STAGE: The Knowles Household

TIME: 4:25 PM

The elegant lines curving over the chandelier embellished the dining room. Geoffrey was pouring more sparkling juice into my glass as I sat at the dining table with my parents. High postures coupled with the fact that I had seen them act on nothing but well-raised table manners for all of my life, they were, for the lack of a better word, ‘strict.’ Admittedly, I had always been the odd one out, even sitting crisscross applesauce in my chair, with a poor posture at that. My spine was nowhere near as strong as my parents’. If someone from school were to see me in this state, they would quickly notice that the usual grace and elegance that I usually used in public had seemingly disappeared. It was a front, a disguise that I used in an effort not to bring shame to my family. Silverware was set upon the correct spot and sequence depending on its size. In any other household, this would be unnecessary for just fish and chips. Napkins were placed on their laps, and another tucked in their collars. Instead of a napkin, a book was set in mine. Secretly reading, I would sneak passages by ensuring the book was underneath the table and out of anyone’s peripheral vision. 

“I swear,” Mum lamented with her proper heavy dialect. “These kids don’t understand the importance of seeking higher education. Everyone believes they can just shrug off college and pursue careers as professional gamers. Oh, how those activities have become so mainstream now...” Her facial features were evident, that she and Geoffrey were siblings. Those family genes were indeed strong. 

“If I were you, I’d practice severe consequences,” Dad replied with a dignified American dialect. Notably, he did not hail from the UK like my mother and uncle. “These are the people of tomorrow we’re trying to educate. We don’t need them believing they can make a quick buck just by playing some games. Nonetheless, have them running around thinking they can do whatever the hell they want,” he added impassioned. 

“Bloody hell! Language!” Mum frowned, casting a glance at me as seen from my peripheral vision. However, Mum ignored that she just uttered “bloody hell,” thus contradicting her outburst. I was pretty sure Dad caught onto that, too, judging from his suggestive, raised eyebrow. 

“My apologies,” he apologized anyway. Good man! He knew better than to point out Mum’s mistake directly. That was an unwinnable battle that neither of us nor Geoffrey were willing to fight. “But you know where I’m coming from. It seems like the youth wants to do nothing but slack off and waste their lives.” And, of course, he turned his attention to me. “What do you think, darling?” 

“Yeah, yeah. I agree,” I cared not to pay attention to the conversation at hand, transitioning most of my attention to my book. 

“We need more people like our daughter,” he boasted, vindicated. “More people who are smart, beautiful, well-mannered—” 

“And someone who doesn’t read at the table!” Mum interjected. 

Disconcerted, I closed my book, setting it inside my sweater’s front pocket. “I’m sorry, Mum....” There was nothing I could have done to overcome my sheepish resolve. She was just too intimidating. 

“Be careful about repeating the same mistake,” Dad spilled out his typical spiel. It was apparent he did not understand either, but I had neither the nerve nor the gall to ask him to betray his wife. “It is not good for you and only shows how inferior you are. Not only that, but it also reflects on our family, casting us as inferior.” 

“I thought it was just being human....” Softly aside, I mumbled to prevent the two from hearing me. But I glanced at Mum, only to see her staring me down. The woman hears everything. 

“We should think about sending you back to private school,” even her sighs were soul-crushing, “whether it be here or back in London. Four years in this country and you have no friends your age. That Anthony boy is rather nice. Yet he’s a senior this year. Once he’s gone, who are you going to be left with? You need to be surrounded by well-mannered and disciplined people. I swear the only sensible kid at your school is Anthony.” 

“Is Anthony the shortest or tallest out of the brothers?” Dad inquired. Was he wrong for inquiring? Honestly, I have made the same mistake myself.  

“You know it’s the tall one!” Mum reminded him. How this woman remained so confident was beyond me. Yet there was a grave error that they were both making. 

“Who said I didn’t have any friends?” I sheepishly replied. They stared blankly at me, scrutinizing my every word. 

“Do you have friends?” 

“Well... only one,” more and more, I felt my resolve slipping away with every response. “This friend is more of an acquaintance and my partner for the science fair. We’ll be collaborating soon.” I was shrinking before them, feeling smaller and smaller as the fire in my mother’s eyes peered through my soul. 

