It had been a rough year, he said. “The shooting made the country aware of the unexpected level of hate and rage that had been hidden in high schools.” But he was convinced the world was inherently good at heart. He had spent the year thinking about what had gotten him across the library floor. At first he assumed hope—not quite; it was trust. “When I fell out the window, I knew somebody would catch me,” he said. “That’s what I need to tell you: that I knew the loving world was there all the time.”
