Unkind

D.P.S.

Minho runs outside the bricked architecture and onto the school's courtyard where several students are doing sports, doing their homework under the proud aged trees, and some playing by the lake's shore. The sun's orange hue baths the scenery beautifully while the withered maples cast shadows that now almost reaches the building covered in moss. It is almost supper time, Minho thought. He would indulge—be immersed in such beauty if only he isn't trying to chase down his English teacher across the yard.

"Mr. Keating, sir!" He calls out. However, Keating doesn't bother to listen. That's ridiculous. Others are staring at Minho for being so loud, there is no way he didn't hear his student yelling his name. Minho would have had Chris do it, but apparently, his roommate had other plans today. Well, it's not like he isn't capable of doing it on his own. "Sir, I'd just like to speak with you for a moment, so please—"

Keating finally looks back at him. Minho sighs. But the man had no intention of paying attention as he continues on walking away with a grin. Wha—? Is he toying with Minho? It isn't even hilarious of any sort.

"Fine, what the hell," he gives up and tucks the annual back under his arms. There's still another day—that day being three weeks from now because Minho's schedule is packed with school committee meetings.

A few steps back in his tracks, Minho feels a hand on his shoulders pulls him back in place where he was standing just seconds ago. Holding tight on the annual-afraid of damaging it—he comes face to face with Sam who displays a biggety smirk, having an arm drape over Minho's shoulder. Sky and Felix were on either side of the first duo, their hands rests inside the pockets of their slacks, and a wanton expression plastered on their faces which Minho would rather die than see.

Sky steps forward, tilting his head towards Minho, "I suppose you could use some of our help."

"Oh, captain, my captain!" Sam lets his voice be heard even by the ones who are unwilling on the side; that includes Minho who winces because he's close enough to Sam for his ears to ring at the volume. He hears Felix laugh at his reaction.

Surprisingly enough, when Minho looks at Keating's direction, their teacher was already walking towards them-his lips dressed in its usual smile. Sam leans into his ear, arms still around him, "seems to me you weren't paying enough attention in Mr. K's class, Lee."

Minho lightly shoves Sam to the side. "Buzz off, Sam."

Still, he had to admit what Sam did was something that just saved him both time and energy—because, really—who would want to keep calling someone and embarrassing yourself in the process?

"Gentlemen," Keating greets them immediately the moment he reaches his students. Minho opens up the annual and shows the first pages to him, "I was just looking through your old annual, sir."

Keating takes the annual. He laughs, "oh, my god. That's not me."

Minho chuckles lightly. It died down when he realizes the other three boys are still beside him, prying on the discussion he would've loved to be in discretion. He attempts to tell them through the eyes that this matter didn't concern them. And yet Sam, Sky, and Felix were doing anything, but pay him any mind as they were listening to Keating. Deciding there was nothing he can do without either one of them creating a fuss, Minho turns his attention to their teacher.

"Was the Dead Poets Society a club? There was no record of it anywhere in the library," He starts, "I was wondering if I could bring it back?"

"I doubt the present administration would look too favorably upon that," Keating answers, his typical smile slightly wavering at his own words.

But Minho presses on, "why? What was the reason to make this classic club a taboo in Welton?"

"Classic?"