The Red String Theory and the Role Fate Plays in our Connections: The Story of How My Best Friend and I Met Twice

“Wasn’t friendship its own miracle, the finding of another person who made the entire lonely world seem somehow less lonely?” —Hanya Yanagihara, A Little Life

It all started when I went to Brazil for the first time in June 2017. My dad had recently been promoted which meant that we’d have to move to another country again and this time, it was a country that I didn’t think would bear any resemblance to my own. My little sister and I were walking around São Paulo with my parents when they revealed to us that we weren’t just coming to Brazil for tourism but that we’d be moving there next year. I was surprised to say the least. They told us we’d be here for a year and that we’d go back to Turkey, my home country, after that— something we had been hearing for the past 3 years only to be disappointed every time.

Almost immediately, we started researching schools that would take us in without making us repeat the year despite our incompatible education system. There was always something wrong, either the school, which was always private, was religious, too expensive or outright did not accept students without a background in their specific system. However, despite this, we still managed to find a small batch of schools that would accept us and were in our budget (at this point the idea of a secular school had gone out the window).

After numerous campus visits, we ended up in the campus of School A where I accidentally bumped into a random boy who disappeared before I could even apologize. I simply shrugged and continued with my visit. Soon after, we left campus to visit Schools C and D both of which were way out of our budget.

After long deliberation, we had decided to go to School A, a small catholic school that followed the American curriculum and offered an IB diploma program. My mom had completed our registration and was about to pay the tuition fee when we got notice that two spots had become available at School B, a secular school that followed the British curriculum and also offered the same diploma program. The choice was easy, my mom cancelled our registration in School A and immediately started the enrollment process in School B and I thought that it was that.

Almost two years later in late 2018 to early 2019, while I was in art class, a boy sat next to me. He took out a piece of A3 paper and rummaged around his backpack to find a pencil. I thought I recognized him from somewhere but figured it must be my mind playing tricks on me. I silently passed him a pencil and continued sketching. The next week was the same, I had put my headphones on and was sketching, my reference open in my computer when I felt a tap on my shoulder. “Excuse me, do you watch anime?”

I turned around, it was the boy from the week before, a gave him a timid smile and nodded he had seen the manga panel I was using as a Home Screen. I took my headphones off and asked him which one his favorite was and we started talking. It was one of those heavenly classes where you just sat around talking and not doing anything. At the end of the class, he asked me my name and I gave it to him then learned his, he stopped to think for a moment then shook his head as if he had changed his mind about saying something.

The next week we had Spanish class together and that was the first time he had seen my name written down. Given that my name is in turkish, people pronounce it very differently when they see it written down than when they hear the proper pronunciation. “Wait a second are you (a wrong pronunciation of my name)”

“Yeah, but it’s pronounced (my name)”.

“Bro, we waited for you at School A!! You had a cubby and everything, we were so excited to get a new student!”

I was shocked, the idea that someone from School A had transferred to School B and that they would know of me was so completely ridiculous that it made me believe in fate, especially since it had been nearly two years and our schools didn’t interact with each other at all. We became fast friends, doing every group projet together, going out all the time, and even celebrating our birthdays, which were one day appart, together. We were known around our school as a package deal and after a certain spanish project incident, we weren’t allowed to team up together. Our assignment was to design a dream house, my friend and I had designed two beautiful villas in the woods with a view on the ocean and a corridor that linked our houses together. We had so much fun designing it that we couldn’t stop laughing throughout the class. When it was our turn to present, our innocent giggles turned into bursts of laughter that rendered us unable to continue presenting. Our teacher refused to put us together after that.

Then, the year was over and my father got the news that we’d be going back to Turkey, only for his employer to change his mind as Covid hit and during that time, my best friend changed schools but this didn’t affect how often we saw each other.

A few years later, it was time for university applications. I had no idea what I wanted to do, I had always been passionate about several things at a time and wanted to follow in my grandfather’s footsteps by becoming an author, without much support from my parents. My mom, having grown up with an author for a father, knew how hard being successful in the field was. Meanwhile my father was the type of person who thought that only three majors were acceptable: medicine, law, and engineering.

I decided to apply to both law and political science majors. My dad’s dream for me was to study in Canada, despite me hating the cold weather and not wanting to be this far from Turkey, he convinced me to apply and I (thankfully) got rejected. My mom on the other hand, wanted me to go to France, she’s half french and is very attached to that side of her culture, she wanted me to see France as a “second home” and thought studying there was the only way. My father was completely against this, growing up he always told us that despite us speaking french and having the nationality, the french would never see my sister and I as such. I wanted to study political science in Amsterdam up until the point I realised law was what I truly wanted to do and chose to study in a parisian university on a whim. I kept that decision to myself until late July.

At the same time, my friend was also hesitating in what he wanted to study, being unsure of what he wanted to do but knowing that hospitality was one of his passions, he applied to several majors relating to hospitality all around the world. Then, one day, I received a phone call from him. “C, I’m going to apply to pastry school in France, the language exam is in three months, can you teach me?” I was shocked but elated at the same time. The possibility of studying in the same country as my best friend of 5 years was a dream come true, especially since we thought we’d basically never see each other again after graduation.

I tried my best to teach him French but not having spoken the language regularly in over 8 years, I was unable to. He started taking special classes from a tutor and got to a B1 level in three months, then was accepted on an excellency scholarship to the pastry school he wanted. I had gotten accepted into a law school in his city but decided to go to Paris as the university I had gotten in was better, we were both a bit sad about that but my friend agreed it was for the best.

Honestly, I’m still quite shocked that we ended up in the same country for university. Originally, going to France was my worst case scenario, I was terrified that I’d fail because I never studied in the language and I was also scared that people would be racist towards me as my father had been saying that to me my whole life, having experienced racism from the french side of my mom’s family. As for my friend, he had never mentioned pastry school, let alone France in all the years I had known him and he was also terrified of the racism he’d face, he was scared of failure and being far from his family.

And guess what: all of our fears came true. I failed my first year and had to redo it, I had many professors and students alike tell me to go back to my country, I was mocked for my accent and I was one of three turkish people in my entire university. I felt as though I had no community. As for my friend, his classmates and instructors would treat him differently because he’s indian, he’d get assigned grunt work because chefs assumed he didn’t know anything, people would make fun of his French, his classmates ostricized him constantly and he was not only the only indian in his university but the only brazilian as well. We both felt completely and utterly alone. But it was alright because we’d call everyday and when things got tough we were only a 2 hour train or 6 hour bus drive (depending on our budget) away from each other. We must’ve visited each other every month our first year in France.

Then came this year. We had both finally adapted to France, I got the news that I had passed into second year, my friend is now fluent in French and his school is finally taking steps to adress the racism international students face.

What I’m trying to say is: I’ve never really been much of a religious person, I’ve never believed in fate either, but I truly think us meeting was something that was predetermined. We are so alike in so many different ways and we just work.

I don’t know if God is real or if I managed to somehow tug at the red string so much I finally met the person at the other end of it but I am so glad that my mother enrolled me in School A before changing her mind and enrolling me in School B, I’m infinitely grateful that somehow, two people who had travelled the world before settling in São Paulo, Brazil, managed to meet again in France and will continue to do so because our lives have become intertwined with each other. I really hope everyone gets to experience the kind of friendship we have, it is such a rare and beautiful thing that I wish on every person.

© 2025 C. H. Gökdemir. All rights reserved.