"Ellie, we should go in," Clay's voice is soft and he squeezes my hand. Tony has already left, leaving us alone in his car.

What if Bryce attacks Clay again, and I pass out again? So much for saving my reputation.

The flow of people steadily increases as the bell rings loudly, jolting me from my paranoid thoughts.

"Ok, but what if I didn't go?" I ask him, channeling my words to sound low and seductive.

"What do you mean?" He's totally innocent, but realization dawns on his face quickly.

"Oh."

I turn my face to his and bite my lip. "Thoughts?"

Clay's face is a roller coaster of emotions as he stares out the window, thinking for a moment before turning back to me.

I'm definitely into him right now, but I know that the reason I'm saying this is because I really don't want to go back to school. I also want to mess with Tony by doing it in his car.

"You're so beautiful," his voice is soothing and calm, his hands moving back up to my hair, "but I have an AP test today, and you haven't been to school in three days."

I sigh and fall back down into his lap begrudgingly, knowing that he was right.

"Fine. But you're coming over after school, my parents aren't going to be home," nudging him suggestively, I avoid looking out the window at the stream of students and turn to face him.

He smiles but his eyes hold a look of worry and a tint of sadness. Surprised, I squeeze his hand and my voice becomes a whisper.

"Hey, what's wrong?" I ask worriedly.

Does he not want to come over? Is he tired of me? Maybe I scared him off when I passed out. Fuck.

"It's nothing," Clay says sweetly, moving to kiss my forehead but I jerk away from him.

"No, Clay, tell me what's wrong," panic rises to my throat and my voice sounds much more angry than I intend for it to.

He doesn't take any offense to my tone, smiling sadly as he thinks of a response.

"It's just that, if you were okay with it, I wouldn't mind meeting your parents. We've been going out for long enough, I think. I mean- I've never really had a girlfriend so I don't know the customs, um, is that normal?" He starts to stutter nervously, avoiding my prying eyes.

We've only been going out for a week, and my parents still don't even know that I broke up with Justin yet. I can't tell them we split, they loved him.

What will they think of Clay? He's really smart, but overwhelmingly nerdy. And what will they think of me, moving on from one boy to the next?

His eyebrows furrow in unconcealed anxiety as I stay silent, my thoughts churning in my head.

"I'm fine with meeting your parents. I think we're ready for that. It's just mine are really strict and I'm worried they might put everything together, how I haven't slept in my own house in a week."

I didn't technically lie, but I know that I'm holding the truth back from him.

Forcing my look to soften, I snuggle deeper into his chest while keeping eye contact. Clay's eyes hold mine for a second, and he watches them unfold into a calm reassurance before he smiles.

"I totally understand that. You can meet my parents if you're free for dinner, just know that my Mom is a lawyer so don't let her question you too much," he says excitedly, his nervous stutter disappearing as the anxiety leaves his eyes.

The second bell rings from the school, interrupting me before I could even speak.

Clay's eyes widen and he gently slides out from underneath me. I groan forlornly as he opens the door to get out.

He smiles at my protest and kisses me, creating loud whispers from onlooking students.

"You should get to class, Ellie," he reaches out his hand to pull me out of the car. I let him, stumbling to my feet and throwing his backpack to him from the backseat of Tony's car.

"Fine," I pout, swinging my backpack over my aching shoulder and jogging to the front steps with Clay by my side.

Ignoring the surrounding whispers, I touch his hand briefly and whisper a goodbye as he turns down the hallway, leaving me by myself in the crowd of students.

I make the decision to not attend class, crediting my aching body and making the journey over to the nurse's office.

"What can I do for you, sweetheart?" Mrs. Ritter asks me as she folds blankets over her desk.

She's a petite woman, the same height as me and hunched over from old age. Her wispy white hair gives her a sweet and fragile appearance.

I've known her since I was a freshman, and complained to her about every single piece of drama I had. At this point, she would let me do anything.

Smiling at her, I ignore how I'm in yesterday's clothes and the tenderness in my bones. "I think I just need to lay down for a little bit."

She turns to me, ready to ask the question I've heard thousands of times.

"Yes, everything's fine at home," I interrupt her, "I just stayed up all night doing my homework." I can hear the stiff pain in my voice but try not to make it noticeable.

"Of course, dear, you know where the beds are," she grins, gazing at me sweetly before resuming work.

Thanking her, I turn into the closed-off room and throw my backpack onto an empty bed.

The squeak of a high-pitched yelp sounds from where my bag landed and I hold back a scream of surprise.

"What the fuck dude!" A shaky female voice exclaims from the bed, throwing the blanket down in anger.

Jessica Davies's agitated glare greets me, her almond eyes swollen and puffy. Her face is contorted with anger and exhaustion. My eyes glance over her face, her skin washed out and pale, and my heart hurts when I remember why.

Bryce.

