Chapter Text
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Anderson,
I hope this letter finds you both in good health. I have developed some concerns about your child’s enrollment to Welton Academy. I understand your son has made it in and you have interest in him attending here, I worry about leaving him behind in this situation.
His time at Balincrest was astounding and we welcome smart, young men like him all the time, it’s just the sudden shift in the new school year. We understand this was not Mr. Anderson’s request, as he wanted to stay with his peers at Balincrest who he had years of relation to. Although you are within your right to do what you please, we ask you consider his feelings on the matter as well and listen to his thoughts.
We at Welton also understand the family history and what the previous Mr. Anderson did at Welton, and feel like it is quite big shoes to fill. We worry teachers may expect too much from him.
Sincerely,
Your Son.
Immediately after he tapped the period at the end of the letter, he tore it from the machine and threw it to the trash can next to his desk. He cursed himself lightly for the waste of ink, but not for too long when he turned and made eye contact with the letter of acceptance on his desk.
He would be in a room with another boy, which was unfortunate for him. At Balincrest he was assigned one alone and he almost never had to speak with his neighbors on either side. Apparently they were going to give him a very good room mate. Smart, like everyone, maybe a suck-up. It would surely be hell. He hated it already. The thought of changing, studying, reading, trying to maybe write again with some other loud boy right there next to him who was sporty and cruel.
His name was Neil Perry. He’d been going there for a while, apparently. Outstanding young man according to the headmaster.
At least it would look very good that he was not only a Balincrest success, but also a Welton success. Maybe, hopefully.
He stood and got ready for bed, thinking of the Welton campus he saw on the brochure and the tour he did of it over the summer, picking it up again from his dresser. It didn’t look horrible from the outside. It was actually quite pretty all over. Brick and stone through the whole thing. Each room had two desks and beds with a radiator and window. The classrooms were classic and looked well-stocked with materials fit for any educational needs.
It was more the people and social aspects he worried about. It was, in it’s own words, a development-focused program, academic and social. They had many clubs and groups you could join to bump your status. None of that sounded very appealing to Todd.
He went to lie down and still thought of the school. Welton was large, so many people there who might try to make connections with him of all people. The possible positive would be him blending in and going unnoticed among everybody. Teachers might let him fade into the background with a grade of 96 or so. Students would be more perfect than he was, so he’d stay in the middle with the class. And he wasn’t very conversational, mildly forgettable in looks and personality—hopefully. He had the perfect plan. Keep his head down, make maybe three friends to study with, and succeed in class. Then everything would be okay.
His bag was already full to the brim, his mom having helped him earlier that day to ensure he wouldn’t have to stress for a moment about anything more than improvement.
Neil never struggled packing for the year. If he required anything new he could very easily get permission to go into town and buy it over weekends, so he always packed enough, but found ways to keep his bags light. Only the necessities.
He bathed in the sunlight of his room and thought of what Todd Anderson could be like. Surely not related to the other Anderson, right? Or maybe he was.
If he was he’d probably have so many stories to tell about him. He was great. Maybe Todd was greater.
Perhaps he would be like his older brother, confident and charming. Maybe he’d be exceptionally smart and join the study group with Neil and everybody he knew.
But if he wasn't, Neil was still excited to meet him. Maybe he was loud like Charlie. Or maybe he was a genius like Meeks. Possibly a hesitant guy like Pitts. He had to be smart at least, and Neil could get along with most intelligent people, so it wouldn’t be an issue.
As he thought of all possibilities of another Anderson being his roommate he finished packing.
When he arrived, he wasn’t able to instantly pick out the face—the one of the legendary boy in the trophy case with class portraits everybody knew. If it was his brother, they probably looked very different if this was anything to go off of.
After he had said goodbye to his parents he shuffled through the cramped halls with his bags full of clothes and items he would need for school stuffed away. He greeted Meeks as he passed him by, smiling and nodding at him. He nudged open the door with his knee and clearly surprised the boy his age sitting on the northernmost side of the room who jerked his head up at the intruding noise.
“Sorry, I didn’t realize anyone was already in here. You’re mighty quiet,” Neil commented, trying not to leave a horrible first impression.
“It’s okay. People tell me that a lot. I’m Todd. Todd Anderson,” he stood up and shook Neil’s hand, the light hitting his face and allowing Neil to see him much more clearly.
He did look somewhat like his brother. They had the same nose—that was what Neil noticed instantly. But their eyebrows sat the same way with a similar thickness. His hair was an identical reddish brown. He had a slimmer face and eyes with more tiredness beneath them. And his lips were a different shape from the other Anderson, much more heart shaped with a defined bow at the top.
