I just started this Dead Poets Fanfiction. It is a Neil/OC story. Make sure you let me know what you think. Warnings for this chapter: cursing and abuse
I could hear the chaos of boys settling into their dorm rooms through my door. Everyone seemed to be asked how everyone else's summer was. Somewhere close by someone lit a cigarette. I almost laughed at the familiar smell. A lit cigarette was the reason I was here in the first place. I got kicked out of the all girls boarding school I had been attending for smoking in my dorm room.
In the hallway I heard some kind of argument. It sounded like it was between a father and son. I pressed my ear to the door and listened. When the argument was over and the conversation in the hallway was between teenagers again I opened my door and stepped out. "He seems like a real asshole," I commented. All three boys turned and stared at me. "Any of you got a cigarette?" There was a silence for a minute than one of the boys took a pack out of his pocket. Wordlessly he handed a single cigarette to me. I looked down at it and then at him, "How exactly am I supposed to smoke an unlit cigarette?"
"Sorry, I've got a lighter here somewhere," he said reaching into a pocket, "I'm Charles Dalton by the way. People call me Charlie."
"I see," I remarked, lighting my cigarette.
"You should probably smoke it in a room," one of the other boys said, "It's not exactly allowed."
"Yeah," I said, "That's kind of why I'm here."
The third boy spoke then, "I'm Knox Overstreet," he said, And, um, who exactly are you and why are you here?"
"I'm Maureen Watson," I told him.
"That doesn't answer the question," Charlie commented.
"Holy shit," Knox said, "She must be related to Mr. Watson."
"That's my old man," I told them.
"So why are you here?" Charlie asked.
"Seriously," the boy with the asshole father said, "It's really not a good idea to smoke in the hallway."
"I'm here because I'm going to the public school in town," I told them as we all stepped into a room, "Got kicked out of the last boarding school."
"Neil who's the girl?" a kid asked, I guess Neil is the guy with the jerk dad.
"This is Mr. Watson's daughter," Charlie said.
"Wait Mr. Watson has a daughter," another kid said, "Isn't he like seventy."
"Close," I told him, "56."
"So are you living on campus?" Neil asked.
"Yeah," I told him, "The room next to this one."
"I guess we're next door neighbors then," Neil said, "This is my roommate Todd." He pointed to a scared looking kid sitting at one of the desks in the room.
That night at dinner I looked around the crowded dinner room. I had absolutely no idea where I was supposed to sit so I just joined the boys I had met earlier.
"Hi Todd," I said, "Mind if I sit here?"
"Sure," he muttered, "Go ahead."
All the boys looked at me when I sat down. "So," I said, "How's the food here?"
"Like everything else," Neil told me, "Welcome to Hellton."
"Who is this?" One of the boys asked.
"That's Cameron," Charlie told me, "He isn't ever any fun."
"I take my academics seriously," Cameron said, "Anyway who is the girl?"
"Maureen Watson," I answered him.
"Last time I checked Welton was an all boys school," he stated.
"It still is. I just live on campus. Don't you worry," I teased him, "I won't be too much of a distraction"
Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder, "Maureen," my father said, "Can we talk in the hallway?" I stood up and he practically dragged me out of the room. "First you get yourself kicked out of school," he exclaimed, "Now you're flirting with the boys here! You are only here because no boarding school would take you. Do you have any idea how embarrassing that is to me?"
"I'm sorry," I told him swallowing my pride.
"Sorry doesn't change the fact that I had to go to my boss and explain why you staying here is the only option!" He shouted, shaking me violently as he spoke, "There is nowhere else for you to go! Do you understand that?"
"I do," I told him, "I'm sorry. I just didn't know where I was supposed to sit."
"You are turning into your mother," he yelled, "She was just like you. A no good whore!"
"I'm not a whore," I protested.
"Shut up," he shoved me against the wall, "Don't," he pulled my body away from the wall and then forcefully banged me back against it, "argue," bang, "With," bang, "me," bang, bang, bang, "Do you understand?" I nodded, "You better not," he cursed, "this up."
"I won't," I told him.
"You damn well better not," he said, delivering a punch to my stomach and then walking away. I doubled over in pain grimacing.
"Are you okay?" I heard Neil ask.
"Fine," I said forcing myself to stand.
"I saw the whole thing, Maureen," he told me, "There's no way you're fine after that."
