As much as Marie hated it, there she was on the metro Monday morning. She got to school, and after a brief stop at her locker to stash her lunchbox, she headed straight for her class. Marie sighed as she took her designated seat and wondered if she should bother taking out her notebook and pencil.

The first bell rang, and a boy sat down next to her. He gave her a sheepish grin. "Hey, I wanted to make sure you were okay. You seemed shaken on Friday."

Marie looked over and blinked a couple of times. She'd seen this boy multiple times, but she struggled to recall what he meant. She felt momentarily tongue tied because he did have a handsome face and she didn't mind looking at it. "Um..."

"I'm Albert Einstein. We're in drawing together."

"Oh." Marie shook his hand. "Oh right! I've noticed you're in a few of my classes." He was the boy watching her out of the corner of her eye in drawing. The one she refused to look at in case she started crying. He was also the boy she was going to introduce herself to in her theater class before Marilyn grabbed his attention. "I didn't know we had Biology together."

"Yeah, I mean, I noticed you before, but you seemed busy reading."

"Right." Marie looked down at the science book in her bag she was about to bring out and decided against it.

"So, what's your name?" the boy asked.

"I'm Marie. Marie Curie."

"Good to meet you, Marie."

Marie tugged at the sleeve of her blazer, feeling self-conscious all over again of her second-hand clothes. "And yes. Thank you for your concern, but what happened Friday was a silly thing and I'm fine now. Excited to be learning science. Though I can't wait to get into chemistry."

Albert's eyes brightened. "You like chemistry?"

Marie felt more relaxed. "I do! I hear they'll go more in depth our Sophomore year."

Albert got comfortable in his chair and placed his notebook and pen on the table they now shared. "Personally I can't wait for Physics, but apparently I have to wait until Senior year."

"Oh, is physics a senior's only class?" Marie asked.

"It might not be, but Mr. Freud told me with my schedule I couldn't get in until my Senior year. I had to juggle my math this year to even make it."

Marie groaned. "Now I'm worried I won't get into physics. I have to re-take Algebra."

"Why?"

"It was the only time I could take a math class, and it was the only math class available." Marie rubbed her forehead at the thought.

Albert frowned. "That's no fair!"

"I know."

Albert explained about his situation. He had orchestra in the morning, which made it nice to get into Algebra 2. They talked about nothing but math and science, and Marie felt a thrill inside her. Whenever she talked to anyone else, she felt like the stupid one because they wanted to talk about the arts and humored her when she wanted to talk about her science classes. As she talked with Albert, she felt on the same level. Both were passionate about science and math. It was beautiful how easily she could talk with him, and how much she wanted to stay talking with him.

The final bell rang. Marie figured it didn't matter. She and Albert could keep talking through whatever movie a teacher would bring in. The door opened and a teacher she'd never met walked through the door holding a piece of paper. Mr. Freud was with this teacher. Marie gave this new teacher her full attention when she noticed he didn't pull an old TV behind him. Mr. Freud looked like he was about to follow him inside, an angry look in his eye.

"Thank you for your concern, Mr. Freud, but I have a class to teach," the new teacher said.

"We aren't done here, Tom."

"Okay." He then shut the door in Mr. Freud's face.

Marie glanced at Albert, a small smile on her face. This teacher got away with being rude because he was in his sixties. Marie was taught from a young age to respect the older generation because they had seen the horrors of the old world. The world before Musical Land was created.

He had thinning white hair. His dark brown eyebrows flecked with grey gave an indication to the color his hair might have been once. There were hearing aids in both his ears.

The teacher turned to the class and smiled.

"I hear you've been without a teacher for a whole week," he said.

Would they finally learn from a teacher instead of watching a movie? Marie was scared to raise her hopes up.

"My name is Mr. Edison. I'll be your biology teacher this semester."

It took everything in her not to stand up and clap. There were a lot of hushed yet excited voices. Did her dad's call make a difference?

"In faculty meeting this morning they required us to read this in our first hour." Mr. Edison showed them the paper he was holding. "Announcement for incoming Freshmen! In order to give you the best education possible, we need to asses your abilities. On any given day this month, the Singing Enforcement Agency will make your chips more sensitive to your emotions. Each one of you will sing one song in these halls to be judged by faculty members. This is for educational and monitoring purposes. Break a leg, and happy singing!!"

