six ✰ "what was the dead poets society?"

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the food served at welton was anything but edible

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the food served at welton was anything but edible. at first glance, the food looked amazing, but looks can be deceiving.

the girls had found themselves eating each meal at the same table as the boys. it was obvious that they all were growing fond of each other, forming their own family.

as rory was picking at her food, scarlett and parker were busy working with knox and charlie to annoy cameron.

"quit it!" cameron hissed as he pulled a stray piece of spaghetti out of his hair. "why do i bother being friends with you guys?"

parker shurgged. "i don't know, cameron. you simply could make it easier for yourself by cutting us out but you don't."

"so stop whining like a little bitch." scarlett added with a smirk. charlie high-fived scarlett, he too had a smirk on his face.

cameron rolled his eyes as neil rushed to their table. he pulled out a red book.

"i found his senior annual in the library." he handed the annual to cameron as he sat down next to knox, across from scarlett.

"listen to this, captain of the soccer team, editor of the school annual, cambridge bound, thigh man, and the dead poets society."

"thigh man. scar, you didn't tell us your father was a hell-raiser." charlie said with a smirk.

"what's the dead poets society?" asked knox. all eyes were drawn to scarlett. "do you know anything about it, scarlett?"

scarlett bit her lip. "my father swore me to secrecy."

"is there a picture in the annual?" meeks piped in.

neil shook his head. "nothing. no other mention of it."

as the group continued to the look through the annual, a shout was heard from across the room.

"that boy there, see me after lunch."

cameron quickly put the annual away and everyone returned to their meals.

after lunch, the boys went to go chase after john. parker and scarlett decided to return to their dorm while rory stuck with the boys.

with a determined look on their faces, the boys followed john, who was walking down towards the lake, whistling a tune.

"mr. keating? mr. keating?" neil repeated. "oh captain, my captain?"

with a smile on his face, john immediately turned around. "gentlemen."

"we were just looking in your old annual." neil held out the red book to john. he took it, observing his old photograph.

"oh my god. no, that's not me. stanley 'the tool' wilson-" john crouched down as he continued to look through the book. "god."

neil crouched down next to keating. "what was the dead poets society?"

"i doubt the administration would look too favorably upon that."

"why? what was it?"

"gentlemen and lady, can you keep a secret?"

the boys and rory eagerly nodded as the crouched around john.

"the dead poets..." john began. "...were dedicated to sucking the marrow out of life. that's a phrase from thoreau that we'd invoke at the beginning of each meeting. you see we'd gather at the old indian cave and take turns reading from thoreau, whitman, shelley; the biggies. even some of our own verse. and in the enchantment of the moment, we'd let poetry work its magic."

"you mean it was a bunch of guys sitting around reading poetry?" asked knox.

john shook his head. "no, mr. overstreet, it wasn't just 'guys', we weren't a greek organization. we were romantics. we didn't just read poetry, we let it drip from our tongues like honey. spirits soared, women swooned, or in ms. peters case, spoke to a man's heart. gods were created. not a bad way to spend an evening eh?" john smiled as he handed the annual back to neil. "thank you mr. perry for this trip down amnesia lane. burn that, especially my picture.

john got up and walked away, leaving neil with a inspired look on his face.

"dead poets society." he mumbled. the school bell began to ring as everyone headed back to the school. standing up, neil turns to the boys and girl with a mischievous look on his face. "i say we go tonight."

"tonight?" asked charlie.

"wait a minute." said cameron.

"where's this cave he's talking about?" pitts asked.

"it's beyond the stream. i know where it is."

"sounds boring to me." cameron said.

charlie scoffed. "don't go."

"you know how many demerits we're talking, dalton?"

"so don't come, please."

"he's got a point, charlie." rory piped in.

"look, all i'm saying is that we have to be careful, we can't get caught."

"no shit, sherlock." charlie rolled his eyes.

at the doors, hager yelled, "you boys there, hurry up!"

neil turns around and faces his friends.

"all right, who's in?"

"come on neil, hager's right-"

"forget hager, cameron. who's in?"

"i'm in." said charlie with a huge grin on his face.

"i am too, and i am sure scarlett and parker are in too." rory said.

"i don't know, neil." pitts said hesitantly.

"pittsie, come on."

"his grades are hurting, charlie." meeks defended.

"you can help him meeks."

"what is this, a midnight study group?"

"forget it pitts, you're coming. meeks, are your grades hurting too?" asked neil.

"i'll try anything once."

charlie snorted. "except sex."

meeks shoved charlie as he let out a weak "ha ha".

four of the boys and rory run into the building.

"what about you knox?" charlie asked.

"i don't know, charlie."

charlie gripped knox's shoulders as he forced knox to look at him. "come on, knox. it'll help you get chris.

"yeah? how?"

charlie smiled. "women swoon." he laughs and runs inside, knox chasing after him.

"but why do they swoon? charlie, tell me why they swoon! charlie!"

𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲 ✰  𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐩𝐨𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲Where stories live. Discover now