𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 | 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐏𝐨𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐒𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲

༺𝐕𝐈༻

Me and Todd walked down to the dining hall after our day of classes. He seemed quieter than usual, lost in thought.

"You liked Keating's lesson today?" I asked him.

He snapped out of his trace, "Uh— yeah, yeah. It was different. But in a good way, you know?"

"You looked like you were really into it. I think that lesson was something you needed to hear."

He looked a little confused, "What do you mean by that?"

"You looked like you needed to hear it yourself. You were entranced," I shrug,  "even I felt like I needed to hear it."

Todd still looked like he was processing my words, but we arrived at the table with the boys. The only one missing was Neil.

"There they are!" Meeks said as we sat down. Me and Todd both smiled at everyone.

"Where's Neil?" Todd asked quietly.

"He went to the library or something, I think he's snooping for information on Keating." Meeks answered.

We said grace before we ate and then Neil suddenly came running up to our table, squishing in between me and Todd.

"I found his senior annual in the library," He said, showing us the book, "Listen to this: Captain of the soccer team, editor of the school annual , Cambridge bound, 'thigh man', and the Dead Poets Society."

"Thigh man?" I laugh.

"Sounds like Mr. K was a hell-raiser!" Charlie said beside me, earning an eye roll.

"What's the Dead Poet's Society?" Knox asked.

"Nothing. No other mention of it." Neil stated.

"Well I say we figure it out." I say.

"I was thinking the same thing." Neil smiled.

"Great minds think alike!"

༺༻

Later in the day we went out to the courtyard to find Keating. It was easy enough to spot him as he was whistling the same tune he played on the first day.

"Mr. Keating, Mr. Keating!" The boys called out.

No response.

"O Captain, my Captain?" Neil asked.

He turned right around, "Gentlemen! Amber!"

We laugh at his sudden enthusiasm, "We were just looking in your old annual." Neil says, handing Keating the yearbook.

"Oh my god," Keating begins to laugh, "oh no, that's not me." He begins flipping through the pages.

"What's the Dead Poets Society?" Neil finally asked.

Keating looked up, slightly taken aback by the question, "I doubt the present administration would look too favorably upon that."

"Why? What was it?"

"Can you all keep a secret?" Keating asked and we all nodded. "The dead poets were dedicated to sucking the marrow out of life. Thats a phrase from Thoreau we would invoke at the beginning of every meeting. See we would 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 let poetry work its magic."

I was in awe of the idea of this club. It almost sounded like an escape from reality.

" You mean it was a bunch of guys sitting around reading poetry?" Knox asked, I rolled my eyes at that.