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Not One Of The Girls - Part 1

Season 2

ALL STORY LIST | PARTS - PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7 | PART 8 | PART 9 | PART 10 | PART 11 | PART 12 | PART 13 | PART 14 | PART 15 | PART 16 

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“Six Degrees of Separation is the idea that everybody in the world is six -or fewer- social connections away from each other. Also sometimes known as the six handshakes rule” the teacher; Mr. Knowles, recounted cheerfully. He was a tall man; maybe five-eleven in height, with overly long brown hair that waved eccentrically when he moved too quickly. Although he was thin, he could not be construed as ‘gangly’, he carried himself too well for such statements to be true. His rich brown eyes shone with his passion for teaching.

He once stated that “To teach; as in, to mold a young mind is the very idea that a young man or woman, can go on to become something as humble as a garbage collector or even something immense as a world leader…as long as those young people carry their teacher’s lessons forth in life, there is no greater gift”. Did I also mention he was an odd character? “You’re all familiar with the expression; a friend of a friend, right?” he asked brightly.

There was a murmur of assent from the class. “Well, that very expression was born from this idea. The notion was first formed in nineteen twenty-nine by a Hungarian author by the name of-” he glanced around at the assembled kids “can anybody tell me the answer to this one?” he asked enthusiastically. Seeing no raised hands, his smile slipped slightly.

“Anybody? No? Alex, you seem like a cultured girl, do you know who it was?” I balked. I guess I should probably take a moment to explain a little about myself. My name is Alex Evans; the youngest of two children born to Mark and Bridget Evans. My older brother Jake is what you would consider your ‘typical’ alpha male. At just over nineteen years old, he was muscular, loved sports, and always seemed to have a girl hanging on his arm, even if it wasn’t the same girl for more than about a week.

He was our father’s pride and joy; our old man would rant about how Jake was going to university to be a lawyer, just like him. Though their real passion lay in cars, the two of them would spend their weekends working on old junkers that they would fix up and sell on. Our mother would always gush that Jake looked so much like our father, at just over six feet and three inches, he was actually of a couple of inches taller than our dad.

Jake also had the traditional family jawline and when he grew out a beard…let’s just say, I heard an expression once that beards were like the male push-up bra. If that was indeed the case, then my big brother was sporting an ample set. Why start with a massive tangent about my brother I hear you asking? Well; having recently turned eighteen, with my wiry frame and standing at a paltry five feet and one inch, I was actually a couple of inches shorter than our mom.

I didn’t like sports and although I ‘was’ interested in fixing up an old junker, it was more to do with the fact that I would have my own transport than any love of machines. Then of course there was the whole jawline thing, because I had soft features, people often said that I looked a lot like Mom, which really would be fine…if I were a girl. It was so embarrassing.

I’d be out shopping with Mom; just to get away from Dad and Jake with their ‘Sports Series’ events, we’d be stopped by one of the wives of Dad’s work colleagues, then I would have to endure the; “Is this your daughter? She’s very pretty” and the “you look so much like your mom” comments. Although I knew my mom was as embarrassed as I was in these instances, she was too polite to correct people, and given my shy nature; I wasn’t about to argue the point either. Jake always got a real kick out of such occasions; he would spend hours after referring to me as ‘little sis’ and other terms that were meant to be derogatory.

I guess I didn’t really help matters by keeping my hair exceptionally long and I conditioned it at least twice a week, what can I say? I took a lot of pride in looking after my hair, Dad did try frequently; to encourage me to get it cut, but I was always reticent to do so, the idea just always felt wrong to me. I looked up at Mr. Knowles, beet red from the fact that he had drawn attention to me, I had managed to remain under the radar for much of my month at Ryden high, just by keeping to myself, when a teacher called me out like this though, it always felt like a beacon, pointing wayward bullies in my direction. “Um, it was Frigyes Karinthy,” I said softly, still blushing furiously as the entire class had turned to look at me.

I had hoped that in giving the correct answer, he would then move on to someone else. No such luck. “Very good. Do you happen to know who wrote the play in nineteen-ninety?” the teacher asked with a smile. I genuinely wondered if it was possible to ‘glow’ from embarrassment. “Uh, it was John Guare” I responded hesitantly, whilst shifting anxiously in my seat. “Great!

