𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑

01. 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒕𝒐𝒏

"Word on the street is that Mr. Perry has a girl in his room."

The boy in the very front crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his head to the side. He had a head of chocolate brown hair that was swept neatly over his forehead coupled with a strong jaw. "So Cameron wasn't full of shit," he noted, letting his eyes fall over you shamelessly. The other two boys just stood there, blinking at you wordlessly like their friend Cameron had done. They obviously hadn't expected this rumor to be true.

"Cool your jets, Dalton," Neil huffed.

Dalton?

Oh.

Oh.

Charles Dalton who'd nearly gotten expelled from school six times in the past seven years and who, out of ten food-fights in Welton Academy history, started three of them (that anyone knows of). You assumed that he was the same Dalton who your father ranted about nearly every night at dinner for starting fires in class and daring the underclassmen to ingest harmful acids and other chemicals. Cameron was a mystery, but Dalton you knew.

He shrugged at Neil's suggested and pushed himself off of the wall, stepping deeper into the small dorm. He raised his arm to the level of his eyes and snapped his fingers once. "Meeks, door, closed."

"Yes sir," the boy you assumed was Meeks replied with a mock-salute, spinning right back around to close the door behind them. None of the students' quarters had locks, but the action still made you nervous. You weren't supposed to be in this building at all, let alone accompanied by five other boys with the door closed.

Todd lifted his head for the first time in a few minutes and flashed you a worried glance before quickly ducking his head again to pretend to busy himself over his trunk. You nearly rolled your eyes. Thanks for nothing, Todd.

Neil patted Dalton on the shoulder and bypassed him to lean his back against the radiator beneath the window sill. "Gentlemen," he spoke, voice commanding yet friendly. "I'd like to introduce (Y/N) Aufiery. Her father is Professor Aufiery."

Your vision was suddenly obscured by a hand reaching down to capture yours. Your eyes fell away from the window to see the Dalton boy shooting you a wink, bending at the waist in a deep bow as he brought your hand to his lips in a chaste kiss. "Enchanté mademoiselle. Charlie Dalton at your service."

"Charmed," you laughed nervously, the tension you previously felt slowly fading away into nothing. One of the other boys who came in with him scoffed and shook his head with a smile. If you had to guess, this was probably usual behavior on Charlie's part.

He pulled away and stood up straight to rifle through his interior coat pocket. "How long are you visiting your father for?" He asked, producing a half-crumpled carton of Newports. Smoking of any sort was prohibited at Welton, even amongst the staff. Either he hadn't been listening when Neil announced who your father was, or he really didn't care about the consequences of getting caught with a hefty amount of contraband. 

"Oh," you blinked back at the question. "I'm not visiting. I live here on campus."

"Yeah right," Charlie tested with an eyebrow raised, plucking a single cigarette from the package and folding it back into his blazer. "I think I would have noticed if someone like you was wandering around Hellton."

You struggled to bite back a laugh at his casual pun. Boys had been referring to the school as Hellton for as long as you could remember. It was just somewhat ironic that the only ones who called it that were the ones on the brink of flunking out.

Another hand reached out, belonging to the boy with deep auburn hair and wide-rimmed glasses. Charlie had called him something, Meeks, but you didn't know if that was only a cruel nickname or not.