Mr. Edison crumpled the paper and tossed it in the trash. Marie felt her heart stop. A big song and dance was the exact opposite of what she needed right now.

"I have only one rule for my classroom. No singing," Mr. Edison said as he headed for the white board.

The nervous voices turned to a stunned silence. Albert raised his hand in the air, though he started talking without being called on. Mr. Edison had his back turned, drawing a diagram of a cell on the whiteboard.

"Um, excuse me sir, but is that possible?" It was clear Albert was taught to respect the older generation, since he used 'sir' instead of Mr. Edison's name.

"Not singing?" Mr. Edison asked without turning.

"Yes. If the chip activates and the music comes, don't we have to sing? Sir?"

Mr. Edison didn't answer until he'd finish writing down the word "nucleus".

"Well, yes. But don't try too hard."

Marie stared at Mr. Edison's back as he continued to label the cell. There had to be more to it. Marie heard a few of the older generation were more cynical, but this seemed different. If someone didn't sing, they were placed in the afternoon S.E.A. education program. If they continued to refuse, they would be placed under arrest, no matter the age. Was Mr. Edison encouraging them to break the law?

"As you can see by my badly drawn diagram, we're going to talk about the cell," Mr. Edison said.

Marie couldn't concentrate for a few moments. There was something off about her teacher. She wasn't sure what, but then again, she'd rather have him teach than another TV.

***

Marie stepped into the cafeteria and panicked. She walked in without first checking if anyone was singing or about to sing. She took a few breaths to calm herself at her rash decision, then continued to walk to a secluded table to wait for Albert.

She opened her lunchbox and pried the lid off her sandwich container.

"Hello!" said a voice she assumed was Albert's.

Without looking, Marie said, "Hey!"

When she did look up, she noticed two semi-strangers holding their lunch trays. Semi-strangers because she recognized both from her literature class. She didn't want to introduce herself until half way through the semester, but it looks like they took the initiative. One was the freakishly tall boy who was also in her dance class and the other was the boy she recognized who for some odd reason enjoyed Edgar's work.

"Oh hey!" she said again and felt herself wince. She couldn't turn them away now, and she could always have more friends.

They sat down and Marie was able to study them closer. The Edgar enthusiast had dark eyes, dark brown, almost black hair he had tied back in a pony tail, and an earring in his left ear. He was shorter than Albert, but still towered over Marie. His happy face seemed such a juxtaposition to Edgar's. She didn't get why he understood him. Marie watched him walk over to Edgar in every literature class and attempt to give him a high five, but so far, Edgar wasn't caving.

As for the freakishly tall boy, now he was sitting, and Marie could see more of his face. He had brown hair and grey eyes. He had a solemn face, one she had to admit wasn't a classically handsome one.

"I'm Marie Curie. I believe I know you two from my, um, Literature class."

"And theater," the boy with the earring said.

"Oh, right." Marie forgot both were in her theater class.

"Jinx over here has seen you in a few of his other classes, and we wanted to introduce ourselves."

When the boy said the tall boy's apparent nickname, the tall boy gave an embarrassed smile.

"Jinx?" Marie asked.

The boy's embarrassed smile turned into a frown. "A nickname since grade school. It's because I tend to fail at everything. My real name is Abe, though. Abe Lincoln."

"Pleased to meet you," Marie said.

"Or Jinx, if you'd rather," the other boy said.

Marie laughed. "Abe got into Presley High, one of the top high schools in the city. How could he have failed?"

Abe's face relaxed into a small but genuine smile. He was a bit more handsome with a smile on his face. "It's probably because my debate skills, but I failed the debate in the final round. I was given a hard topic, and I think they took pity on me."

"What was your topic?" Marie asked before taking a bit of sandwich.

Before Abe could answer, she heard Albert's familiar voice. "Marie?"

Marie turned to see Albert, looking at the other two boys despite saying her name.

"Albert! Hey! I'm just getting to know these guys," she said.

Albert paused before sitting down next to Marie. Abe looked uncomfortable.

"Abe here was talking about his debate skills which got him into Presley High," Marie said.

Abe cleared his throat. "It's, um, they gave me the topic of debating how Music has failed us as a generation. It was a super tough topic to debate, considering the last few decades have shown leaps into Musical prowess. I'm sure they felt bad I lost and put me here."