So, we know who sired the idea and where the play came from, but what do we know about the evolution of the idea?”. Mr. Knowles had walked over to me and was smiling broadly as he held out his hand, feeling more self-conscious than I ever had in my life, I awkwardly accepted it and he pulled me lightly to my feet. I sighed morosely and trying desperately not to make eye contact with anyone, I began, “In nineteen twenty-nine, Frigyes Karinthy released a collection of short stories.

One of which was titled chains or known more colloquially as ‘chain-links’. “In it, his characters posited that with the growing levels of communication, coupled with the relative growth of towns and cities meant that you could, in theory; contact a specific person…one that you had never personally met, via a network of no more than five personal acquaintances. “The idea garnered a lot of interest from those that were researching varying social networks at the time and it was later professed by Manfred Kochen in his manuscript; Contacts and Influences, that, with the continued growth of society as it was, the number could likely be dropped down to two people or three depending on social structures.

“The actual term of Six Degrees of Separation, however, was never used by any of its forebears…that term was popularized by Guare in the nineties. “According to Guare himself, the play is actually based on the dalliances of a con-man during the eighties, rather than the original idea posited by Karinthy in ‘chain-links’”. Although I generally disliked being mistakenly identified as a girl, I couldn’t really blame people for doing as such. See, it wasn’t just how I looked, when I spoke, I had a naturally light voice and when I was nervous like right now, it had a shy, breathy quality to it.

It was, frustrating. I didn’t even wait for Mr. Knowles to say anything before I sat down, hiding my burning face behind my hair. “Well, that was very well articulated” he beamed from the front of the class; he had returned there to perch against his desk as I was speaking. “Can we have a round of applause for Miss Evans everybody?” I groaned lightly. There it was again ‘Miss’ Evans. Fortunately, with the smattering of polite applause that I received; nobody heard the groan.

When the bell rang at the end of class, I gathered up my books and made to leave the classroom, but Mr. Knowles called me back. “I know you’ve only been at this school for a short amount of time, so it would be remiss of me to jump to conclusions, but I just wanted to make sure you’re ok. I can’t help feeling that -given your obvious intelligence you seem to be holding back”. He spoke kindly, yet even though he genuinely seemed to care, I maintained looking down at my sneakers. “I’m ok Mr. Knowles…just not really a spotlight kind of person; showboating is more my brother’s thing”.

I said the last part a bit more forcefully than I had intended. There was a pause before he responded, “Oh…ok, well in that case, I’m especially sorry that I had you up before the class today. I was just impressed that someone your age would be so familiar with such a subject. I’ll be keeping my eye on you, you’re unique”. I flushed pink and nodded my acknowledgment of his apology before saying, “I don’t know about unique, but the idea that we’re all interminably connected like that, it really intrigues me”.

I managed to pull my gaze away from my sneakers and looked up at the man’s smiling face. “Well good; I’m glad to see a youngster taking an interest in the world outside of social media. I truly am sorry that I embarrassed you. I promise I won’t make you ‘showboat’ anymore”. Mr Knowles looked at his watch and raised a surprised eyebrow. “Is that the time already? You should probably get going before you miss lunch” he advised.

I nodded my agreement before disappearing into the hall and heading toward my locker. “You’re Alex Evans, right?”. I heard the sultry voice and knew before even looking up who it was. Kiera Fellows: She was a stunningly gorgeous redhead that stood about two inches taller than me, apparently, she was generally a nice person, though it was rumored that when she lost her temper, she was an absolute beast. She also happened to be head of the cheerleading squad, with the social circles that came with it, you know other cheerleaders and the meat-head footballers that they tended to date.

So…why she was standing at my semi-secluded table addressing me was going to be interesting… “That’s me, something I can do for you?” I said quietly, not even looking up from the book that I was reading. “Um…well, me and the girls were wondering…well, we were hoping that you might help us out with the assignment that Kickstarter gave us - on that six-degrees thing - according to Cass Fleeting; in your class, you’re something of an expert on the subject”. I know that nicknames by their very nature can be odd things, but ‘Kickstarter’ was one of the most interesting that I’d heard.

There were several rumours as to where it had originated but I figured the most likely one was that it was something to do with Mr Knowles being a classic bike enthusiast. But then - as it was with rumors about such things - you could never really be sure. I looked up from my book slowly and stated indifferently, “I don’t see what I would gain from that”. Although I didn’t say it specifically with the meaning of being an asshole, I was very much aware that it came across that way. “Well darling, being the new kid around here, it wouldn’t hurt you to have ‘some’ friends” Kiera replied tartly, as she glanced around at my mostly empty table. I sat for a moment, just looking up at her. “I think I’m doing ok on my own, thanks” I shrugged as I returned my attention to my book.

