song of the chapter: hey kids by molina, but s l o w e d
(y/n)'s pov...
After (y/n)'s poem about finding comfort in fictional worlds, Neil Perry astounded the room by reciting an original piece using both Iambic Pentameter like a Shakespeare reincarnate and full rhyming scheme; all of which pertained to the gentle beauty of Autumn and how it gave way to Winter darkness. When he finished, taking off his round reading glasses, Charlie wolf-whistled as Neil turned to salute Uncle Walt, who kept watch over the young poets.
His stunning piece gave way to Meeks shyer one, but beautiful nonetheless. The freckled boy exhaled shakily and began to read, in the voice made (y/n)'s heart flutter;
"The scent of rosewater on the air,
Breath catches in my throat as
I see the sunlight glint off
Your hair, a suddenly my
World becomes so much more bright,
Since with your existence, comes the end to
my hearts plight."
(y/n) didn't clap loudly for Meeks as she did for Neil, instead she stared down at her oak desk and let her hair fall to hide her ridiculous smile.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
In the course of the girl's friendship with Mr. John Keating, she had grown mostly accustomed to seeing him bring out the best in his young students, but only after helping to tear them bare to really display what truly laid beneath their cover, as pages lie within a book's bindings. Never before, however, had it irked her so much as seeing him use this same method with Todd.
"Mr. Anderson," he addresses her blonde friend "believes that everything inside of him is worthless and embarrassing. Well, I think you're wrong. I think you have something inside of you that is worth a great deal" When (y/n) had found out that during their seeming hours of writing that she and Todd did together previously had resulted in not a single stanza to submit for this assignment, a fact that made (y/n)'s heart churn with sadness for her friend and just a hint of anguish to empathize.
Keating instructed Todd to waltz up onto the platform at the head of the class to demonstrate his barbaric yawp, which he had written about on the blackboard. (y/n) turned around to gauge Neil's reaction to this, and seen his face partially contorted in outrage - clearly he had become very protective over Todd in the brief month or so they had been introduced.
After a few minutes of haggling and very discontent written plainly across his kind face, Todd stood and walked to his place almost directly in front of (y/n). To her agony, some of the boys had the audacity to laugh, Meeks included, although something told her that he wasn't laughing out of actual humor, but instead the feeling of conformity. She smiled up at Todd encouraging him, something that he did not return as he usually did.
"A yawp?" he shook his arms in distress.
"No," Keating dismissed his words "not just a 'yawp'. A barbaric yawp." With each 'yawp', Keating's voice changed to impersonate his point.
"Yeah, yeah, okay," The boy under scrutiny sighs "yawp."
"No! Louder!" Keating encourages, pushing Todd for multiple 'yawps' until finally he yelled, getting upset for a fleeting moment before finding himself again. (y/n) smirked, because she knew that with each yawp, Todd felt a bit more confident in himself, an idea that pleased her very much. When Todd went to sit back down in his seat, however, Keating stopped him, pointing to the picture of the man the class so fondly called 'Uncle' - Walt Whitman.
"What does he remind you of? Don't think, answer. Go on." The teacher began walking in circles around Todd, spinning him along to distract his thought process to get unfiltered words.
"A madman. A crazy madman. A sweaty-toothed madman!" he nearly shouted at Keating's pressing.
"Good God, boy! There's a poet in you, after all." the older, brown-haired gentleman exclaimed with pride "There, close your eyes. Close them. Now describe what you see." Todd did as he was told, although Keating kept his hands over his gorgeous-colored eyes, and (y/n) fought to cover her own.
"A sweaty-tooth madman with a stare that pounds into my brain. His hands reach out to choke me. And all the time he's mumbling," Todd had stopped spinning, and Keating knelt down to watch his boy in action. (y/n)'s own jaw went slack in admiration, at his bravery to stand in front of these immature half-wits, not excluding most of the Dead Poets Society. "Mumbling truth. Truth, like a blanket that always leaves your feet cold." the boys erupt in riotous laughter, and (y/n) is sure to send a deathly glare to Hopkins and she's almost positive he shrinks back in his seat. "You can pull it, stretch it, it'll never be enough. You kick at it, beat at it, but it'll never be enough to cover any of us. From the moment we enter crying, to the movement we leave dying, it'll just cover your face as you wail and cry and scream." He finished, voice catching on the last few syllables before he opened his eyes to regain his balance.
