**Note: Oh my goodness I am sorry for taking so long to write another chapter. It's been over a year. And I know I apologize every time I post something. But believe me, if I could spend all day just writing for fun I totally would. But work and school consume everything now. If there's anyone still interested in this, hopefully an update reaches you.

Chapter 10

"Stupid shoes." Hannah muttered. "Ugh!" She looked down and saw that her sock had slipped passed her heal, which was now completely exposed to the back of her shoe. A blister was beginning to form. "Well that's just great."

She removed the shoe and continued to walk, or rather, limp, down the sidewalk. Tripping over the uneven concrete, she landed in the gutter, soaking her shoeless foot. It was at this moment that Hannah was glad the water was murky. She didn't want to risk the chance of looking at herself. She was too ashamed. She was the burden.

Hannah had made it four blocks from the house without so much as looking at her phone, which had been continuously vibrating. And anytime it did, she'd simply mutter "nope" and put it to voicemail.

It was dark, and unlike the lights of a busy city, the small town of Dillon was not glittered with street lamps and car headlights. It was hard to see what the street signs said ahead of her. And then she realized another thing: no address. So, Hannah dug her phone out of her pocket and cleared the 14 missed calls notification before looking up Julie's number. She put it to her ear and waited as it rang.

"Hello?" Julie answered, though it was difficult to hear her over the sound of music blaring from the speakers and people attempting to make themselves heard over it.

"Hey, I uh...I think I'd like to go to that party."

"Oh, okay. We can pick you up. Should we just wait on the driveway?"

Hannah looked around and saw a few abandoned cars parked in the front yard of nearby houses. "Here's the thing," she began, "I'm not entirely sure where I am."

~9:35 PM~

Her friends were kind enough not to question anything, despite finding Hannah on the corner of an empty road, shoe in hand and white streaks staining her cheeks as the tears smudged the foundation. It seemed makeup would not be kind to someone who wished to hide the evidence of a meltdown.

More people had showed up at Smash's as time went on, and so the three were forced to park down the street and walk the rest of the way.

"You should see if someone can find you a bandaid." Julie was looking down at Hannah's heel. "That looks painful."

In truth, Hannah had forgotten about the pain. It wasn't as if it had subsided; she had been replaying the conversation with her father over and over in her head all the way there and had simply blocked out the pain. It was nothing compared to what she was feeling inside. Burden.

Hannah could feel the bass vibrate in her ears and tickle her throat as they made their way up the front yard of Smash's house. Red plastic cups were sprinkled all over the grass and some were stuck in the bushes. A couple was sitting on the steps outside in a passionate embrace, their faces mashed against each other, hands grabbing fistfuls of hair. Julie and Matt found this funny, but their eyes soon met, and their gaze lingered a moment before they each looked away in embarrassment. If Hannah had been in the right mood, she would have found this cute.

"Do you want something to eat?" Julie asked. "I think there's a bowl of chips and pretzels in the kitchen."

Hannah shook her head. "I'm not hungry. Actually...I think I'd like a drink."

Julie's brow scrunched up and she narrowed her eyes. "What kind of drink?"

"Vodka. Beer. Tequila. It doesn't matter. As long as it's not a god damn soda."

Matt and Julie looked at each other. This was a party after all, but they both knew that Hannah didn't drink. And it was clear that she was not in the right frame of mind. Hannah saw this look and she rolled her eyes.

"You know, I think I'll just get it myself." She brushed passed the two of them and headed for the kitchen.

There was barely any standing room except for near the sink. Empty cans, crushed red cups, and sticky liquid covered the floor and countertops. A boy was opening a new bottle of Grey Goose vodka. Hannah made a beeline to him and grabbed an unused cup from a plastic bag.

"Never seen you at one of these before," he said.

"Well, if I don't get some of that in my system soon you probably won't be seeing me at one of these again." Hannah held the cup out in front of her and nodded towards the bottle.

"All right, take it easy party animal. Here you go." He filled the cup up halfway and reached for the cap. But Hannah wasn't having it. She pushed the cup closer to him. "More?" He asked. She smirked at him. "'Kay, have it your way."

Hannah turned to leave, but the boy touched her arm to stop her. She looked back at him and then down at her arm. He quickly let go.

"Sorry, I just thought maybe you'd like a drinking buddy."

Hannah looked him up and down. "I don't think I'd be very good company right now."

Even though he had done nothing to suggest it, his actions were throwing warning signals at her. She instinctively put a hand over her cup and took a casual step back from him.

"Oh, that's cool. No worries. If you need more, I'll be over by the TV. I opened this for some of the guys over there."

Hannah smiled. "Will do."

