𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘴 ೃ⁀➷ 𝘴. 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘴

𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑮𝑯 𝑴𝑨𝑵

(a.n- i just got the dps book,, so chapters will be more accurate to the original story,, happy holidays!)

"Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go."

Dinner came around soon enough. Boys quickly stormed through the cafeteria doors, almost begging for food, which was a rare enough occasion itself. Someone had gotten wind that the cooks would be serving something relatively edible, which was enough conformation for the rest of the school to go insane. 'Finally,' Neil had said, 'a meal we can eat without worrying how it will effect our reproductive system!' Iris had found this quite hilarious and couldn't stop her laughter, which carried on at quite inappropriate times in her next period.

"For what we are about to receive," the students and teachers of Welton recited, "may the lord make us truly grateful. Amen" Taking their seats, Mr. Keating and Mr. McAllister began their battle.

"Quite an interesting class you had today, Mr. Keating," the man said sarcastically.

"Sorry if I shocked you," He acknowledged.

McAllister shook his head, mouth already full of the sad excuse of a change in menu. "No need to apologize. It was quite fascinating, as misguided as it was." The man's tone was harsh as he glared at the side of the teacher's head.

Mr. Keating, who looked quite preoccupied with scooping mashed potatoes- which were the only good food at Hellton- onto his plate. "You think so?"

"You take a big risk by encouraging them to become artists, John. When they realize that they're not Rembrandts, Shakespeares or Mozarts, they'll hate you for it." His accent was thick as he tried, and failed, to explain the dangers of the teacher's plans.

"We're not talking artists, George. We're talking free thinkers!"

The man chuckled at the thought. "Free thinkers at age seventeen?"

"I hardly pegged you for a cynic," Keating said, loading more food onto his plate.

"Not a cynic," the man retorted, "a realist. 'Show me the hearts unfettered by foolish dreams, and I'll show you a happy man.'"

"'But only in their dreams can men be truly free. 'Twas always thus, and always thus will be.'"

"Tennyson?" McAllister questioned, unfamiliar with the poem.

"No." Mr. Keating smugly glanced down at his dinner before meeting the man's eye again. "Keating."

-

"I can't believe Keating almost got heated with McAllister!" Exclaimed Gerald, who was shoving his mouth full with some odd, green mash.

"Gerald," Iris scolded, handing him a napkin, "chew or talk. One at a time, I swear you have the mentality of a toddler!" Knox snickered at her actions, earning him an icy glare from the girl. Steven licked his lips and smiled, an amused expression on his face as he looked down at Iris. She turned to him and picked up a napkin, which she used to wipe a small bread crumb off his collar.