poeta nascitur, non fit ~ steven meeks x fem!reader

girls and other unsolvable mysteries~

"It'll be fine, guys." - Knox

She bit her lip thoughtfully before replying, Nuwanda being halfway through a speech about integrity and what seemed like a reference to the Three Musketeers. "I wouldn't worry, Neil," her eyes showing genuine care for the boys around her - save for one - as she continued, "I'm manifesting that they won't find out, and it works every time." Cameron made a face.

"Where's the science behind that?" he inquired, always seeking professional opinions. (y/n) rolled her eyes and scoffed, as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing. 

"Oh, please," she drawled while brushing illusionary crumbs of her shoulder "I am the science. How else do you think I did better than you on our Chemistry midterm?" His mouth fell open in defeat. 

"You did not." The more furious redhead argued, refusing to believe in the girl's esoteric connections. She tilted her head back and laughed quietly, then her face returned to its teasing charm. 

"Whatever helps you sleep at night." This time, it was her beloved Meeks who laughed, riotously.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Not long after the events of study hall that morning, was the entire Academy sent down to the main chapel, where -months before - they had been indicted into Welton society for that school year. Mr. Nolan, accompanied by his usual advisors who looked as if they were a kingdom facing battle(as per usual), stormed into the wide space. Like clockwork, every young man - and woman - stood up, military style in the room that smelled like blown-out candles. 

He took his place at the front of the hall, standing at a podium with a copy of this week's issue of the Welton Honour in his wrinkly hand. "Sit." he ordered them gruffly, to which they complied. (y/n) reached over and grabbed Steven's hand, trying to find comfort. 

"This week in our newspaper, there appeared a profane and unsanctioned article "Rather than spend my valuable time ferreting out guilty persons - which I most certainly will do. Instead, any and all persons who are in possession of knowledge regarding this article, step forward now and be rewarded. And to the guilty person/s, know that I will find you and this is your one time to come forward - and avoid expulsion." His words were rough and jagged, each syllable cutting into (y/n) like thorns on a rose, prickly and uncomfortable. If they found out about the Dead Poets Society, (y/n) was dead certain they would ship her back to London. 

A nervous, split-second glance was shared between the secret society members, interrupted by a rather odd timed phone call. It should not have surprised the girl in the plaid skirt that of course, Charlie "Nuwanda" bloody Dalton would be the one to pick it up. 

The world seemed to stop spinning, as if it were trying to see what would be next. 

"Welton Academy, hello?" The dark-haired boy murmured into the phone, looking at Nolan, "Yes he is, just a moment." He stood, extending the phone in his hands towards the decrepit old man. 

The tension in the room was thick enough to be cut by a sword, which the next spoken words slashed in half, like glass shattering. 

"Mr. Nolan, it's for you!" he exclaimed with an odd glint in his eyes. "It's God, he says we should have more girls at Welton!" Laughter followed, but (y/n)'s heart twisted in her chest. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The group had gathered outside of the dorm rooms, awaiting Charlie's return from his ill-fated visit to Mr. Nolan's private offices. Anxious chatter was, well, awkward as one might imagine. The air felt heavier, somehow, knowing their friend was being punished - even if he might've deserved it. 

The man of the hour came up the staircase, silent as a mouse. Everyone held their breaths. As he oh so gingerly made his way towards his door. The reek of teenage anger rippled through them all, at the system and this school and, for (y/n), the world. And yet, they all cleared a path for him, the girl nuzzling her head in Meeks' shoulder. 

"You kicked out?" Neil asked 

"No." came the short reply, of an embarrassed young man who simply wanted to lay down and cry, judging by the lack of usual charismatic energy he failed to bring with him.

"Well, then what happened?" The brown-eyed actor demanded, wanting answers. 

Charlie stood in the doorway, rigid, for a few moments before replying. "I'm to turn everyone in, apologize to the school, and all will be forgiven." (y/n) was sure they all could tell how he informed with a heavy heart, raw scrapes given to him by Nolan reminding him of how deeply he cared for his buddies. 

"So what are you gonna do? Charlie?" Neil, yet again, pressed his unstable friend for answers, when he really needed to be left alone to his turmoil. 

"Damn it Neil," the boy sighed, choking back tears that stained his cheeks, "the name's Nuwanda." And with that, he closed the door. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

a/n: sorry guys senior year is killing me but the lovely comments and votes are inspiring me to write more! very very excited about these next few chapters!! Please note, I don't think I'll have many splintered stanzas for a bit, since the actual plot is going to need more chapters! however, expect plenty of drama, my dear fellow nerds. all my loving energy to you!!! <333