“What’s this guy like?” Dad earnestly asked. “Does his parents own any companies? Any yachts?” 

“I dunno where his mum works, and as far as I know, his family doesn’t own any yachts.” 

“So, a commoner?” Disappointed, his jovial demeanor soured, and the dad I knew was creeping back in. Honestly, the poor guy was not even here, and Dad was looking down upon him. Before I could respond to defend him, my phone buzzed in my pocket. “Is that him?” Taking out my phone, I read a Facebooked message left on my notification screen. 

KIEREN: Are you down to stop by today? 

“He wants me to stop over at his place so we can work,” I foolishly explained out of nervousness. There was no thought or tact behind it. I just thought I needed to justify why my phone was out. 

“Absolutely not –” 

“Very well,” Mum unexpectedly said, interrupting Dad. His face was gutted. So was mine. Who was this lady sitting at the head of the table? And what did she do with my rather cold mother? “You may go. This might be the only friend you have. If attending public school wasn’t enough, you’re about to enter a commoner’s household. Just be cautious, okay?” 

“Yes, Mum.”

STAGE: The Freeman Household

TIME: 5:24 PM

What was it like to go to someone else’s house? Agonizing… Despite the rigorous training I had received from my schooling days, I was ill-prepared for this. My face was strong and poised as I had been instructed, but my mind and heart were absolutely shattered. There was so much pressure to not only be myself but to be honorable to my family. Honestly, it would just be easier to run away from it all. But truthfully, even the very thought was a disservice to my household. 

Meeting Kieren was like something out of a dream. There were very few things indicating that it was even real. I kept thinking that I would wake up and step away from my telescope, entering back into the cold home I had known all too well. But sometimes dreams could be reality, too, I guess… I chose to wear a mix of formal yet casual attire. I believed my school khakis and a non-polo pink shirt underneath my United Kingdom sweater were good enough. So, I rode my bike to the address Kieren sent me. It was not that bad of a ride. It took me half the time it took to get to school.

Once arriving, I laid my bike on the front lawn, then ran under the shelter of the suburban household. Pressing the doorbell caused a faint jingle to ring throughout the house. Now all I had to do was wait. Waiting was nothing new to me. I had spent my entire life waiting, patiently observing. One could say it was a hobby of mine, just being silent and watching. As I waited, I watched the house, admiring the home’s exterior. It was nothing special, not even big compared to my family’s home. But something I sincerely appreciated was its simplicity. It was modest, plain. You could tell there was no hassle to craft it. No, the people here were basically on top of each other. With such little room, one would think they would be forced to get along well here. The same went for all the other houses around it. They were tightly knitted together in this quiet suburban neighborhood. I guess that was the one thing that all houses were, quiet. What a refreshing silence… The door opened. My eyes met with that of a girl who only appeared to be a couple of years younger than I. Humbled, I held out my hand. 

“Hey, I’m Bianca,” smiling was what the situation called for, “Bianca Knowles. Please don’t wear it out,” so I stole Kieren’s introduction. It was a good introduction. I could tell the girl was disarmed by it. Yes, girl, I went through the same thing. But before the girl could fully engage my hand, out came an older woman who nonchalantly bumped her to the side. She was enthusiastic, overly so, and vigorously shook my hand. 

“Hi! I’m Kieren’s mother!” The woman was grinning ear to ear. “My name is Martha, but you can call me mother-in-law!” 

“Mom!” I hear Kieren shouting in the distance, probably in complete and utter embarrassment. I am unsure why he was; no one could be more embarrassed than me. Mother-in-law? Madame, this was not that kind of meeting. 

“Or, Mrs. Freeman works just fine,” she ruefully relented. 

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Freeman,” I put on my act. Quickly, the pride of my family was thrusted upon my shoulders, and I allowed myself to be their vessel, their perfect image of a young woman. “I had no idea where to drop off my bike, so I just—” 

Miss Martha cut me off, “Oh, that won’t be a problem at all! Come on in!” She was a lovely woman, but could she stop yanking me inside?

Through the foyer and into the living room, we passed a few moving boxes pushed against the walls. Kieren moved to my school two weeks back, so I can only assume they moved here roughly around the same time. The family still had a long way to go before finishing unpacking. Yet, the walls were filled with enough décor to make the setting feel just like any other family living room. Well… I assumed. It was novel, cozy. It only made me wonder how this family had been able to move on from such a... Hell, there was no indication that such things had even occurred. Just thinking about it made me unsure about everything. Knowing the truth combined with this setting only contradicted one from the other. Was Kieren really, ok? 

As I stepped further into the living room, Kieren was walking down the stairs. Meanwhile, I felt a slight touch at the back of my head, easily startling me. I jumped back to find the girl from earlier, who I had assumed was Kieren’s younger sister, standing behind me. 

“I like your hair,” this girl said. 

“Oh, thanks,” I responded, a little flattered. Not many people talked to me, and even fewer complimented me on anything. She was unique and special. 

“How’d you get it so curly?” 

“I don’t do anything in particular.” Unfortunately… “It’s just naturally like that.” No matter how much I tried…

“Can you stop being awkward around my new friend, Keziah?” Kieren was frustrated as he came downstairs to approach the two of us. 

“I just like her hair, is all,” Keziah sassed him back. 

Was this what it was like to have a sibling? It was a bit much for me. Nervous, I looked at Kieren briefly, then immediately faced the carpet, fidgeting with the strings of my sweater. Why was I like this? I was already brave enough to come here, and now… Oh… I could feel him staring at me, taking note of my at-edge behavior. 

“That’s because Bianca’s hair isn’t baked in all those chemicals you be using in your head,” Kieren mocked his sister. I assumed this was a veiled attempt to get me to loosen up. But really, did she use that much product? Notably, he only accomplished to make me slightly chuckle, which helped me but only further annoyed Keziah. This was all an assumption, by the way. I could only judge this by the dirty look she shot at him. 

“They’re called perms and relaxers,” Keziah nudged him aside before storming off up the stairs. I would have too. It was funny but rude as all hell. 

“Bianca, are you lactose?” Mrs. Freeman was busy in the kitchen. Judging by Kieren’s disposition, I doubt she ever came across any of his female friends… Or any friends for that matter. I must have been his only friend, a service he should greatly reward me for.

“No, ma’am,” my dialect became more proper due to the kind-natured tone taking over my voice. It was fitting. An adult should be addressed as such by a child. And yet, I think Kieren also noticed the change due to his suggestive, raised eyebrow. Was he judging me? For being respectful? It heavily reminded me of Dad’s one mannerism from dinner. It must have been an American thing. 

Mrs. Freeman entered the living room with plates of grilled cheese sandwiches akimbo. “You came to the right house!” The sight of the sandwiches seemed to calm me down for some reason. “Not many people outside our family get the chance to try my world-famous grilled cheese sandwiches,” she boasted. 

“World-famous?” I inquired.

“She likes to call it that,” Kieren rolled his eyes. 

The longer I stared at the sandwiches I became head over heels for them. If not for the smell, the presentation was breathtaking. The bread looked perfectly grilled to create that right amount of crunch, so if you were to bite into them, you would be delighted with every chomp. Even the flaking was pressed so effectively that it looked like it was the actor that played the bread on all those TV commercials about sandwiches. That was to say, it was like a dream brought to life. The cheese melted so well between each slice that I could picture cheesy strings stretching out after each bite. Even the smell, I could taste it. Was that Cheddar? Monterey Jack? Three Cheese? Velveeta? Oh, I could not tell. All my senses were going wild at once. No, I could not tell, not over the water welling in my mouth.  

I looked up at her with such wide thankful eyes. She smiled at me, possibly not understanding. But deep down, I knew she knew. “Thank you, mother-in-law,” I uncharacteristically praised. Kieren gave off another suggestively raised eyebrow as Mrs. Freeman smirked cheekily at me. Oh yeah… She definitely knew.

Despite being surrounded and feeling the warmth that this family brought, more than what I had ever felt in comparison with my own, a wave of solemnness managed to crash over me. I was reminded of the situation, the secret I had ungraciously uncovered without their knowledge. I wanted to ask. I was dying to ask and understand. I wanted to be there for Kieren because I could tell he was hurting. Anyone would feel lost if such things happened to them. But as much as I was tempted to do so, I understood that it was not my place, not yet. So, I stomached the gnawing thoughts and reverted to my timid nature from earlier.