Maura flushed the toilet, wiped her mouth, and watched the remains of her breakfast swirl away. Her first class was in two minutes – Biology with Mrs. Brooks in room 204 – and it wouldn't do to be late.

She opened her stall and peered into the main area of the bathroom. Only a lingering cloud of hairspray remained. She fished a travel-sized toothbrush and toothpaste from her purse and began restoring proper oral hygiene. A swig of mouthwash and a fresh coat of lipstick later, she practiced her most confident smile in the mirror. It looked as awkward as a child's first steps.

She sighed, and left the bathroom. The hallway was empty, and a quick glance at the time confirmed why. She raced to her class as fast as her heels would allow and entered just as the bell rang.

The room went quiet. Students elbowed one another, and everyone looked her way.

Heat crept up her neck and settled in her cheeks, the kind that meant her face was bright red. But there was no need to panic. She inhaled slowly and deeply. There had to be a logical reason why they were all staring at her. Perhaps there was vomit on her dress? She resisted the urge to look down or do anything that would signal weakness.

The silence persisted, grew pregnant with tension. Someone coughed. She needed to say something, anything. "Is this room 204?"

Someone snickered. Maura began to tremble.

….

Jane shook her head. The new biology teacher was going be a total pushover, but at least she was good-looking – gorgeous actually. That would probably keep some of the boys in line. Jane looked around the room and had to laugh at how many jaws hung open. No one had even bothered to answer the poor thing. "You're in the right spot," she said. Gave her a reassuring smile.

Looking relieved enough to star in the after portion of a hemorrhoid cream commercial, the woman made her way through the classroom and sat in the empty seat next to Jane. She set her laptop and attaché case on the table, and folded her hands in her lap.

All eyes were on them. And just when Jane thought things couldn't get any weirder, the woman leaned over and whispered, "Do I have vomit on my dress?"

Jane slowly shook her head.

Seconds later, a tall, slender redhead rushed into the room and set her attaché case and laptop on the teacher's desk. "Hey guys, sorry I'm late. My wife and I got into a fender bender on our way over. Never had an accident in her life until my first day at a new school. Go figure. Anyway, as you've no doubt realized, I'm Mrs. Brooks, your Biology teacher for the year." She scrawled Rachel Brooks on the chalkboard and turned to face a classroom full of thoroughly stunned faces.

"If you're our teacher, who the hell is she?" asked a kid in the second row.

Mrs. Brooks followed the direction of his arm. "I don't know. We haven't been properly introduced. What's your name?"

"M-Maura Isles. I'm a new student."

A series of "ohs" filled the room, followed by a very loud "booyah!" from a boy at the back of the class.

"Pleased to meet you, Maura," Mrs. Brooks said. "It's my first day, too, but I've heard St. Dominic's is a great school, so I'm sure we'll feel right at home here in no time." She winked at Maura, and headed back to her desk to take attendance.

….

As Mrs. Brooks launched into an overview of what they'd be studying in the first semester, Maura found herself unable to concentrate. She snuck a look at her lab partner. Jane Rizzoli – whose name she'd discovered during roll call – was heavily engrossed in what Mrs. Brooks was saying, affording Maura an unfettered opportunity to observe her. She was definitely Italian, and definitely attractive, with large chocolate eyes, smooth olive skin, and the most exquisite bone structure – all of which combined to create a curious blend of elegance and strength.

And then there was her body. Maura's gaze travelled the length of it. Beneath baggy clothing, there were faint outlines of a long, lean and lightly muscled frame. She could be a model. Maura watched in rapt fascination as Jane's hands came alive, tearing a corner from a page in her notebook, uncapping a pen, and jotting a message, which she folded and casually slid across the table to Maura.

Maura blinked at it in disbelief. Not once in her entire academic career had anyone bothered to pass her a note. She looked up at Jane, but the girl seemed completely absorbed in the class.

With trembling fingers, Maura unfolded the note and deciphered the sloppy blue script.

What are you staring at?

Maura sat up. Had she really been that obvious? And what was she supposed to write back? Dishonesty was never one of her strong suits.

You.

She refolded the note, and slid it back towards Jane.

Jane picked up the note, read it, and raised an eyebrow at Maura. She scribbled a reply and passed the note back.

Maura reached for it at once, finding the back and forth of this forbidden exchange exhilarating.

Why? Do I have vomit on my dress?"

Maura frowned. Jane was not wearing a dress. And what were the odds that she had thrown up before class, too? She was most likely poking fun at her, but whether or not this was mean-spirited Maura couldn't tell. Humour was also not one of her strong suits.

She replied in a straightforward manner, slid the note across the table, and waited.

….

The note was back, but Jane wasn't sure she wanted to read it. Her new lab partner was a total weirdo. After showing up for class looking like a teacher – scratch that, the girl's dress probably cost more than a teacher made in a month – she had the nerve to stare at Jane like Jane was the freak. Lord only knew what she'd written this time. Half a bible, judging by the length of the note.

A quick glance up, confirmed Mrs. Brooks's back was turned. Jane scooped up the note, and began reading.

I was staring at you because you are exceptionally beautiful. Have you considered a career in modeling?"

Jane's cheeks grew warm. This had to be a joke. Maybe Kate already got to her. Maybe she already knew. Jane whipped her head towards Maura and found the girl quietly observing her. Their eyes met, and Jane was startled by the openness of Maura's gaze. It was like she had no idea you weren't supposed to look at people like that. Interesting eyes, though – kind of green and grey with pretty gold flecks.

Jane forced herself to break eye contact, and looked at the note again. She was trying to figure out an appropriate reply, when Mrs. Brooks announced that everyone should spend the rest of the class getting to know their lab partners.

They turned towards each other, and Jane held up the note. "So, were you just being nice, or is this your way of telling me you're attracted to me?"

Maura laughed and shook her head. "Neither, I was simply stating the truth. While beauty is somewhat subjective, I believe you possess physical attributes that are universally venerated: well-formed eyes, clear skin, healthy hair, impressive symmetry and a pulchritudinous waist to hip ratio. Given your height and body type, this would make you the quintessential candidate for a career in modeling."

"Well, you sound like you eat encyclopedias for breakfast."

Maura wrinkled her nose. "That would be inadvisable. Humans can't digest paper because it's made from pulp, which contains cellulose, which we don't have the enzymes to break down. My actual breakfast was a bowl of mixed fruit and toast. However, I was so nervous about my first day, I threw up before class."

"Are you for real?"

"I'm not sure I understand your question. Are you posing a metaphysical query? Parmenides was among the first philosophers to examine the fundamental nature of existence ––"

Jane clamped her hand over Maura's mouth. "Okay, I'm gonna stop you right there before my brain explodes. How do you know all that crap? Are you some kind of genius?"

Maura pointed to Jane's hand, which Jane promptly removed.

"Yes."

"Like Einstein?"

"That's difficult to say. He is frequently reported as having had an I.Q comparable to mine, however this is based on speculation because he never actually took a standardized intelligence test."

"No kidding. I've always wanted a genius for a lab partner. So, where'd you go to school last year?"

"Saint-Marguerite's. It's an all-girls boarding school in Paris."

Ooh la la, the girl was definitely rolling in it. "You must have hated it pretty bad if you decided to transfer senior year."

"Badly," corrected Maura. "While the school provided me with an excellent academic foundation, I felt I was missing out on the co-ed experience, and I wanted to be closer to my family."

There had to be more to it than that. No one transferred in senior year unless they absolutely had to – it was the equivalent of social suicide. "So you came for the boys?"

"Would it be terrible if I said yes?"

"Nah. Did you really throw up before class?"

"Yes. The toilet paper here is incredibly thin."

"Welcome to public school." Jane reached into her backpack and fished out a pack of MintyBlast. "Want a piece of gum?"

"Yes, please."

Jane popped a piece into her hand, wondering why Maura was smiling like she'd won the lottery. It was just gum. But soon she was grinning back just as widely. She was about to ask what Paris was like, when an arm slid around her shoulder.

She looked up, saw Rory Graham, and her smile vanished.

"Hey Roly Poly. How was your summer?" The 6'2" captain of the school football team seemed more tanned and toned than ever. With his gleaming white smile, crisp baby blue polo shirt, and immaculately coiffed hair, he looked like a walking, talking Abercrombie ad. Too bad he was the world's biggest asshole.

"What do you want Rory?"

"Down girl," Rory said, patting Jane's head, as he looked Maura up and down. "I figured since I was done getting to know my lab partner, I'd come introduce myself to yours. Unless, you'd like to do the honours."

Jane removed Rory's arm from her shoulder, and put on an obviously fake smile. "Maura, Rory. Rory, Maura. Now get lost."

He ignored her and extended his hand towards Maura. When she shook it, he kept her hand in his, and stared deeply into her eyes. "Maura's a very pretty name. It suits you."

Jane pretended to gag behind Rory's back but Maura didn't see. She was too busy eating up everything he said with a spoon. Poor thing probably never got the chance to develop creep radar at that all-girls' school. She definitely needed saving. "Put it back in your pants Rory. Maura and I still need to exchange contact info for class."

Rory narrowed his eyes at Jane, and smiled sweetly at Maura. "Hey, why don't we all exchange info? That way we'll have an extra contact if we ever need notes for a class."

"That's a great idea, Rory." Maura pulled out her cell.

Well, that had backfired.

They all exchanged numbers, although when Rory asked for Jane's, she gave him the number for her favourite pizza joint. There was no point in making herself the target of late night prank calls. When they were done, she looked pointedly at Rory, hoping he would piss off so she could warn Maura what a huge douchebag he was.

Instead, he pulled up a stool and turned up the charm. Jane was all but ignored, so to kill time, she decided to see if she was telepathic. She focused on Maura's forehead and mentally transmitted the phrase "Rory's a douchebag" over and over. When that proved ineffective, she switched to "He just wants in your pants", and then finally to "He posts the names of girls he sleeps with online."

By the time class ended, Maura was completely taken with Rory, and Jane was forced to admit she didn't have "the gift". She did her best not to puke when Rory offered to carry Maura's books, and refrained from rolling her eyes at the ecstatic expression on Maura's face. Not that this would do her any good; it was only a matter of time before Maura heard the rumours and chose never to speak to her again.