Marie sat in the back of the S.E.A. car, a headache forming from all the crying she did today, and it wasn't over yet.

The whole situation was confusing. The S.E.A. only went after people who refused to sing, not people who sang horribly. It was the whole reason why she felt obligated to sing the song in the first place. If she knew they would pick her up anyway, she would have never sung the stupid song.

"It'll be okay, Marie. You have a wonderful singing voice," her dad said.

Marie turned to meet her dad's gaze. "When was the last time you heard me sing?"

Her dad paused in thought before giving a smile. "You're eighth grade recital!"

Another wave of tears threatened to fall, and she pressed her lips together to somehow keep them at bay. "You heard me and fifty other kids."

"Well, it was beautiful, and your voice added to it."

"So... a while. It's been a while since you've heard me sing."

Marie had to turn away again. Like little kids who refuse to see their parents as anything less than perfect, her dad refused to see Marie like the rest of the world saw her: a charity case. By only seeing her as an amazing student, Marie felt like she herself needed to be perfect. This crash and burn felt painful because she knew, eventually, her dad's rose-colored glasses would slip away. He'd see her now, a struggling, imperfect student, and she was terrified by how he might treat her.

They arrived in the center of town, the towering, one-hundred story sky scraper dominating all other sky scrapers around it. Marie again was struck by how powerless she felt.

"Come, they are waiting to give you tests," the brunette said.

Marie walked over the S.E.A. seal. It was a picture of a fat woman and a skinny woman, their arms linked together, mouths opened wide as they stood forever in song. Around the seal was the motto: Anyone can sing to bring down the house.

Marie followed her dad, and her dad followed the brunette as they entered the building.

Their phones were confiscated at the front desk before the three of them stepped inside an elevator.

"We have three separate rooms for three separate tests to gauge your intelligence. First is singing, second is dancing, and third is singing and dancing combined. We'll monitor not only what the chip asks, but how you respond to the chip and your own interpretation. We are confident we'll find what went wrong during your Freshman tests and help you get better," the brunette said.

Marie felt emotionally drained. There was no way she could take these tests. She was exhausted and didn't want to be here. They would soon discover it was her, not the chip, which was flawed. She was more nervous about what they would do after they discovered this.

"And I will still be with her, right?" her dad asked.

The brunette looked like she was thinking things through. "You will not be in the room with her, but you are more than welcome to join us in the observation room."

A jolt of panic shot through her body before exhaustion swallowed it up. Observation room? She didn't want to know how many S.E.A. agents would be observing her. She wanted to go home, curl up in her bed, and forget about today.

When they got to the testing level, the brunette took her dad to one room, and a different agent took Marie to another. S.E.A. agents quickly scanned her chip and placed extra wiring around it.

They ushered her into a room with a microphone. The door closed, and she was left alone except for the invisible eyes watching her.

"Sing whenever you're ready," came a voice from the speaker.

Marie sighed, then made the last few strides to the microphone. She heard a buzzing, then the chip immediately began to activate. Music filled the room and Marie closed her eyes.

"I'm scared of singing

"And scared of dancing.

"My heart is bringing

"A fear advancing."

Marie kept her eyes closed, wishing this wasn't her life right now.

"To admit I sing bad

"Is a thing I do common-

"-Ly say. And it makes me sad

"That it's not uncommon."

The music died away. She heard the voice over the intercom again.

"Thank you, Marie. We've gathered enough information."

Hopefully they told the truth and didn't cut her short because she sounded worse than a shrieking tea pot.

Another agent ushered her to the next room where a male S.E.A. agent stood waiting for her. They danced for a half hour. They started with a basic cha-cha, then moved to a more basic salsa dance. They moved into the foxtrot, then waltzes. Marie knew all the steps to these dances, but the exhaustion of the day made her stumble more than usual. They pushed through, going through the basic steps of every dance she knew. The agent quietly encouraged her.

For the final test, it was the same male S.E.A. agent and she sang the same little tune from before while he waltzed with her. Again she only got two verses in before they cut the music and told her they had enough to go on. The male agent gave her a friendly enough smile before leaving. It did nothing to comfort her spirits.

They took her back, scanned the chip again, and took off the extra wires. She was ushered into another room with a table and three chairs. Marie sat down and placed her head in her hands. She didn't know if this room was monitored, but she didn't care anymore. She was exhausted and wanted to go home, but she still didn't know what they had planned for her.

The door opened and Marie turned. Her dad walked in and smiled at her. If she could call it a smile. He knew now how bad of a singer she was. He couldn't deny it any longer.

He sat next to her and put an arm around her shoulder. "Everything is going to be fine."

He didn't believe it. She saw it in the way he couldn't keep her gaze, or how his smile wavered the moment he sat down.

"Did they tell you that?" Marie asked him this to force him to face his lie.

He still couldn't meet her gaze. "Well, no. I just..."

Marie turned away and felt anger burn inside her exhausted soul. Why couldn't he face the truth for once? She wasn't his perfect, smart little girl.

"An official is going over your results. He or she will come in when they have a plan of what to do," he said quietly.