Kiera just stood there for a moment, occasionally tutting as though trying to decide on something else to say to me. After maybe a few minutes of the non-sensical noises; I sensed her leaving, I was then left to finish my lunch, undisturbed. As I got up to dispose of my lunch tray, I glanced over in the direction of the athlete’s table and saw a couple of the cheerleaders looking at me oddly, they seemed honestly confused as to why I had no interest in increasing my social standing.

I just smiled wanly as I cleared my tray and left the dining hall.  I was walking home after school; listening to my music playlist when I heard her. “Allie, wait up!”. I rolled my eyes as Kiera charged up to me and scooped my arm up in hers, she then practically dragged me along the sidewalk. “It’s Alex…” I grumbled, reaching up to pull my earphones out as I half-heartedly tried to loosen my arm from her grip. “Ok Alex-” Kiera purred almost sarcastically, “you said earlier that you couldn’t see any benefit to helping us with our essays, right? So, what if we paid you?” she queried hopefully. “You can use the cash to buy some make-up; maybe” she added crassly.

I stopped suddenly and turned to face her directly. “Why are you so interested in getting my help with this essay? And you do know I’m a guy, right?” I demanded whilst feeling a familiar frustration. Hey, just because I was generally too shy to tell people that they had made a mistake. That didn’t mean that I ‘never’ stuck up for myself. “Oh wow, but you’re so pretty” was all that Kiera said as I managed to slip my arm from hers and continued walking along the street. It was only a moment before she caught up with me and looped her arm back in mine. “We have to maintain a B grade to keep our place in the squad-” she explained cheerfully, as though I hadn’t just tried giving her the slip.

“And with this assignment, you’re our best shot at doing so-” she peered around at me earnestly as she grumbled, “Look…we just need a few hours of your time to hash out the details for the essay and maybe give them a quick once over before we hand them in. “We’re willing to pay ten dollars each; so, with the whole squad, that’s fifty bucks, how can you say no?” Although I was still annoyed that I had once again been misconstrued as a girl, fifty dollars just for helping some airhead cheerleaders with an essay on a subject that I was practically an expert on… It was easy money, right?

I thought about it for a moment before sucking my teeth lightly and sighing, “Fine…I’ll do it. But you can’t just copy my essay-” I insisted “It needs to be unique to each of you. I don’t want to get in trouble for helping you too much”. Kiera actually squealed in delight before we continued walking, with her clinging even tighter onto my arm. I did try to shake her loose a few times, but she made it clear that she intended to walk with me.

What also became quite clear was that she liked to chat. She talked about everything as we made our way through the large community park that was the short-cut that I used to get home; the girls in the cheer squad, the guys that some of them were dating, school, and her part-time job, were just some of the subjects that she decided to talk about. She also seemed to have this ability where she could lead from one subject to another without missing a beat, this was done frequently without her even taking a breath. I was honestly exhausted just listening to her.

I had little input during the ‘conversation’ and was very relieved when she finally stopped at the end of a road about ten minutes outside of the park. “Well, this is me,” she said brightly as she finally let go of my arm. I shrugged weakly. “So…um, when do you want to get together for this assignment?” I asked quietly. The redhead looked thoughtful for a moment, “The girls normally come over to mine on Thursdays for dinner, after practice.

So we’d all be together. Can you do maybe six o’clock?”. I frowned, Thursday nights, I would normally be joining in an online tournament on my computer. There was a game that was due out at the end of November however and I would be the envy of all my gaming buddies if I could get the collector’s edition of the game on release day. I already had fifty saved and with the additional fifty from the cheerleaders, it would certainly cover that. And what was one tournament? it wasn’t like we were world-class gamers or anything. “Yeah, Thursday at six, will be fine” I confirmed as I pushed my hands into the pockets of my hoodie. “Awesome…well, I’ll see you at school anyway, but we’ll see you Thursday” Kiera beamed.

I watched after her as she wandered along the street and disappeared across the lawn of a huge house about halfway along. Once the girl had entered her home, I plugged my earphones back in and continued the remainder of my walk home, relishing in the peace and quiet.

When Thursday evening rolled around, I found myself staring along the road on which Kiera’s house was situated, I was shifting from foot to foot trying to decide whether I should turn back or not. These kinds of social situations always made me feel anxious, to the point that; when I had told my parents that I would be out for a while on Thursday evening, they did a double take, and of course, when Jake found out it was a girl’s house…let’s just say the two days in between were something of a nightmare.

