Diana Bennet, the Welton-famous pessimist has had an interesting time at the prestigious academy she attends. But with a new English teacher and an alter in rivalry things begin to change.
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I sat up straight, my back pressed to the wooden bench I was forced to sit on.
Pitts squeezed my knee, pulling me from my trance. He smiled, his empathy prominent. I mustered the best grin I could, wiping the sleep from my eyes; the sleep I didn't get. I could feel Meeks' eyes on me from his place beside Pitts, his eyes filled with trepidation. I almost snorted aloud as I imagined what I looked like. I knew I had some serious eye-bags, and my throat was still sore from the violent 'weeping session' that occurred last night; so much for women swooning. My face was probably all blotchy and red, puffed out cheeks from the tears. However, I knew I was very clean. I had spent a long time in the shower, desperately trying to wash off the emotion and pain that seeped through my skin like ink on paper.
The loud clacking of shoes forced the entire hall to stand up from their seats. Nolan coming into view with his posse behind him. They walked swiftly, so fast they might as well of been running. I stared at the wall in front, refusing to even glance at the headmaster. The echoes from their shoes filled the silence for a couple minutes as Nolan reached his podium. He gestured for everyone to sit, the hall complying without question. I dug my nails into my palm, trying my best to stop the trembling. I could only imagine how guilty I looked.
"In this week of Welton's Honour there appeared a profane and unauthorized article," Nolan's voice boomed, his eyes surveying us all from the high-ground he adored.
I shuffled in my seat, trying to find something to distract myself.
"Rather than spend my valuable time ferreting out the guilty persons -and let me assure you I will find them- I'm asking any and all students who knows anything about this article to make themselves known here and now. Whoever the guilty persons are, this is your only chance to avoid expulsion from this school." The man continued, staring at the crowd through his eyebrows.
A couple of moments passed in silence.
Until a phone began to ring.
I watched as Nolan looked around for the source frantically, Pitts and other students joining him in the search.
I turn around, watching Charlie stand up proudly from his seat. He held the phone in his hand, picking up the receiver and holding it up to his ear. I felt the anger ripple inside me as I watched him, the smirk on his face showing no remorse.
"Welton Academy? Hello. Yes, he is. Just a moment." Charlie spoke, holding the phone towards Nolan.
"Mr Nolan, it's for you! It's God. He says we should have girls at Welton." Charlie announced, nodding his head towards the object.
The hall seems to burst into simultaneous laughter. The Dead Poet's shook their heads in disbelief instead, appalled at his decision. He had already gotten us into enough trouble, but he obviously had to push us deeper into the shit he had made for himself.