She turned to leave the kitchen when she saw him-the tall, long-haired boy in his jersey and jeans. One hand was in his pocket, the other was holding a beer. He hadn't seen her yet, as he was too engaged in a conversation with Smash. It looked serious, as if the two were strategizing. Smash clapped a hand on Tim's back and the two each took a swig of their beers.

Hannah, on the other hand, felt pain in the pit of her stomach at the sight of the jerseys. She quickly turned back to her new friend and touched his arm. "You know what, I think I will join you."

The boy grinned. "Cool. Well, I'm Derek, by the way."

Instead of answering, Hannah took a drink from her red cup. There was no point in introductions. She was hoping to forget everything tonight anyway.

~10:50 PM~

Hannah had managed to find a seat on the couch, still holding the red cup in her hand. Though, she had started to lose her momentum, and her hand let the cup tilt to the side. She had lost track of where Julie and Matt had wandered off to, but she wasn't sure she wanted to know. Derek had seemingly given up on her for the time being, but that was mainly because she stopped paying attention to him. Part of her felt bad, but she was mostly just aware of how hot the room had become, and that her tongue was feeling slightly numb.

She glanced around the room and watched the swaying bodies move to the rhythm of a new song. It must have been a well-known song, because everyone suddenly cheered, and more people got on to the dance floor that was the living room carpet. It was amusing, because everyone had become increasingly intoxicated, and not everyone could keep up with the beat. Hannah smirked at a boy attempting (and failing) to do the worm. But then she saw the back of a jersey numbered 33 and her face fell.

His back was to her, and he was standing in between the legs of a rally girl who was perched on a countertop. She couldn't see what his face was doing, but she had an idea. Especially when the rally girl clasped her hands behind his neck and pulled him closer. And that was it for Hannah.

She stood up suddenly, a little too fast, and watched the room spin around her. She stumbled a bit, but regained her footing and chugged the remaining contents in her red cup. She pursed her lips as the liquid fire burned her throat. Nobody had ever warned her how disgusting hard liquor was.

With wobbly legs, Hannah made her way to the front door. She turned to give one last look at her first high school party-and if she was honest with herself, probably her last-and walked out into the muggy evening air. The wind had picked up a little, so she crossed her arms over her chest. In the back of her mind, she knew that what she was doing was stupid, not only because she was clearly drunk, but because it was late in the evening and you never knew what kind of people were out for trouble on a Frida night, even in a small town like Dillon.

But she didn't care. She just needed to get away. Two things she was sure of: nobody needed her, and she didn't need them.

~11:20 PM~

Back at the house, Smash had started a rival beer pong game with one of the other partygoers, shouting over the crowd and the music that his group composed of an all-star team. Julie and Matt looked at each other, and silently agreed that perhaps it was time to head home. They just had to get Hannah off the couch.

But, Hannah wasn't on the couch. And she wasn't in the kitchen, and she wasn't out back behind the house. She wasn't…anywhere.

Julie sprung into action, silently cursing herself for letting her friend out of her sight. Especially when it should have been so clear to her that Hannah wasn't in the frame of mind to be alone.

"Please, please be in this house," Julie said under her breath. Her eyes frantically searched each bedroom, but she never saw her friend.

She returned downstairs and found Matt, her voice cracking now and she tried not to cry. Matt went in search for Landry, hoping he had seen Hannah. Julie pulled out her phone and searched for her friend's contact. But it went to voicemail. This was bad. This was very, very bad.

Julie ran back into the living room and nearly collided with Tim Riggins, who had just retrieved another drink from the kitchen.

"Oh, god, Tim!" Julie cried. She gripped her phone in one hand, and grabbed his arm with the other. "Hannah's gone."

Tim furrowed his brows and tilted his head. "Hannah's here?"

"She was," Julie breathed, her heart hammering. "And now she's gone. She's drunk, Tim."

Tim's eyes lit up with concern, which quickly turned to fear. "I'll get my car."

"I have no idea where she could be." Julie's voice cracked again.

"Probably going home?" Tim said. But he saw Julie shake her head violently. And he remembered the cryptic things Hannah had said before. It's complicated, she had said.

Hannah wasn't going home. And the only other place he had seen her was at school. But wait, that wasn't true. He had seen her somewhere else. He suddenly yanked the keys from his pocket and headed for the door.

"Keep calling her. I might know where she is," he called over his shoulder.

…

"Please, god damn it. Please be there," he muttered between gritted teeth. He pressed harder on the accelerator of his truck, silently cursing that he hadn't traded it in for that newer truck Lyla had mentioned at her father's store.

