Anne listened quietly, recognizing every title, having read most of them herself. She considered for a few moments, then timidly raised her head a bit.

"W-well....if you l-like...supernatural f-fiction....you c-could always try....s-some of the m-more modern...series writer....Katie MacAlister....Jim Butcher....Patricia Briggs....or if y-you'd rather...r-read something...non-fiction...I h-highly recommend anything b-by....Noam Chomsky...p-particularly Barriers..."

She quieted and looked at Melanie nervously, not quite sure how much she should say, or if it would make her look like a weirdo to suggest too much.

"T-there's also...a f-fairly interesting...g-group of novels....re-imagining the Frankenstein s-story....w-written by Dean Koontz....called the Frankenstein s-series...since w-we were j-just....d-discussing it and all..."

Melanie nodded along as she recorded each name. For each book she could get her hands, Melanie could be entertained for a week. But, with authors, there were multiple books. Especially with Noam Chomsky. Melanie had actually read some of his works before, but she never really dug into his stuff, like Anne did with Frankenstein. And then...

She mentioned Dean Koontz.

"No way!" she said, jumping up, smiling excitedly. "DEAN KOONTZ did a series about FRANKENSTEIN? Why didn't you mention this in class? I would have loved to have known."
After her personal moment of book rage, Melanie took her seat, and embarassedly looked around. She then wrote the words in the biggest letters she could fit.
"Sorry, but I have a thing for Dean Koontz. He's just such a good author."

She relaxed slowly, watching Melanie write down the author's names. She was...relieved? Flattered? She was...something, that the other girl had actually listened to her, and not been weirded out. Maybe she was being oversensitive....then again, there had be-

She flinched backward into the corner as Melanie jumped up excitedly, for a brief moment terrified, until she realized the orange haired girl was simply very, very energetic about her love for a certain author. She took a breath and forced herself to relax, smiling timidly as Melanie re-took her seat.

"I d-doubt the...professor w-would consider...Dean Koontz a c-classical...author. B-but the series is...v-very good. He t-takes...a more p-personal approach...t-to the Creature...w-who is in f-fact...the m-main character of the s-series...and his t-take on the Doctor...is j-just chilling. T-there is....no q-question at all....w-who the monster is...in h-his telling...of the s-story."

She inched forward again as she spoke, leaning back into the sunlight coming through the window. She smiled again, glancing outside at the quad before continuing.

"I f-fully agree...I much prefer h-his writing...to say...Stephen King's....n-not that I d-dislike...Stephen King's writing, mind y-you....I just l-like Koontz m-more. Do y-you mind if...I ask what y-your favorite s-story of....h-his is?"

"I dunno. If I could only pick one of his books, I guess I would choose Odd Thomas. I dunno why, but I really like that series. The characters are so vivid and so different. I had to sit through the reading three times before I knew the entirety of the plot, but each time after that still presented something new." Melanie sighed, lost in Nostalgia. If she knew she wasn't going home for a while, she probably would have brought her entire collection.

"But, I mean, it could have been one of cool little tidbits of information that gets the rest of the class interested. You know, like mentioning Pride, Prejudice and Zombies."

She nodded slightly, head tilting to the side that didn't reveal her face.

"I r-rather liked that....s-series as well...t-though I found t-the....first b-book a b-bit sad....at the ending. I do know w-what...you mean about t-the characters t-though...they almost f-feel alive...when y-you're reading about them."

She blinked a few times, then chuckled softly at Melanie's suggestion.

"T-that book was....w-wonderful. So was t-the...sequel....Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Hunter. I c-can't believe....s-someone thought to...d-do that kind of....offkilter m-mashup with history and....h-horror tropes. Oh! D-did you...know b-both of those....b-books are...set to m-made into movies? F-from what...I read, the author...is producing and adapting...t-them, with...I t-think Tim Burton d-directing...one of them."

"Yeah I heard- he's directing the Lincoln one. Though I'm a little bit worried- maybe they're going too fast with that one. I doubt the movie will be any good." Melanie smiled anyways. For her, the mash up was perfect. The author had done something all kids dreaming of doing at least once- rewriting the books that they were forced to read at an early age. It was such a perfect fit that Melanie had mentally slapped herself for not seeing it coming.

"But some of the other books that try to do what he did really fall flat. Like Sense, Sensibility and Sea Monsters. It was just wasn't funny! I hate it when authors just write towards a trend. Like Romance novels! Geez, they can get absolutely terrible!"

Then Melanie noticed that Anne had hidden her face again. Her brow furrowed slightly, but her eyes remained... affectionate.

"Anne... you should be more discreet when hiding your face."

She listened quietly and nodded in agreement with her assessment of the movie, her head tilting back towards normal. She leaned forward again, resting her elbows lightly on the tabletop.

"T-there will always....b-be opportunists...t-trying to ride a wave...t-to easy money. T-thankfully...in literature at l-least...the consumer c-can strangle...t-the profits...of the s-subpar authors...t-thus keeping them...f-from repeating the offense. And I...disagree...about r-romance novels...s-sure some are just t-trashy...or ridiculous....b-but others are v-very sweet...t-though I m-much prefer....m-manga for m-my romance....f-fix..."