"Huh," Albert said, unimpressed. Abe gave him a challenging look. It made Marie uncomfortable. Were these guys going to get along?

"How would you have debated it?" Abe asked.

"First of all, debate is an obscure reason to get into Presley, but okay. I probably would have pulled more for imaginative perspective. I mean, there is a theory in science about parallel universes. We're living in one of many different universes. Some have only a slight variable, for instance if your friend over there had blonde hair instead of brown."

The boy with the earring touched his hair, a quizzical look on his face.

"Some have drastic differences, like if, for example, there was a world more interested in science and its contribution to society instead of music."

The boy with the earring, who Marie realized still didn't know his name, stared at Albert with wide eyes.

"Whoa. That sounds awesome!" His eyes wandered about, his mind alive with thought. "What would the world even look like? How would it affect music? The people? What kind of culture would they have?" He gave a gasp. "What if we were all born in completely different times? None of us would have meet each other. Sad, and yet fascinating."

Albert glanced at the boy as though surprised at the reaction. Abe, however, looked unimpressed.

"Debate deals with facts, not fantasy." Abe's voice was dry and to the point.

Marie didn't like the challenge in both their voices. She struggled to think of a way to change the subject.

"I'm Billy, by the way," the other boy said, coming out of his trance and looked at Albert. "Billy Shakespeare. It is a pleasure to get to know you. I can tell we're going to have great conversations."

Albert let himself smile as he shook the boy's hand. "Albert Einstein. I guess we established Abe got here because he failed. How'd you get here, Billy?"

Abe bristled at Albert's snide remark. Marie wanted to say something to tell them both off, but Billy started his introduction.

"You know the bad swear word?" Billy glanced at Marie before leaning in. "Macbeth."

They all nodded.

"As part of my portfolio, I decided to write a play about why it's cursed since it's known to be an invitation to the ghost of the guy who ruins plays and such. So, I wrote a play about his life and all the grisly murders he did."

It was strange to see Billy talk about writing a tragedy and murder while having a huge smile on his face. He skewered some of his salad on a fork and took a bite. He chewed with a curious look on his face.

"Does this salad taste weird to anyone else?" Billy asked as though he hadn't just talked about murder.

"That's...disturbing," Albert said exactly what was on Marie's mind.

"I know right? This texture seems off," Billy said.

"They meant your story, Billy," Abe mumbled.

Billy shrugged. "The word is cursed, you know? The guy had to do terrible things in his life. The judges weren't too critical on the gore, they were more concerned about the fantasy elements. I guess fantasy isn't an academic genre or whatever. Anyway, they put me in the beginning playwright's class as long as I didn't write anything fantasy for it."

Marie had finished swallowing some water when Billy said that and started coughing hard. The three guys turned to look at her. She composed herself.

"Playwriting class isn't offered to Freshmen," Marie said.

It was the first time Billy looked uncomfortable. "Yeah, I know."

There was silence around their table. Marie realized she had befriended a super genius, the kind she was afraid to befriend. She'd spend the rest of the year feeling inferior to whatever Billy created. It threw her off because Billy was approachable.

"Is it hard?" Marie asked.

"It's not too bad. There's a huge workload, though, and I still don't have an idea for it yet."

Marie frowned. "How does it work? Freshmen aren't allowed because the class has a strict schedule. Don't Sophomores write the play, work on it and critique it their Junior year, then cast and perform it for their Senior project?"

"Wow, Marie. You know a lot about it," Abe said, sounding impressed.

"There's a girl behind me in choir who bragged about it to her friends," Marie answered. "I think she felt bad being in beginning choir as a Sophomore."

Billy finished chewing another bite of salad with a dissatisfied look on his face. "Everyone in class keeps telling me the schedule too."

"Oh." Marie frowned, realizing it was a soft spot for Billy. "Sorry."

"No, don't worry about it. Mr. Freud promised it would work out. I might be, um, I might be skipping a grade..."

Abe turned, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "You never told me that."

"Well, it's kind of difficult to bring it up. 'Hey, Jinx, buddy ol' pal, they want me to skip a grade. Cool, huh?'."

"Yeah. That's exactly how you say it. Congrats, man!" Abe said.

