Tape 7, Side B - Part Two

Tony couldn't believe his eyes.

It was her. Living. Breathing. Was he dreaming?

He began to hyperventilate, dropping to his knees as he couldn't control the rush of emotions. The influx of guilt, confusion and pain all at once.

This can't be real. She died. I saw her body.

The words that came out of his mouth didn't feel like his.

"What the fuck… Clay!" He cried out, struggling to his feet. Neither Clay nor she moved.

"Clay!" He called out again, louder than before.

It worked. He turned, slowly, to face Tony. He had a somewhat distressed look on his face, but otherwise appeared like the normal Clay he had come to befriend.

"Clay. I'm gonna need you to come on." Tony's voice rang out through the park like a harrowing echo, shaking with unquestionable tension. Almost fearful.

"Alright." Clay replied, a look of uneasiness washing over him.

At once, Tony felt his legs grow feeble again, he had difficulty walking as his eyes remained focused on the girl in front of Clay. He pointed, weakly, towards her.

At which point, her eyes glided up from Clay to Tony, and they locked eyes.

She smiled to him, and he felt faint.

"Clay!" He called out again.

"What?" Clay sounded calm as he approached his friend.

"Clay, please tell me I'm fucking dreaming."

"What are you talking about Ton-…"

"Please tell me I'm fucking dreaming, Clay!"

"You're not dreaming, Tony." She said.

Her voice hit Tony like a semi-truck. He felt emotionally demolished at hearing the syllables roll off her tongue again. It was a surreal moment.

Did she fake her death?

He began to question his own sanity at this point, his eyes watering heavily.

"Clay… why is she… why is she here?"

"Why is who here?"

"Hannah! Why the fuck is she here!?"

Clay's mouth opened to reply, but he seemed shocked at the statement. He turned to look back at the bench, but saw no one.

"What are you?" Tony looked at her when he spoke, his voice wavering with every word.

She turned to face the horizon, the distant lights of cars traveling across the twin bridges appeared like specks darting about in a rush to their destination. The rising moon cast a soft light on her pale skin. Her hair was short, attire was the same as the day her mother bid her farewell for the final time in Baker's Drug Store. The denim jacket, boots, scarf, it was all the same.

"You'll find out eventually." She said, smiling to herself.

"Tony, what the hell is going on?" Clay appeared so confused, so lost. This was not the same Tony he had grown used to over the past few years.

"Clay, get back." He replied firmly.

"No, Tony, what's wrong?"

"She's-… she's right there! Dammit Clay, she's right there!" He pointed profusely, fighting back the tears that threatened his face.

"Tony, we need to leave."

"I-I think you're right Clay…" He shot back quickly, backing away from her, grabbing Clay's arm and pulling it with him.

"Come on, Tony." He said, provoking Tony to turn back around slowly as they made their way to the gate.

Approaching the gate, Tony took one last look towards the hilltop.

She was gone.

"Where does this bus go?"

"Downtown Transit Center."

"From there?"

"Anywhere you want."

"How far to San Francisco?"

"Hop on a bus to El Cerrito from the Transit Center and take the BART into the city from El Cerrito. Hour and a half tops."

"I'll do it."

"It'll be eleven dollars at the transit station."

"I only have ten."

"Then you can't take the BART, son."

"Please, I have to get out of here. Please, can you help me?"

Justin Foley appeared flustered but ready to leave town as soon as possible. His plea with the bus driver appeared genuine enough.

"Fine. Get on. Hurry up, put your bag in the compartment above your seat." The driver sighed, fumbling through his wallet to find a lone dollar bill, handing it to Justin as he readied the bus to depart. He noticed Justin's jacket, but opted to not say anything.

"Th-thank you. Thank you so much." Justin stammered out in relief, hurrying to the back of the bus.

The doors closed and the bus started off towards downtown, Justin ran his fingers through his hair, an occasional stress reliever for him, as he leaned back in the seat and inhaled sharply.

"So, honey. About your deposition earlier today."

"I don't wanna talk about it."

"Are you sure?"

There was a brief moment of silence.

"I'm positive."

"You know, they're just kids sweetheart. Don't let them get to you."

