Tired Eyes of a Poet ~ Todd Anderson

Mr. Perry.

After rehearsals, Neil and I headed to our dorms to remove the layers of clothing that we both had on due to the cooler weather. I decided to wait for him outside his room so we could eat supper together.

"The performance is tomorrow night!" Neil exclaimed from his room. I opened the door to see whom he was conversing with. Mr. Perry himself.

"Oh, goodness, I'm sorry for barging in." I said frantically. I turned to leave but Mr. Perry stopped me.

"Miss Overstreet, did you encourage my son to get into this absurdity?" Mr. Perry asked me.

"Yes, sir. Neil has dreamt of this for years and I encouraged him to do what he loves." I explained. Mr. Perry scoffed at me. "You encouraged him to do this, even if it was against MY explicit orders."

I nodded. "Neil has a passion, and that's what matters. Not becoming a doctor or going to Harvard."

Mr. Perry turned red. He looked like he was about to hurt me. I took Neil's hand and opened the door.

"Miss Overstreet! Come back here! I'm not done with you yet!" Mr. Perry screamed.

"Sorry, not sorry! We have spaghetti and meatballs to devour!" I ran with Neil's hand in mine to the dining hall.

We made it to the dining hall just in time for prayer. All students and staff recited a prayer at the beginning of each meal. I took my normal seat next to Todd Anderson.

Spaghetti was dropped on our plates and everyone was eating with their left hand.

"Why are you eating with your left hand?" I questioned.

"You missed the meeting, I forgot. Just eat with your left hand." Nuwanda asked of me. I took the fork in my non-dominant hand and attempted to wrap the spaghetti around it. It was a challenge. I didn't want to look improper, so I used a butter knife to keep the spaghetti on my fork correctly.

"Why exactly are we doing this?" I asked. Nuwanda was so focused on eating his spaghetti that he didn't hear me.

"We're breaking the norm. Most people are right-hand dominant." Neil explained. I just nodded and didn't question anymore.

Dr. Hager took a peek at our table, clearly confused and slightly annoyed. "Mr. Dalton."

"Sir?" Nuwanda looked up at the trigonometry teacher. I continued to struggle with my non-dominant hand spaghetti consumption.

"Are you gentlemen and lady normally left-handed?" Hager stood at the foot of the table. I felt my face becoming red. The whole table muttered 'No, sir'.

"Then why are you eating with your left hand?"

"We thought it'd be good to break old habits, sir." Knox looked up from his plate and up at the elder man.

"What's wrong with old habits, Mister Overstreet?" Knox thought about it for a moment. "Well, they perpetuate mechanical living, sir. It limits your mind."

The rest of the table stared at my twin brother in sorrow. Dr. Hager was sure to yell at him.

"Well, Mister Overstreet, I suggest you worry less about breaking old habits and more about forming good study habits." Dr. Hager looked at my brother with rage for being correct. Nuwanda side-eyed Dr. Hager as he was all for new things. "That goes for the rest of you. Now, eat with your correct hands."

Dr. Hager began to walk away in triumph. That was something I would not allow.

"Dr. Hager, sir. I'm ambidextrous. I can do anything with both hands. I personally think that anyone can be ambidextrous. I mean, if they put their mind to it." I said, looking at him smugly.

"Miss Overstreet, you are giving these young men the wrong idea. They shouldn't be focusing on writing with both hands. They should be focusing on school. You're being a bad influence." Dr. Hager shot me a dirty look.

"Oh, Dr. Hager. These boys wouldn't be passing your class if it weren't for me. I'm practically a trigonometry genius." The rest of the boys looked down and snickered. Dr. Hager underestimated me because of my gender, as most men did in that day.

"Miss Overstreet, you are excused. Finish your food and hurry to your room. I don't want to see any more of you tonight." Dr. Hager boomed. The boys stifled their snickers and I devoured my spaghetti and headed to my room.

---

My record played ever-so-quiet Chopin to create an environment which I could relax. After weeks of rehearsing for the play, I was rather worn out. It was nice to have some quiet time to myself.

The end of the semester was approaching and I was doing better at Welton than I was at Ridgeway. Maybe it was because I stopped partying, or maybe it was the better surroundings. But I was doing good. Everything was perfect.

I hope it stays that way.

"Nat, let me in." Neil's voice sounded from the other side of the door. I got up from my bed and opened the door for my friend.

"What is it, Neil?" I asked, looking at his glazed brown eyes. He looked down. "My father's making me quit the play."

I felt heat rise to my face. Neil's father was quite literally one of the worst people I had ever seen. He was forcing his son to go to Harvard to become a doctor when his passions were elsewhere.

Todd came into the room, confused as to why Neil was here just before light's out.

"Why don't you talk to Mr. Keating?" I suggested. Neil nodded and walked up to me. He engulfed me in a hug.

"Thank you, Natalia," Neil whispered.

"For what?"

"For being a great encouragement for what I want. Not what my father wants for me."

"It's no problem, Neil. That's what friends are for." I smiled, and Neil went on his way. Todd sat at his desk, working on history.

"What was that about?" Todd questioned.

"Neil's father is making him quit the play, and he really doesn't want to. I recommended him to speak to Keating. If anyone can help, it's the Captain himself." I explained, pulling my desk chair up to Todd's desk. "Have you finished your trig?"

"Yes, Lia. The study group is helping, and so are you. My parents are pleased. They're finally focusing on me instead of my brother." Todd wrote the last sentence of his History and set his pencil down. "That's great, Todd!"

I got into my bed and turned to the side. Todd turned the light off and it was dark. It was December of 1959, and it was cold. I had but one comforter to keep me warm.

"Todd?"

"Yes, Lia?"

"Are you cold, too?"

"Yes."

"Could you come and lay here with me?"

"Yes."

It wasn't cold anymore.

---

kinda filler chapter tbh :/

the spaghetti bit made me giggle

"Charlie is introduced as close childhood friend. He quickly integrates into his circle when Neil persists with including him. He is shown to struggle particularly with Latin, English, and Trig, with which he was helped by . Charlie serves as one of the proofers for Welton's school newspaper, as well as participating in soccer, rowing and later, The Dead Poets Society. Neil refers to him as "Mr. Future Banker" when talking about father removing him from an after-school activity, so we can assume that that was the profession chosen for him. He later opened the first McDonalds ever. After working at McDonalds for 40 years, he sadly got deep into drugs. Then he got clean, and became a drag queen. He won RuPaul's Drag Race in 2011 and is the oldest queen to ever compete. He also owns an acrylic nail salon."

-Charlie Dalton's Wiki page.