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❝i didn't know that i was capable of being happy right now but you showed me how i didn't know that you were right in front of me until i looked out❞
— in a good way, faye webster
—
A SECOND DEAD POETS SOCIETY meeting was being held that night, yet Florence couldn't attend due to premade plans involving her and her uncle. As much as she longed to gather in a cave with her closest friends and read poetry, she missed having weekly dinners with Uncle John like in London.
Florence gently smoothed down her sweater as she stared at herself in the mirror, patiently waiting for the clock to strike seven. She was tempted to pick up her violin and play, but not even Todd was waiting outside, admiring her performances quietly behind her wooden door.
She looked back at herself before four rapid knocks echoed throughout her room, causing her to stand up quickly. "Uncle John, is that you?" She questioned, approaching the door.
"Yes, Flo. It's me! Don't forget to call me Mr. Keating," An excited voice responded from the other side. Florence smiled peacefully as she opened the barrier separating the two. Her uncle beamed warmly at the girl as she hugged him tightly, excited for the night ahead.
"So, what are we going to do?" Florence asked, walking down the hallway alongside Mr. Keating.
He shrugged in response, a giddy smile appearing across his face. "I was thinking. . . maybe we could talk. We haven't done much of that since we moved to Welton."
"Mhm. . . I guess we haven't."
"Let's get to talking then, shall we?"
Florence grinned warmly at her uncle, receiving one of his in return. "I'd love to."
The duo walked along the corridors of Welton Academy, taking in the beautiful compass. Nights at Welton were peaceful. No chattering boys and no scowling teachers, so it was quiet. Crickets chirped quietly in the background as they conversed. The starlit sky sparkled calmly as Florence stared across the forest, wondering if she could see the cave.
"So, how are your friends?" Mr. Keating smirked, placing his hands into his blazer pockets.
A small smile came upon her face before nodding. "I think they're lovely. Better than the ones back in London," she replied, enjoying the warmth of her knitted cardigan.
"Yes! They are entertaining students. I've seen you observe our class sometimes."
Florence agreed calmly. It was true. She enjoyed watching what bold activities her uncle would d with his class some days. Her favorite was when they recited poetry while kicking soccer balls. Sometimes when her monotonous classes with Ms. Elrod were finished, she explored the campus alone. Welton looked gorgeous in the fall, she noticed. The tree leaves were a variety of red, gold, and orange; they complimented the dominantly brown buildings. It was a relaxing sight.
"Well, you're an entertaining teacher," she chimed, causing her uncle to laugh heartily.
"So, tell me about you and the Perry boy."
"What?"
Florence's heart stopped for a moment before racing. How did he know? She only recognized these odd feelings for Neil that night at the lake. She hasn't told anyone since. Florence had tried her best to be subtle, but he knew.
"You know. I've noticed you two always took subtle loving glances at each other. I know a romance is blooming when I see one," he cheered as Florence exhaled nervously.
She attempted to deny these accusations. "N-no. I don't like him! He's just a good friend. We're close, that's all."
"Ah, yet you wish for more."
"No." Florence scrunched her face before looking down awkwardly.
She heard Mr. Keating chuckle while he nudged her playfully. "Now, Flo, don't be embarrassed. Love is beautiful! The feeling is like nothing else! Feeling your stomach flip inside out and your heart racing faster than the speed of light! You should be overjoyed! You're in love!" He exclaimed excitedly.
"I'm not in love! I only. . . realized I liked him a few days ago."
"Hm. . ." Mr. Keating nodded, clasping his hands together. "You know, Neil has liked you for a while."
"Has he told you that?" Florence scoffed in disbelief. Her uncle pressed his lips into a fine line before shrugging.
". . .No. But have you seen the way he looks at you?"
Florence shook her head, still in surprise. Her uncle knew. Now, he believes Neil Perry likes her back? Impossible. He wouldn't. Of course, she would fall for someone here. Her parents should've never sent her to Welton if they knew this would happen. Besides, there are better girls for him. . . right?
"He looks at you like you're the only girl in the world—"
"Well, I am the only girl at Welton," she argued back.
"True. Well, I've noticed you two are together every day. However, he stares at you with overwhelming love and admiration. Whenever he walks with you, he beams like the happiest man in the world. He listens to you like your words drip off your tongue like honey, as he'd die without listening to your voice. He's head over heels for you. I'm surprised you haven't noticed."
"Now, that's a bit much," Florence laughed.
"See, but it isn't. Teen romance is a valuable thing, Flo. You'll only experience love like this once in a lifetime. Most don't even have the chance to. You have to take the risk and ask him out! Carpe diem!" Mr. Keating encourages, holding a fist in the air.
Florence did consider asking him on a date. Usually, boys would ask first. But with a supportive uncle like him, you take risks. Break the rules. Challenge the norms.
"Hm. . . maybe I will."
The night sky soon became pitch black, and before Florence knew it, they circled back to her dorm room. The conversation was. . . interesting at best, now that she realized what she had to do. If Neil wouldn't do it, she should then. It was a stressful decision, risking their friendship over a tiny crush. But she trusted her uncle. Every time he gave her advice, it worked. Why wouldn't it now?
Florence and Mr. Keating stopped in front of her door while she grabbed her key from her pant pocket, inserting it into the hole and twisting it slowly. She glanced at her uncle, who was smiling happily as she opened the door and went inside.
"Well, I enjoyed talking with you. Can we do it more?" Florence grinned like a toddler as he exchanged one.
"Of course. Feel free to talk with me about the Perry boy anytime you'd like," he teased, a playful smirk across his overjoyed face.
Florence scoffed jokingly before she exhaled. "Good night, Uncle John."
"Good night, Flo."
The girl closed the door before sighing, still in shock that there was a chance Neil Perry might like her. She removed her cardigan, hung it neatly on her dresser, then changed into a comfortable pair of pajamas. After, she lay on her bed, wrapping herself in her blanket, lost in her thoughts.
Who also knew about this? If Mr. Keating knew, there should be more. She was certain. Charlie? Knox? If it was anyone, it should be Knox. He was the true romantic after meeting the girl from his dinner. Maybe she should tell Todd. He was one of her closest out of the group. Then again, he was also best friends with Neil. Todd could rat her out to him.
Florence let these thoughts consume her as she fell into a deep sleep, unusually excited that someone could finally like her back.