Billy looked sheepish. "It's not final until they see what kind of work I do in the class. If it's remarkable, they'll let me move up. If not, I'll re-take the class and continue working on it."

"And you have no idea what to do for it?" Marie asked.

"None whatsoever. I mean, they want another tragedy since it was in my portfolio, and I'm just not feeling a tragedy right now."

There was another silence. Marie started to feel less anxious. A likable genius, maybe she could be friends with him.

"Well, we know Abe's story, we know my story, what about you two? How'd you get to Presley High?" Billy asked.

Marie squirmed in her chair. Technically she couldn't tell anyone about her situation, but how long did the principal expect her to stay quiet about it? Did they expect her to lie to her friends? She wanted to be friends, and wanted the friendship based on honesty. However, she didn't want them to run away when they found out about her situation. Would they turn into the bully, who'd throw her out the moment they knew?

"My violin," Albert said when Marie didn't say anything. "I did quite well in all my orchestra classes."

"Not bad," Billy said. "Marie?"

Marie glanced at the waiting eyes. It came down to it. Should she lie, and prolong the inevitable? Or should she be honest, and hope they don't hate her for being there?

All it took was for her to try and come up with a believable lie, and when she realized there was nothing in the arts she could believably be smart enough about to get her to Presley, she gave a pathetic smile and knew she had to tell the truth.

"I'm one of the charity cases," she said, trying not to sound like it was a big deal.

Billy laughed. "No, really, Marie. What brings you here?"

Marie didn't say anything and the truth of it settled on the three boys' ears. She prepared herself for their reactions.

"Really?" Billy asked.

"Really," Marie said. "And with the added singing tests for Freshmen, you will find out soon enough how bad I am."

"But..." Abe seemed at a loss for words. He glanced at Albert and Billy for help.

She busied herself with eating her sandwich. She wanted to be friends with them and wanted them to not be weirded out by this.

"Well, I'm glad you came to Presley," Albert said, his voice soft. "I hope you like it here, too."

Marie smiled. "Thanks, Albert."

The bell rang, and Marie packed up her lunch box. She stuffed it in her bag as the other boys got up. She said good bye to Albert as he turned down a different direction, and she, Billy, and Abe headed for their literature class. Billy started ahead.

Abe slowed his pace to stay even with Marie. They must have looked ridiculous, what with a freakishly tall boy and a short girl walking side by side. "I'm sorry to hear about your mom."

Marie tried not to make any outward appearance of how she didn't want to talk about it. She played with a lock of her hair.

"Yeah. It happened when I was ten. And not nearly as horrible as Edgar made it sound," Marie said.

Abe nodded. "I've come to realize he dramatizes the macabre. My mom died when I was nine."

Marie couldn't help but look up at Abe, realizing she needed to crane her neck back to see him. "Oh. I didn't know. I'm sorry."

A smile crossed Abe's somber face. "My dad remarried a year later. It's not at all like the stories say. Stepmothers can be fantastic."

Marie dropped the lock of hair she was playing with. "My dad hasn't remarried. I don't think he ever will. He kind of...focused on his hobbies after her death."

"Oh. That must be hard."

Marie shrugged. "We've managed."

"Are you guys talking about Poe's poem?" Billy asked, slowing down to talk to them.

"Poe?" Marie asked.

"The emo who wrote the poem about you," Billy said.

"Oh, yeah." Marie glanced at Abe. "I guess we are."

"Isn't he a delightful fellow?" Billy asked.

Marie waited for Billy to laugh at the obvious joke. Abe rolled his eyes.

"Delightful?" Marie asked.

"Yeah! You better believe he's got a story behind all his doom and gloom. I'm super curious to find out, but at the same time, terrified. It's a beautiful thing."

Marie chuckled. "I guess that's one way to see it."

"It's the writer in me yearning to understand human nature. Nothing more," Billy said.

The three of them entered their literature class and walked toward their seats. Marie saw Edgar in the first seat in the front. Billy waltzed right next to him and stuck his hand in the air for a high five.

"Poe! What is up!!"

Edgar, kept his head down and continued to draw in his notebook. Marie couldn't help but glance down and saw a creepy raven in thick black pen strokes. Billy waited seven long seconds, but the rejection didn't faze him.

"One of these days! Until then, keep being awesome, man!" Billy said as he made his way to his seat.