easier than last time because I was house-sitting that weekend. A friend of my father’s was out of town and I was watching his house for him, feeding his dog, and keeping an eye on things because there was supposed to be a rager a few doors down.
And there was. Maybe not as big as the last party, but definitely not one for beginners.
Even if I thought you might be there, I still would’ve stayed home.
With the way you ignored me at school, I assumed you would ignore me there, too. And that was a theory too painful to prove.
I’ve heard people say that after a particularly bad experience with tequila, just the smell of it can make them barf. And while this party didn’t make me barf, just being near it-just hearing it-twisted my stomach into knots.
One week was nowhere near enough time to get over that last party.
The dog was going crazy, yapping every time someone walked by the window. I would crouch down, yelling at him to get away from there, but was too afraid to go over and pick him up-too afraid someone might see me and call my name.
So I put the dog in the garage, where he could yap all he wanted.
Wait, I remember it now. The last time I saw you.
The bass thumping down the block was impossible to shut out. But I tried. I ran through the house, closing curtains and twisting shut every blind I could find.
I remember the last words we said to each other.
Then I hid myself in the bedroom with the TV blasting. And even though I couldn’t hear it, I could feel the bass pumping inside of me.
I shut my eyes, tight. I wasn’t watching the TV anymore. I wasn’t in that room anymore. I could only think back to that closet, hiding inside it with a pile of jackets surrounding me. And once again, I started rocking back and forth, back and forth. And once again, no one was around to hear me cry.
In Mr. Porter’s English class, I noticed your desk was empty. But when the bell rang and I walked into the hall, there you were.
Eventually the party died down. And after everyone walked by the window again, and the dog stopped yapping, I walked through the house reopening the curtains.
We almost bumped into each other. But your eyes were down so you didn’t know it was me. And together, we said it. “I’m sorry.”
After being shut in for so long, I decided to catch a breath of fresh air. And maybe, in turn, be a hero.
Then you looked up. You saw me. And there, in your eyes, what was it? Sadness? Pain? You moved around me and tried pushing your hair away from your face. Your fingernails were painted dark blue. I watched you walk down the long stretch of hallway, with people knocking into me. But I didn’t care.
I stood there and watched you disappear. Forever.
Once again, everybody, D-4. Courtney Crimsen’s house. The site of this party.
No, this tape is not about Courtney…though she does play a part. But Courtney has no idea what I’m about to say because she left just as things got going.
I turn and walk in the opposite direction of Courtney’s house.
My plan was to just walk by the place. Maybe I’d find someone struggling to put a key in their car door and I’d give them a ride home.
I’m not going to Courtney’s. I’m going to Eisenhower Park, the scene of Hannah’s first kiss.
But the street was empty. Everyone was gone.
Or so it seemed.
And then, someone called my name.
Over the tall wooden fence at the side of her house, a head poked up. And whose head would that be? Bryce Walker’s.
God, no. This can only end one way. If anyone can shovel more shit onto Hannah’s life, it’s Bryce.
“Where you going?” he asked.
How many times had I seen him, with any of his girlfriends, grabbing their wrists and twisting? Treating them like meat.
And that was in public.
My body, my shoulders, everything was set to keep walking by the house. And I should have kept walking. But my face turned toward him. There was steam rising up from his side of the fence.
“Come on, join us,” he said. “We’re sobering up.”
And whose head should pop up beside his? Miss Courtney Crimsen’s.
Now there was a coincidence. She’s the one who used me as a chauffer to attend a party. And there I was, crashing her after-party.
She’s the one who left me stranded with no one to talk to. And there I was, at her house, where she had nowhere to hide.
That’s not why you did it, Hannah. That’s not why you joined them. You knew it was the worst choice possible. You knew that.
But who am I to hold a grudge?
That’s why you did it. You wanted your world to collapse around you. You wanted everything to get as dark as possible. And Bryce, you knew, could help you do that.
He said you were all just relaxing a bit. Then you, Courtney, offered to give me a ride home when we were done, not realizing “home” was only two houses away. And you sounded so genuine, which surprised me.
It even made me feel a little guilty.
I was willing to forgive you, Courtney. I do forgive you. In fact, I forgive almost all of you. But you still need to hear me out. You still need to know.
I walked across the wet grass and pulled a latch on the fence, popping the gate open a few inches. And behind it, the source of the steam…a redwood hot tub.
The jets weren’t on, so the only sound was the water lapping against the sides. Against the two of you.
Your heads were back, resting on the edge of the hot tub. Your eyes were shut. And the little smiles on your faces made the water and steam look so inviting.
Courtney rolled her head my way but kept her eyes shut. “We’re in our underwear,” she said.
I waited a second. Should I?
No…but I will.
You knew what you were getting into, Hannah.
I took off my top, pulled off my shoes, took off my pants, and climbed the wooden steps. And then? I descended into the water.
It felt so relaxing. So comforting.
I cupped the hot water in my hands and let it drip over my face. I pushed it back through my hair. I forced my eyes to shut, my body to slide down, and my head to rest against the ledge.
But with the calming water also came terror. I should not be here. I didn’t trust Courtney. I didn’t trust Bryce. No matter what their original intentions, I knew them each well enough not to trust them for long.
And I was right not to trust them…but I was done. I was through fighting. I opened my eyes and looked up at the night sky. Through the steam, the whole world seemed like a dream.
I narrow my eyes as I walk, wanting to shut them completely.
Before long, the water became uncomfortable. Too hot.
When I open my eyes, I want to be standing in front of the park. I don’t want to see any more of the streets I walked, and the streets Hannah walked, the night of the party.
But when I pushed my back against the tub and sat up to cool my upper body, I could see my breasts through my wet bra.
So I slid back down.
And Bryce slid over…slowly…across the underwater bench. And his shoulder rested against mine.
Courtney opened her eyes, looked at us, then shut them again.
I swing a fist to the side and rattle a rusted chain-link fence. I shut my eyes and drag my fingers across the metal.
