My best friend for the past six years handed me a note and frowned slightly. She strolled off with two other girls while I packed up my backpack. I sat at the kitchen table reading and re-reading the note in confusion. It was nothing personal, but I was too needy, and she simply didn't want to be friends with me anymore. She hoped there wouldn't be any hard feelings. I ripped the tarnished half-heart inscribed BFF from my neck and tossed it into a murky pond on the way home and tried to figure out how I could possibly be needy.