It was my first day at a new school and already I was sent to the Principal's office.

I'd been sitting in the cafeteria with a group of girls. "With" is a relative term--I was more sitting outside the group and hoping they'd ask me to be their friend. That's how things seemed to work in elementary school so far. Anyway, they were playing a little game.

What I thought was happening in the game: the girls slowly push a milk carton toward the girl sitting opposite them, seeing how close to the edge of the table they can get it without spilling.

What was actually happening in the game: the girls push their milk toward Cindy, who's lactose-intolerant, just to gross her out.

Without saying anything, I started to join in. I pushed my carton toward Cindy. It spilled all over her. Of course, mine had to be chocolate milk. Of course, she had to be wearing white. She told the teacher I did it on purpose, all the girls thought I was a bitch and I received a warning from the Principal.

A few weeks later, someone pointed out to Cindy and me that we both had on the exact same Nickelodeon-brand sneakers. We became inseparable for the next couple of years. Memories of that time in Maine include: pretending to be Spice Girls, playing Duke Nukem, prank-calling a water bed company, her mom's VHS copy of BASIC INSTINCT, a major crush on Keanu Reeves and candy cigarettes.