Hannah's POV

It's been a month since that first god-awful party. And I hadn't spoken to you. But as this month drew to an end I knew I had to. The suicidal thoughts had stopped as soon as I found out the one thing that could save me.

So many times, I have tried to gather up the courage to speak to you, but each time the guilt had overwhelmed me as I thought back to the tapes I had almost sent. I sent you a letter, placing it in your locker. Monet's after school, Hannah xx.

Clay looked at the letter and smiled to himself before nodding, hoping she was okay and maybe that she wanted to rekindle what they'd found at the party.

Throughout the day Clay couldn't help but think about her. Her lips, her smile, her long beautiful hair that he desperately wanted to twist in his fingers.

Jumping onto his bike, he rode with passion and purpose. Excitement bubbled through his veins as he parked and practically jogged to get into the diner. She was sitting there; a grey thick wool cardigan overpowered her slight stature. She stood and bit her lip, seeing him approach her. Air was trapped in her throat as Hannah struggled to breath, fear catching in her lungs. "Hi," Clay smiled sitting down in the booth seat across from her. The waitress served him some coffee and he thanked her, his good nature shining through. "Hannah…" Clay said, offering her his hand and she placed it in there gratefully. "Hannah, I've missed you, us." Hannah nodded tears welling up in her eyes. "Clay…the reason I haven't been around is because, well because I guess I was scared to face you after the party. I was embarrassed of what you were thinking about me." He stared at her in bewildered shock that she was so upset about that night. He went to speak but Hannah shook her head, "But, ah, we kind of have to face it. I'm pregnant and I'm keeping it. No matter what."

Before he even had the chance to answer, she was gone. She fled just like she always did. Leaving situations, that she was too scared to face. She was walking home, tears flowing faster than she could wipe them away. Her breathing was short and laboured, something the doctor at the clinic had told her was a completely normal symptom. Her hands were shaking as she declined yet another of his calls. Clay knew she would be close by as he kept riding the path to her house, her being on foot would be easy enough to catch, he figured, even despite her head-start. "HANNAH!" He yelled, seeing her distressed silhouette in front of him. "HANNAH, STOP!" He shouted, and she stopped in the middle of the kerb waiting for him to catch up.

"Don't scare me like that!" He snapped, as he climbed off his bike grabbing her shoulders gently. Reaching out to press a hand to her soft waist, "Especially not for the next nine months." He smiled as her gaze rose to meet his. She smiled back at him. "Well, technically, 7 and half. I'm already 6 weeks." He pulled her into his arms the moment after she spoke, wrapping his arms around her.

'Come on," He said, "Jump on." He nodded at his bike, and she shook her head hesitantly. "I'll be careful, but you're cold and clearly tired. It's not that far. You won't fall. I promise." Although unsure, Hannah took Clay's hand and helped her on, letting her sit on the handle bars.

They reached her house, and without a word – Hannah took his hand and led him inside, guiding him up the stairs and into her bedroom. It was perfect, he thought, seeing the charcoal bed cover and blush throw pillows that her bed was decorated with and the desk that showed her unique style. "Where's all the black? This is not Hannah's room!" He laughed sitting on the edge of the bed while she lay against the pillows, letting him cover her with the blush throw that stayed on the end of the bed. She shrugged, "I don't know. I was thinking that black isn't really a 'mom' colour." Hannah felt nervous to tell him the motives behind her changing style. Clay looked around contemplatively and nodded. "I like the pink…if that matter." She gasped in shock "It's not pink, it's blush! Completely different things." Hannah replied laughing and Clay pretending to be serious spoke back. "I'm so sorry. You're completely right."

Before long, they're resting in each other's arms, listening to some Spotify playlist. Clay repeatedly pressed kisses into her hair, while Hannah closed her eyes just relaxing in the quiet. She sat up, handing him the plastic bag that was hidden under her bed. She watched him unpack it, Clay was clearly confused. Inside was various onesies, several blue and pink as well as some yellow and grey. "I couldn't decide if I think it's a boy or a girl. So I've bought both colours and some neutrals." Hannah blurted out trying to explain herself. Clay nodded trying to keep up with her moving thoughts. "That's cool, I like this one." He said trying to include himself as he held up a butter yellow and grey spotted onesie for newborns. "Can you imagine, something this little?" Without a second thought, he put his hand on her rounding tum. She flinched slightly before relaxing to her touch.

Noises sounded downstairs, alerting them to the fact her parents were home and hours had passed. "Hannah?" Her mom knocked on her door, making Clay's breathe catch in his throat as Hannah shook her head "Don't say anything." She whispered before answering, "Hi Mom," She shouted back as her mom opened the door nervous about her seeing Clay on her bed. "Hi Clay?" Surprised to see him on her daughter's bed. "Are you staying for dinner? There's plenty." Clay looked between her mom to Hannah before nodding and shrugging "That would be great." He instantly regretted the idea.