton. All that really changed was the addition of a few smile lines and a pair of wide wire-rimmed glasses which he wore more often than not. His face turned from confusion to worry very quickly. It occurred to Todd then how disheveled and sweaty he must look after his impromptu jog.

“Todd? What’s up, man? Are you okay?” he asked, ushering Todd into the large and empty house. 

“I-I...I screwed up Charlie,” said Todd, his voice coming out quieter than he intended. Any louder and he knew he’d start getting choked up. Charlie, eyebrows furrowed, directed him towards the living room, easing him down on the couch.

“Before we talk—and yes, we are definitely talking—can I get you anything? A blanket? Tea? A gigantic hug? Are there law enforcement officers hot on your tail? I can pack some bags. I’ve got airline connections. We can be out of here.” Todd gave a genuine smile. Charlie really was caring, in his unique way.

“Tea, please. Sounds great. Though I’m sure a hug will come later. And no, nobody is after me,” replied Todd. Charlie nodded, cracking a small smile. “Stay here. Don’t move.” It was supposed to sound like an order but came out softly.

Charlie zipped around the kitchen. Todd could hear the kettle whistling and a ceramic mug tap against the countertops.

“I’ve got peppermint and chamomile. Which one ya want?” Charlie shouted from the kitchen.

“Peppermint, thanks.”

A few more cabinets opened and closed before Charlie returned to the living room, two mugs in hand. Todd accepted his mug with thanks; Charlie took his mug and sat in a chair opposite Todd. The tea was sipped in tense silence. Charlie’s eyes never left Todd’s form.

“Nancy and I are through,” said Todd, cutting through the quiet. Charlie raised an eyebrow.

“God, what happened?”

“I...she…” Todd hesitated. “I-I freaked out. She started asking me about-about marriage. I said it could happen someday. She was insistent a-and said I overworked myself—”

“Well, you can’t deny that’s kind of true, Anderson,” interrupted Charlie. Todd raised his eyebrows in an agreeing look. “Fair enough. B-But I said that I’d marry her one of these days. I said that I could take care of myself. She said no. But not, like, in a bad way. Sort of a ‘let me take care of you’ way.”

Charlie paused, eyebrows furrowed, before shaking his head. “I don’t follow. What’s so bad about that?”

Todd inhaled deeply, fidgeting with the handle of his teacup. “N-Neil told me the same thing once.”

“Oh.” Charlie’s face went from confusion to complete understanding. “Oh. Oh my God.” 

Todd nodded, taking another sip of his tea. “Yeah, I know. I totally freaked out and ran. I just— I feel terrible. Hearing those words again just—”

“No, I get it. I really do.” A beat. “What are you going to do? I mean, you’re welcome to stay if you need it.”

“Thanks, Char. I-I guess I’ll have to face her at some point.”

“But not yet.”

“No, definitely not. It’s just…” Todd blinked. His thoughts felt so abstract, a series of nonsensical images that he was trying to concoct into words that properly expressed his thought process to Charlie. “She looked like him when she said it.”

Charlie’s expression stiffened. “How do you figure?”

Todd’s lip quivered. “Her smile. It makes her c-cheeks wrinkle up and her eyes squint. It looks...it just looked like his.” Todd wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket. Discreetly, he noticed Charlie do the same. This description seemed to strike a chord in him too, Todd noted.

“Todd, if I may,” asked Charlie, his voice quivering for a moment, “How— how did you feel towards Neil?”

That question took Todd slightly aback. “I…”

“No pressure, obviously,” said Charlie, slightly rushed, “I just…I never knew the details. I mean, I had my suspicions, sure, but I never wanted to pry.”

Todd gave a sad smile, whispering as if his words were some dark secret. “I loved him. I, uh, we were sort of…together for a bit.” 

Charlie nearly choked on his last sip of tea. “And you didn’t even tell me?” he sputtered.

Todd chuckled, raising his hands defensively. “It wasn’t a long thing. It was just...our thing. Forgive us for not wanting our loving relationship to be public in a strict all-male boarding school.”

“Fair enough. I totally called it though,” replied Charlie. “But still, I’m your best friend, no?”

Todd made a conflicting, joking noise; Charlie raised an offended hand to his heart, gasping. Todd snorted. “Only kidding, Char!” 

Charlie laughed with him and lowered his hand, opting instead to flick around a loose string on the plush edge of his chair. The two sat in comfortable silence until Charlie spoke up again: “So, why did you date her then?”

“Hm?”

Charlie propped his elbows on his knees, gesturing his hands towards Todd. “You started dating sophomore year, right? Neil’s— uh, yeah...Neil still felt extremely fresh to me then. Now—” Charlie held his hand up— “I’m not saying that you weren’t mourning or anything. You know that. That being said, I can’t help but wonder…” 

“Spit it out, Dalton.”

“Did you date her because, somewhere deep in your poetic little brain, you thought she looked just a little bit like Neil? And maybe—and this is only my speculation—you wanted to feel like you were with him again.”

Todd’s eyes went wide, his mouth hanging open. Charlie stared right back at him, waiting patiently for his response. Todd stammered, trying to find a defense, but couldn’t think of anything to counter it.

Man, Charlie was right.

“Don’t take this personally, but do you even like women, Todd?”

Leave it to Charlie Dalton to cut through Todd’s internal monologue with a pressing and intrusive question. Not like they hadn’t discussed identity before, but Todd purposefully steered those conversations and questions away from himself. It didn’t turn out to be a problem in the past; Charlie had no issue ranting passionately about whatever person had caught his eye most recently.

“I-I mean, they’re nice and all—“

Charlie interrupted with a laugh. An honest, true, raw laugh. “So, no then?”

“No then,” repeated Todd, smiling despite his racing mind.

Charlie cleared his throat. “What are you going to tell her?”

“Well, I-I do love her. Just not—“

“—in the way you loved him,” Charlie finished. Todd hummed in agreement. “I guess I’ll tell her that I love her as a friend.”

“Real cliche, Anderson. I’m sure she’ll take that well,” Charlie’s tone was lovingly sarcastic.

“Shut up,” said Todd, with a chuckle. He placed his mug on the coffee table, leaning back with a heavy sigh.

“I love her, Charlie. I really do.”

“I know you do. But…I think it was time for it to end.”

“God, I feel terrible.”

“Yeah, breakups will do that to you. But you know—“ Charlie pointed at Todd— “you might be able to find someone who’s actually right for you. I know some really good bars and—”

Todd gave a nervous laugh. “I-I don’t think bars are really my place, Char.”

“Worth a shot,” said Charlie, with a shrug. “Hey, can I get you another mug of tea? I have a feeling that we’re gonna be here a while.”

“God, you’re an angel.”

“Don’t inflate my ego, Anderson.”

Working in the kitchen with haste, Charlie produced two fresh cups of tea. The taste of the slightly over-steeped tea felt sharp and bitter to Todd’s taste buds. It burned going down his throat—and not just because of the warmth. 

He took another sip, sputtering slightly. “Charlie, what did you do to this tea?” Charlie didn’t seem to notice or mind it; he drank half of his mug in one sip.

“Alcohol,” he said, completely unbothered. Todd’s eyes widened.

“You could’ve at least warned me.”

“You’re welcome.”

Todd grumbled his thanks, following Charlie’s lead and swallowing half of the mug. He grimaced as he set his mug on the coffee table. Wishing to assume a comfier position, Todd swung his legs up, his feet resting on the end of the couch. His hands cushioned his head. Charlie slumped deeper into his chair as well.

“This sucks,” mumbled Todd. “This all just sucks.”

Charlie blurted a laugh. His hand rushed to cover his mouth. “Sorry, sorry. That was just really sudden.” He coughed. “What specifically sucks?”

“Everything.” Todd inhaled and exhaled deeply. “I— I miss Neil.”

“Hey, Todd,” Charlie’s voice was endearing, “I miss him too. Every single day.”

“I guess I just—” Todd pinched the bridge of his nose— “I’ve always busied myself, ya know? I cried and I-I broke down and then I’d wake up the next morning and do my homework. Eventually, I just did so much homework that I stopped having time to even cry.” Todd chuckled despite the content of his statement. 