She and I have been always really close friends, but she hasn't spoken to me since the tapes were let out. I thought that she was angry with me for liking Clay, or since I killed Hannah Baker. I was friends with her at the time they were fighting.

Rumors had spread around the school that Jess was the girl that Hannah saw being raped, but I refused to ask her about it. I knew from experience that she would be in denial, and asking her would only make her feel worse.

Still, my heart yearns to comfort her as she lays on the bed, broken and fragile as glass.

"I'm sorry, man. I didn't see you," I say softly, trying to convey that I meant no harm.

Her voice sounds tough and mean, but I know she's very fragile after everything that has happened.

"Sorry, Elle, didn't know it was you," she whispers and sinks into the pillows as I gently remove the backpack of her.

Her voice has faded into a quiet, friendly tone and I smile as I adjust myself on my own bed across the room. I push myself into the covers of the uncomfortable bed, fidgeting around.

"It's alright. So why are you here. Did you get sick or something?" I want to help her, but don't even know where to begin.

"No," she states abruptly, and I turn to face her with a look of surprise. "I've just- nevermind," Her tone is sad and broken-hearted, and she turns away from the conversation with a crestfallen face.

Jess looks so small and shattered, curled up into a ball with the covers over her face, shielding her from the world.

Everything inside me want to reach out to her. I'm aching to jump off my bed and run over to her, wrap her in the biggest hug, and let her cry into my shoulder.

I want to hold her like I wish someone had been there to do for me the night that Bryce had ruined me. I can't decide whether the tears forming in my eyes are for her sake or mine, but I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep them from pouring down my face.

A moment of silence fills the room.

"Jess," I whisper carefully, waiting for an answer that never comes. "I know exactly what you're going through and-"

"No you don't!" She suddenly responds, flying out of her bed and onto her feet.

"You have no idea what you're talking about, or what I'm going through, so don't even try that with me! You're perfect, there's no way you could even come close to how I'm feeling right now," Jess finishes with a huff of breath, and I pause before responding.

"I know what you're feeling because I went through it too," I draw a trembling breath and she crosses her arms, her eyes examining mine with mistrust.

"When I was dating Justin, he brought me down to this place called the Clubhouse where we were supposed to hang out before going to this party that Sheri was having. There was a lot of alcohol and other stuff going around, and I wasn't paying enough attention.

"I think Bryce Walker and his friends put something in my drink a- and," my voice starts to grow shaky, "he and M- Marcus, they started t- touching me. I was so out of it, I couldn't s- stop them."

I look down at my hands and Jess moves to sit down beside me.

"They took o- off my clothes and took v- videos of me. There were so m- many of them. I passed out, and when I woke up, I was n- naked on the floor."

I take a deep breath as my voice grows stronger.

"Clay saved me. He found me naked outside, gave me his h- hoodie, and brought me home. He never pressured me to tell him what happened. I know that you think that he's weird," I add as Jess raises her eyebrows, "but he saved my life. That's why I fell for him, and why I'm not going to let whatever that pig who hurt both of us tear him and I apart."

An odd confidence starts to seep through my voice that I never knew I was capable of.

"So trust me, Jess, when I say that I know exactly what you're going through. Believe me when I tell you that it gets better the second you start talking about it. It becomes your story to tell, and it gives you back the control you lost."

Talking about what Bryce did to me to Jess feels like taking a breath of fresh air. It's as though I haven't taken a breath since that night, with the weight of the memory weighing down on my heart for a year.

When I had told Jeff, it elevated the pain only for it to grow stronger when he died trying to defend me. No matter how much I want to tell him, Clay still hasn't heard the whole story. Telling him feels like a wall I just can't climb over. I'm jumping over and over again endlessly, trying to grab the edge and pull myself on top of it, but I only fall further with each reach.

Jess's eyes are full of tears and she clutches my hand so hard that her knuckles are white.

"Elle. You can't even know how sorry I am, truly. I should've never assumed. I just-" she draws a shaky breath and I wrap an arm around her shoulder for reassurance.

"I don't remember what happened to me, I just know that it did," Jess stares off at the wall. Her almond eyes are brimming with tears as her swollen face hardens. "And I want to make him pay for what he did."

"I agree," I state pointedly, blinking the remaining tears out of my eyes as a blunt hardness forms in my chest, replacing the dread.

She turns to me, a fire blazing in her gaze. "Then let's make him fucking pay," her voice is hard and steely, and her eyes look into mine, holding them in a deep eye contact.

A silent communication passes through us, sitting beside each other on the stiff mattress. Our eyes are locked, we sit in the quiet darkness, and I squeeze her shaking hand reassuringly.

"Let's do it," my voice is bitter and hard, shocking myself.

Jess nods with finality and she sinks her head into my shoulder, where we remain as the world spins around us.

Only yesterday had I passed out just thinking about that night. Now, thoughts and disorganized plans of revenge are floating through my head as Jess's tears fall into my shirt.

Game on, Bryce.