The air conditioning turned on, chilling the sweat Marie produced during the dance. Worry lines appeared on her dad's forehead when he thought she wasn't looking.

They waited five more minutes when the door opened. Marie looked up and stifled a gasp. The official stood in the doorway. Tall, brown hair, brown eyes, and all too familiar.

"Marie, hello."

Marie gazed at the table. "Mr. Germain."

"They thought it would be good for you to see a familiar face after what happened today."

It wasn't his familiar face she wanted to see. In fact, it made her exhausted state more of a burden. Marie began chewing the inside of her lips.

Mr. Germain gave her dad the barest of nods before he sat down. He pulled his glasses out of his pocket, put them on, and opened his laptop.

"How's Sophie?" Marie asked out of instinct, wishing she was back with her friend instead of her dad.

"Oh, she's fine," Mr. Germain said.

Marie doubted it. She remembered the text she received from Sophie on the walk back from Presley High.

Mr. Germain tapped a few keys on the laptop. He studied something before giving a nod.

"What's the situation?" her dad asked.

"It is indeed her, and not the chip, we should focus our energies on," Mr. Germain said. "I'm glad we caught this in her Freshman year. It would have hurt her chances of attending a good college and making a livable career."

"Am I out of the social experiment? Can I go to a school where I belong?" Marie asked.

Mr. Germain looked surprised. "Take you out of the experiment? Why?"

"Because it isn't working," Marie said.

"On the contrary." Mr. Germain pulled up something on his laptop before turning it around to show them. "Your grades are a vast improvement from this time last year, especially in the artistic classes. Sure, there's this setback with the freshman tests, but it tells us you need extra help. Help we're willing to give."

Marie shook her head. "It's too late. You're hope for a double-blind experiment is out. Everyone knows I'm a charity case."

"You're not a charity case, Marie. You are a student who needs an extra push," Mr. Germain said. "And we knew people would eventually find out. We'd hoped for longer anonymity, but now we are curious to see what happens moving forward."

Mr. Germain turned his laptop back toward him. "We at first thought it was the chip because the lyrics were quite bad. We picked up on some clues, and I must ask. Was this your second choice of lyrics?"

There was something in his tone which made Marie fight off the desire to shrink in her chair. Mr. Germain tried to give an air of nonchalance, but Marie saw the intensity in his eyes as he studied her face. She cleared her throat before answering.

"Yes. They were."

His eyes narrowed. "Why did you go with the second choice?"

"I, um, didn't like the lyrics to the other one," Marie said.

"And what made you think you could simply choose what to sing?" His tone was dangerous.

Somehow she knew Mr. Germain would figure out if she was lying, so she told the truth. "I figured it out a few years ago. If we didn't like the lyrics given, we could wait, and the chip would make another one."

"What topic did the chip give you?"

Mr. Germain's fake friendliness disappeared. Marie felt like she was under arrest and he was demanding answers from her.

"I... I was going to sing about my friends. I didn't think it was appropriate since they were sitting right next to me."

Mr. Germain studied her, and Marie couldn't look away. More tears came to her eyes, and her dad placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Doesn't the chip show you the lyrics of the other song she chose not to sing?" her dad asked.

"No." Mr. Germain's eyes were still locked onto Marie's as her dad dropped his hand. "Unfortunately, it only logs those which are actually sung. The chip is a marvel, but it can only do so much. Now tell me, Marie, what subject did you think so inappropriate that you couldn't sing about it with your friends?"

Marie felt nauseous. She had to tell the truth but revealing this to her dad and Mr. Germain at the same time made her face turn scarlet.

"Crushes." She tore her eyes away from Mr. Germain and stared at the table, her heart pounding in her chest. Marie spared the tiniest glance at her dad. His mouth was hanging open.

In that moment, she related with a bug under a magnifying glass, wanting to run away from the beam of Mr. Germain's stare before she burst into flames.

Finally, Mr. Germain turned his attention toward her dad. "Though Marie's grades are better than a year ago, we are still concerned. Except for biology and algebra, but we are more concerned about her grades in the arts."

Marie stared at the table, trying to ignore the tears in her eyes. Her dad didn't seem to know what to say.

"I was aware she was struggling a bit, but I figured it was because of this social experiment."

"And we still have high hopes it will work," Mr. Germain said.

Her dad nodded. "What's the next step?"

"We want to focus on two main areas, singing and dancing. Marie will still attend Presley High, and after, she will be escorted here. We will spend an hour and a half helping her sing, and hour and a half at dance. We want everyone to succeed in life, and education is the key."

Marie felt a tear fall. She was in the S.E.A.'s after school program. The one rumored to be full of future criminals. Was it now a crime to sing horribly?

"This is a marvelous opportunity for her, I just... it's three more hours of school." Her father shifted in his seat. "She won't get home until six. Do you think it'll help?"

"Oh indeed. We've helped hundreds of kids find their dancing feet, so to speak. It will last as long as she needs. Most students are done in a couple weeks."

"Oh. Well, great. Sounds good." Her dad didn't sound excited.

Mr. Germain smiled the kind of smile of a man who often gets his way, then turned to Marie. "Excellent. You start tomorrow."