Charlie gave a small smile. “I get that. I do. Except instead of doing work I…lashed out. And I regret that so much. I don’t even think I punched Cameron out of anger.” He paused, mulling over his words. “Actually, no. I was angry at him. I’m not anymore, but I was then. But punching someone isn’t me. I think I just wanted to get expelled, to be honest. If I could get out of Welton, maybe I wouldn’t constantly be reminded of him.”

“I almost wish I could’ve been expelled,” said Todd. “Or maybe run away somewhere that wasn’t Vermont. I don’t know, I wasn’t picky.”

“It’s not all fun and games, I can tell you that.” Charlie took another sip from his mug.

“I know. I just…“ Todd folded his hands over his stomach. “I wish I didn’t just try and push it all away. I wish I had tried to accept it earlier. It all just feels so crushing now.”

“Let me level with you, Todd,” Charlie began, “there is no such thing as ‘acceptance.’ It doesn’t exist and I’ll tell you why. How can you ever accept the untimely death of someone that you love? How can you accept that there was so much more that he could’ve done but he never got the chance to? How can you accept that you couldn’t do anything about his situation? How could you accept the loss of a star before he had burned his brightest? The answer is that you can’t. Not a week goes by where I don’t wonder what I could’ve done to help, or if I could’ve saved him in any way. And I know I couldn’t have, and that’s not my fault. Knowing that none of us could’ve done anything just makes me not want to accept it more.

“But something better does exist: contentment. You might not ever accept that what happened happened, but you can find contentment in knowing that you did everything you could. And you— you get used to it. That’s not to say that I don’t still miss him. I’ll always miss him. I just find solace in knowing that—if there’s any form of an afterlife—he’s in a much better place. I’ve learned to be content with knowing that I can’t reverse time. I’ll always love and miss him, and I’ll get those random bursts of grief, but I can move on with my life. But who knows, maybe he’s a ghost and he’s haunting me! That’d be pretty cool.”

Todd gaped, not even attempting to block the tears that fell down his cheeks. “Christ, Charlie,” he said with a shaky voice. “Who knew you were such a poet?”

Charlie chuckled in response. “Hey, that’s your job, not mine. I’m just speaking the truth.”

“No, but you’re completely right,” Todd said, softly. “I guess I have to start that process. Except I’m nearly a decade late.”

“Grief isn’t a linear path, if that helps you feel better.”

“You’re right.” Todd covered his face with his hands, making his voice muffled. “It feels like I’m driving a car and hitting every speed bump and pothole and pebble on the highway.”

Charlie drank the last drops of his tea. “But hey, roads even out eventually, right?”

Following Charlie’s lead, Todd reached for his half-full mug. “Cheers to that.” The two sat in contemplative, comfortable silence as Todd finished his last drops of tea. 

“Hey, it’s getting kinda late. Not to rush you or anything, but I’ve got a lunch date tomorrow. You want my guest bedroom?” Todd nodded solemnly. “Sounds great. Thanks Charlie. Seriously, I appreciate it.”

“Hey, it’s no sweat,” Charlie said, grinning. He stood up, popping a few joints in the process, and walked off in the direction of the bedroom, leaving Todd alone on the couch, his mind swimming.

He barely slept a wink that night. Every time he closed his eyes, all he saw was Neil’s frightened expression as he walked out of the theatre towards his deathly fate.

“Well, that’s the last of the bags.”

Nancy stood in the middle of the living room. The room was practically empty, save for some larger furniture pieces. Todd was seated on the couch in front of her, watching her pack up her car in near silence.

It had been the most awkward week of Todd’s life. Returning home after the fight and having to explain everything to Nancy was terrifying and saddening. His first night back was full of sobs, confusion, and mild arguments, but both came to an understanding. Granted, nobody won; it was still a tragic situation for both. 

In the end, splitting up was necessary for both of them. It was almost the end of the month anyway; it was the perfect time to move their separate ways. Nancy would be staying with a college friend, Todd planned to stay with Charlie. Now everything felt surreal. It was moving day.

“Look, Todd.” Nancy sat where she was standing. She didn’t meet his eye, instead opting to run her fingers through the shaggy rug. “I don’t hate you, you know?”

Todd scoffed. “How is that even possible?”

“I honestly have no idea. I mean, by all logic I should hate you. And don’t get me wrong, I am mad. Upset even. Just— just not at you. Mostly at myself.”

“Nance…” Todd leaned forward, his hands gripping the edge of the couch cushion. “You’ve got no reason to blame yourself for— for any of this. I-I mean, this is on me and—“

Nancy held up her hand; Todd paused. “Todd, this isn’t your fault either. This— yeah, I think this was a long time coming. It would’ve happened one way or another. Maybe it would’ve been years from now, but it would’ve happened. I’m just…I am sorry for the situation.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because we’ve spent nearly seven years being only moderately content when we could’ve been living happily.”

“Come on, you know you make me happy—“

“Yes, I know. But only as a friend. You— we both deserve more than that.”

“I know.” Todd folded his hands on his lap. “Do— do you think we’ll stay friends after this?” he mumbled. Nancy looked at him sweetly.

“Eventually, I’m sure,” she replied. “I-I think that we should just…not talk for a bit. Until things settle more.”

“Yeah, yeah. ‘F course.”

Silence blanketed the room, covering both occupants in an awkward haze. Neither met the other’s eye; each opted instead to fidget with the nearest object.

“So, that’s it then? We’re done?” Todd tried hard to bite back yet another apology.

“Y-Yeah…” Nancy nodded slowly, her eyes were glassy with tears but her thin smile was still present.

Todd could feel a pit in his stomach. The feeling of wanting to run away and cry was overwhelming, yet Todd felt like he was glued to their living room couch. The same couch they had once bought with the promise of a bright future ahead of them. Now, the pattern had long faded, and the hope of a future together had just crumbled.

Nancy stood up, dusting off her skirt. Giving Todd a chaste peck on the forehead, she gazed at him for a moment, before heading towards the front door.

Pausing and turning on her heel, she addressed Todd once more. “I don’t hate you at all, you know? I just…think you deserve to know that.”

Todd looked at her with his eyebrows furrowed. She continued: “I’m just upset that it’s over, even though I know it’s for the better. It’s nothing personal towards you.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Todd agreed. “I’m sad too, Nance. I do love you, just not, you know, romantically. I—“ Todd cut himself off, realizing he was about to apologize again.

“It’s okay, I promise.” With a bittersweet smile and a wave, Nancy left the home, leaving Todd completely alone.

Todd’s 25th birthday was celebrated in Charlie’s vast mansion a few days later. Charlie tried his best to make it a day worth celebrating, despite Todd’s circumstances. He insisted they go see a movie (“I hear Camelot is great! You’ve got no choice. We’re going to see it.) Todd really did appreciate it and accepted the chocolate cake slice that Charlie bought him afterward.

He didn’t feel like he deserved any of it. He just broke up with a girl he didn’t know he never loved until it was nearly seven years too late. All of the feelings and emotions that he had filed away long ago hit again with full force. It was terrifying to return to that.

Tragic, was it not? Todd could spin words into poems that would make even the toughest of professors impressed. He could paint universes with his metaphors and Iambic pentameter. But give him a shot at happiness and he mishandles it. Typical, he thought.

“You got anything good to read? I think I’m gonna go to bed,” Todd asked Charlie, who was washing dishes at the kitchen sink. All of Todd’s books were packed in various boxes. Frankly, he was too tired to dig through them.

“Eh, probably not. This is my family’s house after all,” Charlie replied, “I can look around. See what I can dig up.”

“I’d appreciate it, Char. Thanks.”

After washing the soap suds off of his hands, Charlie sauntered towards a bookshelf in the living room. “This is the only shelf that might even have one vaguely interesting book.”

Charlie skimmed the contents of the shelf, groaning to himself. “Best I can offer you is a book on the history of banking during World War Two or…an old physics textbook.”

“God, your family is so boring,” Todd said with a sigh. “Toss me the physics book. It’ll bore me to sleep at least.” Charlie did; Todd caught it with one hand.

“Happy birthday, Todd. Goodnight.”

“Thanks, man. ‘Night.”

