celia keating had been named after the shakespeare character of the same name. celia from the wonderful play 'as you like it' was the daughter of the duke, and she was celia keating's least favorite character.

she never quite understood why people should love a character who was only used as shakespeare's mirror; a character whose only purpose was to reflect a more primary character's passions.

her father had fervently argued that celia was an important character who was fully devoted to her relationships, and that she is simply often overlooked by the scholars. "celia evolves," he would remind her, "from a terrified outsider, afraid of not belonging, into a powerful woman."

"sure," his daughter would respond, "or she evolves to become more confined to the actions of everyone else on stage."

celia didn't want to be like that; to become pushed into the background, disregarded, only useful for an occasional line. she had always hated the idea of being ignored, of being a background character.

after all, who would want to be celia when she could be portia or viola?

but, now, celia wondered if being in the background would be the only thing to save her from her current predicament.

she'd never been this far from her home before, and vermont wasn't necessarily her ideal vacation. but, wherever her father went, she was destined to follow.

despite hating her namesake, celia loved her father and respected his choices. there were times when she seriously wondered whether the man was her only true friend. the two would sit elbow to elbow, books in their hands, not a word between them, and yet it was still the biggest connection she'd ever had with anyone.

then, of course, there was art. celia's father had passed on his love for books and poetry, but the girl had truly found her passion when he took her to her first art museum. the beauty of color made her instantly mesmerized, and it was then and there that her father bought her a set of paints.

celia had become, at least so she was told, an outstanding artist in the years that followed. she would paint landscapes more than anything else; she loved drawing trees and water. only when she was focused on the individual patterns of her brushes did she feel truly calmed, she realized.

she certainly didn't feel calm as she looked up at the large doors of welton academy. "hellton." her father whispered from her right. "that's what i called it when i was your age." he explained with a smile.

"so then why on earth have you come back?" she asked, watching as he laughed.

"you'll love it." he assured her, but she wasn't convinced in the slightest as she followed him through the doors.

the hallways seemed imprinted into the back of his mind as celia's father rounded corners effortlessly, quickly making his way to the headmaster's office. "john!" the man in the middle of the room said as he saw him. he then caught sight of celia, and she couldn't quite interpret the look in his eyes.

"mr. nolan!" he responded, extending his hand, which the other man took. "this is my daughter, celia."

she cleared her throat awkwardly, accepting the man's handshake. "it's so nice to meet you, sir." she said, though it was most definitely a lie. nothing bored her more than the man's blank office.

"it's lovely to meet you as well, miss. keating. i trust that you received all of your books in the mail, correct?"

celia nodded, fiddling with her fingers. "yes, sir." she said when he didn't seem satisfied by her nonverbal tendencies.

he seemed pleased then, smiling up at her from behind his desk. "and i'm sure you've already been warned by your father that you're the first.. female.. to ever attend welton. this is a wonderful movement forward, we hope, and we're looking forward to your progress."

she didn't quite know what words would make him most happy, so celia just put on what she hoped was an award winning smile. "it's an honor to be here, sir."

mr. nolan evidently liked her response, smiling back at her before looking to her father and beginning to ramble about coursework that was irrelevant to her. 

celia had been shifting between looking at her finger and staring at the clock on the wall, and she was relieved when her father's elbow nudged her shoulder, breaking her from her trance. the two said small words of farewell to mr. nolan before exiting his office and moving into the hallway, where a flock of boys had begun to file in.

she was beginning to wonder what she'd gotten herself into when the amount of boys tripled. celia looked nervously to her father, who seemed the epitome of calm and cool. "is it too late now to change my mind?" she asked.

"i think so." he replied, smiling. "the light is reached not by turning back from the darkness, but by going through it."

celia nodded, her brows slightly raised. "i still think we should go back home."

soon enough, the entire room was full. celia people-watched as mothers anxiously picked at the locks of boys that tried to pull away, and as fathers pulled at the collars of boys' suits. she'd known she was going to an all boys academy, but it was somehow worse to see just how many of them there were. 

the talking of the crowd was ceased by the sound of aggressive bagpipes, which somehow made the pit in celia's stomach grow even deeper. she watched as a group of boys lit a candle, walking down the aisle with it. they passed it to mr nolan, who gave them a tight lipped smile. 