"They don't get to me, mom." Tyler Down appeared frustrated at the comment.

His mother continued eating, while his father just pushed food around with his fork, unsure of what to say in the moment.

It wasn't long before the woman chimed in again.

"It seemed that way, how you described them."

"Everything's fine." Tyler retorted, tossing his fork down onto his plate forcefully.

"Okay. Okay, I'm sorry hon." His mother grew silent, looking down to her plate, taking a deep breath.

"It's just the same shit I've put up with for ten years. Nothing new. Okay?" Tyler continued.

"I went through some of the same 'shit' you are, son. No one is against you at this table, okay?" His father finally decided to add his input to the conversation.

"No dad, I'm pretty sure you didn't." Tyler let out a soft laugh of annoyance, shaking his head. "No one at this damn table has, so stop pretending like you understand me." He stood up to head to his room, pausing briefly to claim the final word.

"Because you never have."

His door shut behind him as his father stood up to start the dishwasher.

"I think I lost my appetite," he told his wife, sighing to himself.

"I think we should get our son some help, James."

"Do you think he'll willingly accept it?" He questioned, opening the dishwasher.

"What makes you think he won't?"

James looked up to her.

"Because he hasn't opened up to us about his problems since they started. It's been ten years."

"It's still worth a shot."

"Fine. Call a shrink then."

"Who? He didn't talk to the last one."

"Anyone, I don't know any. What about that doctor you go to for your anxiety?"

"I'll call him in the morning and see if he can help."

"Alright then."

She stood up, handing James her plate before heading into the living room. He finished loading the dishwasher and shut it, started it up, and joined his wife.

Sitting beside her on the couch, they turned on the television. Everything came on normally, as usual. They switched channels, seeking the evening news for once.

They didn't like what they found.

"A seventeen-year-old boy from Liberty High School has reportedly shot himself this afternoon in an apparent suicide attempt. Authorities are not releasing any further details at this moment, but the boy is in critical condition at Mercy Hospital."

"Oh my god." She looked at him, he didn't return the glance but remained focused on the screen.

"We will bring you more details as we learn them," the television continued.

"Okay, yeah, we call the shrink tomorrow for sure." James said.

Tony's Mustang rumbled down the streets of town, slowly yet surely towards its destination.

Clay's gaze was directed out the window at the passing homes, he hadn't said a word to Tony since they both left the park. He wasn't sure what to say.

"Clay."

"Tony, I don't know what happened in there. But you must've been dreaming." Clay finally spoke up in response.

"Clay, it felt real. She was there. I don't know what the fuck happened but she was there."

"What was she doing?" Clay shifted his eyes to Tony, who still appeared shaken up.

"Just… standing there. In front of you."

"In front of me?"

"Yeah. Like on the edge of the hill."

"Did she say anything?"

"Yeah."

"What?" Clay appeared more curious than he let on. This was of course, Hannah Baker, how could he not be curious?

"I asked her what she was. All she said was, 'you'll find out eventually.'"

"What the fuck?" Clay questioned.

"I know… I know. I think this whole guilt thing is just getting to me. The tapes, everything. I thought I could be strong through this."

"You've been strong, Tony. Everyone needs a break though." Clay replied.

"I just don't know why I saw her like that."

There was silence in the car for a few seconds, Clay began fidgeting with his hands as he looked down for a moment.

"She's dead." Clay murmured, eyes moving back out the window, his face occasionally glazed over with the orange hue of a street light. "She's not coming back." He felt the water in his eyes, but fought it off this time. "We just need to accept that."

Tony had no words. He just kept driving. The streets passed as they grew closer to Clay's house.

Clay's focus remained on the passing houses, until one caught his eye.

It was Jeff's.

"So, World War Two didn't just happen in Europe and the Pacific?" Jeff appeared amazed at the revelation, his blue-green eyes lighting up in genuine curiosity.

"No, it happened almost everywhere."

"Even Australia?" Jeff asked Clay. They were in the library, as usual.

"Yeah Jeff, even Australia." Clay laughed in reply, opening his American history textbook to a section closer to the end.

"That must've sucked."

"The Japanese bombed Darwin in 1942."