Lounging in Charlie’s guest bed, Todd lazily flipped through the physics book. It was, as he had suspected, dreadfully boring. The graphs were complex, none of the words made sense, and Todd found himself grateful that he never went into engineering. When Todd got to the chapter discussing Newton’s Laws of Motion, he paused to read.

An object at rest will stay at rest, the book read, unless acted upon by an unbalanced force.

Todd blinked, marveling over the words. How was it that a scientific law could relate so strongly to his current feelings?

He felt like an unbalanced force. The wire that was ready to trip at any point. Like he was a glass figurine that could break at the simple mention of Neil or the events of the winter of 1959. That grief was never processed, just shoved as far back in his mind as he could.

Humans always want to stay in whatever situation they're in rather than do something to change it, Todd mused. It’s simpler that way. While Newton’s law may have been written with more scientific intentions, it applied to humans with an uncanny resemblance. If nothing disturbs that bond, two people can remain in the same rhythm forever, no matter how uncomfortable or unhappy it may be. It hurt. It all just hurt.

God, Nancy never deserved me at all, thought Todd.

The wave of grief and realizations caught up to Todd, and he found himself chucking the book aggressively across the room out of frustration. If Charlie heard anything, he didn’t come in to check.

Well, it’s the closest thing to a desk set, Todd figured.

With that adrenaline high, Todd couldn’t help but morbidly laugh at himself through his tears. It felt like 1959 all over again; the grief, the frustration, the feeling of love being so far away. His heart stung with the crushing weight of devastation.

Happy birthday indeed.

Todd’s relationship with his older brother was strange. Calling it “strange” was putting it mildly. 

Jeffrey was a few years older than him, but that fact alone never isolated them. When Jeffrey and Todd were very young—before either had begun attending school—they played together in their front yard every day. The two would play hide-and-seek until the stars shined and their mother ushered them inside for dinner. They’d build elaborate fortresses in their living room out of spare cardboard. Jeffrey always wanted to be King Arthur; Todd always settled on being Lancelot. He remembered those memories with a fondness.

His memories started to turn sour when Jeffrey started school. Some could call it the beginning of the end.

Todd didn’t understand the concept of school at first. All he knew was that Jeffrey was gone every weekday and would only be home on the weekends. He did take notice of how every report card was thoroughly scanned and, after a nod of approval, was added to the refrigerator. Every school event was attended. Every sports game ended with yet another trophy to put in the case.

No longer were their evenings filled with medieval stories and card games played by the window. Jeffrey had to be tucked away in his room, always studying for something. And when Todd began attending school, he didn’t exactly match up in comparison.

Every report card of Todd’s was frowned upon. He didn’t even bother going to most school events; his family rarely showed up. No sports games were attended, and no trophies were won.

What’s worse, Jeffrey started to distance himself from Todd more and more. Whether it was unintentional or forced, Todd never knew. All that he could tell was that, for the first time in their life, there was a clear distinction between them. 

It bothered Todd deeply when he was younger and just starting school. He was constantly homesick, coping by reading King Arthur stories late into the night. By the time he started attending Balincrest, he’d given up altogether on a sense of stability. Late-night reading turned to late-night soccer practices and even later-night study sessions.

Not that Todd never tried to get Jeffrey to come to some of his soccer games on occasion. He had tried quite a lot, but his invitations were always met with the same words: “Sorry, bud. I’ve got a lot of work to do. You know how strict Welton can be.” Jeffrey would give a lighthearted chuckle, they’d say their pleasant goodbyes, and the phone line would go dead. Every time.

Todd had looked at Welton with shining eyes. Attending Welton would give him many new chances to redeem himself in the eyes of his family. He could study more, excel in sports, maybe even be valedictorian if he stuck to a routine. Of course, those goals were forgotten mere seconds after he locked eyes with his new roommate, but the enthusiasm had been there. He was never one for routine anyway.

Todd never called Jeffrey during his entire first year at Welton. He didn’t mean for the time to slip away from him so easily. With his studies and, well, everything involving Neil, he’d just forgotten. Enough time had passed that Todd wondered what he would even say to him if he’d called. How do you summarize an entire semester, where so many things happened, in one phone call? 

The longing to rekindle their relationship was a topic often brought up in late-night conversations with Neil. Todd remembered spilling his wishes out during one of these conversations where he and Neil discussed their families.

"Why do you want to call him so badly?” Neil asked, eyes fixed on the ceiling. Todd shifted in his bed, resting his head against Neil’s shoulder. Neil placed his hand on the small of Todd’s back, holding him close.

“M-Maybe we can be close again. You know, like actual brothers. I miss it.”

The two did eventually reconnect and soon fell in the same rhythm as before. At least sporadic phone calls were better than none at all, Todd figured. Jeffrey never asked why Todd seemed melancholy more often. His only anecdote was: “Welton, am I right?”

Letters and calls between Todd and Jeffrey were further and fewer between over Todd’s college years. They always called on birthdays, with a handful of letters being exchanged in the time between. Birthdays messages were stiff. Jeffrey usually sent a card, maybe some food once in a blue moon. Todd admitted that he wasn’t much better; he did the same for Jeffrey.

Not long after his graduation, Todd attended Jeffrey’s wedding. He and his wife looked so cheerful that day. Looking at them both, you’d have never guessed they had barely known each other a month; they looked and acted like they’d known each other for years. A perfect pairing. Todd couldn’t help but feel just the slightest amount of jealousy.

Just over a year later, Todd visited them in the hospital when his first niece was born. He was beyond nervous, having never been around a baby so tiny before. Jeffrey placed her in Todd’s arms and told him with a wide smile that her name was Donna. Donna babbled and grabbed Todd’s thumb with a grip that could’ve made his veins burst. Todd instantly adored her.

Nearly two years later, Eliza was born. Todd had driven Donna to go see her for the very first time. Donna was so eager to meet her that she hadn’t slept a wink the night before. He’d never forget watching Donna hold her for the first time, with a look of awestruck wonder on her face. It didn’t matter that Eliza cried the second she left her mother’s side; Donna was still mesmerized.

He and Nancy babysat the two girls on occasion. They both enjoyed every moment of it. Todd was seen as the foremost expert on bedtime stories, even writing a couple exclusively for them. Those instances became less frequent as the girls began attending a neighborhood child care service. It was around that same time that Jeffrey and Todd started communicating less and less. Things are busy, at least that’s they’d both cite in letters and calls. 

Right as things were looking up, it went back to what it had always been: two estranged brothers who could hardly maintain a conversation together if it could save their life.

This is why it took Todd completely by surprise when he received a sudden letter a week before his 26th birthday.

Dear Todd,

I know it has been a while since we last spoke, and for that, I apologize. Joanna and I have been busy with the girls, with the school year and all. They’re doing fantastic, by the way, and miss you very much. 

I know your birthday is coming soon, and frankly, I would like to visit. Just for the day, just us. I know that it’s been a while since I’ve written or seen you in person, so I’m sorry if this is sudden. If you have plans, then you can ignore this. If not, I can come over to your place. I could even bring some cake if you like. I feel like we haven’t seen each other in forever, and I want to change that.

Please let me know as soon as possible.

From,

Jeff

Todd was so stunned that he almost forgot to write back.

Once he had gained his bearings, Todd reached for his stationery set. Reaching for the nearest pen, he drafted a hasty response.

Jeff,

It’s great to hear from you! I’m glad that Joanna and the girls have been doing well. I do miss all of them as well. Please give them my regards.

I would love to have you over! No need to bring any cake or anything. I still live in the same apartment, obviously. Just stop by any time after lunch. I miss you as well and I look forward to the visit!

Todd

The letter almost didn’t feel real. Jeffrey hadn’t written in nearly a month. When he did, it always involved catching Todd up on his family followed by boring small talk about his job. This letter was brisk and to the point. Something about the situation felt strange to Todd. It seemed like Jeffrey needed to see him. Now.

Todd didn’t have much time to mull over the letter. A week went by fast, and now it was the morning of his birthday. Jeffrey would be arriving in just a few hours.