After another minute of bouncing on my feet, I forced myself to think of the game that I wanted to get at the end of next month, I managed to steel myself and walked along the road to Kiera’s house. Once I reached the house though, my anxiety peaked and I suddenly felt ‘really’ underdressed. All of the houses in this area were nice, but Kiera’s house was so majestic it gave off a ‘by invitation only’ vibe, as I walked along the narrow pathway beside the huge driveway, I constantly felt like I would be stopped by security at any moment and removed as ‘riff-raff’.

I reached the front door without incident though and reached out to push the doorbell, I then took a couple of steps back and gripped my workbooks against my chest, almost defensively. I was waiting for maybe a minute or so before the door was opened by a regal-looking woman in her mid-forties. It was clear from the look of her, that she was Kiera’s Mom. She was maybe a little taller than Kiera, but she carried pretty much the same shape and she had the same rich green-grey eyes, in fact, the only real difference between Mother and Daughter was that Mrs Fellows had some laughter lines and her neat up-do had the slightest trace of grey in it. “Can I help you?” she asked simply, giving me a once over with a look that was bordering reproach.

“Uh…I’m Alex, I’m here for an assignment with Kiera” I mumbled in response whilst blushing furiously. Mrs. Fellows looked taken aback. “You’re Alex?” she asked with uncertainty, she seemed to be trying to work out if I may be lying or not. Like nope, I totally kidnapped the ‘real’ Alex and turned up to do their essay, no biggie. God my inner monologue can be a real asshole sometimes. “Well, I suppose you should come in then” she grumbled as she stepped back to allow me access. “Um…thank you ma’am” I murmured as I stepped into the well-lit and ornately decorated foyer. “You have a very beautiful home, Mrs. Fellows,” I said dumbly as she closed the door behind me. She gave me a ‘well, of course, I do’ look, before calling up the stairs, “Kee, Alex is here”.

Mrs. Fellows then proceeded to watch me like a hawk as I wandered around the hall looking at the various decorations on show. She stared at me critically, seemingly trying to work out why her daughter was associating with somebody like me, I found myself blushing again as the woman took in everything from my overly large hoodie to my baggy jeans, right down to my lightly scuffed sneakers. I tried not to let her staring bother me as I looked around nervously. A painting on the left side of the hall caught my attention. “Is that Claude Lorrain; A View in Rome?” I asked as I walked over to it. “Unfortunately, it isn’t the real one” Mrs. Fellows stated a little callously as she followed me over to the painting.

“Of course-” I smiled politely “the brushwork is incredible though, I assume it was painted by someone who saw the painting up close, right?” I inquired. Mrs. Fellows actually smiled as she replied, “It was painted by a former student of mine; he was lucky enough to spend some time with the original, yes”. She seemed incredibly surprised that I had an interest in art and she seemed to warm to me as we debated over our favorite artists and their works. “I mean sure; Rembrandt has some beautiful portraits. But he doesn’t hold a candle to Lorrain when it comes to landscapes,” I said confidently to which Mrs. Fellows nodded thoughtfully.

It was only when Kiera cleared her throat that we both looked around, she was standing about halfway up the grand staircase and she had a wry smile on her face. “Oh Kee, sweetie, you didn’t tell me she was a fan of the arts” Mrs. Fellows admonished her daughter. I actually flinched when she used the female pronoun whilst regarding me, I was about to correct her when Kiera retorted, “I never would’ve got her away from you if I had Mother. I’ve been stood here almost ten minutes as it is”.

The girl then beckoned for me to follow her up the stairs. “Well, it’s nice to see you’ve finally found a friend that has some culture in them-” the woman teased her daughter playfully before smiling at me kindly, “It’s lovely to meet you, Alex”. “It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Mrs. Fellows” I murmured before beginning the climb up the stairs. “Oh Kee, tell the girls that dinner will be a bit later tonight, your father will be late from work” Mrs. Fellows called out to her daughter as she disappeared into one of the rooms off the main hall.

I had to jog the rest of the way up the stairs as Kiera had already climbed to the top and was wandering off down one of the side halls. When I caught up with her, she turned and apologized. “I’m sorry about my mom thinking you’re a girl, if she knew I had a boy round, she would make us use my dad’s study. It would get a bit cramped with all six of us”. I wasn’t particularly happy about the arrangement, but I mumbled that I understood. We then walked the remaining distance to her room in silence.

Not One Of The Girls - Part 1

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