But when Kid looks at me the way she does, as though she’s rubbed off the tattoos, pulled away the layers of skin, muscle and bone, and sees right into the very atoms of me, I begin to believe I’m more. I begin to believe that I’m capable of being more than a victim, more than an assailant, a criminal, a bully, a fucking monster. I can be Dax. I can be her Dark Angel. I can be the boy she loved.
