“Wasn't he the one who sliced off his ear and mailed it to his girlfriend?""Van Gogh," said Varen, in a monotone that suggested he might be in pain."Van Gogh," Gwen said, leaning away, waving the apple. "Edgar Allan Poe. Close enough!”

“So." [Isobel] cleared her throat. "What are we doing?""We," [Varen] said at last, "are doing a project on Poe.""Didn't he marry his cousin or something?""The man is a literary god and that's all you have to say?”

“Don't let the elegance act fool you," Varen said, drawing out his notepad. "She farts.”

“Please welcome Professor Varen Nethers, famous depressed dead poets historian and author of the bestselling books Unlocking your Poe-tential: A Writer's Guide, and Mo Poe Fo Yo: When You Just Can't Get Enough.”

“His eyes remained on Isobel as he began a slow backward walk. He was doing it again, speaking to her with his eyes. She remained trapped in his stare, trying to hear him, to read the underlying message. Finally his gaze broke from hers and he turned away, walking off through the cafeteria doors.There was a pause before Gwen spoke. "Let me guess," she said. "Right now, you're trying to decide if that was hot or annoying." She paused, as though formulating her own opinion.... "It was so totally hot.”

“Gwen," he said in acknowledgement."Your darkness-ship," she returned with a bow.”

“Is it also true that you drank to excess?” Isobel asked, flipping to the next index card.Poe scoffed at the question, his response simply “Nyeh.”Varen’s head snapped so quickly toward her father that Isobel was surprised the sunglasses hadn’t flown off.“Well, sometimes,” Poe corrected himself. Shifting, he stooped in his seat.Varen’s stare remained.“Often,” Poe growled, angling away, pulling his already tight jacket around himself even tighter.”