~ If you're this far, than you obviously like my story... I hope I don't disappoint! And thank you to those who reviewed :)

P.S. I don't own 13 Reasons, duh! 8) ~

Chapter Four: Finding Home

We swang for quite some time in the park before I accidentally let out a yawn, and Clay realized I was tired. I've kicked myself mentally several times already, but it's no use. Now, at this moment, we are walking me home. I can feel his eyes on me as we walk, and while normally that would be creepy and send chills down my spine, it feels nice to be watched for once. It feels good to know someone finds me worth looking at.

"Hannah, I wish you could see yourself right now." I turn to him, surprised and baffled at his words. He has one of those looks on his face, like Oh, crap. Did I just say that out loud? Then he lets the most beautiful compliment I have ever recieved fall out of his mouth. "In the moonlight, your hair looks like what I would imagine silver honey to look like. Soft, flowing honey, but the color a shimmering silver...," he looks away, his cheeks reddening, and then steals a quick glance back at me, no doubt looking for my reaction. I just squeeze his hand gently, not knowing what else to do, since all my body wants is to stop him and hug him for dear life; I can't do that, because I would feel slightly ridiculous, as if I would be overreacting.

We've reached my doorway now. Standing on the porch, I turn to him, looking up into his eyes, and out of no where, a tear rolls down my cheek. I wrap my arms around his waist, and he in turn does the same around my shoulders, resting his head on my hair.

"I'll never leave, Hannah," he whispers. "I do love you."

"I love you, too, Clay. I know," I answer. I shift my head, just enough so that he lifts his own off of mine, and then I look up into his eyes again, seeing everything I'd seen earlier in that bedroom, and the honesty is still startling. I reach up a little further, kissing him gently and then pulling away before he can return it. With that final action, I pull out of his arms, meaning to reach for the handle and go into my house, but before I can, my mother rips open the door.

"Where the hel--" she begins, but breaks off when her eyes fall on Clay. "Oh. I'm sorry."

"No problem, I was just bringing Hannah home." To my astonishment, he sounds very, very calm under my mothers wicked gaze.

"Well, um, thank you for that." She grabs at her robe, tightening it around herself. "It is pretty late, we should probably let you get home... Surely your parents are wondering...," she can't seem to find the words, and when I look at her, I can see in her eyes that she is just as amazed as I am that I'm with a pleasant boy, let alone a boy at all.

"Yes, it is getting late. I'll see you two tomorrow, if you wouldn't mind...?" He lets the question trail off and my mother answers with a small nod and, surprising me again, a smile. And then Clay has said goodnight and is gone, walking down my driveway and onto the sidewalk, and my mother's warm hand is pulling me inside.

I expect to be lectured a bit, yelled at even, but instead, she actually seems pleased. She just smiles and says goodnight before walking off to her bedroom, leaving me alone in my dark living room. I can't quite figure out what to do with myself, and walk into the kitchen. We don't seem to have any water, or milk, so I poor myself a glass of orange juice, and walk up the stairs to my own room.

I finish off the glass and set it down, then pull my shirt over my head. I walk over to my dresser and whip out a pair of basketball shorts and a tanktop; I can't see which colors because my light is off, and frankly, I don't care. I strip myself of jeans and bra, and step into the pajamas, feeling good all over at the touch of soft, clean fabric. I can't honestly remember the last time I noticed how something felt against my skin. I can't remember the last time I cared.

I walk over to my bed, and out of the corner of my eye, I see my bottle of Motrin lying on the floor under my desk. For a moment I look at it almost longingly before suddenly screaming at myself in my head for ever letting it cross my mind that I could swallow every last one of those and feel free finally, as if that would take all the pain away. But then I remember that I can't yell at myself over longing to end something the only way I thought was available.

And at that moment, it occurs to me that the pain wouldn't have just evaporated into the air, it would've been passed over to everyone else. My family. The people who've hurt me. It would be like a ripple effect on a lake - I would be throwing myself off into the cold darkness and everyone else would feel the aftershock.

But none of that matters now, none of it ever has to bother me again. I can leave that newly locked box behind, and I can start fresh, because now I've found my home, my place. I have found where I belong, where someone can know me and love me and care.

I've found my home, my place, my sanctuary, in the heart of a boy named Clay Jenkins, and, for that, I owe him the world.

Please, review if you liked it, and review if you didn't! I honestly just want to confirm that someone is reading this stuff, ha :) And I will try to write new chapters, but so far I haven't had much time. And if you have read And I Will Pull The Trigger, I will post new chapters on that soon-ish. I'm going to read the book again first though so it may be awhile. :)