• “We make friends for all different reasons, but there’s always something in it for us, isn’t there?” – Odinstoy, Odin’s Voice, by Susan Price

    ~.~.~.~


    She doesn’t relate to people well; that much is obvious as soon as you meet her. Even when she was little, the girl would usually be that one kid playing by herself, simply because she didn’t see the point of sitting in a circle and talking or playing clapping games for the whole of lunch like the others. Whether it was a tomboyish nature or some unnoticed developmental disorder, the fact remains that when she did play with other children, it would usually be during more energetic games like soccer or tag or ‘lets-see-how-high-we-can-climb-up-this-tree-before-the-teachers-see-us’. Perhaps this is why, of the small number of friends the girl had back then, most were either boys or tomboyish girls.
    It doesn’t help that she is no stranger to change. For instance, by the time she turns sixteen, the girl will attend three different primary schools and two high schools. Only one of these relocations is due to moving house, but that is not the point. The point is, that at all but two of these schools, it will take between six and eighteen months for her to make a single friend. At her second school in as many grades, her classmates already start to think of the girl as a loner. This is one of only two that the girl will make friends relatively quickly in.
    Sad, isn’t it? But the girl is of that fortunate age in childhood that confers oblivion on one’s self-perception, so she either does not notice or does not care. She simply focuses on doing the things she likes, and soon discovers that she can excel in most things with little effort. She makes the school athletic team every year and tops all her classes; she even develops a strong affinity with computers and a talent for chess.
    As the girl excels, she draws slight resentment from some of her fellow classmates – what gives her the right to just walk in and surpass them all?
    By the time she leaves to start at her third school – which has a special class for gifted students – the girl has all but given up her sports to focus on a less people-oriented venture: books. They do not judge, they do not have expectations; they exist simply to inform and entertain, to make the increasingly long and lonely lunches pass a little faster. They soon become her refuge as, now in fifth grade, she no longer associates with the opposite gender, but does not understand the subtle intricacies that are beginning to evolve amongst the other girls. Rather than attempt to unravel their increasingly complex inner workings and social hierarchies, she retreats further away from her classmates. In turn, they retreat away from her; they are somewhat unnerved by this pale, distant girl who does not attempt to assimilate.
    Fifth grade turns into sixth, and the girl still makes no friends. She is greatly unhappy at this school, yet her parents say she must finish the year there. Her strict, traditionalist teacher does not understand her, so she retreats even further into her books to escape the teacher’s disappointment and frustration.
    This is the school where it takes eighteen months for the girl to finally make a friend - a kind, bubbly girl whose sunny disposition is impossible to dislike.

    ~.~.~.~


    High School brings new upheavals – uncertain and hesitant the girl drifts between cliques. Feeling the sense of acceptance in none of them, she finally realises that her individuality can be a burden as much as a gift. She finds sanctuary in the school’s library; the staff are at first mystified by their strange refugee, but soon begin to see her truly: she is nothing more than an intelligent, observant girl severely lacking in social skills.
    Ever so slowly, the girl makes a small number of friends. It takes her the better part of seventh grade, but in the end she is genuinely happy; her new friends are as like her as she could hope – they share her love of books and new technologies, and seem to be accepting of her odd quirks.
    The girl starts to reach out to her new companions, revealing more about herself than she has ever dared before. She gives her all, trying her best to maintain the friendships despite her lack of social skills.
    Due to these inadequacies, the girl does not notice that one of her friends - a small girl of Asian descent - has begun ignoring another: an exuberant, though ever-so-slightly chubby redhead. She interprets the simmering tension between the two as nothing more than a minor argument, and, convinced that the enmity will resolve itself eventually, she does not interfere directly – instead trying to soothe the situation laterally.
    She attempts to act as if nothing is amiss; however, the girl tries too hard – when she talks with her companions, she talks about herself and her opinions because they are some of the only things she is sure will not inflame the situation. It turns out her good intentions do the opposite: through her well-intentioned meddling, the girl unintentionally gives some of her friends – including the Asian girl – the impression of being self-centred and arrogant. As they keep their opinions to themselves, she does not realise that she is making things worse; the girl continues until the petite one finally snaps in a torrent of frustration and rage.
    The small girl uses all her wiles and schoolyard influences to paint the object of her sudden wrath as nothing less than an utter disgrace to humanity; she is cruelly effective, and the girl finds herself outcast. In the space of a day, all but a few of the girl’s closest friendships have been damaged, and most are irreparably shattered – only the redhead and another friend remain unswayed by the Asian girl’s abrupt hatred.
    The girl, in abject disbelief, refuses to believe that her former companion could switch so quickly from friendship to loathing; reality only starts to sink in once she discovers the truth behind what the girl had so offhandedly termed a ‘minor argument’ – the slight girl had done the same thing to the redhead.
    She slowly attempts to repair her damaged reputation, but her former friend is unceasing and thorough in her vengeance. The girl’s every act is now criticised and scorned; ridicule that is advertised for all to see on that subtle medium, the Internet. She begins to notice other students halting their conversations as she passes, only to resume their gossiping as soon as they think the girl cannot hear. Nothing is ever said aloud about the growing void between the girl and her classmates, but as that old adage says, ‘actions speak louder than words.’
    Resigned, the girl once again withdraws into solitude. Her teachers – unaware of the harsh reality – do not understand how she can cope without a clique; they have never before been presented with a teenage girl who shuns the company of others. They constantly question the girl, trying to get a glimpse of the true person behind the projected mask of stone and solitude. She evades their concerns easily, feigning effervescent answers; answers that weave a false persona – an alter ego of contentment and friendliness, a simulacrum born to be a shield against the cruel world of the all-girl high school.

