I followed him.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
I sat on the edge of his bed.
“Evan.”
He stared at the floor.
Then said:
“Do you think people can tell when someone doesn’t matter?”
My heart broke.
“You matter.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
He wiped his eyes quickly.
“I mean at school.”
I didn’t know what to say.
Sometimes parents want so badly to fix a child’s pain that we reach for the wrong words.
“They’ll regret overlooking you.”
“High school doesn’t matter.”
“You’ll meet better people later.”
All of that was probably true.
None of it helped an eighteen-year-old who had to walk back into that building the next morning.
There was one person who did seem to understand him.
Mrs. Carter.
The guidance counselor.
She noticed when Evan stopped signing up for activities.
She noticed when he stopped talking about college.
She called him into her office one afternoon and asked:
