Marie's dad sat down on one of the chairs, and Marie sat next to him. She clasped her hands together, placed them in her lap, and stared intently at them.

Mr. Machiavelli sat down behind his desk and gave a content sigh. "Marvelous, isn't it? This chip truly helped us become more united. It is a spectacular creation President Arnold has given us." Mr. Machiavelli nodded reverently at the floor length painting of President Arnold hanging in his office.

Marie tried to smile, but it came out as a cringe.

"I am thrilled, simply thrilled, to add your name among the student body here at Presley High, Marie. We are ecstatic to try out this experiment! The students will have no idea you are part of a social experiment. The teachers have been informed of this program but will have no idea who is participating in it. They will treat you like any other students."

"A double-blind experiment," Marie said without thinking.

The comment stopped Mr. Machiavelli from saying what he wanted to say next. Instead, he glanced at her curiously. "Come again?"

The blood flow increased through Marie's face, and her cheeks felt warm. "Double blind. Where information is kept from both participants to reduce biases."

Mr. Machiavelli nodded. "Why, yes indeed! And who knows! You could graduate from here with top honors and enter any college you want! You could be the best musician this world has ever seen! You could make beautiful artwork! We truly believe you are capable of anything!"

"Sounds wonderful." Marie wasn't sure what else to say.

"Do you have any questions?" Mr. Machiavelli asked.

Marie nodded. "Do you have any science or math classes?"

There was the smallest tremor on Mr. Machiavelli's smile.

"We do have a couple." Mr. Machiavelli began searching through his papers. "For incoming freshmen, we have great algebra classes."

Marie rubbed her arm. "I took algebra 1 last year. Can I possibly go to a higher one?"

"Later in the tour we can talk with Mr. Freud and he can set up your freshman class schedule for the year. We find it's easier to help the Freshmen, then they'll see how it's done and register on their own for Sophomore year."

Marie nodded. "And what about science?"

"Mr. Galileo takes great care of his science classes. We've had to downsize a bit in the science department, so he's in charge of all the science classes there. And the math classes, come to think of it. But never fear. We will get you a schedule you're excited about. Any other questions?"

Marie couldn't keep eye contact as she shook her head. Her dad cleared his throat. "I have one."

"Why yes! Vlad, right?"

Her father nodded before he straightened in his chair. "Is there any way Marie can qualify for a scholarship? This high school is a bit out of our price range."

The state of her second-hand clothes and worn out shoes were never more apparent to Marie then at that moment. Marie folded her arms and ducked her head.

Mr. Machiavelli's eyebrows shot up. "Oh! I thought we sent a letter with the initial welcome packet. We must have misplaced it. There were so many papers to send. Terribly sorry. Since Marie was selected to come as an experiment, we will fund her tuition to Presley High."

The blood vessels in her cheeks dilated even more when her dad give an audible sigh of relief. The two men laughed off the stress as Marie studied the diamond design in the carpet.

"There will still be costs." Mr. Machiavelli reached behind his desk and took a pamphlet. "She will need to purchase her uniform and shoes. Here's locations of second-hand stores for school uniforms. Many of our graduates donate to these stores for those who may not be able to pay full price for the uniforms."

Her dad nodded. "A second-hand store sounds like a great option." Marie pulled her shoes under the chair and tried to smile.

"Because we downsized on science, your daughter could get her own instrument for band or orchestra with no cost to you."

"Oh great!"

Every student accepted to Presley High had most likely started playing at the age of three. She didn't know anything about instruments. She doubted there were beginning orchestra or band classes this late into her education.

"We give the art supplies as well. Truly it is only her uniform she'd need."

"Are there any extra costs with math and science?" Marie asked.

"Coming back to those, huh?" Mr. Machiavelli's smile faltered when Marie looked genuinely curious. "It depends on the class, but I do know with most science classes you'll have to provide some things, like certain kits or whatever else they use for those. It wouldn't be too expensive, though. Especially since we've banned dissection. Dissection is downright barbaric, wouldn't you say?"

Neither Marie nor her dad made any indication of agreeing with him.

"Mr. Freud would know more about it. It will depend on the class you sign up for."

"Thank you," Marie said to the carpet. Her dad tapped her chair with his foot and Marie met Mr. Machiavelli's gaze. "Thank you."

He nodded. "One last thing. Has Marie's chip been updated?"

Her dad frowned. "Um, not recently."

Mr. Machiavelli turned his full attention to Marie. "Well, if she's going to stay on top of what's required here at Presley High, we require you get it updated before the first day of school."

"Thank you. We will set up an appointment."

The chip was such a necessary evil for her. Getting it updated required a quick surgery. The S.E.A. recommended updates every few years, and of course it cost money. Marie never reminded her parents, and her parents never seemed to bring it up. It resulted in her having the same chip since elementary school.