Todd tried to tidy up to the best of his abilities, not like it had made much difference. Books and old papers were moved from the center of the room to being pressed against the walls. Dishes still filled the small kitchen sink, but they were no longer on the countertops. A thin layer of dust had collected on the windowsill, but the couches and chairs in the living room were cleaned and cleared. Frankly, that was all Todd cared about.

The shrill doorbell rang then. It sounded disgusting. Todd should’ve replaced the batteries months ago. The sound made a shiver go down his spine. 

You are going to be alright. You can do this. He’s just your brother. Todd repeated those thoughts in his head as if it could magically make the whole visit easier to bear.

“Hey, Toddy!” Jeffrey exclaimed the moment Todd opened the door. He held a birthday card in one hand, the other was extended sideways in greeting. His smile was as bright and shiny as ever. He still dressed in a very business casual fashion; Todd felt like his own outfit was too relaxed in comparison.

One brief handshake later, the pair made casual small talk as Todd directed them to the living room. Todd sat in his favorite reading chair, thinking that maybe sitting comfortably could help ease his nerves. Jeffrey sat opposite him, lounging on the couch that Todd had picked up from the side of the street. Literally. 

“So,” began Jeffrey, clearing his throat, “how are things going?”

“Oh, fi-fine. Just working and all.” Todd internally cursed his stutter. It always seemed to come back in full force whenever he was around family members; Jeffrey didn’t seem to notice.

“So, uh, where’s Nancy off to today?” Jeffrey asked nonchalantly. Todd nearly asked him what he meant, when the realization dawned on him.

It wasn’t like Todd had lied, per se. He had told Jeffrey that he was going to be moving from his nice house in the suburbs to a smaller apartment in the city. If he happened to leave out the part where he and Nancy had a messy break-up, it wasn’t his fault. After all, Jeffrey was the one who made the assumption. 

“Oh, um,” Todd felt his mind blanking, “she’s just away for the afternoon. Wanted to, uh, give us the space.”

Todd cleared his throat, trying to fill the silence. Jeffrey’s face seemed to flash confusion for a moment, before returning to his friendly expression. Oxygen filled Todd’s lungs for the first time in a minute.

Clumsily, Todd rubbed his eyes, trying to think of any way to break the silence. “So, how’s the family?”

Something flashed across Jeffrey’s eyes then. He seemed to stare dazed at Todd, with an almost sad hesitation. The hesitation dissipated, replaced instead with a forced grin. It was a grin that had been shaped and perfected over the years. There didn’t seem to be any true emotion behind it; it was an act. 

“Oh, they’re alright,” Jeffrey replied. Todd squinted at him, humming in acknowledgment. 

“Well, the place looks really nice! You’ve really spruced it up,” said Jeffrey, his uncomfortable grin maintaining its place. Todd’s question seemed to have made him uneasy.

“Yeah, suppose so.” That was a lie. If anything, it was probably worse now than it was when he moved in. 

Jeffrey glanced around, eyeing the memorabilia scattered around Todd’s living room. Todd kept his eyes lowered to the floor; he absentmindedly fidgeted with a spare thread on his pants.

“Hah!” Jeffrey boasted, making Todd snap out of his thoughts with a slight jerk. “You’ve still got that soccer trophy!” Todd glanced behind him at the trophy Jeffrey was referring to.

It was a trophy from his first proper soccer tournament at Welton. Taking place in the spring, the most vivid part of the day in Todd’s mind was the grass being covered in dew and his shoes and socks getting soaked through with mud. Welton had won by a landslide, and each team member was given a small trophy. Under any other circumstance, Todd would’ve tossed it long ago. But that day was special. It was the first time all of the Poets—sans Charlie—had smiled and laughed together since Neil passed. It wasn’t the same without Neil, Charlie, or Keating, but it was a special moment for all involved.

“Oh, y-yeah. Looks nice on the shelf.”

“You know, I still have one of my Welton soccer trophies on my shelf at home. Makes for a good story for the visitors.” Todd hummed. Jeffrey continued, gesturing his hands with enthusiasm.

“I’ll never forget the story behind that trophy. I had just come back from a sprained ankle— you remember when I wrote to you about that? Anyway, my ankle was still weak and against the nurse’s advice I played anyway.” He threw his hands up by his head. “And I kicked the winning goal! With the same ankle I had sprained!” 

Todd gave a polite smile. “Good for you.”

“Those were the good days, Todd.” Jeffrey leaned back into the couch. His gaze was fixed firmly on the trophy. Todd eyed him with a mix of suspicion and worry.

Coughing, somewhat embarrassed, Jeffrey diverted the conversation. “So, uh, I read your poetry book. It was— Todd, it was amazing. Honestly. I’ve never read poetry quite like that.”

Todd’s face flushed, partially from the embarrassment of having his work praised and partially because of the nature of some of those poems.

After years of first drafts, rewrites, and constant revisions, Todd’s first poetry anthology had finally been published. When the first copy arrived in a neatly wrapped bundle of brown paper, he couldn’t wait to bring the package inside. He ripped it open right there in his dingy apartment hallway, leaving paper shreds piled on his doormat.

Golden lettering, printed on a navy blue hardcover backing, was reflective against the hallway lights. The smell of a freshly printed book wafted in the air. The title read:

Memories from the Cave

A Poetry Anthology By T. Anderson

Todd felt a jolt shoot down his spine, both from excitement and nerves. With a wide smile on his face, he opened the front cover to reveal the dedication.

To O Captain My Captain, the Poets, and, of course, Puck.

The poems vary in subject matter. The poems he wrote in his Welton years—both the spontaneous and the meticulously written—had been included. Some poems were about the experiences he had as a member of the Dead Poets Society. Others revolved around abstract thoughts and feelings he had expressed through writing over the years.

Most of the poems were about people. One was titled “The Saxophone,” and described the day Charlie first brought his saxophone to the cave. Another was named “Intellectual’s Lament.” Todd was quite proud of that poem, having written it to deal with his feelings towards Cameron. He and Cameron made up not long after the winter of 1959. Upon showing the poem to Cameron, he gave Todd what was perhaps the tightest hug he’d ever received.

The vast majority of the poems, however, were love poems. Romantic love poems.

Many of the poems he’d attempted to write about Nancy had turned into poems about more platonic love. Somehow, even when writing these poems, Todd still wasn’t able to pinpoint his feelings towards Nancy. Poems about Nancy tended to be about the little quirks in their friendship—relationship?—that made Todd smile. The way they would stay up late listening to music, for example, was the subject of one of the poems.

The poems regarding Neil were completely romantic, no doubt about it. Those from the Welton years described the things he and Neil would do; reading on the lawn, watching the sunrise, helping Neil run lines. After Neil’s passing, the poems became less romantic and more mournful, expressing how he missed certain elements of Neil’s personality. He’d stopped writing poems about Neil for the majority of the time he and Nancy were together, but Welton and Neil seemed to be all he could write about since they’d parted.

Todd made a point to keep the poems as gender-neutral as he could. Despite only using his first initial, the fear of being exposed publicly as gay was a terrifying burden to bear. Neil’s name had been changed as well—Todd had settled for calling him Puck. Even with the changes, there was no denying those poems were anything but romantic.

He didn’t know what daunted him more: the fact that Jeffrey had read his anthology in the first place or the fact that he read poems that were so blatantly romantic.

“I-I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Todd said, avoiding eye contact.

“I mean, that poem about the saxophone? Hilarious! And that one about you and Nancy was super sweet. And that Puck guy…” A beat. “You two seem close. Are you still friends?” 

Todd felt his blood turn icy. His arms broke out in goosebumps despite the warmth of his green sweater. Neil’s green sweater. Was Jeffrey implying that he knew, or was he oblivious?

“He— uh...” stammered Todd. God, could the conversation just move on already? “Y-Yeah. ‘S name’s Neil.”

“Neato. How did you two meet?”

Todd inhaled shakily, forcing a thin smile. “We we-were roommates at Welton.”

Jeffrey nodded. “Good friends then, yeah?”

Todd swallowed. “Yeah. Real close.”

“Good, good. I never liked any of my roommates. Lucky you for getting a good one!” said Jeffrey. Todd nodded in agreement. The following silence was full of unsaid words; Todd could feel every cell in his body screaming for this visit to be over. 

