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“That’d be like closing my eyes and putting the entire family trust on red. It’s not a chance I’m willing to take.”
* * *
I takemy spot in the back corner of the room. My eyes land on my target, who’s presently sitting halfway down the lecture hall. She has her air pods plugged in.
What are you listening to, Little Bee?
It takes me seconds to power on my laptop and hack into her MacBook. I open her Spotify playlist and pop in my earbuds. “Yellow Flicker Beat” by Lorde fills the silence. I take in the lyrics. It sounds like the kind of song a chick would listen to when they’re either pissed off with the world, or they’ve been hurt. If it’s the latter, I can’t wait to find out who the fuck’s been added to my hit list. I won’t allow anyone to hurt her. Fuck, I’m not even letting myself inflict that pain, no matter how much I want to.
As I stare at her profile, I can’t help but notice how different she looks. Like she’s torn between what to do. Her phone is in her hand and she’s tapping at the keys. I watch as her shoulders sag right at the same time my phone vibrates in my pocket.
I dig it out and see her name on my screen. I open her message.
Bee:
Do you ever feel trapped in your own skin?
I read her question over and over again. What the fuck is going through her head? And why is she feeling like she’s trapped?
Me:
Always. Trapped by expectations, trapped by lineage, trapped in my own head.
Bee:
I wonder why it all matters? In the end, we all die anyway, right?
An image of her lifeless body flashes in my mind. It doesn’t give me the hard-on it used to. The thought of her no longer living makes me feel something strange, something I’ve never felt before…
Me:
You matter.
I leave off the “to me” part of the sentence. I just can’t bring myself to add it.
Bee:
Why?
Why does she matter? It’s a question I’ve been asking myself a lot. Why her? What is it about her that I can’t seem to walk away from? I don’t have the answers to any of those questions.
Me:
Because…
Me:
When you walk into a room, it lights up. When you smile, the world is a better place. You matter because you are you. There doesn’t need to be a reason. You matter because I fucking say you do.
Bee:
Mmm, that would mean something if I knew who you were. You’re some random, obsessed stranger. I’m not even sure why I’m talking to you.
Me:
Because you know no matter where or when, I’ll always listen. Shouldn’t you be taking study notes or something?
That has her head looking up and searching the room. Her eyes brush straight past me. I guess I’ve mastered the art of being seen and not seen at the same time.
