We had finished our first year of college and were enjoying the holidays. A few birthdays and girly catch-ups here and there. My younger sibling was admitted to hospital for the last 2 months of summer. I didn’t feel as supported by the girls as I usually did. I felt that they didn’t understand how serious the situation was, and not realising that I was travelling an hour each way to the hospital for every day of the hospitalisation. But nevertheless summer passed, my sibling regained near to perfect health and college restarted.

University panic had set in over the summer. The careers office was the main talk of the canteen, along with personal statements and choices. It was the second week back when it happened.

For all the dramatic effect, it really wasn’t exciting or mature. It was and still is almost hysterically funny. Funny, stupid and anal. Which I guess must sum up a lot of friendships of the so called ‘fairer’ sex. I rushed to the careers office immediately after class, leaving behind two of the girls in order to finalise registration of my university course application. Not long after I received a call from She who shan’t be named, who quirkily asked if I was OK. I explained the situation, and she explained that she and the other girls had taken offence as I had rushed off and seemingly avoided having lunch with them- a daily, unitary routine however not without causing minor disagreements in the past when more timid members of the group were left by themselves as others, i.e. She who shan’t be named and Bubble had rushed off. Nonetheless I denied avoiding the girls, reiterating the importance of going to the careers office. Problem solved?

No. Later that day, after being largely cold shouldered by the girls in lessons, I left college to find -shock horror!- the 7 girls walking home together without me. I was miffed as it smacked of double standards. Again in a rush I walked past and went on my way alone. By the time I had gotten home the texts had escalated into full war with girls flinging accusations left right and centre. She who shan’t be named even accused me of being jealous of the ‘special bond’ between her and Bubble. Right. My closest friend, and most emotionally sensitive and timid, accepted my explanation seemingly without much fuss. But things weren’t right. I was annoyed at being bombarded with accusations from girls who quite frankly were not particularly involved in the fiasco. I was more than annoyed, angry and shocked and really quite repulsed by She who shan’t be named’s claims of jealousy- I mean they were all my friends and it had only occurred to me and others that she, She who shan’t be named, was at the heart of a lot of resentment and bullying within the group. She had the art of perception down to a tee.

To most outsiders and indeed insiders she appeared to be a quite girl, of average intelligence and quite sweet and naive. She stressed her skinniness and used ‘fatty’ as a term of endearment for larger members of the group far too regularly for my liking. In the words of my closest friend she wanted to be the group’s little sweetheart or princess who needed to be protected from the ugly gritty nature of the world. Yet she was proud of having a boyfriend and rubbed the other girls’ faces in it. She would claim not to know of adult things yet she was seen doing such adult things as I later found out! She was racially abusive to outsiders and indirectly so to the girls by placing an over inflated importance on who was ‘whiter’, with jokes towards the palest but it was clear to all she, an asian girl, was envious. As a person of mixed heritage I felt stung when she advised me not to sit in the sun as not to catch a tan.

The emotional bullying from She who shan’t be named had already reared its ugly head a couple of months prior to my exile. The most timid girl in the group, my closest friend, had broken down in tears much to my surprise because I had just assumed exam stress was the main culprit of her suddenly withdrawn nature. But no, She who shan’t be named was summoned to the theatre of all dramatic social events -the toilet- in order for the matter to be reconciled. And so it was then that the group learnt of the secret feud initiated by She who shan’t be named, let us not forget her facade of humble sweetness, who had (again I am drawing on the words of closest friend) turned into an ice queen on the premise of closest friend being supposedly ‘off’ with her. What this really meant I now believe is that She who shan’t be named realised how integral a part of the group closest friend was and felt miffed that despite friendship she was not a preferred best friend of closest friend. The showdown lasted a few days- for the duration of which I was honestly shocked to hear suddenly from closest friend of the true, hidden nature of She who shan’t be named. I offered advice for I abhorred facadery, bitchiness and to hear of how closest friend was being to feel. I didn’t play role of peacemaker because I was out of my depth with the frosty side of She who shan’t be named previously unknown to me. Instead I was the shoulder to cry on, advisor and best friend.

I believe that whilst closest friend and She who shan’t be named patched up, I remained shocked at the person I had glimpsed at during the debacle. I also believe that after the showdown closest friend lost something. She appeared more frequently following up the lead of She who shan’t be named and Bubble. She appeared eager to fit in, clingy and needy even. Over time I had come to believe that some of the advice I had given to closest friend, whom I had just wanted to be happy, was mentioned to She who shan’t be named on their return to friendship. I always try to be diplomatic with advice, offering different explanations and possibilities. My advice was littered with ‘if’, offering mostly that if this side of She who shan’t be named was as closest friend had me believe, and if she continued to be this way… and of course this was probably misconstrued.

I seem to have fallen by the wayside a little, and off course to the main events.