On one especially stormy day, I came home from school, when straight up to my room, and threw my backpack down on my chair. Tears had begun to form in my eyes, and I could taste their salty sting. I had said some careless things to one of my friends, who didn’t like my father all that much. She had made quite a scene about it, and even started to cry. Oddly enough, I didn’t care. She was one of the people who trashed my dad, anyways. Then, as I sat on my bed, I led out a sharp whimper of despair. Nothing was the same anymore. McKenna had changed due to the difference in her social envirnoment. Many of the people at her school did some pretty, well, mature things, so she was exposed to so much more than me. And one thing I noticed about her was that she often used the expression “that’s so gay,” to express something that was unpleasant or unfavourable. Did she even remember our friendship anymore? Sure, she was kind and cool, but she wasn’t the same person. But neither was I.