“Neil Perry,” he smiled, offering his hand.
“Hey, that stiff new kid’s your roomie!” someone called from outside.
Todd jumped out of his skin again, turning further red and bringing a hand up to pick at the small acne bumps on his chin and the peeling skin on his lips. He blinked slowly as the door opened and a boy thier age with short red hair barged in.
He paused for a moment and looked at Todd’s face, now struck with nerves. “Oops. Uh—study group tonight, Neil?”
Neil turned to look at him instead of Todd. “Come on man.”
“What?” he asked.
“At least say sorry!”
“It’s fine. I don’t mind, really,” Todd insisted.
“No. Come on, Cameron.”
“I’m sorry for saying you looked like a stiff. Now study group tonight?” he tried.
Neil nodded. “Sure. Now go away.”
Cameron did as told, likely going to unpack his own suitcases of clothing and supplies.
“Sorry about him. He’s kind of an ass sometimes,” Neil told him.
“Yeah, I got the impression.” He stood for a second, placing his hands back at his sides. “You didn’t have to do that. By the way. I get that a lot too.”
“You shouldn’t. You don’t look like a stiff, you look nice.”
“Nice like a polite stiff?”
Neil shook his head. “Nice like polite and likable.”
“Summer school?” another young boy asked from the door, two others standing right behind him. The one talking had a slight right part to his hair that fell on his forehead and a large grin on his face.
“Anything for my father’s idea of ‘ahead,’ Charles. How was the summer?”
“The same as any,” he sighed, being followed by the two others into Todd and Neil’s room, taking seats. “It’s weird not being your roomie this year.”
Todd sat unpacking his belongings still, keeping a mild eye on the conversation until he was introduced to Charlie Dalton, Stephen Meeks, and Knox Overstreet.
Knox seemed like the kind of person Todd could get along with. He wasn’t very loud, had a nice smile when he introduced himself. He didn’t even make a weird comment when Jeffery was mentioned as being his brother.
Meeks also seemed pretty agreeable. He took the initiative to introduce himself in a very polite manner, something Todd appreciated in comparison to Cameron and Charlie’s confident, unordinary approach.
And Charlie seemed like way too much for him. He was loud and it seemed like he was mocking Todd at every twitch. He didn’t like that very much.
As they all left he let out a breath of air and sat in his desk chair, now abandoned.
“Hey, Todd, you’re invited to study group too, if you want to come with,” Neil offered.
“Oh, sure. Thanks,” he smiled at Neil as he left the room.
Neil was nice. He had a lot of people flocking to him, which could be a problem if Todd wanted to keep his head down the whole year. He might have to be Neil’s weird friend who shut up all the time. Or he’d have to distance himself from Neil, which he didn’t really want to do.
Maybe he’d just figure it out as Neil paraded him around people until it worked out for him.
During classes, they were never far from each other. The first day of Latin was easy, all they did was decline agricola, gladius, mater, portus, and res for review of all declensions; do a small review of volo and sum in the present, perfect, imperfect, and pluperfect; then go over uses of the genetive case—which Todd had learned last year. In fact, he was also ahead in tenses, having learned future and future perfect at the tail end of the last school year at Balincrest. When their Latin teacher checked his work, he worried his lack of keeping up over the summer may have had an effect on him, so when he heard “Absolutely wonderful, Mr. Anderson. Perfect accents and all,” he smiled and thanked him.
"You have good Latin. I’m gonna force you to help my accent,” Neil commented as they walked through the halls right after.
"It is really bad, I’m sorry,” Todd smiled. “I can try to help you.”
Neil smiled back. “You and Meeks should start a tutoring business or something. Make people pay you to teach them. You give people Latin lessons, read them Pliny, Meeks does their trig homework. You guys would work perfectly.”
"I don’t know about that. I’m not exceptional here,” Todd insisted, putting his Latin textbook and two notebooks away in his shelf, pulling out the poetry books that they needed for English.
"Shush,” Neil joked, doing the same as Todd.
“Gladly,” Todd replied, standing back up.
In English, Todd’s head jerked up when Mr. Keating said “Oh Captain, My Captain,” but he said nothing. Neil noticed, but chose not to point it out when he didn’t raise his hand when he very clearly knew what Carpe Diem meant—the Latin expert.
Size the day. It seemed to resonate with Todd.
During lunch he made sure Todd was close to him, ensuring he wouldn’t miss his words if he decided to say anything at all.
