She ambled into her Literature class and sat in the back. She pulled out a different notebook, a pencil, and stared at the white board. The wall next to the teacher's desk was covered in shelves with books stuffed into them in any way they could fit. The rest of the wall was lined with inspirational quotes from literature and around the top of the room was a timeline of all the important books published in the past.

The bell rang, and Marie felt proud for making it to class on time. She studied her school map in case there was another fiasco and a ton of people started singing in the halls after class again.

"Hello, class! I'm Ms. Dickinson, and welcome to Literature." Their teacher had dark hair and dark eyes. "I'll do a short introduction, and then we'll do a get-to-know-you activity!"

Marie's heart dropped into the acid of her stomach as she tried not to panic. Get-to-know-you activities never went well. There was always a song or dance involved. Everyone got a chance to discover the smartest or most popular ones in class and stick a spotlight on the shy or not as smart students. Marie pressed her lips together, then bit down on them from the inside to make them tighter.

"Partner up with someone you don't know. I have a list of get to know you questions you'll ask each other. Then you'll introduce your friend to the entire class. Any questions?"

This didn't sound too hard, though still frightening enough.

Someone raised their hand.

"Yes?"

"Do you want us to talk about them? Sing about them? What kind of introduction?"

"Any kind you want. You don't have to talk about them. You could draw a picture, sing a song, write a poem, anything you want."

Marie felt sick. Yep, there it was. Her class would soon find out she didn't belong at Presley High.

She watched as her classmates got up and talked to each other. Even though Ms. Dickinson requested they find someone they didn't know, everyone headed straight for their friend. Marie felt the ache of loneliness as she got to her feet, scanning the room to see if anyone was still left. She missed Sophie.

"Anyone still looking for a partner?" Ms. Dickinson asked.

Marie awkwardly raised her hand. Ms. Dickinson lead her to a boy, also in the back row. Somehow, even though they all had the same school uniform, his uniform felt somehow darker. It didn't help that he had on black eye liner and black bracelets around his wrists. His thick brown hair didn't look combed, and he had a hint of a mustache on his upper lip. He stared ahead as though hating the world and didn't even acknowledge Ms. Dickinson as she approached with Marie. Marie's hands went icy.

"What's your name?" Ms. Dickinson asked Marie.

"Um, Marie. Marie Curie."

"Hello Marie. This is Edgar Poe. I'm sure you two are going to have..." Ms. Dickinson struggled to find the words, "an interesting time together."

She scuttled away and left Marie staring at her new partner. Marie went back to biting her lips together as she sat down in the empty seat next to Edgar.

"Um, hi. I'm Marie, like Ms. Dickinson said. This... um, should be fun. I don't know many people in Presley H-"

At that moment Edgar looked at her and Marie stopped talking. Edgar let Marie peek into his soul with his look, and all she saw was swirling darkness. No, more than darkness. It was darker than the blackest night, reaching out and placing a frigid claw over her mind, making her forget ordinary functions like speech. Marie's mouth went dry. Edgar turned away again.

"High." Marie finished her sentence and wanted to curl up in a ball to search for her happy place.

"Here's a list of suggested questions if you're having trouble knowing what to ask," Ms. Dickinson called out.

It was the longest eight minutes of Marie's life. Edgar refused to say anything, he simply took the paper and began writing down his answers to give to Marie. The silence between her and Edgar unnerved her. She had to fill it, so she opened up her mouth and blabbed about herself. If she remained quiet, the strangeness of Edgar would haunt her, and she would rather make an utter fool of herself.

Edgar silently handed back his page and began writing his introduction of her. Marie glanced through the answers he gave in a thick black scrawl.

"I mean, these are good questions. But there are always the good old-fashion get-to-know-you questions. Like favorite color. What's your favorite color Edgar?" Marie found herself asking.

Stupid question. He would say something emo like black. It was the only color he seemed to notice. Edgar glanced up again and Marie fought through the terror as he stared painfully into her soul.

"Or, or like, favorite hobby?"

Marie realized the more she asked these questions, the more she didn't want to know the answers from this boy. But the silence between them drove her to ask, to fill the space with noise.

"Or favorite animal?" Her voice got quiet until it was almost inaudible at the end. She had no idea how to talk to this creepy boy. To her utter surprise, Edgar opened his mouth.

"I like ravens."

He turned back to his work and continued to scribble in his notebook. Marie took a deep breath and let it out as quietly as possible. She studied the answers he gave her and tried to think how to fit them into a poem. At least she had an excuse not to talk to Edgar. He was creepy.

The chat with Edgar took an eternity. The actual writing of the introduction sped by. Soon Ms. Dickinson was asking for the class' attention to start the introductions. At least Marie and Edgar were in the back row.

Marie couldn't pay attention to the introductions. She was nervous about her own. A lot of them did duets, taking turns in the song to sing about each other. Other's wrote sweet poems they made rhyme in the short amount of time they were given. One person even drew a picture of the events which happened in the person's life with intricate detail. Marie couldn't pay attention to the names, she only compared her lame poem to the smart introductions of her classmates.