    ~.~.~.~


    Over many months that follow, the girl’s solitude gradually transforms from unnerving into mere fact - she keeps away from her fellow students, and they reply in kind. However, her isolation is lessened somewhat by befriending the redhead, an act that surprises most - even herself. Together, the two come to depend more and more on each other, weathering their former friend’s simmering fury with the help of a third; an angel-faced Chinese girl who has mercifully been spared their pain.
    However, while each of her companions has a clique of their own to fall back on - the redhead eventually finding her place with some musically-inclined students, while the angel-faced girl has always been in the same group as the other Asian – the girl has no none; thus she retains the moniker of loner.
    The start of tenth grade heralds the resolution of a new beginning for the trio. They hope that the long summer break has given the vengeful girl time to disperse her anger, and that this year will be better than their last two. But the ascension to senior high does not lessen the wrath of the petite girl; it only makes her more subtle in her tactics.
    This becomes plain as the girl and her redheaded friend are dealt a cruel hand on the day of their annual swimming carnival. Being an optional event for seniors, the Chinese girl is the only one of the trio who attends – the other two take the day off, as neither copes well with heat and there is little shade at the poolside.
    In the days that follow, principals will be contacted, students questioned, and meetings organized that ultimately result in the suspension of the angel-faced girl, much to the horror of her traditional Chinese parents. Ironically, no action is taken against the petite Asian, as she has left no firm proof of involvement, though she is forced to watch her step as students report seeing the two Asian girls talking – or making plans – together during most of the carnival.
    Their trio downgraded to a duo, the redhead suggests they amalgamate with her fallback group. An easy solution, but for the already-fragile girl, it is not as simple: the angel-faced girl’s betrayal is the last crack in her psychological shell – the one that makes it break into a thousand pieces.
    Her mental state in tatters, the girl cannot bear to face her former friends; between the two of them, they are in nearly all her classes. Furthermore, she does not want the attention that she knows – via her redheaded friend – will be awaiting her the minute she walks through the gates.
    So the girl simply refuses to go back.

    ~.~.~.~


    Although she makes friends at her new school quicker than any other she attended, the girl is now far more wary – she only befriends those she believes she can truly trust. The less people she calls friends, the less chance she has of a friend turning on her, or so say the mental scars she carries; the everlasting reminders of betrayed friendships.
    The girl still gets occasional exasperated accusations of being distant and antisocial, but by now, more than two years later, she is well used to these remarks – she loves the silence, the peace of being alone; when there is nobody around, she can be her true self without fear of judgement. Fortunately, her new friends are quick to understand this, and never deign to begrudge her the space she needs.
    It is interesting how the girl now remembers that final week; pervaded with an acute sense of detachment, she recalls it – for all it’s repercussions – as if it were nothing more than a scary movie or nightmare.
    Despite the inner scars, the girl has changed so much these last two years - her fashion style, her hair colour, even her name – all to put those events firmly in the past where they belong; to cast off her lonely, solitary caterpillar past, and become the butterfly she was meant to be.