Cigarette, daydream and poetry ( A DPS fanfiction ) Charlie x OC

First class

Margaret woke up at 6:20 in the morning and lay sprawled in her bed for at least 10 minutes until she dared to get out of her sheets to get ready. She looked at herself in the mirror and sighed, having no idea how she should present herself. She couldn't wear too much makeup, as that would get her in trouble with the administration, but she wouldn't dare go out with a bare face either. She needed to find a balance. As for her uniform, she hated it. It was the same as the boys' except that instead of pants, she had to wear tights and a long skirt.

She went down to have breakfast, which she had to share with the teachers, much to her annoyance. But she had no choice but to accept her fate and listen to these adults talk about boring topics throughout the meal. In fact, none of them spoke to her until she heard, "Would you like the last apple, Miss Perry?"

She turned around and saw the new literature teacher holding out an apple to her. She took it and gave him a smile, which he returned with what she thought was sincerity.

In the hallways, the commotion was at its peak. The students were joking and trying to ease the tension caused by the first day back, and the teachers were struggling to manage them. Margaret felt slightly lost. She didn't know where she was supposed to go and had lost the teacher who was supposed to accompany her, which allowed her to classify him as incompetent. She was getting jostled and had trouble spotting the room numbers. Suddenly, a hand grabbed her arm, and she turned her head to see Charlie's face.

"What the hell are you doing?" she snapped.

"I'm rescuing you!" he joked.

"I could have done without it!" sighed Margaret.

They arrived at the classroom, and without any thanks, the young girl went to sit down. She watched the people coming in and was reassured to see that her brother and his friends were in her class. From chemistry to Latin to the interminable math class, the hours at this school seemed to drag on. Margaret watched the clock hands during each class, feeling like time was passing in slow motion. The subjects themselves were not difficult for her-after all, it was her grades that got her here-but the workload the teachers were assigning was starting to scare her.

In the last hour, everyone was tired but still smiling. The French class was the last stretch to finish the day, aside from the workload for the next day, but that was better ignored for now. Margaret sat behind her brother, who turned around and smiled at her.

"So, what do you think of Hellton so far?" he asked.

"I think... it well deserves its nickname," she replied.

Neil laughed but didn't have time to add anything as the teacher walked into the room. The students watched him in silence as he paced the room, whistling a lively tune. All eyes followed him until he left the room, gesturing for them to follow. Everyone looked at each other and eventually followed the teacher, books in hand.

They arrived in the trophy room. Margaret wanted to move closer to hear the teacher better, but Charlie pulled her by the sleeve and asked her to stay at the back of the room with him. She sighed but agreed, leaning against the wall to be more comfortable.

"O Captain, my Captain! Where is that from? Who knows?" the teacher asked.

Everyone looked at each other, quite perplexed. Margaret timidly raised her hand to answer and was the only one to do so.

"Yes, Miss Perry?"

"Um... it's from a poem by Whitman about Abraham Lincoln... I think."

"That's absolutely correct."

She smiled proudly and turned her head toward her brother, who smiled back and discreetly gave her a thumbs-up.

"I invite you to call me Mr. Keating or, if you're more daring, 'O Captain, my Captain.'"

This made many of them laugh, easing the usual tension of a class. Keating continued to talk, explaining that he was once a student at "Hellton" and giving some details about the intellectual he simply was not at the time. Then he asked Pitt to read a poem.

"'Oh, maiden, do not lose hope'?" Pitt asked, slightly embarrassed.

Mr. Keating confirmed that it was indeed that poem, which made them smile again. Margaret and Charlie exchanged amused looks and listened to Pitt.

"'Oh, maiden, do not lose hope, gather now the flowers of life, for death is so hasty, that the frail bud that opens today will soon have perished.'"

"Thank you, Mr. Pitt," said Keating. "'Gather now the flowers of life'-in Latin, it's expressed as 'Carpe Diem.' Who can translate these words?"

Meeks raised his hand.

"Yes?"

"Uh... seize the day," Meeks answered timidly.

"Well done, Mr...."

"Meeks."

"Meeks! A name worthy of household robotics."

Mr. Keating let a few more smiles spread and then asked, "Why does the poet write this?"

"Because he's in a hurry?" Charlie answered humorously.

"No! Wrong," declared Mr. Keating.

Margaret laughed and elbowed her classmate, who just laughed with her. Keating gave the correct answer and asked everyone to come closer to look at the photos of former students, then whispered this golden phrase in their ears: "Carpe Diem."

Everyone left stunned, pleasantly surprised or frightened by this class. This teacher was different from the others, but no one could say if it was in a good or bad way.

After that, Margaret had free time because she wasn't allowed to participate in sports with the other boys. She waited for them by the window of their locker room, a book in hand. She was surprised at how easily she avoided the numerous teachers who were supposed to supervise her. The sports session had been over for at least 20 minutes, and the young girl was grumbling to herself while waiting for her friends when Neil opened the window a bit and leaned out to talk:

"Sorry to keep you waiting," apologized Neil.

"My word, you guys are worse than girls!"

"If you say so," her brother laughed.

At that moment, Meeks stuck his head out the window to talk to Margaret.

"Are you coming to the study session tonight?" he asked.

"Of course. Will everyone be there?"

It was Charlie's turn to stick his head out the window. He wasn't wearing his t-shirt yet and only had a towel draped over his shoulders, which made Margaret look away.

"No, Knox is out at the Danburris' place," replied Charlie.

"Dalton, would a t-shirt be too much to ask for?" she sighed.

"You're the one coming to admire our magnificent god-like bodies!"

"I've spent enough summers with you to know there's nothing to see."

Whistles and laughter rose behind Charlie, who rolled his eyes and left, letting Neil have his moment with his sister, who was quite proud of how well she had held her ground.