Cliche | Dead Poets Society

FOUR.

CHAPTER FOUR.
( knox overstreet's personal circle of hell )

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Arriving late to class on her first day was never Violet Everton's intention. Her intentions were fairly clear, at least she thought they were. She was simply going to talk to the only female friends she had at Welton, Madeline Perry and Cheryl Edwards, and then it was lights out by nine o'clock, ten at the latest. But, then again, when does life ever let us pursue our rightful intents?

After Cheryl and Madeline left Neil's room, using their classic "we have lady things to deal with," excuse, mind you, they went straight to Violet, practically gushing with details concerning the boys. They talked about Henley Hall, their past all girls school, and Welton. They spoke of their summer adventures and Cheryl even told them a story filled with heroism, bravery,  and very hot, and very nude men.

After their conversations ended, it was nearly one in the morning, but Violet was so tired that she swore she could hear colors. Cheryl and Madeline nearly died with laughter after hearing this. Tired Violet was almost a carbon copy of drunk Violet and drunk Violet never ceased to provide entertainment.

They all fell asleep soon after, around two or three, getting themselves tangled up in each other on Madeline's bed. When they woke up, it was only a few hours later, but it was enough time for them all to be half an hour late for trigonometry. They stumbled through the halls quickly and noisily, none of them having enough time to consider what they looked like.

When they finally did arrive to class, now forty-five minutes late, their teacher was livid. It was a miracle he didn't beat the girls into a pulp. They took their seats in an orderly fashion, Madeline next to her brother and Cheryl next to Gerard, leaving only one seat open for Violet. That seat just happened to be located next to the one and only Knox Overstreet, who Violet hadn't had the opportunity to meet just yet.

What a cliche.

Knox kept his eyes forward the entire lesson, not even bothering to look at the gorgeous girl sitting beside him, for fear that if he looked over he would wake up and realize girls weren't allowed at Welton and never would be. If he had looked over, however, he would have noticed that gorgeous girl that he was too scared to look at, was glancing at him every five seconds, purely hoping she would catch his eye.

Needless to say, her efforts were futile. He kept his eyes forward, staring at the blackboard with far too much interest, even though he wasn't even sure what they were doing in class. Trig was his worst subject, after all.

After the fiasco of a class was over, they were told to meet with Mr. Nolan after the school day to discuss their punishment for being late to class and being improperly dressed.

"Bullshit," Madeline looked at the piece of paper in her hand, "Complete bullshit. That's what this is." She huffed, annoyed, and stalked off to Latin, Violet and Cheryl trailing after her.

The rest of the day went quickly for them all, and soon, they found themselves in their last class of the day: English. The girls were all looking forward to it, seeing as Henley had taught them to love the true classics such as Shakespeare and Whitman. The boys seemed less than excited to attend and acted as though they just wanted to leave.