“S-So how’s work?”

“Oh, fine, fine,” replied Jeffrey. “I’ve got a big case going on currently. Really, it’s gonna be career-defining! It’s a murder case— you saw it in the papers, didn’t you?”

“I think so.”

“Well, I’m the prosecutor! And let me tell you—off the record, of course—this case is a shoo-in. I’ve never seen a sloppier defense in my whole career. But anyway—“ Jeffrey shifted in his chair— “enough shop talk. Legal jargon is boring. What have you been working on since your book?”

“Oh, uh,” Todd was caught by surprise, “n-nothing really.”

“Nothing at all?”

“N-not really. A poem here and there, but nothing concrete.”

“Come on, Todd, don’t sell yourself short! Are you planning anything?”

“Probably another anthology, at some point,” said Todd, without much confidence. Truth be told, he wasn’t planning on another anthology so soon, but he’d be willing to say just about anything to keep the conversation from turning awkward. Well, more awkward than it already was.

“Well, I look forward to seeing what you come up with.”

“Thanks.” He meant it. 

“Did you ever take that teaching job you were talking about?”

“For a bit, yeah.” For the whole school year, actually, but Todd kept that to himself. “I-I’m not doing it anymore, though.”

“Oh.” A pause. “What made you stop?”

Todd shrugged his shoulders. “Just didn’t want to keep doing it ‘s all.” That wasn’t a lie. Teaching just wasn’t everything Todd had expected it to be, and that was strangely okay with him. 

“Did you take another job?”

“Y-yeah.” Is this a job interview or a conversation? “Part-time at a library.”

“Neat, neat.” Again, a silence fell over the room as both men had seemingly run out of things to talk about.

Something was still bothering Todd, however. Jeffrey seemed disturbed, and Todd had noticed it right away. His shirt collar was wrinkled, his tie sloppily tied, and his face was sunken in such a way that Todd was all too familiar with. He had barely slept in days; Todd knew the feeling. 

Why had Jeffrey sent a letter so out of the blue? What event could’ve prompted a letter and a solo visit?

“Jeff, don’t— don’t take offense to this or anything, but w-why did you come here in the first place? I mean—“ Todd awkwardly chuckled- “Did you just suddenly decide to see me after a year? What’s going on, Jeff?”

Jeffrey let out a breathy laugh. “I thought I hadn’t been that obvious.” Now that caught Todd’s attention.

“Look, Todd,” he stated, “There were a few reasons why I wanted to come here. I haven’t— well, I haven’t been honest with you.” Todd raised his eyebrows, more in surprise than shock.

Jeffrey inhaled, closing his eyes and placing his hands behind his head. “Of course I wanted to come to visit you for your birthday. I would’ve done that anyway. But…I just needed to get out of the house. Joanna and I just— we aren’t doing too well. I— I think she wants to divorce me, Todd.” Jeffrey opened his eyes, looking tragically towards a very stunned Todd. Todd made a motion with his hand, pressing him to continue.

Jeffrey put his face in his hands, his elbows propped on his knees. “I just...I don’t know anymore. Things were great when we got married! And you know I love her and the girls so much. So, so much. But now, all we do is fight and fight all of the time. It’s always little things too, like staying at work too late or forgetting to put the meat out for dinner. It’s just…”

“Not the same anymore?”

“Yeah, that’s it.” He let out another brief chuckle. “I guess things change over the years. I think— I think both of us are different now. Maybe...God, I hate to say it, but maybe there wasn’t much of a spark to begin with. Or maybe the spark is long gone. I just don’t know.”

“Yeah, I get where you’re coming from,” said Todd, gazing at Jeffrey sympathetically. Jeffrey’s face scrunched in confusion. 

“What do you mean? You and Nancy are…” he trailed off then, suddenly realizing what Todd was implying. “What, do— did you two split?”

Todd tensed for a second before nodding. “‘Bout a year ago now. Spark just wasn’t there anymore.” That was certainly simplifying it. 

Jeffrey’s eyes seemed to bug out from his face, his mouth slightly ajar. “Wow I— Todd, I’m real sorry.” 

“It— It’s no big deal, really,” shrugged Todd.

“No, it’s a real bummer and I’m sorry about it.” Jeffrey leaned forward on his elbows, symbolizing his persistence. “What, uh, what caused it?”

Has he always been this obnoxiously invasive? “Just, um, just didn’t wanna keep seeing each other. That’s all.”

“Todd, don’t lie. There’s something. You were together for years! I was shocked that you weren’t married!”

“L-Look Jeff,” Todd straightened, pointing a finger at Jeffrey’s chest, “Nothing happened! I-I know that you’re going through things—and I’m very sorry about it—but you’re projecting here. We were two people who had a relationship and it ended. No big deal!”

Jeffrey threw his hands up, reclining back in his chair. “Jesus, Todd! Fine! I’m sorry I touched a nerve.”

Hands folded over his forehead, Todd let out a regretful sigh. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped.”

“It’s fine,” mumbled Jeffrey.

Silence engulfed the room. Todd could hear every breath, every creak from the couch. His—no, Neil’s—sweater felt too warm and stuffy. Some birthday visit this was turning out to be.

“Was there someone else, Todd? Another woman?”

That took Todd by complete surprise. “No! Why— why would you…” His hands were frantically gesturing to nothing as he spoke. “Why are you being so persistent about this? Why do you care?”

“There was, wasn’t there?” breathed Jeffrey. Todd rolled his eyes, turning away from him.

“No. There wasn’t a woman.” Well, technically it’s the truth.

“What’s her name?”

“Doesn’t have one because she doesn’t exist.”

“Is she pretty?”

“No.”

“When did you meet?”

“Nowhere.” Todd stood from his chair, hands rubbing against his forehead.

“How long have you known her?”

“Geez, you’re annoying.”

Jeffrey stood from the couch then, hands outstretched. “Todd, you’re being defensive. I’m just curious—” 

“Well, don’t be.”

“Todd—“

“No.”

“Buddy, please.”

“No!”

“Todd, I just want to—”

“Stop, Jeff!”

“Why are you being so—”

“Stop.”

“I don’t understand! What—”

“Neil, okay! His name was Neil!"

The noise that had filled the living room turned to icy silence. Todd’s hand clapped against his mouth. His eyes went wide upon hearing the words that left his mouth without him thinking about it. Jeffrey seemed to be having a similar crisis. Neither man said anything for a while; they both stared at each other with wide eyes and stunned expressions.

“N-Neil? Your roommate?”

Todd bit his bottom lip. “Y-Yeah. Neil.”

Jeffrey’s eyes darted back and forth as he connected the dots. “But the poems—”

“They weren’t about Nancy. It was— yeah, it was all him.”

“So that means you’re…”

“Gay,” Todd finished. He put both hands on his hips. “A homosexual. A homophile. Queer. Hell, medically I’m defined as crazy.”

Jeffrey went silent once again, his gaze turning to look at the floor. Todd rubbed his face with both hands, trying to keep any tears from falling.

After a moment, Jeffrey’s head sprung up. His eyebrows were furrowed with confusion. “Wait, what do you mean his name ‘was’ Neil?”

A recognizable feeling struck Todd’s heart, one that he’d become all too acquainted with. A feeling of a distant, yet still very fresh, pain. The leftover feelings of love that remained in his heart long after Neil’s heart stopped beating with those same emotions.

“He died. ‘Bout nine years ago now.” The words still stung to speak out loud.

“Jesus, Todd, I’m so sorry.” Jeffrey let out a mournful sigh. “May I ask what happened?”

“He, uh— he killed himself. His father—“ Todd’s mouth felt bitter even mentioning him— “He was the worst. Always strict, never approved of anything Neil did. It just— it got to be too much. Not a day goes by where I don’t wish t-that I could’ve just...I don’t know. Done more, I guess.”

“Christ. I remember that.”

“Huh?”

“Mom and Dad. They— God, they mentioned some kid had killed himself at Welton. I don’t remember everything. They just said you were helping with the investigation.”

"Well, that ‘investigation’ was crap, I can tell you that. It was just trying to shift the blame away from his dad.”

