Dead Poets Society
Todd Anderson x OC
Effy Goodhall has been the only girl at Welton Prep for years now. She came in junior high when she was a young genius searching for her perfect school.
Just as usual, she returns to Weldon with her best friends...
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Effy sat in the grand hall next to her best friend.
"Dear god here they come," Charlie whispered to her, causing her to giggle before her mother quickly shushed her.
The bagpipes played their obnoxious tune as the boys walked down the aisle playing their idiotic instruments.
"Must they do this every year?" Effy whispered with a sigh. She looked back down at her book, The Poetic Works of Wittier. Doing her best to block out the obnoxious music, she allowed herself to be swallowed into the sweet words of her book. She read every word carefully but with ease and comfort as her feet remained propped up on the back of the pew bench in front of her.
Just as she was finally focusing on the poems, she felt a quick slap on her thigh, making her turn to her mother.
"Your headmaster is speaking, listen up young lady!" she whispered. She nodded, closing her book and putting her feet flat on the floor as she looked up at the man.
Mr. Nolan was practically decaying in the eyes of the ripe with youth that was Effy. His eyes had heavy bags of fat under them, large shadows displayed. His eyes had crows feet on their outsides even though Effy could swear against ever having seen him smile. His hair was white as snow and thin as... well, an old white man's hair. In fact, the whiteness of it all made out to make the headmaster look like what Effy has always thought of when she heard the name "Robert Frost," who by the way, will always be the kind girl's least favorite poet. A hard title to achieve from someone who was compassionate, empathetic, and both emotionally and logically genius. AKA someone who always found a way to love a poem. But not Frost. Never Frost.
She was pulled out of her thoughts when Effy heard Nolan actually begin to speak.
"100 years ago, in 1859, forty one boys sat in this room and were asked the same question that greets you at the start of every semester. Gentlemen, what are the four pillars?"
While Charlie and the boys stood, Effy rolled her eyes, remaining seated until she received a kick in the foot from her mother.
"Tradition, honor, discipline, excellence," she recited in unison with the sea of testosterone in front of her that was the Helton boys.
"In her first year, Welton Academy graduated five students."
"Her. Why her. A little bit weird to give a school a human pronoun. Interesting choice for an all boys school," Effy thought to herself. She huffed as another thought came to mind. "Maybe they really just objectify us that much."
"Last year, we graduated fifty-one and more than 75% of those went on to the Ivy League. This, this kind of accomplishment is the result of fervent dedication to the principles taught here!" Nolan boomed smugly.