In that moment following her friend's poem, (y/n) did feel like wailing and crying and screaming. What Todd had said to the classroom, whether he felt it or not, was some of the most raw and beautiful prose they had ever had the privilege in listening to. The entire classroom had fallen deathly silent in the wake of his outburst. The girl turned to look back at Neil, who was gazing on in something (y/n) had never seen in his face before, an emotion that stirred so much happiness within (y/n)'s heart - Neil's eyes showed him gazing at- quite possibly - the love of his life, reveling in his poetry and the audience's reactions.
Swiftly, she turned to face Todd again, and slowly began snapping her fingers; the poet's applause. Keating, without even flinching, joined in on the soon-to-be riotous applause that left Todd in blushes. The room became quickly filled, like the dining room on the Titanic, with the sounds of snaps and the occasional 'encore!', most of which were from Neil.
"Don't you forget this." Keating warned, gently grasping the boy's face in a happy gesture, pretending not to notice Todd grin under Neil's awestruck gaze.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
After English, (y/n) stole Neil from Todd's side, where he had been nearly attached to since he recited his poem.
"Neil," she smiled coyly, to which he turned red - surprisingly - at her knowing smile. "I might not have much experience with love myself, but I've read enough books to understand that you truly do care for him, don't you?" Neil shook his head in disbelief, grinning like a complete idiot.
"And you're -" he coughed once awkwardly, gesturing to Todd, who was walking with the other Dead Poets, "okay with, um, me and him? You know, like, toge-" his stammers were not-so rudely interrupted by (y/n) pulling him into a crushing hug, his head resting on hers.
"Of course. Don't be a twat, Neil, darling" she giggled, feeling him relax and let out a breath "I adore you both - you're probably my best friends. Just, don't tell Charlie I called you that. He'd have my head." They laughed, pulling away but not too far way from one another.
"Thanks." he said simply, always better with words than most.
"Ah, don't mention it. But, at your wedding I better be your maid of honor otherwise I will set your venue on fire." she smiled sweetly, bumping his shoulder. He rested his elbow on her shoulder, the pair of them looking more comfortable in the friendship than ever before.
"I've never met anyone really like you, (y/n)." He admitted quietly, smiling fondly at the girl with his impish grin which she had grown to love.
"Ditto, Neil Perry."
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
That evening, Keating assigned them exceptionally chaotic homework - football. Or, rather, American soccer as (y/n) had been instructed by Cameron to say instead. The English class was a blur of red and white and yellow blotches of color, shouting and bumping into on another on the field. From the sidelines, their bright-eyed teacher watched them and laughed with them, clearly quite joyous at seeing his darling girl playing so inclusively with the young gentlemen.
On one team, was the entirety of the Dead Poets Society, ready to take on the world. On the other, were the remaining boys in English, including Stick, Spaz, and that idiot Hopkins. In the early evening sunlight, casting at the world on an angle and creating the angelic atmosphere that the girl loved so dearly.
(y/n), like the others, wore a red jumper with a large white 'W' monogrammed in the chest, and black running shorts. Interestingly enough, her waist size matched those of the boys, although she would argue that she wore them better. Her face with it's lovely cheekbones and smile lines was alight with pleasure, made red with the running. She bumped into Knox and knocked the two of them over, laughing without borders.
"Sorry, Knoxie dearest!" she yelled as she jumped back to her feet and pounding towards her team's goalkeeper - which was Charlie. His eyes widened as he saw a bunch of boys stampeding overtop one another towards the net.
"Don't break my beautiful face!" he pleads before catching the ball with his chest, and then throws it back to Pitts, who was waiting to try and get it into the other net. But, (y/n) was quicker, snagging the ball from a complete stranger and passing it to Todd, who shot it into the net. They all erupted in cheers; Neil even going so far as to jump into Todd, the couple falling to the ground and getting other boys piled on top, (y/n) nearly squishing poor Meeks.
When elbows caught jaws and they decided to stand up but continue celebrating, the class to Mr. Keating, picking him up on his shoulders and parading him around. The older man was barking with laughter and surprise at feeling so completely loved by these young boys, who were free from Welton's old-fashioned norms.
"Viva Keating!" (y/n) screams as they all throw their fists victoriously into the air, jogging circles around the soccer field holding him up like royalty. Which in their eyes, he certainly was.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
a/n: stop i can't tell u how much i love writing (y/n) and meeks' interactions they literally make my heart melt. hope ur enjoying the summer weather unless ur not in the northern hemisphere LOL.
also, i did write both Meeks' poem and (y/n)'s! They arent my best, but i think they're pretty darn cute.