Because if that was the case, he would have encouraged me to fill my cup all the way.
So we walked into the living room, where one side of the couch was occupied.
By Jessica Davis and Justin Foley.
But there was plenty of room on the other end, so we sat down. And what was the first thing we did? We set down our cups and started talking. Just…like…that.
She had to know it was them. Jessica and Justin. But she didn’t say their names. The first boy she kissed kissing the girl who slapped her at Monet’s. It was like she couldn’t escape her past.
Everything I could have hoped for was happening. The questions were personal, as if catching up for the time we let pass. Yet the questions never felt intrusive.
Her voice, if physically possible, comes through the headphones feeling warm. I place cupped hands over my ears to keep her words from escaping.
And they weren’t intrusive. Because I wanted you to know me.
It was wonderful. I couldn’t believe Hannah and I were finally talking. Really talking. And I did not want it to stop.
I loved talking with you, Hannah.
It seemed like you could know me. Like you could understand anything I told you. And the more we spoke, I knew why. The same things excited us. The same things concerned us.
You could have told me anything, Hannah. That night, nothing was off limits. I would’ve stayed till you opened up and let everything out, but you didn’t.
I wanted to tell you everything. And that hurt because some things were too scary. Some things even I didn’t understand. How could I tell someone-someone I was really talking to for the first time-everything I was thinking?
I couldn’t. It was too soon.
But it wasn’t.
Or maybe it was too late.
But you’re telling me now. Why did you wait till now?
Her words, they’re not warm anymore. She might want me to hear them that way, but they’re burning me up instead. In my mind. In my heart.
Clay, you kept saying that you knew things would flow easily between us. You felt that way for a long time, you said. You knew we’d get along. That we would connect.
But how? You never explained that. How could you know? Because I knew what people said about me. I heard all the rumors and lies that will always be a part of me.
I knew they weren’t true, Hannah. I mean, I hoped they weren’t true. But I was too afraid to find out.
I was breaking. If only I’d talked to you sooner. We could have been…we could’ve…I don’t know. But things had gone too far by then. My mind was set. Not on ending my life. Not yet. It was set on floating through school. On never being close to anyone. That was my plan. I’d graduate, then I’d leave.
But then, I went to a party. I went to a party to meet you.
Why did I do that? To make myself suffer? Because that’s what I was doing-hating myself for waiting so long. Hating myself because it wasn’t fair to you.
The only thing that’s not fair are these tapes, Hannah, because I was there for you. We were talking. You could have said anything. I would have listened to absolutely anything.
The couple sitting beside us on the couch, the girl was drunk and laughing and bumping into me every so often. Which was funny at first, but it got old real fast.
Why isn’t Hannah saying her name?
I started to think maybe she wasn’t so drunk after all. Maybe it was all a show for the guy she was talking with…when they were actually talking. Maybe she wanted the couch all to herself and her guy.
So Clay and I left.
We walked around the party, shouting over the music wherever we went. Eventually-successfully-I spun the conversation around. No more big and heavy topics. We needed to laugh. But everywhere we went it was too noisy to hear each other.
So we wound up in the doorway to an empty room.
I remember everything that happened next. I remember it perfectly. But how does she remember it?
While we were standing there, our backs against the doorframe, drinks in hand, we couldn’t stop laughing.
And yet the loneliness I entered the party with came rushing back.
But I wasn’t alone. I knew that. For the first time in a long time, I was connecting-connected-with another person from school. How in the world was I alone?
You weren’t. Hannah, I was there.
Because I wanted to be. That’s all I can say. It’s all that makes sense to me. How many times had I let myself connect with someone only to have it thrown back in my face?
Everything seemed good, but I knew it had the potential to be awful. Much, much more painful than the others.
There was no way that was going to happen.
So there you were, letting me connect with you. And when I couldn’t do that anymore, when I pulled the conversation to lighter topics, you made me laugh. And you were hilarious, Clay. You were exactly what I needed.
So I kissed you.
No, I kissed you, Hannah.
A long and beautiful kiss.
And what did you say when we came up for air? With the cutest, littlest, boyish smirk, you asked, “What was that for?”
Right. You kissed me.
To which I said, “You’re such an idiot.” And we kissed some more.
An idiot. Yes, I remember that, too.
Eventually we shut the door and moved deeper into the room. We were on one side of the door. And the rest of the party, with its loud but muffled music, was on the other.
Amazing. We were together. That’s what I kept thinking the whole time. Amazing. I had to concentrate so hard to keep that word from spilling out of my mouth.
Some of you may be wondering, How come we never heard about this? We always found out who Hannah made out with.
Because I never told.
Wrong. You only thought you found out. Haven’t you been listening? Or did you only pay attention to the tape with your name on it? Because I can count on one hand-yes, one hand-how many people I’ve made out with. But you, you probably thought I’d need both hands and both feet just to get started, right?
What’s that? You don’t believe me? You’re shocked? Guess what…I don’t care. The last time I cared what anyone thought about me was that night. And that was the last night.
I unbuckle my seatbelt and lean forward. I clasp my hand over my mouth and squeeze to keep from screaming.
But I do scream, the sound dampened in the palm of my hand.
And Tony keeps driving.
Now get comfortable, because I’m about to tell you what happened in that room between Clay and me. Are you ready?
We kissed.
That’s it. We kissed.
I look down at my lap, at the Walkman. It’s too dark to see the spindles behind the plastic window, pulling the tape from one side to the other, but I need to focus on something, so I try. And concentrating on the spot where the two spindles should be is the closest I get to looking into Hannah’s eyes as she tells my story.
It was wonderful, both of us lying on the bed. One of his hands resting on my hip. His other arm cradling my head like a pillow. Both of my arms hugging him, trying to pull him closer. And speaking for myself, I wanted