“I can see that now. And you and him…” he trailed off. “You…loved him? Like how you loved Nancy?”

The corners of Todd’s mouth quirked in a fond smile. “Very much. He loved me too. He just— he made everything so poetic and beautiful.” Todd shook his head back and forth, trying to stop himself from going on a tangent. His breath was shaky as he inhaled. For a moment, he could’ve sworn he saw Jeffrey’s bottom lip quiver. “But I didn’t love Nancy. Not like I loved him, at least. I— I was just trying to escape those feelings. But I don’t want to run now.”

“Jesus, Todd,” said Jeffrey, his voice low, “I— I don’t mind it, you know? You being...gay and all. I’m just— I’m happy that you had him. Had each other. I just— I wish you’d have told me this. I mean tell me everything, not just about him. I know we don’t talk much but jeez, sometimes I wish I could be a brother to you, ya know? The least I would’ve done was bring you some cake.” 

The dam holding Todd’s tears broke then. A mournful sob hit him, tears flowing freely down his cheeks. He didn’t even care to hide it anymore. Jeffrey stepped across the living room with his arms open, embracing Todd in the first hug they’d shared since— well, neither could recall.

And for a long while, they stood like that. Todd cried, but not from sadness. It was a cry of relief and above all, happiness. Jeffrey would’ve been lying if he said he didn’t shed a few tears of his own, except his tears were due to the situation Todd had found himself in. The hug was needed more than either man had realized. Years of being compared and contrasted, pitted against each other, all leading to a bond that felt too formal. Even through graduations, weddings, births, and deaths, every interaction had an underlying tone. One that subconsciously reminded both of the pressures put on them since childhood. A fake sincerity, perfected by years of prestigious boarding schools and stuffy parties.

But now, perhaps for the first time since childhood, they could be real brothers again. Nobody cared about the achievements anymore. There was no longer a competition. Just a mutual feeling of pain and grief and lost love. And now, after all of these years, maybe time could begin to heal those wounds.

“Happy birthday, Todd,” muttered Jeffrey as they pulled away. Todd let out a genuine laugh, wiping his final tears away.

“S-Some celebration we’ve had, huh?”

“Could’ve been worse, I suppose.”

As Todd lay in bed that night—stomach still full from the cake that Jeffrey insisted he buy—he closed his eyes to sleep, musing over the day’s events.

It felt strange now to not be constantly worried about how his parents would see him in comparison to Jeffrey. He supposed Jeffrey most likely felt a similar feeling, just reversed. 

Todd couldn’t even remember a time in his life when his parents weren’t trying to make him the perfect son, the successor to Jeffrey. He had made his home comfortably in Jeffrey’s shadow, never attempting to outgrow him. Resistance seemed futile. But now, they were equals. Both had stable jobs, a good income, and their own families—just in different forms. Their shadows were the same height now. 

Newton’s Second Law of Motion states that the acceleration of an object generates force in the same direction. Todd remembered that tidbit from the book he had, regretfully, chucked against Charlie’s wall last year. He still apologized frequently for the dent it had made, even offering to fix it.

He supposed the metaphor fit well. His parents wanted him to accelerate just like Jeffrey had. If he could just study harder, work more diligently, be better at sports, or whatever his parents had wanted, then he could be as good as Jeffrey. Todd did accelerate, just not on the same path. Maybe his parents had been too oblivious to see that both men were successful, just in different fields. After all, Todd was one for taking the road less traveled by, and he was good at it. His trajectory was unique. That thought made him proud.

Issac Newton knew how to hit close to the heart, didn’t he?

Todd drifted off to sleep peacefully that night, dreaming of a desk set being thrown off the Welton roof. This was a recurring dream. He dreamed it every year on his birthday, and every morning after was marked by bittersweet tears.

Neil smiled happily in his dream, kissing him on the cheek with a smile. “Happy 26th birthday, you old man.” Neil didn’t look like he’d aged a day. In this fantasy, neither had Todd. It felt like a perfect snowglobe moment, the only time passage marked by Neil’s words.

 If he could, Todd would never wake up.

Mr. Anderson,

Of course! My wife and I will be in town until Christmas, so there will be plenty of visiting time. I would love to meet up with you on your birthday, my boy. 

Meet me around 2 pm by the diner just off of the highway. You know, the one where Mr. Dalton was nearly arrested last year. But please, don’t tell him I brought that incident up; he seems to dislike it heavily.

See you then,

Mr. Keating

Todd was driving down the highway, the windows of his car rolled down. Crisp, chilly air was circulating through the open windows. A soft blanket of copper-toned leaves covered the dying grass. The temperature was perfect for wearing sweaters and spending time cozied up indoors with a good book. Well, not that Todd didn’t do that anyway, but now he had an excuse.

Lots had happened since his last birthday. For starters, Jeffrey visited more frequently. In fact, he had lived on Todd’s couch for a few weeks following his divorce finalization. The competitive tension felt nonexistent now, and both men couldn’t be more thankful for that.

Shortly after, Todd began work on a new writing project. This one was completely different from the previous projects. Todd was writing a novel. Progress was slow—and that was putting it nicely. Every page went through at least ten rewrites because nothing seemed good enough. But hey, he was writing it, and that was what mattered.

Todd snapped out of his thoughts as the neon diner sign loomed on the side of the road. He turned off of the highway and pulled into the small parking lot. To his delight, Keating was already there, sitting on the hood of his car. Todd parked next to him.

“O Captain! My Captain!” greeted Todd as he stepped out of the car, shutting the door behind him. Keating smiled warmly. “Mr. Anderson! A pleasure to see you, as always.” The two embraced each other, with loud laughs that made other patrons turn their heads. 

“It’s good to see you, my boy.”

“Likewise, Cap.”

Keating adjusted his blazer. “Shall we get some food then?”

Todd gestured towards the door with his arm. “Of course. After you.”

The small talk was light and breezy as the two men ate their hamburgers in a small corner booth. Todd told Keating about the whole Jeffrey situation; Keating seemed pleased that the two had made up. In turn, Keating told Todd all about his retirement in London.

“Lots of delicious meals, lazy days, and plenty of books to read,” he described. 

"It sounds like paradise.”

“It’s certainly the closest thing to it.”

Keating wiped the corners of his mouth with a napkin. “So, how are the rest of the boys?”

Todd was often the one who kept Keating in the know about the others. Keating and the other Poets had kept in contact sporadically throughout the years. Not as frequent as Todd had, of course, but an effort was made. It wasn’t always easy. Communications were scarcer now. Everyone had busy lives and thus, letters and calls weren’t as constant.

“Well, Charlie is still kicking around in Vermont.”

Keating gave an amused chuckle. “Still playing that saxophone, I assume?”

“Loud and proud,” said Todd, grinning. “He’s taking a break from New York. Living in his parents’ old place again. He told me he wants to volunteer at Henley Hall again this coming season. I think he might have a real future with directing, ya know?”

“If you had asked the old me, I would’ve laughed in your face and said that there was no way!” said Keating, taking on an intense gusto at the end. “But…Mr. Dalton might have found his true calling after all. He’s a man of many talents, I can tell you that. How’s Mr. Cameron?”

“Have you heard he’s got a kid now?”

Keating’s eyebrows shot up. “No, I haven’t! Do tell.”

“It was quite the saga, Captain. He’s in New York working for this accounting firm. He ended up meeting someone, and this someone had a daughter. They dated for...God, I wanna say over a year? He wanted to marry him but...you know.”

“The ignorance of the government?”

“Precisely. Anyway, they were super close. Then...well, he died a few months ago. Unexpected heart attack.”

“My goodness…”

“Yeah, I know. Since the girl’s mother is gone too, Cameron was— he wanted to step up. He got official custody just a few weeks ago.” Todd paused for a moment. “I’ve never seen him happier. He loves that girl with every ounce of his being.”

Keating had a hand over his heart, his expression softening from the fondness he felt. “What’s her name? How old is she?”

“Angela. I think she’s about four or so.”

“A darling name. I hope I can meet her one day. Is he still in New York?”

“For the time being. Though the last time I spoke to him, he was talking about potentially moving back to Vermont.”

