A/N: Thank you so much for all of the feedback on the last chapter. It really means a lot to me and your kind words inspired me to stay up and write this chapter. Sorry if it's so short, but I just thought I'd write an intro for Maura just like last chapter was an intro for Jane. I hope you enjoy it. :)

Maura Isles had never been a popular girl nor had she ever been anyone's best friend. Over the duration of her preschool through twelfth grade years, Maura kept to herself except for the occasional elementary school birthday party in which the birthday boy or girl's parents invited every kid in class. Maura would attend the parties, but she was merely an observer rather than a participant. None of the other kids would talk to her let alone play with her, so, instead, she'd stand against a wall or sit at a table and watch her classmates play Pin the Tail On the Donkey and Duck, Duck, Goose until it was time for her mother to pick her up. If she ever tried to participate, they'd all start chanting "Maura the Bore-A" until little pigtailed Maura would retreat back to her position against the wall or at a table.

…but that was then. Maura Isles was now eighteen-years-old and she was determined to have an enjoyable college experience. She knew she wouldn't live a life that teen movies portrayed, but she hoped something good would finally happen to her.

Less than forty-eight hours after she moved into her dorm room, Maura decided she was going to join a sorority, but after attending Rush Week events she received zero bids and had an experience not unlike the birthday parties she attended as a child. The girls in attendance at these sorority events were considered hip and beautiful and many of them had been cheerleaders or Homecoming Queen in high school. Maura knew she had a lot to offer a sorority, but there was just something these girls had that she didn't or maybe it was something Maura had that the other girls didn't have. Maura was poised and that might have been a quality these girls weren't looking for in a sorority sister. Not wanting to feel defeated, Maura decided to attend a frat party with some girls who lived down the hall from her. The party was somewhat enjoyable until one of the frat guys asked Maura to take a hit from the beer bong. The idea of putting her mouth on something that dozens of people at the party had also put their mouth on was the final straw for her. She politely declined and then returned to her dorm room. There were dozens of other organizations for Maura to join, but after being shunned by every sorority on campus and the rude awakening at the frat party, Maura felt it was safer to stick with what she knew: solitary confinement.

As days passed, she became closer to her roommate Marcia, whom everyone called Markie. Markie was unlike anyone she had ever met. She socialized with people, but she didn't exactly give a damn about what anyone thought of her. She was steadfast in her beliefs, especially her feminist beliefs. Markie was part of the riot grrrl movement and, although Maura wasn't too familiar with the movement, she enjoyed reading the zine that Markie and some of her high school friends had started. They wrote about heteronormativity and the social construction of gender—topics that Maura had never learned about in school. From Markie, she learned about body confidence and accepting her sexuality. Maura had yet to have a physical relationship with a woman, but she no longer felt as if her lesbianism was something taboo or something she had to be ashamed of.

Maura could honestly say that Markie was the first friend she ever had, which is why she was more than willing to attend her friend's gig at Stuevie's. Maura knew Stuevie's wasn't the type of venue she was familiar with, but Markie was going to be there and, as long as Markie was nearby, she knew she had nothing to worry about—nothing other than this blind date Markie had set her up on.

Maura looked through her closet for something to wear while Markie was putting the finishing touches on her make-up in the bathroom. Maura's closet was filled with designer clothes and vintage pieces from her mom that most girls envied, but nothing she owned felt right. Her clothes suddenly seemed so plain, so blasé, and what Maura wanted was to be bold if only for one night.

"Markie?" Maura called out from in front of her closet.

"What's up?"

"I'm going to borrow some of your clothes."

"Shut up," Markie scoffed. "Maura Isles wants to borrow my clothes?"

"May I?" Maura asked. "Nothing I own seems appropriate for tonight."

"Go ahead," Markie responded. The moment she had Markie's approval, Maura headed over to her closet and tried to find something to wear.

The contents of Markie's closet were the complete opposite of Maura's. There were oversized shirts, baby doll dresses, ripped jeans, vintage pieces from thrift stores, as well as clothes Markie had made herself. This was Markie's everyday wardrobe, but Maura felt as if she were playing dress up. She could lose Maura Isles for one night and become anybody she dared to be.

When she saw a distressed floral-patterned dress, she knew she had found the right piece for her. The dress had a baby doll fitted top and a flared skirt, which wasn't too different from dresses Maura was used to wearing. The dress fit her perfectly, but Maura knew something wasn't quite right.

"Markie!" she shouted. "Can you come here?"

"Are we going to a frat party?" Markie asked when she saw her. "Maura, you look like a vapid sorority girl."

There was no hiding Maura's confusion. She looked at herself in the mirror and, although she knew something was missing, she didn't feel as if she looked like a sorority girl. "How do I look like a sorority girl in your dress?"

Markie repeatedly looked Maura up and down. "It's not just what you wear, Maur. It's how you wear it that matters." She reached into her one of her drawers and pulled out some ripped, black thigh-highs. "Try these."

"But—"

"Try 'em, Maur."

Maura did as she was told and slipped the thigh-highs over her legs. "Do I still look like a sorority girl?"

"No," Markie insisted. "You look perfect. Now, let's do something about your hair and makeup."

Maura's mascara had been deemed suitable by Markie, so all that was left was her lipstick. She typically wore lip gloss or nude lipstick, but Markie knew that wasn't going to cut it tonight. As long as Maura was changing her look, Markie told her she might as well take it to the next level. She handed her a tube of burgundy lipstick and Maura applied it as carefully as she could. The burgundy hue made her skin look pale, but Markie insisted that it suited her just fine, so Maura decided to take her word for it.

Once her makeup was completed, Maura worried about what was in store for her hair. Markie's dark hair was continuously bleached until it had become platinum and straw-like. Maura thought Markie was a beautiful girl, but she had absolutely no desire to have hair like hers. Maura took pride in her golden locks; she had never dyed her hair and she had no intention of ever doing so.

Maura put a hand on each of Markie's shoulders and held them in a firm grip. "Please tell me my hair will never come in contact with a bottle of peroxide."

"Sit!" Markie commanded. She had completely ignored Maura's statement and all of her focus was on what she should do with Maura's hair. After several failed attempts at styling it like hers, Markie grabbed Maura's hair and piled it into a messy ponytail. There were loose strands hanging out but it was the only hairdo that was given Markie's approval.

Maura stared at herself in the mirror, completely in disbelief that the girl staring back was actually her own reflection. If only her high school classmates could see her now. Her exterior no longer resembled the nerdy girl that everyone had tormented—their very own "Maura The Bore-A." She was still living on the periphery, but for once—just once—she wouldn't be the only one on the outside looking in. She was finally going to belong, even if only for a night.