After the initial meeting with the principal, they went on a more detailed tour of the school. The inside was as artistic as the outside. The beautiful spiral staircase both awed and intimidated her. Mr. Machiavelli led her to the theater room. The stage practically took up the entire second floor of the school. No expense was spared on the lights and sound system. Mr. Machiavelli had her stand in the center of the stage and turned on all the lights, momentarily blinding her.

"Go ahead and sing a song! Listen to the acoustics! You almost don't need a mic!"

Marie stumbled for an answer. "Oh, it's alright. I believe you."

Her dad and Mr. Machiavelli discussed more about expenses as Marie and Mr. Freud conversed about her upcoming freshman schedule. The math class she wanted to take conflicted with her mandatory freshman writing class. In the end she settled with taking Algebra again, even though Mr. Freud strongly suggested she take another art class. Since school was on the A/B block system, she wanted her math class one day and her science class the other day to have fun classes to look forward to.

***

They went shopping for her school uniform the next day. Marie didn't like clothes shopping. Rather, she didn't like shopping at a second-hand store. Her short stature made it difficult to find anything cute. She often found what she needed in an extra-large children's size, but second-hand high school uniforms never came in children's sizes.

Marie tried on blouses. The ones that fit well enough had bad pit stains. They could be covered up with a Presley High blazer as long as she never took it off. The blazer was big on her, which she came to expect. She got the one with the small hole in the arm, figuring she could sew it up. The other one made her look like she was drowning in a sea of blue fabric.

The skirts were difficult. The packet suggested knee length, but the shortest one hit her mid-calf. She had to assume longer was better than shorter. The lady at the store offered to make adjustments for a fee, but Marie politely declined so her dad wouldn't have to. Her mother imparted a few sewing skills to Marie before she died.

She dreaded the shoes. She knew even second hand these shoes would not be cheap. The woman at the store said they were incredibly lucky. There was a small pair brought in yesterday. Marie tried them on and they fit like a glove.

"This latest model transforms into six different shoes! Try them out!" the woman said.

Marie tapped her right shoe against the left. The shoes, starting off as character shoes, shifted and taps popped out effortlessly onto the bottom. She tapped them again. The taps sunk back into the shoe and the heel extended to a salsa dancing shoe. She teetered precariously on the added height. She tapped them again and her feet were swallowed into a jazz shoe. Once more transformation turned them into swing dancing shoes. The final transformation was the makeshift ballet shoe, before they returned to the character shoes. The different shoes weren't as good as getting the six individual shoes but having them all in one was a huge breakthrough for education.

"I'm glad we found these. Thank you," Marie said.

The price tag said they were still a hundred and fifty bucks, but it was better than paying full price.

She tried on the whole uniform and stepped onto the platform in front of three different mirrors. Despite finding the smallest sizes possible for all the articles of clothing, she still looked like a young girl playing dress up in an older sister's wardrobe.

"You look beautiful, Marie," her dad said.

Marie played with the end of a frizzy lock of hair. "Thanks, dad."

She took a few steps and her shoes randomly changed to tap shoes. She slipped on the hardwood floor, threw her arms out to catch her balance, and caught her dad's arm.

"You okay?" her dad asked.

Marie smothered her spike of fear. It wasn't enough to activate the chip, but she wouldn't chance it. "Yeah, fine. It's fine."

"Hmm," the woman said. "I'm sure I could get those shoes fixed for a small fee."

"No," Marie said. "It's okay."

Her dad frowned. "Marie, they might need-"

"No, dad. Really. I'll get changed back into my clothes. We got everything we need."

Her dad's frown deepened. "If that's what you want."

Marie nodded. "Yes. It is."

***

A week later, they went to the doctor's office a few blocks from the center of town. Marie waited in the surgery room, wearing her surgery gown, tapping her fingers against the table at an accelerated rate. Her dad sat in one of the chairs, going through some papers.

An S.E.A. agent walked in, looking through a clip board. "Marie Curie?"

Her nerves were in the process of strangling her vocal cords, so Marie nodded instead. She didn't like surgeries. It was a good thing the chip was already deactivated when they came in.

"I'm glad we're updating your chip. Looks like it's been almost nine years!"

Marie nodded again. The S.E.A. agent handed the clipboard to her dad.

"If you could double check everything and sign, we'll get this surgery done in no time," the agent said.

Her dad glanced through the papers as Marie studied the agent. He was dressed in a business suit and was clacking away on a keyboard while her dad signed the papers.

"With this new updated chip, you'll find it working smoother. The lyrics won't lag, and the dance steps will be easier to identify," the agent said.

A man in a white coat came in. Marie waited for him to meet her gaze so she could greet him with a smile, but he never did. Instead, he set his tray of tools on the small table next to Marie. He had a prominent frown on his face.

"Ah yes! Here's the medical professional who will change out your old chip for the new one. I'll stay here to make sure things go well. Your dad will have to wait outside. It won't take long."

Her dad stood up. "See you in a bit, Marie."

The nerves continued to squeeze her vocal cords, but they did let her smile to her dad in a farewell.