"Okay, next!" Ms. Dickinson called.

Marie knew they were next, but it didn't stop her heart from sinking. Feeling light headed, she got up and walked to the front of the class. Edgar stared at her, she assumed a cue to go first. Her poem was a disaster compared to the other students, so she skipped it and read the list. She struggled to keep her voice loud enough for everyone to hear, and to keep her face from going red in embarrassment.

"And finally, what takes up the most of Edgar's time? He has written down, um, imagining what it would feel like to have worms gnawing at his body after he's dead."

Marie winced before glancing over the paper to her classmates. "Edgar Allen Poe everybody."

The class was quieter than usual. One boy sitting in the middle row seemed to nod as though he somehow understood Edgar's strange plight.

"Okay," Ms. Dickinson said slowly. "Edgar, why don't you introduce Marie to us."

Marie clutched her paper as she glanced at Edgar. He brought out his notebook and in a dry, monotone voice began his poem.

"Marie wants to be a scientist

"But will not plan to be a nihilist

"In fifth grade she was a finalist

"For a project on decomposing food."

Okay, Marie thought. A normal verse. Sort of. It'll be fine.

Then he started the second verse.

"Marie Curie was a child when

"Marie Curie's mother died and

"Marie Curie's life was torn by

"Never saying her good bye."

Marie's face grow hot. She was afraid he'd mention her mother's death the instant it left her mouth. He must have twisted it to make it worse. She did get to say good bye to her mother, though it was a tearful thing she didn't want to remember at this moment.

"Marie Curie never wanted

"For her life to be so haunted.

"She wants to study math undaunted,

"And to make her father proud."

Marie knew her eyes were getting wide. She found she could no longer look at her classmates and pretended to scratch her neck and look at the wall.

"Never was a girl so driven,

"To her science she has given.

"Maybe then she'll be forgiven

"For her struggles with the arts."

Marie hoped the ground would crack open and swallow her. She stared at her hand-me-down shoes, memorizing every scuff and scratch as Edgar continued. She cursed herself for telling this boy her deepest insecurities. How did Edgar get her to do that? She panicked, wondering if she somehow told him about being part of an experiment. She honestly couldn't remember anything she said to him. Though she was sure the students could figure it out with Edgar's verse he just read.

Marie peeked over and saw he had one last verse.

"To her mom, she will remember

"All the good she had engendered

"But as the fire dies to an ember

"Marie searches on for her repose."

If the class was quiet after she introduced Edgar, then now they were living in a vacuum. Marie ventured a glance among her classmates. Some had their mouths hanging open. A few looked at Edgar, embarrassed. Some watched Marie with pity, whether because of the life described by Edgar or because she had to be teamed up with him. Then there was the boy again who had nodded when she finished Edgar's introduction. He had a huge smile on his face. A smile like Edgar had written something beautiful instead of creepy. Who was this kid?

Ms. Dickinson cleared her throat.

"Thank you both for... such a memorable introduction. Who's next?"

Marie made her way back to her seat and refused to look at anyone.

The humiliation made it difficult to concentrate on the rest of class introductions. At the end of those, Ms. Dickinson gave a basic overview of Literature and what to expect in her class. Marie started to zone out, feeling the effects of a bad night's sleep, coupled with stress. She wanted to go home and nap. She was done with school, but she still had to suffer through one more class after Literature.

The bell finally rang and Marie picked up her things, getting ready to head to her last class.

"Hey, Marie!"

Marie turned. A girl in her literature class ran up to her. Marie didn't know her name, since she didn't pay attention to the names in the introduction.

"Um, hi," Marie said.

"Hey, I wanted to say I'm sorry about the passing of your mother. If you ever need anyone to talk to, know I'm here."

Marie tried to smile. "Thanks. I mean, it was four years ago. I'm feeling okay now."

The girl paused, a frown on her face. "Are you sure?"

"Um, yeah." Marie started to scramble for her words. "I mean, of course death is always hard, but things are going well."

The girl still didn't believe her.

"I do miss her at times," Marie said. It was true, but she liked keeping that part of her life locked up.

"And I am sorry to hear about it. Please let me know if there's anything I can do."

"I will. Thanks."

The girl ran off and despite the girl's kindness, Marie felt humiliated all over again. She didn't want to relive the hurt of her mother's death again, and she didn't want to talk to the girl to relive it. Why did she have to be partners with the emo kid? Why did she spill her guts to him?

She attended her last class, which was intro to drawing. It turned out her teacher was Mr. Ross, and he was a much better art teacher than science teacher substitute. For their introduction they drew self portraits and showed them to the class. Marie did not want to do this either, but it turned out intro to drawing meant a few other students weren't great either.

At long last she arrived home. She dropped her backpack right as she walked inside. Tomorrow brought a new set of classes which would feel like the first day of school all over again. The thought of it made her want to cry.