I first saw you at the desk that I was going to share with you for the next two amazing years at our incredible high school. On that September day, I was excited and scared about all the unknown things that were yet to come but I tried to keep my cool as much as I could. The only familiar face at that point was our teacher’s, but very soon, sitting next to you, I felt that you were friendly, as if you were eager to get to know me. I think we became friends as soon as we started talking. How could we not because as you later told me, you recognized me the moment I entered the classroom because you had seen me in a dream before. So, when I took a seat next to you, you knew right away that we would become very good friends.

You became my rock in this new place, and in a matter of just a few days we were inseparable like Siamese twins. Although you excelled in most subjects, especially English (oh, I was in awe of how fluently you spoke and how seemingly effortless it all was for you), I turned to you mostly for emotional support and inspiration, rather than help with homework. I still can’t quite comprehend how we managed to talk for hours and hours on end, both in person – in class and during breaks – and on the phone almost every night. My parents must have been really unhappy about the growing phone bills, but I couldn’t help myself because I had found someone who got me so well that, despite not sharing all of my interests, tolerated me with my unwavering love for The X Files, romantic novels, foreign pop singers, and boy bands. However, we did share a love for learning and a unique sense of humor, and most importantly, we just enjoyed each other’s company. We also knew all too well what it meant when no one really cared about our birthdays; being born almost a year apart, both in late December, we had witnessed our friends focusing more on the upcoming New Year’s than celebrating our birthdays. So, in our final year of school, we joined forces and had an unforgettable birthday party with a bunch of our friends just two days before the biggest Russian holiday. It was fun for both of us to be celebrated that way.

During those two years in high school, we went through thick and thin together: there was a lot of studying, laughing and crying, eating desserts at our favorite café, sharing stories of sleepless school nights spent writing essays in Russian or English or attempting to memorize math, chemical or physics formulas that seemed incomprehensible to us, exchanging thoughts on movies, sharing our own romantic stories and dreams. And countless jokes told and laughed at uncontrollably.

Sometime during the winter of our second and final year of high school, you pulled off such an incredible psychological prank on me that I still mentally applaud you for it today. I don’t think it was intentional, though, you just went along and played off my reactions. Here’s how it happened.

Everything started with a phrase you said almost dismissively, “We’re going to your place after school anyway.” I must have raised my eyebrows in surprise and responded, “We haven’t discussed it yet, but sure, let’s go, it’ll be fun.” You were equally surprised and said, “But we did talk about it, yesterday.” Since we lived very far from each other, about an hour bus ride through town, these kinds of trips hardly ever happened spontaneously and always took a while to arrange. So, naturally, I replied, “No, we didn’t. I’d remember.” That’s when you unabashedly got carried away, “We did, at my place.” My eyes and internal doubts grew bigger by the second. I exclaimed, “Your place?! I’d definitely remember if we had gone to your place after school yesterday. But I don’t remember because it never happened. I went straight home, did my homework and then we talked on the phone as usual. That’s all.” You kept insisting, providing some bulletproof evidence that sounded more and more plausible, while I, though initially convinced that nothing of the sort had happened, felt like I was quickly losing my mind… Ten minutes later, when the next class began, you still hadn’t cracked even a tiny smile, leaving me puzzled and confused. The best part about it all was that you never told me the truth, though I assure you I knew then and know now for a fact that there was nothing wrong with my memory. (You may try and convince me otherwise – again! – but I’m not going to give in this time.=))

As a teenager and then young adult, I always needed just one truly close friend in my life as it brought me emotional comfort and a sense of security, even invincibility, in any extrovert-oriented (aka social) setting. So, when you left after school to study at a university in another city and did it with such seemingly carefree ease, it broke my heart more than the recent romantic breakup. It meant that I was left alone in my day-to-day life, which was truly unbearable for my younger self. While I did have other good friends, I didn’t have the same quality of connection with them. It also meant I had to adapt to everything on my own, and that was really difficult, but it became an important life lesson, of course.

Although we used to be very close friends, you’ve always been a mystery to me. While you were honest and open, it felt like you held back more than I did. And again, it often discouraged and hurt me, being someone who values close friendships. However, after all these years, it doesn't really matter anymore. What’s important is that you were there for me in high school, sharing the experience of the craziest two years of our lives, and that, as you used to say, will stay with us “for all lifetimes.”

What a yummy-looking apple! I exclaimed to myself as I was browsing through a grocery store to buy some food for our 30-hour train ride back home. Little did I know at that moment that the fruit would play a pivotal role in the future events of my life. But I’m getting ahead of myself so let’s rewind to about a week before.

In late October of that year, I was extremely excited about two things. One was going on a school trip to the cultural capital of our country with my friends and schoolmates (supervised and accompanied by two awesome teachers, of course). And the other was getting Aguilera’s brand new album, which promised to be more sincere and provocative than her first one. I couldn’t wait for both of these things to happen. So, as soon as I spotted the album in a music store, I purchased it and spent my days and nights listening to it on my Walkman (yes, it was THAT long ago: I had a portable CD player with wired earphones but no mobile phone yet, LOL). And a couple of days later, we boarded the train, marking the beginning of the best journey of our high school years.

Although our group was quite small – just under 20 people – I didn’t know everyone at first, because about a third of us were boys from a class we hardly ever crossed paths with in the school halls before, or after. However, the train ride was quite long, so we soon learned everyone’s names. Despite this, we still stuck to our usual circle of friends, laughing hysterically, cracking joke after joke, and enjoying the time away from our parents.=) Juice and chocolate were basically all we sustained ourselves on; I have no idea how or why nobody ended up with the most severe stomach ache.

We arrived safely in the city and checked into the student dormitory. When we weren’t going on the pre-arranged tours, which were delightful and interesting, we explored the nearby streets, bridges, shops, and cathedrals on our own, while enjoying juice and soda, eating chocolate, laughing, talking, taking photos, and listening to music. I loved the Stripped album so much that it was playing on my CD player non-stop, and when it wasn’t, the melodies and lyrics kept playing in my head. One song caught my attention more than the others. I had to look up the translation of its title because it was a completely new word for me. When I understood its meaning, the lyrics made so much more sense and even brought a new level of appreciation for the song. But not only that. I felt like the song was written for me and about me (as all teenage girls do, apparently=)), because this curiosity and attraction had truly taken me by surprise, and I was being carried away by this new, unfamiliar thing that suddenly had a name, “infatuation”.