"This will be easiest if you're on your stomach," the agent said.

Marie obeyed. She heard the medical professional getting ready, placing tools in order. The agent took her hair and moved it to the right side of her head. She saw out of the corner of her eye the S.E.A. agent watching with narrowed, almost paranoid eyes as the man picked up a syringe. He injected the numbing agent into the base of her hairline, close to her left ear.

The numbing set in and the medical professional went to work. Marie squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to imagine the animated pictures she saw of what the medical professional was doing to her. As a child her parents couldn't afford letting her breath in a chemical which let her sleep through the whole thing. It traumatized her as a six-year-old, despite the numbing they did beforehand, watching strangers coming towards her head with sharp objects. They had to hold her down as they performed the operation. Those experiences fed into her fear of surgeries. At this moment, she tried to think of other things.

The chip was the most important part of the whole set up in her brain, but the delicate net around the inside of her skull was sensitive. At the base of the cerebellum they had placed a small port for the chip to go in. Luckily this surgery wasn't nearly as intensive as the one she received when they first inserted the entire mechanism, but knowing the sad man was cutting deep enough into her skin to reveal the port hooked up to the brain was enough to make her tremble.

The medical professional brushed against her ear as he set her old chip down on the tray. Marie glanced at the chip on the table, seeing a bit of blood on it. Marie once saw her dad pull apart an old computer with some of his buddies. The small chip looked a lot like the integrated circuit from one of the computers, but far smaller and more compact. The man picked up the new chip and insert it into the port connected to her cerebellum before he picked up some skin glue and began sealing the cut. Again the agent peered over this sad man's shoulder, not blinking, suspicious about everything the man was doing before suddenly giving Marie a smile.

"We're done here!" the agent said. "I'll give your dad a paper of all the updates you can expect from this new chip, and the care you need to give the area for the next few days. If you have any sort of swelling or bleeding around the area, call us immediately and we'll get it sorted out, but things should be back to normal by tomorrow if you're lucky, maybe the next day if needed. Enjoy the updates!"

The medical professional had all the tools on the tray by the time the agent finished speaking. The agent grabbed the man by the arm and lead him out the door. Marie changed back into her street clothes. She kept a glimmer of hope. Maybe the new updates would help her survive. It didn't magically make her voice better, but the lyrics would sync in with others better. She wouldn't scramble half a second behind everyone else.

Her dad helped her to the cab, graciously covered by the S.E.A., even though Marie insisted it wasn't a big surgery. The drive home was quick, and Marie was glad to sit instead of all the standing they did on the metro. Her dad helped her into their apartment and on the couch. Marie reminded him again it wasn't that big of a surgery, though she wouldn't mind spending the rest of the day watching TV. Her dad came back soon after, holding a wrapped box with a bow on top. "I got this yesterday. I wanted to wait until Freedom Day, but figured you'd want it now."

Freedom Day was two weeks away, usually falling on the day before schools started in the city. The Last Day of Freedom was a common name Marie and her classmates called the holiday. The older generation treated it as sacred. Freedom Day commemorated the day President Arnold announced his invention of the chip almost forty years ago and thus ending the brutal war. The chip brought with it long-lasting peace. Marie's dad had vague memories of the first Freedom Day, a parade and people singing in the streets. He had no memories of what it was like before Freedom Day.

Marie studied about the war in every history class she attended. The people who studied the sciences, people like Marie, were in charge and kept everyone in their place through threats of bombs and other terrible weapons. A rebellion rose up, and a brutal war lasting way to long almost obliterated civilization. With the invention of the chip, it weeded out those whose thoughts were too dangerous and deadly, which was most of the scientists and mathematicians. It was ingrained in Marie's mind that people who wanted to study the things she wanted to study were dangerous, and it was only through the arts and humanities that their civilization survived. Marie found it weird how the war was over when President Arnold invented the chip, meaning he had to dabble a bit in the sciences, but he had been known to say as long as people believed more in the arts, then peace could continue.

Marie turned off the TV and took the gift, her curiosity piqued. Her dad was a strict observer of Freedom Day. No exchanging gifts until after the late afternoon parade. But now he wanted to give her something a full two weeks early? Marie didn't wait another moment in case he changed his mind. She tore the wrapping paper off. Her eyes widened as she saw a cell phone box.

"No way! No way! No way!"

She pulled off the cover to be sure. Her dad wasn't the kind of person to play tricks, but part of her couldn't believe it was possible. There displayed in cardboard and tissue paper was her first cell phone.

"It's not a new flip phone model, but it can do texts and calls. I got one too, so we can stay in touch throughout the sch-"

Marie cut her dad off by jumping off the couch and giving him a rib cracking hug. "Thank you thank you thank you thank you!"

He laughed as Marie's attention returned to her new gift. She couldn't believe it! Her own phone! The thought of being able to text Sophie while at Presley filled her with peace. Maybe she could survive high school after all.