It would have sounded extraordinary, had I been able to tell someone five years ago that yesterday afternoon Lo and I would be meeting up for a coffee and a chat, a giggle over cake and a reluctant goodbye. Back in year seven, there were few kids on the playground who clashed more frequently or more fiercely than we did.
You can probably factor it down to a case of repelling magnets. We were far too alike; both headstrong, both defensive, both battling for the top spot in every class. In the end, nobody won. Those turbulent friendship groups of lower school resolved. And when the dust settled we found ourselves surrounded by the same people, and realised that our similarities would have to be put aside.
In the years that followed we found some differences to cling on to; the most obvious being her love for maths and my hatred for anything with numbers. We both loved English, and hated PE; but while she played the trumpet for an hour a week, I could be found on the piano in the music room every lunchtime.
I love her to bits. She is one of the funniest, bravest, most talented, and most intelligent people I know. Now we’ve ended up at different schools, and our subject choices could be more dissimilar: her maths, further maths, physics, chemistry, and geography to my English literature, music, politics, and French. Our paths are polarised; and yet I miss her like an arm or a leg.
Here’s to mochas and chocolate cake more often, Lo, and hours reminiscing about the old days, and the times to come.