I wanted people to trust me, despite anything they'd heard. And more than that, I wanted them to know me. Not the stuff they thought they knew about me. No, the real me. I wanted them to get past the rumors. To see beyond the relationships I once had, or maybe still had but that they didn't agree with.

I tried getting my dad to buy me a beeper for my birthday,” he says, “but he thinks only doctors and drug dealers need them.

Betrayal. It's one of the worst feelings.

The longer you wait, and this is true, the slower the hands will move.

I'm listening to someone give up. Someone I knew—someone I liked. I'm listening... but still, I'm too late.

And it feels strange, almost sad, to walk through ther empty halls. Each step I take sounds so lonely.

Because it may seem like a small role now, but it matters. In the end, everything matters.