Meet You Halfway

CHAP. 3

   "You may be seated"

   Mr. Keating took his seat next to Mr. McAllister. "What an interesting class you gave today, Mr. Keating."

   "Sorry if I shocked you, Mr. McAllister." Mr. Keating scooped mashed potatoes onto another teacher's plate with a smile. "Oh, there's no need to apologize. It was very fascinating- misguided though it was."

   "Oh, you think so?" McAllister nods. "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."

   "We're not talking artists, George. We're talking free thinkers." Mr. McAllister snickers. "Free thinkers at 17?"

   "Funny, I never pegged you as a cynic."

   "Not a cynic... a realist. 'Show me the hearts unfettered by foolish dreams, and I'll show you a happy man.'" Mr. McAllister turns to face Keating.

   Mr. Keating counters by quoting, "But only in their dreams can men be truly free. 'Twas always thus, and always thus will be."

   "Tennyson?"

   "-No. Keating." Mr. Keating winked at his fellow associate, making him chuckle.

   On the other side of the cafeteria, Neil placed himself at the table between Charlie and Knox. "Hey, I found his senior annual in the library." He passed an open book across the table to Todd, Cameron, and Pitts. "Listen to this- "Captain of the soccer team, editor of the school annual, Cambridge-bound, thigh man, and the Dead Poets Society." Neil took a bite of his dinner. Cameron takes his turn reading from the annual. "Man most likely to do anything."

   Charlie cuts in. " ”Thigh man”. Mr. K was a hell-raiser." "Still is apparently. Can't imagine that Mr. Nolan appreciates him bringing a girl on campus." Meeks states. Suddenly, Meeks, Charlie, Neil, and Knox are being shoved over. (Y/n) takes a seat at the table. "What are you doing-" "Shhh…keep it down." She cuts off Cameron. "What are you doing here?" Pitts asks in a hushed tone. "Oh, I don't know. I got bored. Didn't want to eat by myself." She looks over at his plate. "Are you going to eat those?" She motions to the leftover potatoes on Pitts's plate. He shakes his head and pushes the plate toward her. She smiles sweetly. "Thanks." Pitts grins. "Yeah, of course." Cameron nudges his side, shaking his head.

   "What's that?" (Y/n) nods to the book in front of Cameron. Neil grabs it and hands it to her. "Your father's old senior annual." She picks it up, tracing the words as she reads. "Dead Poets Society…God, I forgot about that." A breathy laugh escaped through her smile. "What was it? The Dead Poets Society," Todd asked. "Oh, I'm not the one to tell you about it. But from all I've heard, it was amazing."

   "You! Boy there. Meet me after lunch," Mr. Nolan called out to one of the students. (Y/n) closed the annual. "I should go before I get caught by the troll, bye." She waited for Mr. Hager to look away before standing and slipping through the door.

-

   (Y/n) walked with her father across the lawn as he whistled Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture. "Mr. Keating!" No response. "Sir?" Again, no response. (Y/n) looks over to the boys behind her and shrugs. "Oh Captain, my Captain?"

   Mr. Keating turns to the young men following him with a smile. "Gentlemen." The boys laugh and Neil hands the annual to Mr. Keating. "We were just looking in your old annual." Mr. Keating looks down at the book. "No, that's not me." Keating chuckles. He reads from the page. "Stanley 'The Tool' Wilson." He crouches down as (Y/n) and the boys watch over his shoulder. A few chuckles escape Mr. Keating. "God..."

   Neil crouches down next to Keating. "What's the Dead Poets Society?" Mr. Keating turns to Mr. Perry. "I doubt the present administration would look too favorably upon that." Mr. Keating points out a few pictures to (Y/n), giggling like a child as he does. Neil looks up at (Y/n) to see her smiling, not taking his eyes off her as he asks, "Why? What was it?"