“I hope he does,” Keating paused for a sip of tea. “Are Mr. Meeks and Mr. Pitts still exploring the cosmos?”

“Oh yeah! They helped with the moon landing!”

“Did they!” Keating beamed with pride. “I always knew those two would do something fantastic with their skills.”

“They’re on another project now. Another moon mission, they say. Apparently, they’re wanting to send more people up there.”

“Well, with them working on it, I have no doubt it’ll be a great success.”

“I’m sure it will be,” agreed Todd.

“I hate to interrupt you, but it seems I’m out of tea. Excuse me?” Keating raised a hand towards the waitress. She stopped in her tracks, turning towards the booth.

“What can I do for you?” asked the waitress. She was a very chipper woman, with strawberry blonde hair that was drawn up in a loose bun. Her smile was gentle and polite.

“Could I get another cup of tea? Chamomile, please.”

“Of course, sir!” she chipperly responded. She scribbled something down on her notepad, before heading off in the direction of the kitchen.

Keating cleared his throat. “Now, where were we? Oh! How is Mr. Overstreet doing?”

“Last I heard from him, he’s still doing lawyer stuff in Chicago. His wife is doing really well. The last time he called me was to tell me that she’s pregnant, actually.”

“Well, good for them!” said Keating, with a jovial tone.

“Yeah. I’m really happy for him. He told me he’s already buying clothes and toys. She’s only two months pregnant!”

“He’s going to spoil that child rotten, bless him.”

“I mean, what would we really expect?” Both men laughed at that. The waitress returned then with a piping-hot cup of tea; Keating thanked her kindly.

“So, Todd,” Keating took a long sip from his tea, exhaling sharply at the warmth, “what about you? What have you been working on recently?”

Todd rubbed the back of his neck, feeling it flush from embarrassment. He never cared to talk about his most recent projects, especially when said projects were barely started.

“N-Nothing much, truth be told.” Keating gave him a look. A look that seemed to stare into Todd’s heart and mind and tell that he was lying. Todd sighed, knowing that resistance was going to be futile.

“Okay, fine. I have been throwing another idea around, but not much has come of it yet.”

“I mean this in the most complimentary of ways, but please do tell how you intend to perfect upon your masterpiece of a poetry anthology?” Now it was time for Todd’s face to flush too.

"Hey, you’ve got some bias! You taught me to write that poetry.”

“Well, I certainly can’t take credit for everything. But go on. What’s the idea?”

“Well…” Todd paused, trying to articulate his abstract idea into something understandable. “I want to write a memoir. About Welton.” Todd took Keating’s glassy eyes and intrigued expression as a signal to continue.

“It’s just— It’s a huge part of my life and for obvious reasons, I’ve tried to put it all in the past. But recently...I don’t know. I just keep getting the urge to write it down. And maybe it won’t be a memoir at all. Maybe I’ll turn it into a story. Maybe I won’t even do it. I’ve been trying to write it, but nothing has been clicking yet, you know? I keep discarding every page I write. I want to remember the good moments, you know? I want to encourage people to seize the day. I want—”

Todd cut himself off, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I want Neil’s story to be told. And I know that even thinking about it still stings, and writing it will be worse, but I just— he deserves to be admired by more people.”

Keating took a long and thoughtful sip of tea.

The topic of Neil took lots of getting used to at first. Neil never came up in one of their letters until Keating mentioned finding an old Welton photo in his storage almost two years after Neil’s passing. “Acceptance” is a word neither of them would describe their grief now, especially after Todd’s conversation with Charlie. But after years of silence, talking about Neil felt more comfortable now, and that was all either of them could ask for.

“Todd, listen to me, okay? You have got to write this story.” 

Todd glanced up, making eye contact with Keating. His eyes conveyed a sense of sincerity and a spooky sense of urgency.

“I have had a lot of students over in England since Neil’s death. Teaching was just...never the same after all of that. That was part of the reason I retired earlier than I would’ve liked. I won’t harp on that because you know that already. But I cannot begin to tell you how many young boys came into my classroom with similar situations to that of Neil’s. And I couldn't do a thing about it. I couldn’t deal with another repeat situation. Now Todd—” he leaned over the table slightly, his voice remained quiet and low— “I cannot bear to see another fine, talented, extraordinary young man leave before his time because he feels like his world is crumbling around him. The world needs this story, Todd! I strongly encourage you to write this down, even if you have to scrap it thousands of times before you get it right.”

Keating sat back down, resuming sipping his tea. Todd sat stunned, amazed at Keating’s sudden nonchalant attitude. Never before had he heard Keating speak with so much raw conviction. In its own way, it was almost frightening, knowing the personal hell he’d gone through. Todd supposed their grief was similar in many ways. Both truly loved Neil; Keating loved him as a son and Todd loved him romantically.

Keating had an excellent point. Maybe writing the story would help someone. Maybe it would even help Todd.

“God, Captain,” Todd said under his breath after many moments of thoughtful silence. Keating had finished his second cup of tea and was now staring aimlessly out the window. “I’ve got to write this story.” Todd gave a relieved chuckle. “I’ve got to write this story.”

Keating looked at Todd with a sense of pride. Todd felt like his brain was going a million miles a minute.

“I mean, should I change everyone’s names? I could pretend it’s fiction. Can Welton hold me accountable for that? Or I could write under a pseudonym! Something real simple...Tom maybe? That’s simple enough. But what should I even call it? There can’t be a book without a name and—“

“I think you should call it ‘Dead Poets Society.’” 

Todd hadn’t noticed that he was rambling to himself until Keating spoke up. “I think I will, Captain. I like it a lot.” Keating warmly smiled. “What parts of Welton do you want to showcase?”

Todd pondered that question for a moment. “I...I guess from my first day to your last day. I think that’ll do it. Maybe I could do an epilogue of sorts but— I don’t know. It might be better just to leave it like that, you know? Give it a hopeful ending.”

“And what parts of...Neil’s situation do you think you’ll include?”

Todd paused again, reminiscing on the things Neil had told him about his personal life. The things he had told him in the dark of night when he needed to get it off of his mind. “I want to reiterate what he told me. I want to tell the true story.”

“Todd, I do have one concern about this,” Keating’s voice took on a warbled, worried tone, “what if his father finds out about this? I mean, he deserves him, but you could get in real trouble.”

“Tom Perry died just last week, Captain.” A part of Todd’s mind felt terrible for being happy about that; he had smiled so big that it hurt his cheeks when Cameron called him to tell him the news. He did not doubt that Keating currently felt a similar way. When a man that caused so much pain upon so many people passes, it’s difficult not to feel a bizarre sense of relief and joy.

“Forgive me for saying this, but I’m beyond happy to hear it.” Keating allowed himself a brief smirk, before returning to his neutral expression. “And his mother? How is she?”

“She’s still alive. Just— she’s very different. And I don’t blame her in the slightest.”

“My thoughts are with her. I hope that she can find a little peace now.”

“Yeah, I hope so too,” said Todd. “I think she’d let me write this, though. I can ask her, of course.”

“Of course,” repeated Keating. He glanced down at his empty teacup for a moment, pondering something. “And Todd? What about...you and Neil?”

Todd knew what he meant. He told Keating everything about him and Neil long ago. Hell, Todd was convinced he had known the entire time; he always seemed to have a knowing look in his eyes. Todd couldn’t help but wonder what had given it away. Were they just that obvious, or was Keating great at observation?

“I think I’ll put in some bits and pieces. Nothing too overt. Partially for— well, for my safety, even if I write under an alias. And partially because, selfish as this might be, I want to keep that part for myself. But I think that the people who need it the most will know where to find it. The people who see it and relate to it will enjoy it.”

“Well said, Mr. Anderson.”

“It’s the poet in me,” joked Todd. 

The sun was beginning to set outside of the window. Crimson light was pouring into the diner. Most of the lunch patrons were clearing out as the dinner crowd rolled in. Waiters and cooks were trading shifts. The fluorescent lighting felt harsher on Todd’s eyes now that the soft sunlight was vanishing. Despite the occasional chilly breeze drifting in from the open door, Todd felt completely warm. He felt inspired. He felt happy.