While they questioned the validity of the “Dead Poets Society” that Mr. Keating was supposedly a part of, Todd remained quiet next to Neil.
"You okay, Todd?” Neil asked halfway through lunch when Todd hadn’t touched his meal beyond a bite or two.
"Yes. I’m fine. It’s just a little much in here, y’know?” he nodded.
"I really don’t, but sure,” Neil agreed.
"What’s Anderson saying?”
"Nothing, Charlie,” Neil insisted, turning to glance at Todd again. “Would you like to eat somewhere else?”
“Usually, if I were still at Balincrest I would be eating in the library with two other people in dead silence. I don’t want to get caught sneaking around if it’s not allowed, though.”
Neil nodded. “Why don’t you ask one of the teachers next class if you can eat in the library? Or one of their classrooms?”
“Oh, no way.”
“Then I’ll ask for you. You’re a little weird, y’know?”
Todd went red and looked down to his food. “People tell me that quite a lot.”
“And if you’re not allowed to eat in the library, I’ll find somewhere nice and quiet. I promise.”
“You really don’t have to do that.”
“I don’t mind it one bit.”
When Neil decided to restart the Dead Poets Society, Todd was more against the idea than for it personally. He didn’t hate the idea of meeting up with people he knew and hearing them speak their minds freely with him. It actually sounded kind of nice, sitting in a quiet spot with Neil and people he knew.
It was more the read out loud part of the deal. He couldn’t do that. Not with people he hardly knew. Maybe he could possibly read his own writings with his mom and maybe even Neil because of how nice he had been this small amount of time. But loose associates of Neil was a stretch for him.
“Are you up to come with us?” Neil asked him while he was changing and raving about the idea of this club, society, whatever.
“I don’t know, Neil. I’m not much of a read-aloud guy, if you couldn’t tell.”
“That’s okay. If you bring a watch you can sit in until your ready? Keep the time.”
Todd nodded. “Maybe. I’ll see.”
“Oh, also, Mr. Keating says if you keep quiet about it, you’re allowed to eat in his room at lunch and I’m allowed to join. As long as you don't mind him working in there while we eat.”
“Wow, really?” Todd questioned.
“He appreciated my forwardness and confidence. I’ll come there for part of lunch every day so you’re not completely alone in there.”
Todd nodded. “Thanks. I really appreciate it.”
“Do you appreciate it enough to come to the Dead Poet’s meeting? Please, Todd?” Neil begged, sitting right next to him, bare arm touching the uncovered part of Todd’s forearm.
“Fine. I promise I’ll go to at least the first one. I’ll bring my watch and everything.”
“Aw, thanks. I’ll let you know when we set a date and I’ll do all the work for you.”
Todd nodded and fell into step with Neil as they walked to their final class of the day. “Can I ask you something?”
Neil smiled, grabbing for his shirt. “Anything.”
“Why do you want me to come with you so bad? I don’t feel like I’ll add much to the atmosphere.”
“You add a lot. And if anyone says otherwise they’re not a real Dead Poet,” Neil insisted. “It’s nice having you around. You’re not as geeky as Meeks, not as overly romantic as Knox, not much like Cameron at all, and you care but you’re not Charlie’s brand of wild.”
“That’s awfully sweet,” Todd smiled, feeling heat crawl from his stomach, up his neck, and into his cheeks.
“And you’re that too,” Neil smiled.
Todd spent the rest of their next class trying to pay attention to the front, hoping to divert Neil’s attention anywhere other than directly on Todd so he could breathe for a moment, but he couldn't quite figure out the trick for Neil’s intense attention.
Usually people stopped paying any attention to Todd when the bell rung or when anything else remotely interesting happened, but even when their history teacher began his introduction for the class, Neil didn’t fully focus elsewhere. It would’ve been annoying if Neil didn’t have some strange mental link to Todd that let him know that Todd’s exact wish was for Neil not to distract him from the lesson.
If Todd’s mom were there to hear his complaints he would call their friendship the touch of magic you need, honey. She was a bit odd. Todd loved it. He missed having her perfect advice ready for him whenever he needed it. Phone calls weren’t private enough for him to tell her anything about Neil without it getting out around school.
Hey Neil, your boy was telling his mom about you! When’s the wedding?
It was the last thing he needed.
But he owed Neil already and it had only been three days at Welton; therefore, on the night of September 4th, he slipped outside in a dark cloak-like fabric while clinging to Neil’s side. He jogged without running, keeping decent pace with them all as they ran into the darkness of the forests surrounding Welton Academy.