"Who's Darwin? Like Charles Darwin? I thought he was earlier than that?" Jeff's demeanor transformed instantly from curiously delighted to delightfully confused.

"No, like the city of Darw-…"

"Clay, can I talk to you?" A voice called from behind them.

It was Tony.

"Uh, yeah sure, what's up?"

"In private?"

"Oh, yeah that's fine." He turned to Jeff, "be right back." Jeff nodded, waving his hand, as if to send Clay off himself.

Tony led the way out into a hallway adjacent to the library.

"Everything okay?" Clay asked.

"I don't know," Tony replied firmly. "Have you seen Hannah around lately?"

"Yeah, last period. Why?"

"She act any different?"

"Not that I could tell. We didn't speak."

"I thought you two were friends?"

"Uh, yeah. We are."

"You should try talking to her more, Clay. You never know where it might take you. But that's beyond the point."

"Yeah, what is your point?"

"She's been acting kinda weird lately. I thought she had made friends with Ryan, but they seem to be avoiding each other now."

"Oh? Ryan?"

"Yeah, you haven't seen?"

"No?"

Tony laughed. "You should pay more attention to her too, Clay. She may like that."

"Alright Tony, I get it. Talk to her, pay attention to her. Anything else you'd like to add?"

"Next time you see her, see if you can get her to talk. I just have this feeling something's not right."

"Why haven't you talked to her, then?"

"Because I only have one period with her, and she's out the door before I can even get up."

"I work with her tonight."

"Try and talk to her then. I'd hate to see this girl get into some rut she can't get out of."

"Me too."

"Thanks, Clay." Tony patted him on the shoulder before turning to leave.

Clay re-entered the library, approaching his table, he noticed something different. It was empty.

He stopped in front of his table, looking around. No one was in the room.

"Clay?"

He turned, jumping in fright as Jeff appeared behind him, sporting a massive gash on his head.

"Clay?"

"Yeah?"

"Your stop."

Clay shook himself out of the trance, before noticing they were parked outside of his house.

"Oh, thanks Tony."

"You headed to school tomorrow, right?"

"Of course, can't wait." Clay replied sarcastically, winning a quick grin from Tony as he stepped out of the Mustang."

"Alright, I'll see you then."

"Later Tony."

The car sped off down the street as Clay headed up the steps to his house. Opening the door quietly, he entered the kitchen and was greeted by an all-too-familiar face.

His father stood over the stove, cooking something that Clay couldn't quite see.

"Evening, son."

"Oh, hey dad."

"How was school?"

"School? School was fine."

"Really? Cause I got a call earlier today saying you missed your last three periods. You're still on attendance alert."

"Aw, really? Because I could've sworn I sat through the awful lecture about DNA replication."

His father chuckled. "You're lucky your mother wasn't home today, or she could've been much less forgiving."

"Where is she?"

"Finishing up some stuff at the office. Another late night."

"Lawsuit stuff?"

"Afraid so."

Clay sighed.

"When is your deposition, again?"

"Tomorrow."

"Best of luck against your mother," Matt smiled to his son.

"Yeah, thanks dad." Clay exited the kitchen as silently as he came in, climbing up the stairs and into his bedroom. He was halfway through his doorway before a knock came at the front door.

"I'll get it Clay!" Matt shouted up to him, hearing his son moving towards the stairs.

He opened the front door, revealing Olivia and Andy Baker. Olivia was clutching the flash drive given to her by Tony. She looked briefly at Matt before switching targets, locating Clay at the top of the stairs. Her face was full of sorrow, yet full of questions.

Perhaps now, Clay could give her the answers she sought.

The bus grinded to a halt, and the passengers began to disembark, one by one. There weren't many, but Justin decided to wait until the last one was off the bus.

Moments passed, and he finally gets up to leave. He looked out the window at the transit center, it was a hub of activity, people moving about in every which way, buses maneuvering around and pulling into the different stations. He had to figure out his way to El Cerrito, but first he needed a ticket.

"Wait, son." The driver stopped him as he neared the steps.

"What is it?" Justin looked back.

"That jacket you're wearing."

"What about it?" His voice was nearly drowned out by the sounds of all the buses just outside. The driver closed the doors and cleared his throat.

"You play for Liberty, yeah?" The driver asked him.

"I used to." Justin looked down to the floor, kicking invisible dust to try and ease himself.

"Yeah, you look familiar. I used to go to all the games." He paused, collecting his thoughts. "Well, the baseball games that is. But I went to see basketball with my son a few times too."

"That's great. I'm happy for you. But I don't play for them anymore." Justin replied.

"Why not?"

"Things happened." He turned to depart once more.

"You may have known my son." The driver said. Justin looked back for a fleeting moment before stepping down the steps towards the closed doors, shrugging his shoulders."

"I knew a lot of people." He pushed on the doors, hoping they'd oblige and open for him manually.

"Jeff Atkins?" The driver said. Justin stopped and turned slowly around to face the man. He had an innocent yet somewhat compelling demeanor. His eyes, however, seemed somewhat foggy, as if they'd lost the spark that once lit them ablaze with life.

"Jeff?" Justin said.

"That was my son. Jeff."

"Yeah, I knew Jeff." Justin replied, nodding slowly, his eyes locking with the driver.

"Were you there that night?" He asked the boy before him.

Justin took a deep breath, eyes leaving the man's gaze and moving to look out the windshield. The images came flooding back.

He tried to pull him off of her.

"The fuck out of here man!" Bryce shouted, pushing Justin out of the bedroom and slamming the door, locking it behind him.

Staring up at the door, he descended into tears, but he allowed it to happen. He didn't bang on the door. He didn't break it down. He didn't call for help. He stumbled to his feet and made his way downstairs to the couch, where he remained for the rest of the night. His eyes stared off into the distance, in a trance of some sorts, not focused enough to notice Hannah Baker make her way down the stairs, glaring at him intently, eyes raw from tears.

Minutes later, he didn't notice Sheri Holland approaching a distraught Hannah, offering her a ride home. Ten minutes pass. His trance is unshaken. Jessica had not returned downstairs, but eventually, Bryce Walker did. He eyed Justin on the couch briefly before making his way outside, drunkenly sliding open the glass door to the backyard.

A few moments after, Jeff Atkins appeared from the front yard, his conversation with Clay Jensen had ended, and he grabbed his keys from his left pocket and went around the party, taking requests for beer. Gathering a list, he approached Justin.

"Justin, you want anything? I'm going for a beer run."

Justin remained silent.

"Justin?"

"I'm fine."

"Alright man."

Jeff hurried out the door, note and keys in hand. Justin hears his car leaving, but his trance remained. Jessica never re-appeared downstairs.

It was the next day that he learned of Jeff's fate.

"Yeah. Yeah I was there." He replied quietly, voice wavering as he continued to stare out the windshield of the bus.

"Was he in a good mood?"

"What?"

"Was he happy? Did he seem that way?"

"Uh y-yeah, I guess so."

"Just needed to know if my boy was happy in his last hours. Thank you."

"Yeah, anytime." Justin attempted to give the man a faint smile, but it wouldn't come. So he simply nodded and turned back towards the doors. The driver opened them and Justin stepped down to the sidewalk.

"I'm sorry about Jeff," Justin said, looking back at the driver. "He was a good guy. A good friend." He wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

"Thank you, son." The driver replied, a small smile displayed on his face. He closed the doors and accelerated the bus forward.

Justin stood alone on the sidewalk as the late-night bus crowds swarmed around him to catch the next bus, which pulled up where the last one departed from. The transit center loomed before him. His escape.

He turned, blank-faced, oblivious to the crowds on all sides of him, and watched as the bus drove off and disappeared into the growing darkness of the night.

So that's Part Two! I'm enjoying myself with this, exploring my creativity. I still have a lot of characters to address, but we'll get there. Baby steps! I'm starting to develop two storylines in particular, Tony/Clay's and Justin's. I think those two will be my most prominent ones for the first few "episodes" before I feel ready to tackle the bigger storylines, like Jessica, Alex and Bryce. Also notice how Jeff has been getting a decent amount of attention. There's a reason why. A lot of his backstory and motivations will be explained as we go on, and how he really relates to Hannah's story.