"one hundred years ago," he began, standing in front of a podium, "in 1859, 41 boys sat in this room and were asked the same question that greets you at the start of each semester. gentlemen, what are the four pillars?"

in the pews before celia, every single boy, adorning the same uniform, got to their feet. "tradition, honor, discipline, excellence." they all said in unison.

celia raised an impressed brow, leaning in to her father. "you sure you didn't sign me up for a cult?" she asked him, watching as he laughed.

the boys had all quickly sat back down when the headmaster continued. "in her first year, welton academy graduated five students. last year we graduated fifty-one. and more than seventy-five percent of those went on to the ivy league. this, this kind of accomplishment, is the result of fervent dedication to the principles taught here. this is why you parents have been sending us your sons. this is why we are the best preparatory school in the united states."

the entire crowd (but mainly the parents) began to applaud their excitement at his words.

"as you know, our beloved mr. portius of the english department retired last term. you will have the opportunity later to meet his replacement, mr. john keating, himself a graduate of this school." he gestured towards celia's father, who smiled. "and who, for the past several years, has been teaching at the highly regarded chester school in london."

once again, the crowd erupted into applause. celia then noticed that her father, even visually, was a sharp contrast to all of the teachers beside him, who were seemingly all cold and stoic. his warm smile and demeanor was a harsh juxtaposition to the permanent scowls of the other teachers. his shoes, even, were worn with use while the others sat polished and shined. 

"seated next to him is his daughter, celia keating, who will be our very first female attendant at welton. at her previous school, celia was the very top of her class, with perfect marks in each of her subjects, including latin, french, and math."

celia suddenly felt all eyes on her, and had never more wanted to become invisible. her fear of being a background character now seemed like a desire as she awkwardly smiled, her feet unwilling to move her from her chair. she almost wanted to hug mr nolan when he finally carried on with his speech, reminding the parents of just how special he thought welton was. 

soon enough, the meeting was over, and celia was left following her poorly printed copy of the map of the school to her dorm room. she had a room to herself at the end of one of the halls, and she was (with difficulty) able to shoulder her way past the teenage boys and to her room.

she was now unpacking her set of paints, rolling her brushes out of the fabric they'd been paced in, and prying her canvases out from the bottom of one of her suitcases. the room was completely barren, and looked more like a prison than a bedroom.

attempting to make the room more colorful, she set up a canvas print of van gogh's irises on the empty desk. as she'd begun to unpack the arsenal of thrifted, used, and well-loved books in her suitcases, a knocking on the door made celia look up.

in her doorway stood, to no one's surprise, another boy. "you're celia, right?" he asked, pointing a finger at her.

"i am, in fact, the only girl here; hard to get me confused with anyone else." she responded, watching as he chuckled, holding his hands up in his defense.

"you're funny." he said, staying in the doorway. "charlie, charlie dalton."

she leaned on the chair behind her. "nice to meet you." she said, not quite knowing how to continue the conversation. 

"hey, you should come meet my friends, we're doing a study group. since you, according to nolan, are some kind of genius, you should come." he offered.

celia raised a brow, following him to a room across the hall, which was filled with boys. "so, already, you're limiting me to my usefulness to you?" she joked.

charlie turned over his shoulder, a smirk on his face. "i like you, keating." he walked into the room, leaning on the doorway just as he'd done with hers. "rumor has it," he said to one of the boys inside, "you did summer school."

the boy looked up, a bright smile on his face. "yep. chemistry. my father thought i should get ahead. how was your summer, slick?"

"keen." he responded. "meeks." he directed to another boy, who had just walked into the room. "door. closed."

the redhead seemed amused, closing the door. "yes, sir."

"gentlemen, what are the four pillars?" the first boy asked, looking to the group.

"travesty. horror. decadence. excrement." they all said in unison.

celia found herself smiling at this, amused by their mutual distaste for the school. despite how comfortable all of the boys seemed with each other, and despite none of them saying anything to make her believe so, she felt as if she was intruding. she stood in the corner by herself, choosing to just observe as they all took seats. 

charlie then made himself comfortable on one of the two beds in the room, lighting up a cigarette. "okay, study group." he said. "meeks aced latin. i didn't quite flunk english. so, if you want, we've got our study group."

the same boy from before nodded. "sure. cameron asked me too. anyone mind including him?"

charlie looked up from his cigarette. "hmm, what's his specialty, boot-licking?"