He pulled off to the gravel, his headlights basking two narrow lines of the field in light. His heart sped up when he saw a mound of dark hair near the ground.

She was huddled on the grass, her chin resting on her knees. She almost looked like she was meditating. But the shaking of her shoulders gave her away. Hannah was quietly crying into her knees, her hair falling over her face.

Tim jumped out of the truck and slammed the door shut. The sound startled Hannah, and she turned around to face him. The headlights were still on, and she squinted to see who was standing in front of them.

"What the absolute fuck were you thinking?"

"How did you know where I was?"

It wasn't the response he wanted. He stormed over to her and knelt down on the ground to meet her gaze. His light eyes appeared dark now, clouded by anger.

"That was the dumbest thing you could have done, Hannah. And you and I both know you ain't dumb. So, as I've already said. What the fuck?"

She looked away from him and turned her body back to the trees. "It's so quiet out here. Really makes you think." Her voice wavered on the last word, and he saw her hand reach up to her face. He guessed she had wiped a tear away.

"Hannah," he said again, only this time his tone was softer. "What happened?"

To his surprise, she snorted. "Not sure why you care."

He felt his anger building again. "Well, that's just stupid."

"How many times are you going to insult my intelligence?" She slurred some of her words.

"I'll stop if you answer my questions. Now, what's going on with you? This isn't like you at all."

She said nothing, and simply bowed her head again so her forehead rested on her knees. The wind brushed her hair off her shoulders and into her face again. And in doing so, he caught a whiff of her vanilla shampoo-and the alcohol seeping from her skin. Normally, he enjoyed the smell, but on Hannah, it didn't fit. It was tainting an otherwise perfect scent.

"I don't know what I am anymore," she said quietly. She paused for a moment and then took in a deep breath. "I'm nobody."

Tim sat beside her and crossed his legs. It pulled his jeans tighter, making him uncomfortable and stiff. "You're not a nobody, Hannah." He tentatively reached out to touch her shoulder. A few of his fingers brushed against the back of her neck.

"Just go," she murmured.

"No."

"I said go, Tim. I want to be alone."

Tim scoffed and ran a hand through his hair. "Well that's just too bad, darlin'. Because I'm not about to leave you out here in the middle of nowhere." She said nothing., but pulled away from his touch. "Look, if you don't wanna go anywhere, that's fine by me. We'll just sit here instead."

"I don't need a babysitter. But I'm sure those girls back at the party probably need one. So, you can run along now."

Hannah felt a twinge of guilt for the way she was speaking to him. But she wanted to be alone, and he wouldn't leave. She'd have to be more aggressive. Besides, she wasn't wrong. He was busy with cheer squad. So, why was he here? To be an annoyance?

But he didn't leave her side. He just exhaled loudly and began picking at the black mass of grass underneath them.

"Didn't you hear me? I said leave!" she shouted. She had hoped it would come out with more bravado, but her voice cracked again and the tears swelled in her eyes. She turned in the opposite direction from him and wiped her eyes on her sleeve.

"I don't know how to help you, Hannah. Other than to stay here."

She threw her hands in the air and stood up suddenly, and strode deeper into the clearing near the trees. Tim trailed behind.

Hannah turned around suddenly and yelled, "Just leave me alone!"

But Tim increased his speed and looked at her pleadingly. "What is going on, Hannah? Please just tell me."

A growl escape from her and she grabbed both sides of her head. Tears were streaming down her face and she quickly blinked trying to free her vision. "THEY DON'T WANT ME, OKAY?"

Tim stopped and cocked his head to the side. "What?"

"They don't…." she was trembling now, her words cut off by her choking. "They don't...want...me...They don't…."

Tim was really struggling now, struggling not to reach out and grab her and shake her by the shoulders. He thought about putting his hands in his pockets to stop the temptation, but instead he just held them out to her.

"Who doesn't, Hannah? What are you saying?"

And through several choking attacks and fits of sobbing she finally said, "I'm a burden. They said I'm a burden-nobody wants me. Nobody wants me."

Tim walked up to her and pulled her hands away from her face. Despite her red, swollen eyes and glistening cheeks, she looked perfect in this moment. He felt the sudden urge to protect her, to comfort her, and to reassure her. He wiped under her eye with his thumb.

"Hannah, that's just not true."

She scoffed and looked away from him. "How would you know?" she asked, shaking her head and hiccuping from the mounds of air she had swallowed.

"Because," he said quietly. He looked down at the ground and then sighed. "Because...I want you."

And then he leaned in and met her lips with his, feeling her tears wet his cheek. He heard her exhale in shock, and then inhale and press harder against him. And just as soon as she had started crying, she stopped, and all was quiet but for their heavy breath.