After fifth grade, I switch to a new sixth- to twelfth-grade school. This school doesn’t have an associated elementary, so it takes students from many different schools. That means most of us know few to none of our new classmates.

In the summer before we start, the school arranges pool parties so the students can get to know each other. Students are assigned alphabetically to a party. My portion of the alphabet happens to be overwhelmingly male — there are five girls and about twenty-five boys at the party.

Of course, we’re at an age where boys and girls avoid each other because of “cooties,” so I can’t hang out with any of the boys. Three of the girls are giggling over a teen magazine, which I have no interest in, and the other girl is in the pool. The two of us spend the whole party swimming together and get along great. We promise that we’ll be great friends come September.

After leaving the party, I realize something: I don’t know her name. We had name tags, but we didn’t wear them in the pool. And since we were supposed to be wearing name tags, we never introduced ourselves. With no other option, I decide I’ll just have to remember her face.

That, of course, doesn’t happen. The pool party is at the beginning of the summer, and by the time school starts, the only thing I remember about the girl is that she was wearing a green swimsuit.

Our lockers are also assigned alphabetically, so I look around on the first day of school to try to find Green Swimsuit Girl. I strike up a quick friendship with the girl whose locker is next to mine, and for a while, I suspect she might be the Green Swimsuit Girl. However, she never mentions the pool party, so I assume it’s not her. By the end of the first week, I still haven’t found her. I assume at that point that she switched schools.

Years pass, and my locker buddy becomes my best friend. Other friends come and go, but we always stay together. Before we know it, we’re about to graduate high school. [BFF] and I are planning a trip to an amusement park after graduation, and another friend has asked to come along. Once we’ve figured out what day we can borrow [BFF]’s parents’ car, we go to tell [Friend] the details.

BFF: “Hey, [Friend]! We figured out when we’re going to [Amusement Park]. It’s [date].”

Friend: “Hold on.” *Checks calendar* “Aw, I can’t come! My mom’s making me help out with [Little Brother]’s party that day.

Me: “Didn’t he just have his birthday party last week?”

Friends: “Yeah, it’s not for his birthday. It’s one of the sixth-grade pool parties. Remember those?”

BFF: “Oh, yeah! You know, I met a girl at mine who I swore was going to be my best friend, but then I forgot her face and name. I never figured out who she was because all I remembered about her was that she was wearing a blue swimsuit. I did think it was [My Name] for a bit, but obviously, it wasn’t.”

Me: “Wait a second! You’re Green Swimsuit Girl?!”

BFF: “You’re Blue Swimsuit Girl?!”

Me: “Why didn’t you say anything?”

BFF: “I was waiting for you to say something!”

Me: “So was I!”

Friend: “Oh, my God, guys, really? This is so you.”

It turned out we’d both forgotten each other’s faces and were waiting for the other to give a sign first. At least we can say that we picked each other as best friends twice over! And as for the amusement park trip, we moved it to another day and both helped [Friend] out with her little brother’s party.

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My cousin has a very “I’m not like other girls” attitude, and she also happens to be a major know-it-all, which annoys everyone else. 

One day while she, my best friend, and I are out shopping, my best friend and I decide to duck into a boutique to look at summer dresses. My cousin is huffing and hawing the whole time, groaning about fashion and “girls who try too hard.” She’s starting to get dirty looks from other customers and sales girls alike, so I start trying to shush her. 

Cousin: “Come on! This is useless. You’ll just throw them on the floor after you meet some guy, just like all other girls do! Just accept that you’re a fashion victim!”

I try to shush her again, but this time, she’s caught the attention of the entire shop. 

Best Friend: “It’s okay; not everyone can look as good as we do!”

Several people start laughing, and my cousin blushes. 

Me: “You are not ugly, but your personality is. Grow up. You’re almost an adult.”

(In my early 20s, my best friend decides I should date her boyfriend’s roommate. We have seen each other at group gatherings, or whenever I go see my best friend at her place. I don’t think we are a good match, so I kind of just ignore the subtle pushing until my best friend decides to have a straightforward discussion about it.)

Best Friend: “Why don’t you try dating [Boyfriend’s Roommate]?

Me: “I don’t think we have anything in common, really. I don’t see us be anything, even as friends on our own I’m not sure…”

Best Friend: “Don’t say that; you both play [music instrument]!”  

Me: “Yeah, but I believe that’s where it stops. Otherwise, what hobbies does he have? Going to see strippers?”

Best Friend: “Oh, I’m sure that he’d stop going if he had a girlfriend.”

Me: “I’m not so sure about that.”

(I don’t want to start a debate about this kind of industry. I also don’t want to have to explain how starting a relationship with someone on the hope I’ll make the guy change is a terrible idea. People don’t change, seriously.)

Me: “Also, the only other thing I have seen him do or talk about is smoking weed.” *not legal at that time* “Which, you know, I’m no crusader against, but I still disapprove of recreational drug use.”

Best Friend: “You have to cut him some slack; he can’t drink alcohol.”

Me: “Well… I may drink a glass here and there, but I’m no big fan either. I just can’t see myself having to skirt around my own boyfriend whenever he’s under influence, or have me withdraw all the time for his habits.”

Best Friend: “Don’t be like that; he has some good points, too! Like, he’s still a gentleman and strives for higher education lately.”

Me: “He called me a witch when I said a three-syllable word!”

(Thankfully, she stopped there and so did the date pushing.)

(I am in the last few lingering weeks of high school and waiting for life to begin. I have a “BFF” who I love with my whole heart; we have experienced so much together over our formative years and thought we’d be besties for all our lives, be each other’s bridesmaids, have kids together, and go and be old ladies in a nursing home together. However, the last couple of weeks, I haven’t seen much of her and she’s been really weird to talk to. I’ve also had her boyfriend — another good friend of mine — on the phone to me in tears because she’s ghosting him, too. I’m working at a cinema taking tickets when who should wander up but my “BFF” and some guy from school, holding hands and giggling together. She looks up and sees me and looks furtive, but says hi and hands me the tickets. The tickets are for an 18+ movie, which she is not; nor is the guy. My mind is racing and my heart is kind of falling apart a bit.)

Me: “Um…”

BFF: *gives me a hopeful “go on” smile*

Me: “Um, I’m going to go and clean somewhere. Why don’t you go for a walk and come back in five minutes when someone else is here?”

(BFF looked surprised but said, “Okay,” and walked off, and I didn’t see them again that night. I don’t know how they bought the tickets without ID, I don’t know why they thought I was going to just smile and let them in, I don’t know why they chose to come to my cinema on a night she knew I was working, and I don’t know if this is a NAW, NAR, or NAWhat. I do know that I never really spoke to her after that — having spent the last five years speaking multiple times a day — and that she broke up with her boyfriend in the next couple of weeks — he found out about the other guy before I could tell him. When you’re a teen you think you have the world sorted out… until you don’t.)

(My best friend and I are both 25. She has been married for a year now, and I can’t remember the last time I went on a second date. She’s telling me that she and her husband both got ordained from some online group.)

Me: “You’re not going to be my maid of honor now; you’re going to be the one performing the wedding.”

Friend: “Or both! Or [Husband] can perform the wedding, since your spouse might not be close enough with him to have him as a groomsman. Or bridesman.”

Me: “Future spouse will probably be a man.”

Friend: “At this point, can you afford to be picky?”