"come on, he's your roommate."

"that's not my fault." charlie said. "anyway, study group. celia here is allegedly a latin genius, too, and probably better at calc than any of us." 

celia's cheeks flushed as all of the eyes on the room turned onto her, as if they'd all forgotten that she was there. truthfully, she'd forgotten that she hadn't been hallucinating or imagining all of this-- watching it through a lens. 

the red head seemed to notice celia for the first time. "oh, i'm sorry, my name is steven meeks."

"celia." she introduced, shaking his hand when he outstretched it.

"she wants to be in on the study group, too." charlie said, sitting up slightly.

she looked down at him with a raised brow. "he barged into my room and told me i was doing it." she corrected. 

the first boy laughed, nodding his head. "sounds like charlie. i'm neil." he held out his hand, and celia shook it, feeling comforted by his genuine smile. "everybody, this is todd. he's new too." he introduced his roommate, who'd been sitting on his side of the room in silence. she had to admit that she felt a bit more comfortable after knowing that she wasn't the only newcomer in the room.

"knox overstreet." one of the other boys introduced, shaking both celia and todd's hands.

"todd's brother was jeffrey anderson." neil explained, though it didn't mean anything to celia.

charlie, however, seemed impressed. "oh yeah, sure. valedictorian. national merit scholar."

meeks smiled at todd and celia. "oh well, welcome to hell-ton."

charlie nodded. "it's every bit as tough as they say, unless you're a genius like meeks."

"he flatters me." the boy explained. "that's why i help him with latin."

"and english, and trig."

a knock on the door had charlie rushing to stomp out his cigarette, and neil aimlessly attempted to wave the smoke from the air. "it's open!" he called. celia didn't miss the way that his face fell upon seeing the person behind it. "father, i thought you'd gone." neil said.

"mr. perry." the boys all said, standing up, leaving celia to awkwardly stumble to her feet after them.

"keep your seats, fellows, keep your seats." he waved them back down, and celia sat down on the edge of the bed by charlie. "neil, i've just spoken to mr. nolan. i think that you're taking too many extra curricular activities this semester, and i've decided that you should drop the school annual."

the boy shook his head. "but i'm the assistant editor this year."

"well, i'm sorry neil." the man said, though he didn't sound sorry in the slightest.

"but father, i can't. it wouldn't be fair." he argued.

"fellas, would you excuse us for a moment?" he said, practically dragging neil out of the room to have a private word with him.

"jesus." celia mumbled under her breath.

charlie nodded his agreement. "isn't he just the peachest?" he asked, flopping back onto the bed. "he's always giving neil a hard time for everything. won't let him do anything. ever."

celia looked towards the open doorway, frowning. she didn't know the boy personally, but neil's genuine smile and concern to keep todd (and herself) included in the conversation was enough to convince her that he was kind; that he didn't deserve a father that forced him out of his passions. 

"why doesn't he let you do what you want?" charlie asked when neil walked back into the room.

"yeah, neil, tell him off." knox agreed. "it couldn't get any worse."

neil chuckled. "oh, that's rich. like you guys tell your parents off, mr. future lawyer and mr. future banker."

"okay, so i don't like it any more than you do." charlie replied.

"well just don't tell me how to talk to my father. you guys are the same way."

knox raised his brows, clearly offset by how defensive neil had become. "all right, all right, jesus. so what are you going to do?"

"what i have to do." neil replied. "drop the annual."

charlie patted his back. "well i wouldn't lose much sleep over it. it's just a bunch of jerks trying to impress nolan."

neil shrugged in response. "i don't care. i don't give a damn about any of it."

that wasn't convincing, and celia could feel herself observing neil as he slumped into a chair, his face solemn. 

meeks seemed uncomfortable as he cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "well, uh, latin? eight o' clock in my room?"

"yes." neil agreed.

"and will our new favorite little latin genius be joining?" charlie joked, looking over at celia, who rolled her eyes.

"yeah, i'll be there, as long as you don't let that horrible nickname stick."

"no promises." he replied.