No matter what I’ve gone through in my life, I’ve always known I mattered. When Rex and Melody looked at me with concern or bandaged my scrapes, I knew I mattered. When I came home and found out how hard Mom and Dad looked for me and saw that my old room never changed and found all the old newspaper interviews online, I discovered I was important to them too. Does he feel the same? What’s wrong with me that I can’t return the love I get? That I can’t understand it when so many people long to receive a little of it? My throat tightens, almost like a fist squeezing me. His mother tries to kill herself yet mine fought for me, still fights for me, and I ignore her. Maddox is as closed off as I am, yet he’s given some of himself to me. He’s given me way more than I’ve shared with him. He covered for me today when he didn’t have to. And I feel… normal when I’m with him. It doesn’t matter that I’m the tattooed, pierced chick with the bad mouth. I’m just Bee. That means something to me.
