Dead Poets Society

breast. He dropped his head back and closed his eyes while he slowly caressed Chris.
    Thinking that Chet’s hands were on her, Chris responded eagerly and Knox started breathing heavily. “Oh, Chet, that feels fabulous,“ Chris said in the dark.
    “It does?” Chet sounded surprised. “What?”
    “You know,” she said secretively.
    Knox pulled his hand away. Chet looked up for a moment and then kissed Chris again. “Don’t stop, Chet,” Chris moaned.
    “Stop what?”
    “Chet...”
    Knox put his hand back on Chris’s neck and started rubbing her, gently moving down toward her breast.
    “Oh, oh,” Chris moaned.
    Chet pulled back, trying to figure out what Chris was talking about, but he gave up and started to kiss her again. Chris moaned with pleasure.
    Knox leaned his head back on the sofa. His breathing was slow and deep. The sound of the music in the room grew louder. Unable to resist, he rubbed Chris’s chest, getting dangerously close to her breast. Chris was breathing hard now, too. Knox felt himself slip into ecstasy just as his glass fell out of his hand.
    Suddenly, Chet’s hand grabbed Knox’s hand, and a lamp light rudely flicked on. Knox sat face to face with a furious Chet and Chris, who was totally confused.
    “What are you doing?” Chet yelled.
    “Knox?” Chris shielded her eyes from the sudden light.
    “Chet! Chris!” Knox said, pretending to be surprised. “What are you doing here?”
    “Why you...” Chet screamed. He smashed Knox in the face with his fist, grabbed him by the shirt and, throwing him to the floor, jumped on him. He began swinging at Knox’s face, which Knox tried desperately to protect. “You little jerk!” Chet shouted. Chris tried to pull him away.
    “Chet, you don’t have to hurt him,” Chris said. Chet’s fist hit Knox over and over again.
    “Chet, stop! He didn’t mean anything!” Chris cried. She pushed Chet off. Knox rolled over, holding his face. “That’s enough,” Chris yelled, hanging on Chet’s chest, trying to get him away.
    Chet stood over Knox, who lay limply holding his bloody nose and bruised face. “I’m sorry, Chris, I’m sorry,” Knox cried.
    “You want some more, you little... Huh? Get the hell out of here!”
    Chet moved at Knox again, but Chris and some of the others held him back. Several of the kids led Knox out of the room.
    Staggering toward the kitchen, Knox turned and yelled, drunkenly, “Chris, I’m sorry!”
    “Next time I see you, you’re dead!” Chet screamed.

    The Dead Poets Society was still convened, unaware that one of its pledges was in deep trouble.
    In the cave the fire burned brightly, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Gloria sat with her arm around Charlie, staring at him in adoration. The bottle of whiskey passed between Tina and the others.
    “Hey guys, why don’t you show Tina the Dead Poets garden?” Charlie said, nodding toward the cave entrance.
    “Garden?” Meeks said, sounding surprised.
    “What garden?” Pitts echoed.
    Charlie silently motioned with his eyes for Pitts and the others to get lost. Neil caught on and elbowed Pitts, who got the hint.
    “Oh, right. That garden. Come on, guys, he said.
    “This is so strange!” Tina said, sounding confused. “You guys even have a garden?“
    Everyone had left the cave except Meeks, who stood around looking baffled. “What are you guys talking about?” Meeks asked. Charlie stared at him with daggers in his eyes. “Charles, uh, Nuwanda we don’t have a garden,“ Meeks said.
    Neil came back in and pulled Meeks out. “Come on, you idiot!” Neil laughed.
    Charlie waited for them to go. He looked at Gloria and smiled. “God, for a smart guy, he’s so stupid!”
    Gloria stared into Charlie’s eyes. Charlie smiled. “I think he’s sweet,” she said.
    “I think you’re sweet, ” Charlie sighed, closing his eyes and leaning in slowly to kiss her. Just as his lips brushed hers, Gloria stood up.
    “You know what really excites me about you?” she asked.
    Blinking, Charlie looked up. “What?”
    “Every guy that I meet wants me for one thing.... You’re not like that.”
    “I’m not?”
    “No!” she smiled. “Anybody else would have been all over me by now. Make me up some more poetry,” she said.
    “But...” Charlie stammered.
    “Please! It’s so wonderful to be appreciated for... you know... what you have inside.” Charlie groaned and put his hand over his face. Gloria turned and looked at him. “Nuwanda?