She froze at the mention of hiding her face, one hand rising reflexively to check her hair before she forced herself to stop and put her hand on the tabletop. She lowered her eyes to the wooden surface and started fidgeting anxiously, seeming to visibly shrink, her shoulders hunching inward protectively, her body curling and sliding back towards the corner, out of the light.

"....I'm....s-s-sorry..." she whispered quietly, keeping her head down.

"N-No, don't be sorry," Melanie responded, stammering for the first time that day. "I was just suggesting that because it would only attention to your... face..." her words trailed off. She had just ruined the conversation in her blunt friendly manner. How was she going to live this one up? Unable to say much more, Melanie looked to her tray of half finished food. She smiled, said that she would right back, and put the tray and food away.

She returned soon after, and began to look outside at the quad.
"Seems like a nice day," she commented, fishing for comments.

She sat in silence, listening to the other girl stutter for a change. She briefly wondered if it was contagious... Her head bobbed in what may have been a slight nod as the other girl trailed off, though she remained mute, her expression sullen and bereft. When Melanie walked away, she barely glanced up, instead pulling back the sleeve of her jacket and looking at the burns curling up the side of her right hand, the scars more subtle there than other places. ...still a freak... she thought numbly, her mind turning towards the girls who had cornered her in the bathroom.



She could imagine how Melanie felt at the moment, and why she had gotten up. It wasn't her fault, Anne couldn't blame her for being disgusted. Staring at the tabletop, she blinked back tears, refusing to cry in public, not again.



She glanced up as the orange haired girl returned, and forced herself to smile, nodding slightly. She turned towards the window, using the excuse to hide behind her hair completely.

"I g-get the impression...t-the w-weather is...almost always n-n-nice here...t-though...it has b-been getting a b-bit c-cooler...t-thankfully...."

"Well, whether we like it or not, we are on a tropical island," Melanie reasoned, almost forlornly. She was surprised the girl was still talking to her, given her brusque suggestion and insensitive interference with the manner in which Anne hid her face. "So, I guess its only natural that the weather be nice."
Melanie still would have preferred to have a bit more variety in her weather. It would probably make her feel more at ease if it a least rained every now and then.

"Anne..." Melanie began, hoping that the girl would still open up to her. "I'm sorry I brought up the burn marks. I imagine that it must be a tough subject for you."

She nodded along slowly, though the island weather gave her no end of grief. She rather hoped the cool trend would continue, for a little while at the very least. She glanced back at Melanie as she apologized, and lowered her head again, her hand twitching like it wanted to rise to her hair compulsively.

"...it d-doesn't m-m-matter....I d-don't talk...to anyone m-most of t-the t-time anyway..." she murmured quietly, fidgeting anxiously. Her hands shook slightly as she sat in silence for a few moments, the time it took her to quell the urge to get up and walk away. She took a deep, slow breath and nodded gently, glancing back up at the girl across from her.

"...I'm j-just....n-not used t-to....being around n-n-normal...p-people...anymore...I d-d-didn't...h-have t-to worry about...anyone seeing m-my face...as m-much at m-my old school..." she stammered out haltingly. It was somewhat obvious she was avoiding the topic of her burns, apparently a very tough subject for her.

Melanie had a feeling that this conversation was getting too hard for the both of them. She apologized for bringing up the subject again, and decided to pack up. "I'll just transcribe the recording in my dorm room. You want to come along?" she asked, noting that the cafeteria was starting to get crowded.

Her head lifting slightly, the dark haired girl looked at Melanie with an empty, downtrodden expression. She knew she'd killed what flow of conversation they'd had, been too weird to get along with. She missed Leslie....terribly... It had never been this hard to be around her. But...she'd left, had to leave really, and she could never go back. She'd have to get used to this...

"Y-you...don't m-mind me...c-coming with y-you?" she mumbled softly, as if she didn't believe it, or thought that Melanie was just asking to be nice. After a moment, she decided that the other girl didn't seem the type to make empty gestures like that, and nodded slightly, putting her things away carefully into her bag.

"Of course! Why wouldn't I be?" Melanie asked, genuinely curious. Sure it couldn't have been easy to live those scars, but was she actually being different because of them? Who would dare to do that? It was unfair! The poor girl was probably lonely after all of this.

"Come on, I'll show you. Its not much though- don't have a room mate yet, and I'm not a personal fan of Feng Shui," Melanie quickly warned. She warned everybody about the conditions of her room. It was, sadly, lacking in the "looks" department. But she didn't mind. Looks didn't matter.

She nodded slightly, taking her bag over one shoulder as she stood, waiting for Melanie to lead the way. She brushed one hand through her hair quickly, unable to resist the compulsion after having moved about so much in a short time. It was like a nervous tic for the dour girl, as obsessive as nail-biting or foot tapping was for others.

"It is l-likely the s-same...as m-mine...and I d-don't have...a r-roommate either...n-n-not that...I p-particularly m-mind, h-honestly...." she muttered quietly, looking out the window briefly, studying the other girls moving about the grounds, most traveling in pairs or groups, smiling and talking amongst themselves. Sighing softly, she looked back to Melanie, waving one hand towards the exit of the cafeteria.

"After y-y-you..."