landslide, neil perry

two.

celia quickly learned to be thankful for the rambunctious boys that would become her closest friends. the entire school was a maze, first of all, one that she wouldn't have been able to navigate if not for having almost the same schedule as neil perry.

"i can show you where it is." he had said over her shoulder. celia looked up from her stack of books, maps, and schedules to meet his gaze, visibly confused. "i mean, i heard you asking where the latin room is.. i have it next. mcallister, right?"

"uh.. yeah." celia nodded, a small smile spreading on her cheeks as he groaned dramatically.

"ugh, the worst! well, since you're already good at latin, you'll probably be fine." he teased. "sorry, i don't mean to buy into the pressures nolan already set up for you. where'd you go before hell-ton, anyway?"

celia cleared her throat, trying to keep up with neil's long legs and fast pace. "girls' preparatory school. london." she told him, easing through the winding hallways behind him.

"so this must be a complete change from home, then?" he asked, slowing down his strides so he wouldn't lose her.

"oh, yeah." celia laughed, looking up at the winding staircase. "it's not too bad, though. not yet, anyway."

neil laughed. "a few minutes with mcallister and you might be ready to go home."

"that eager to get rid of me, already?" she replied, a brow raised.

"no, of course not, i just mean-"

celia threw her head back in a laugh. "i know, perry, just giving you a hard time."

the two eventually made it to the latin room, and celia wasn't quite sure what to expect of the teacher (especially not after neil's unsubtle jabs at his teaching). whatever she'd been imagining was proven considerate after about two hundred 'agricolas' and 'agricolis'.

"you weren't kidding." she mumbled to neil, who had sat at the desk next to her. he chuckled, a smile on his face, but didn't respond out of fear of getting in trouble on the first day.

the rest of her morning classes seemed to be equally as boring; full of premature assignments and overused syllabuses. that was, at least, until they had english class.

charlie had met up with neil and celia in the hallway, and they found out that all of the 'study group' had english together. "if your dad's class is as boring as hager's, i might have to file a strongly worded complaint." charlie said to celia, following her into the room.

"oh, just you wait." celia assured him, knowing that a class with her father would be anything but boring. 

the room was already bustling with students talking and acting up when celia found a seat next in front of charlie, who was trying to spit paper balls at the back of some poor kid's head. the entire class calmed down quickly when her father entered the room, whistling the 1812 overture. he calmly walked the length of the classroom and then out the door without a word. "well come on." he said when no one moved.

with some hesitation, everyone grabbed their books, following him into the main entranceway. "do you know what's happening?" knox asked celia, who shrugged in response.

"'oh captain, my captain'. who knows where that comes from?" keating asked when all of the students stood in front of him.

celia, of course, knew, but didn't want to be the first to talk. from her spot standing next to him, she noticed todd looking up as if he knew the answer, but he seemed also too nervous to admit it.

"not a clue?" her father chimed when no one spoke. "it's from a poem by walt whitman about mr. abraham lincoln. now in this class you can call me mr. keating. or, if you're slightly more daring... oh captain, my captain."