Yesterday night, my mom called me, telling me that she saw my former best friend at my dad\’s company party, after much time of separation. She was working there in the QA department.

My former best friend Julie and I met in middle school in the advanced math class. She and I were one of the top students–competitors. We became friends out of…a purpose. Both being outcasts, we bonded. Both first generation Cantonese kids in the states. Over time though, I am not sure why but I began to dislike her. She was constantly afraid of being kidnapped–a fear that should have disappeared when we were 9 years old. Julie gave me best friend necklaces–both halves–I never wore them. She worried a lot about grades while I drifted along in school trying my best but never my hardest. I was a slacker. She was secretive about her past. Her family, perhaps she encouraged it, was incredibly protective of her. When I invited her to my house, she would always come with her entire family. I saw her as weak and insecure, perhaps a reflection of myself at the time.

We both got into Berkeley, both spring admits. Somehow, unofficially we were no longer friends. She was in the molecular science biology program, trying to go into med school. I was drifting along (again) on the computer science track, thinking that I could get a whiff of the dot-com era. I sporadically saw her, occasionally saying hi but never exchanging much information. Julie lived at home with her parents, afraid to move out. I last saw her when I was going to a class during my third year. She looked optimistic as usual and gave a cheery hi. I returned the greeting and that was it.

My mom told me that Julie didn\’t make it med school. She tried several times, but failed. At the company party, Julie had brought her mom along. I felt sorry for her, growing past my misgivings of my younger self. Best friends are like that, aren\’t they?