Chapter 37Someone once told me, you’d have to be a retard to know what you love doing, and what you’re good at, and not do it.
What was I good at?
I was good at my artwork, and I promised myself I’d keep doing it, do something every single day until I got a show at the same museum that had turned me away when I failed my pee test. Maybe by then I’d know who I was. Really know. Maybe by then I’d be able to kiss Ray or someone like him again, and truly feel something.
But that was a selfish goal, and I wanted more. I wanted to help, the way Badger had arguably helped, even if his altruism had been little more than a side effect of his greater mission to punish.
I didn’t want to punish people, no matter the outcome. I didn’t want to be Badger. As bold as he’d made me, I couldn’t ever be h
