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| Bastions of Internet knowledge. |
When I was young'in, I attended 4 different high schools before graduating. In the states, high school is 4 years of study and jumping schools isn't the norm. The first school was an arts school that combined junior high with the first year of high school (7th through 9th grade). The second school was the local high school I was assigned to by location (10th grade), and the third was a brand new high school built to manage overcrowding that my district re-assigned me and half my classmates to (11th and 12th grade). In this shuffling about, I managed to miss a required math class and found myself in my last term of my senior year missing a credit that I would need to graduate come Spring with the rest of my classmates.
In came high school number four: a night school that offered the missed class I needed that I would attend after my regular full day of classes. The night school was alternative schooling for an eclectic mix of students who didn't fit the traditional mold; young mothers, working students, students who were not up to speed for their grade level, older students, students who spoke English as a second language (like the French-Arabic guy who I would sometimes make-out with in the parking lot, but that's another story), and students who missed a class (like me).
One night I made it class a little bit early and took a seat next to two friendly looking girls. We started talking. They were younger than me, both around 15. Let's call them Girl A and Girl B. What followed was an encounter that I still think about, years later.
"He called me again last night," Girl A said to Girl B.
"For real?" Girl B replied.
"Yeah, he says he's really into me," Girl A said.
Girl B looked at me and excitedly said, "She knows the Backstreet Boys."
My reaction was naturally skeptical. "How?" I asked.
"I know a girl who knows them," Girl A explained. "She gave them my number and we talk."
"But, how do you know it's them?" I said.
"I talk to Kevin. He knows things only the Backstreet Boys would know," Girl A earnestly replied.
But, how would
you know what only
they would know? I wanted to ask, but stopped myself. I weighed the possibility that this was a stupid joke. A really stupid joke. Or was it possible that Kevin was actually calling this girl every night? That would be some serious dedication to the fans, or worth a call to the police, since 15-year-old girls are underage and Kevin was grown man. But after listening to her talk a few more minutes it was obviously not the case. Too many details didn't add up. Could this girl really believe that the Backstreet Boys, who were at the height of their late '90s popularity, would be calling a 15-year-old girl they've never met before just to chat for hours?
