where all the poets went to die [dead poets society]

3 - fertilizing dandelions, indeed

It was only the first day and already, Maria was bored out of her skull. She had started the day with breakfast in her room, not wanting to attract any unnecessary attention and get on Nolan's bad side just yet. That would be for another day, another hill to hike up when she was ready for it. But after an hour or two of doing the schoolwork her uncle had prepared for her, Maria finally understood the scholarly statement that humans needed social interaction.

Her room was mind-numbingly boring with its white-yellow tinged walls and well-worn wooden floorboards. Even her window offered no form of entertainment, overlooking a simple green field.

Seeing her dejected face, her uncle had taken her books under one arm and ushered her out from their quarters and down to his classroom. "You will be joining my classes, Maria. I think as your uncle, it's necessary to give you some sunlight, water, and social interaction."

"I'm not a houseplant, Uncle John," Maria said with a laugh as they neared the room.

"Why of course not, you have no leaves."

She heard the classroom of boys before she actually saw them. They were talking loudly, laughing, throwing balled-up pieces of paper through the air, and being all sorts of rowdy.

Her uncle stopped before they got too close to the doorframe and would be visible to the class. He handed her back her books and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "I know you hate these sorts of things, but ready for your quick introduction?"

"My introduction?"

"Well, I'll be making your introduction, not you. Though, I do think that whether I do introduce you or not, all attention would be solely on you and not on my lesson anyways. But, best get the big elephant in the room out of the way first off, don't you agree?"

"Big elephant? Uncle John, you've just got gone from comparing me to a plant to an elephant," Maria couldn't help the smile that grew on her lips.

His eyes twinkled mischievously. "You can take up the desk by mine. Front row. Seems the boys don't fancy being that close to me, but perhaps, if I put you in the front, they'll have some motivation to look to the front of the class when I teach." He gave her a gentle shove. "In you go. I think you might get them to quiet down faster than I will."

Maria tripped over her Mary-Janes, stumbling into the classroom while shooting her laughing uncle the meanest look she could muster up. Her entrance quieted the boys tremendously. Gone was the chatter, the laughter, the throwing of stationery. A terrifying number of eyes froze on where Maria stood with her books held tightly against her chest.

Oh, goodness.

Her heart thudded in her chest and Maria quickly ducked her head and bee-lined to the empty desk her uncle had pointed out. She slid into the seat, dropping her books onto the wooden surface with a thud and kept her eyes trained on the faded vandalism on her desk.

It was so silent, a pin drop could probably be heard.

Perhaps she should have stayed in her room, boredom would have been better than these interrogative and curious gazes.

And then.

"Hey -"

Whatever it was one of the boys was about to say was interrupted by whistling.

The 1812 Overture, Maria realized as her uncle entered his classroom, whistling. He gave her a quick wink as he passed by her desk and walked through the throng of others, still whistling. The boys' attention was somewhat divided, some following her uncle as he moved and others still pinned on the mysterious girl sat up front.