If you’d told teenage me that one day I’d be writing a list of “friendship rules,” I’d have rolled my eyes, adjusted my studded belt, and blasted Avril Lavigne through my off-brand MP3 player. Yet here we are: grown, tired, overcaffeinated, and suddenly realising that friendships in your twenties and thirties come with more unspoken rules than a Maltese bus queue on a humid August afternoon.