"It's no big deal," I lied.
"Yeah it is," he insisted, "How often does he get like that?"
"Neil," I said, "I literally met you four hours ago, stay out of my family life"
The boys spent the next day in class but public school didn't start for another week. For a while I stayed in my room trying to keep myself entertained. Eventually I got really bored and found myself wondering aimlessly around the school. I took a turn and found myself face to face with a class full of boys. "Oh captain my captain," the teacher said, "Who know what that comes from?"
"It's Walt Whitman isn't it?" I said, when nobody else spoke.
"Very good," he said, "You're Miss. Watson I assume."
"Maureen," I told him, "Do you mind if I join your class?"
"Not at all," he said, "Now boys in this class you can either call me Mr. Keating or if you're slightly more daring 'Oh captain my captain'. Allow me to dispel a few rumors so they don't fester into facts. Yes I too attended Hellton and survived. And no at that time I was not the mental giant you see before you. I was the intellectual equivalent of a ninety-eight pound weak link. I'd go to the beach and people would kick copies of Bryon at my face. Now Mr. Pitts, that's a rather unfortunate name, Mr. Pitts where are you? Mr. Pitts open your book to page 542 read the first stanza of the poem you find there."
"To the virgins to make much of time," Pitts asked. There were a few snickers and giggles. Charlie grinned.
"Yes, c'mon, somewhat appropriate isn't it," Mr. Keating said, I have to say that at that point my respect for this teacher was rapidly increasing. This was new to me; I have never met a teacher I respected before.
"Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, old time is still a flying, and this same flower that smiles today tomorrow will be dying," Pitts read aloud.
"Thank you Mr. Pitts," Mr. Keating said, "Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, the Latin term for that sentiment is carpe diem, who knows what that means?"
"Carpe diem," a boy said, "That's seize the day."
"Very good Mr.," Mr. Keating paused.
"Meeks," the boy told him.
"Meeks," Mr. Keating said, "Another unusual name. Seize the day, gather ye rosebuds while ye may, why does the writer use these lines?"
"Cause he's in a hurry," Charlie joked.
"No, ding." Mr. Keating told him, "Thank you for playing anyway. Because we are food for worms lads and lady," he added with a look in my direction, "Because believe it or not each and every one of us in this room is one day going to stop breathing, turn cold and die. I'd like you to step forward over here," he walked to the display case holding pictures of former students, "Peruse some of the faces of the faces from the past. You've walked past them many times. I don't think you've really looked at them." All of the boys stepped up to look at the pictures, "They're not that different from you are they?" Mr. Keating continued, "Same haircuts, full of hormones just like you. Invincible just like you feel. The world is their oyster. They believe they're destined for great things. Just like many of you. Their eyes are full of hope just like you. Did they wait until it was too late to make from their lives even one iota of what they were capable? Because you see gentlemen and lady these boys are now fertilizing daffodils. If you listen real close You can hear them whisper their legacy to you. Go on lean in. Listen you hear." He leaned up behind the boys and began to whisper, "Carpe, carpe, carpe diem, seize the day boys. Make your lives extraordinary."
The class ended and I walked with the boys outside. "That was weird," Pitts commented.
"But different" Neil said.
"Spooky if you ask me," Knox added.
"Do you think he'll test us on that stuff?" Cameron asked.
"Oh come on Cameron don't you get anything?" Charlie said.
"What?" Cameron asked, "What?"
"If you need to ask Cameron you probably won't understand," I told him.
"But I want to," he said.
"You academic types," I said, trying to explain, "You're very bright. You get math, science, Latin, everything I'm horrible at. But when it comes to more spiritual stuff like poetry you're kind of in the dark. You need to stop thinking of Mr. Keating class as a class and start thinking of it as an experience."
"She's right," said Charlie, "Mr. Keating's class is not math."
"Where are you boys headed off to next?" I asked.
"Showers," Knox said, "Then dinner, then study group."
"Sounds exciting," I joked.
"Hey," Charlie said, "What are they doing about you and showering?"
"I'm to take my showers while you boys are otherwise occupied with a teacher standing guard at the door," I told him, "So know there's no chance of you seeing anything, sorry."
The rest of the boys went off to the shower room but Neil stayed back, "Are you avoiding me?" he asked me.
"No," I said distantly, "Course not. Go take your shower."
"Okay," he said, "See you around."