Todd looked at a clock on the wall. “Well, I hate to break up this meeting, Captain, but it’s getting pretty late.”

Keating looked at the clock as well. He gasped. “My wife will kill me for staying out so late. You young people and your rebellious sides!” he said, jokingly. Todd laughed along with him. “Shall we then, Cap?”

The two men walked back towards their respective cars once the payment—alongside a hefty tip for the waitress for putting up with them—had been paid.

The sky had erupted in a stunning merge of pink and orange. Rays of light were formed in the sky thanks to the cloud formation. Crickets began their song, only interrupted by an occasional car zooming by on the highway. 

“Oh, before I forget—“ Keating trotted to the passenger door of his car, reaching for something sitting on the seat. He pulled out a book and offered it to Todd— “this is for you.”

Todd looked at the book with awe. It was a red hardcover book, with gold lettering on the front cover and spine. A lace pattern was printed along the spine; the orange and tan tones blended well with the vibrant red cover. The lettering read The Works of Oscar Wilde. 

“Happy birthday, Todd.” 

Todd was at a complete loss for words. For once, it was in a good way. “Captain I— I have no idea what to say.”

Keating held up a hand to silence him. “It’s my pleasure. I hope you enjoy it.” His smile was warm as he walked around to the driver’s side and opened the door. “I’ll call you sometime soon. I must see Mr. Dalton at some point while I’m here. His presence and personality are sorely missed.”

“Thank you again, Captain."

“Anytime.” He waved to Todd as he climbed into the car. Todd waved back somewhat dazed, the awe on his face never left. Keating cranked up his car—which made an awful creaking noise—and drove out of the parking lot, into the night.

Todd, still standing dazed, opened the front cover of his new prized possession. Inside, messy handwriting that Todd identified immediately as Keating’s was scribbled on the inside cover.

Todd,

Newton’s third law states that every action has an equal and opposite reaction. You publishing your wonderful works was quite an action, one that I know will change lives. In the future, your life’s work will be stored in some dusty old anthology similar to this one. One day, some random kid, bright-eyed and curious, will pick your book off of the shelf. They’ll read that anthology late into the night, wondering if they too could write poetry as fantastic as this. Your work will inspire that kid just like how Mr. Wilde’s work has no doubt inspired you similarly. That is the reaction, all thanks to your action. 

Todd, never forget that YOU are the future.

Here’s to many more celebrations and many more stories to be told.

-Keating

Todd couldn’t help but shed a tear.

A light dusting of snow was beginning to fall, turning the dead fallen leaves a vibrant shade of white. The air was completely still, only interrupted by the occasional breeze. Todd’s nose was pink, and his lungs stung with every breath. Nothing seemed to move; it was as if the world was preserved in a snow globe. 

These were not the greatest conditions to visit a loved one’s grave, but that was what Todd was doing anyway. Because today wasn’t just any normal day.

It was December 15th.

Todd heard the leaves and ice crunching underneath his feet. Some melted ice sloshed around his boots; he made a mental note to buy a new pair. He shoved his fists deeper into the pockets of his heavy coat. Even with three layers of clothing, the wind still bit at his skin. Snowflakes had already nestled in his hair. Todd made his way to his destination in silence.

After following the winding gravel pathway for a few minutes, he was standing in front of a site that he hadn’t visited for nearly ten years.

The grave still looked decently new, apart from some moss and water damage around the edges. Fresh snow had already dusted the area.

A floral bouquet sat on top of the land and snow. It was a simple arrangement, though Todd could tell that it had to have been custom ordered. After all, not all florists sell a bouquet containing only red roses and pip berry branches. Miraculously, there was not nearly as much snow on the bouquet as there was everywhere else. Someone else had been here already. Recently.

Todd sat in front of the grave plot, not minding the cold of the ground or the melted ice seeping through his clothes. He stared blankly at the grave’s inscription.

Neil W. Perry

June 2, 1942 - December 15, 1959

Beloved Son

“Beloved” son, thought Todd. That’s rich coming from you, Tom Perry.  

Todd glanced around to ensure that nobody was nearby. Nobody was, and he knew that. He just needed to make sure that nobody would see him talking to a grave. 

Todd cleared his throat, speaking in a quiet, warbly tone. “H-Hi, Neil.”

God, I feel kind of stupid, he thought. He took a shaky breath, the cold air stinging his lungs before he continued again.

“I know I haven’t exactly been the best visitor,” he chuckled, “but...it’s been difficult.”

Somewhere distant, a branch fell under the pressure of the snow. Todd swore he could hear some woodland creature scurrying around in the leaves.

“I just…” he continued. “I couldn’t face it for the longest time, Neil. I pushed everything to the back of my mind and I kept it there. God, Neil, I did some real stupid stuff, you know? I dated a friend of mine and it ended in flames. I buried myself in work. I ran away from everything.” Todd felt a lump in his throat. He tried to ignore the tears that were threatening to fall.

“B-but, I did some really good things too. I published some of my poems, specifically the Welton ones. And it helped me just a little bit. I have two nieces now too. They’re adorable, Neil. You’d love them both and they would love you.”

Todd’s breath was showing in the cold as he laughed. “And you should see Charlie now! He’s a traveling musician. He, uh, he volunteers a lot at Henley Hall. I think he’s got a real future in directing stage shows. I— I don’t think he would’ve realized that talent if it weren’t for you. Actually—“ Todd rubbed his hands together in an attempt to warm them. He stared contemplatively at the grave plot.

“I don’t think any of us would be who we are today if it weren’t for you, love. It’s all thanks to you.”

This time, Todd let some of the tears fall. It made his face feel even colder, but he didn’t mind it.

“I miss you every day. I thought it was— well, stupid, I guess. I figured I should’ve gotten over you a long time ago. But...I didn’t. I don’t think a part of me ever will. I loved you so much, you know? I still do, genuinely. And so does Charlie and Keating and everybody. That’s why I wanted to visit.”

Todd reached a hand into his thick winter coat. He pulled out his Oscar Wilde book from the inside pocket. “I brought some poetry. It’s not mine, sorry, but you’ve heard most of it in the past already.” Todd fumbled with the pages, finally stumbling upon a poem that he wanted to read.

“I’m going to read you some Oscar Wilde. I remember how much you used to pester me to read to you,” Todd said with a wide smile. “Well, you’ve got your wish, Perry.”

And he sat there until the sun was long past the horizon, reading poetry and speaking his thoughts to the air. When the cold had become too unbearable even with his thick clothing layers, he stood up, planted a kiss on the headstone, and walked back to his car.

When Todd arrived back at his apartment, he walked hastily towards his desk. His typewriter sat there waiting for him. Todd sat on his broken desk chair and frantically loaded paper into the machine. Twice he jammed the paper from rushing too fast. His typing was speedy; he couldn’t stop the spark of inspiration that had struck him.

Maybe this was the first major step towards closure. Perhaps this could be the break that he needed. 

Or maybe, just maybe, he had been making minor strides already without acknowledging it. The days of feeling nervous on his birthday seemed far behind him now. He no longer shivered when it came time to blow out the candles. His birthday could be his own now, and he loved that.

Maybe he should reach out to Nancy again. Not to get back together, obviously, but just to rekindle the friendship they had had for so many years. Todd always did admire her. Dating her was a step too far—they both knew that now. Perhaps they could make something good come out of a rather sticky situation.

Maybe he should stop by Jeffrey’s new place. He’d have to ask when his next weekend with the girls would be. It had been far too long—did time pass so quickly? They were getting so big already! It felt like only yesterday that Todd was attending kindergarten graduations. He made a mental note to call Jeffrey tomorrow morning.

Maybe Keating knew exactly what he was doing by prying this story idea out of Todd’s brain. Todd was nearly certain that Keating could always see right through the jumbled mess that was his mind. The man always had a knack for untangling any problem he came across. 

And after a year of constant revisions and rewrites, a new manuscript made its way to the publisher’s desk. It was packaged nicely inside of a large tan envelope. The thickness of the book was apparent, even through the packaging. On the front, written in elegant cursive, was the title of the book the package contained. A book that had been a labor of love, grief, and the spirit of sucking the marrow out of life:

Dead Poets Society

A novel by T. Anderson