THE LAUNDRY REBEL ✧.*ೃ༄ charlie dalton

Mr. Keating

As I unpack my luggage into the tiny drawers in my room, I remember that Dean Nolan said that the room that I would be in is supposed to be small for a reason, but really? It was a tiny bit bigger than a walk-in closet. What possible reason was there for this? Even at the academy that I graduated from had bigger rooms than this. Granted, I had a roommate, but still. Footsteps stalked towards my room. Light, but even. It's the boy. I quickly shut the door, but a hand stops it.

I familiar voice drawled from the other side. "I was just making sure that my eyes weren't deceiving me. I thought for a second that I saw an old student of mine."

Confused, I cracked open the door and peered beyond it. "Sorry, I... Mr. Keating?"

He edged the door open. I didn't stop it. "Victoria. I could ask you what you're doing here." I didn't dare respond, still in shock. He continued. "In America, I mean."

Last year, I attended Chester Academy in London. Mr. Keating was my English teacher for my last 4 years. I stumble through my explanation to my old professor. "I was born in America. Brooklyn, New York, before I moved to London when I was 5 to attend Chester. It was the best school that my parents found for me. I came back to visit my mother. She told to get a job, so I applied for here. Surprisingly, I got the job."I chuckled. "Surprise!" " I didn't mention the actual reason why I was here, which was a bet that me and my nemesis in school, Caroline, made to see who would make it to America first. Obviously, I won that.

He bought it. "That explains the mixed accent I've been wondering about for the longest time." Mr. Keating smiled. It was the type of smile that lifted up any day, or any room. It probably even rose the sun up in the morning. "I always thought it was beautiful."

Heat rose to my cheeks. "Thank you." I thought about the boy. "Did someone tell you about me or did you just see me?"

The smile on his face did not waver. "A little bit of both." He admitted. "One of my students claimed he saw you speaking with Mr. Nolan, and told me about it. Obviously, he doesn't know your name, but I'm rather impressed about the way he described you." I hinted a smile at this. "Tan skin, dark brown hair with a blonde strip with green eyes. He said that there was a softness with a little rebellious streak, likewise to your hair. And that was when I knew it was you."

I chuckled, slightly offended at the comment. "A little rebellious streak," I repeated. "That's how you knew. Not even the hair. Was I that bad?"

"I said a little, not a lot. So no. But him, " He whistled. "it's a huge streak."

My chest strained in the slightest. "Hmmm...." I reflected back on the all the pranks and smart ass comments i made back at Chester. "When they said Mr. Keating, I thought of you, but I never got the chance to see you stand. I just never thought it would be you, I guess. Why are you here?" I held my finger up. "Wait... you told us you graduated from here, right?"

His everlasting smile faded in the slightest. "Yes, I did. And I'm here because I love teaching."

"Of course," I lowered my finger. "And I'm here because I love doing laundry for pubescent boys."

This time we both shared a laugh. It had been a while since I had seen him. He didn't look a day older from the first time I met him. He taught about what the world had to offer, especially to women. Of course English as well.

He broke the laugh. "Are you still singing? I remember you used to sing in the courtyard all of time."

Nostalgic, I responded, "Not that much these days, but when I'm in a certain mood, I will."

"Maybe you should sing for one of my classes."
Before I could rebuttal, he continued. "I trust these group of kids. They won't say anything."

Would I rather follow the Welton code... or do this one time.... My little rebellious streak answered for me. "I'll do it. When can I go?"

His eyes widened. "Tomorrow, at 11," he said breathlessly. He opened his arms, inviting.

I embraced him. "It's so nice to see you again," I said into his shoulder. "I'll be there."