Young and Dumb| Part One| Scott Reed
Clambering off from on top of the baseball player, you nestled into the covers beside him, trying to hide your face in the white sheets. There was so much sweat on your face that had spread because of a certain activity the pair of you had been doing together, and you attempted to wipe it away, but Scott grabbed your arm.
“Don’t.” He pecked your nose, turning on his side to get a better look at you. “You’re glowing.”
At that you laughed which brought a smile upon his face. He knew you were worried, and terrified, and it was pleasant to see you feel something else for a few minutes. But it wouldn’t last, he knew that.
The buzzing of your phone happened as he expected an interruption, and you were quick to lean over to his bedside table and grab the device, unlocking it with your pin.
“It’s Ryan.” You said and he sighed. He was glad you had trusted him enough to fill him in on the truth, but the entire ordeal was consuming your life. It was like you had no time for the two of you anymore. But this was a serious situation, with allegations from a dead girl, it all had to be done.
“What did he want?” His arm flew over his eyes, rubbing the exhaustion from out of them as he shuffled atop of his mattress. He’d rather stay nude in bed with you, but he had a feeling the exposure wouldn’t last much longer.
“He wants to meet at Monets.” He groaned at that, mentally cursing the poet for making your moment together eventually bittersweet. His frustration only grew as you stood, sweeping his floor for your discarded clothes.
“I thought Sunday was supposed to be the day of rest.” Scott said, against leaving the comfort of his duvet, but knew that he would be obliged to.
“Babe, Clay has the tapes, this has got to be important.” Hannah’s tapes were in his hands, and you all dreaded what he would do with them. He was going through them slowly, slower than the rest of you had, taking his time to let the details and cold hard truths sink in. But that was not all, he was sieving through the blamed, making them choke on Hannah’s words, threatening them with all he had learnt. “You don’t have to come, you can wait here until I come back…”
You sat beside his reclined body on the bed, stroking his arm suggestively. His skin was still warm, and it almost lulled you back into his sheets, although you had to put yourself first. Hannah Baker had put you in a compromising position.
Scott sat up, with his legs still outstretched. His hand came up and cupped your face, stroking your cheek softly.
“Or I could come with you and we an get back into bed later, together.” You sighed at his words but knew that you were incapable of denying him.
“Fine.” Giving in and leaning further into his palm, you grinned at him. “But before we do, put some clothes on. I don’t need Ryan goddamn Shaver eyeing you up like a piece of meat.”
/////////
Scott shifted in the seat beside you, all too aware of Courtney’s glare towards him. Zach and Justin weren’t at all bothered by his presence, he was their brother on the field. Alex looked at you, squinting his bruised eye.
“I thought we weren’t telling anyone about the tapes (Y/N).” Clearly, Standall was not the happiest of you inviting your boyfriend to your secret meeting.
“This isn’t about me Alex, Clay has the tapes. We should be focusing on that.” Scott’s hand found your own beneath the table, giving it a tight squeeze away from everyone’s eyes.
“You’re wrong.” Ryan informed you, reclining back into his chair. You were sure you couldn’t count how many times the teenager had told you that in your high school life.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Your boyfriend sat up straighter, coming to your defence in an instant.
“As your lovely girlfriend just said pretty boy, Clay has the tapes.” Ryan looked between the two of you. “It was only a matter of time until Clay got to yours.”
For a moment you had forgotten to breathe. You were next to be hassled in the hallway and exposed to the entire school. You were popular, your reputation would be on the line and so would any dignity that you had left.
“Shit.” You shook your head, nervous for the outcome. It was Monday tomorrow. That would mean that you would see the Jensen kid, and he would undoubtedly see you.
“What do we do?” Scott asked in your place, desperate for a literal response.
“Stay quiet to whatever he says. He’s going off a dead girl’s words.” Justin told the two of you. “And Scottie, as far as he knows, you know nothing. Keep it that way, we can use that to our advantage if we have to.”
///////////
The halls were daunting, as was walking alongside Bryce into school. But everything had to appear normal, as though you had never listened to Hannah’s voice after her suicide. Like you were erasing everything you had learnt from her story, including that Bryce Walker was a rapist.
Scott kept his arm around your waist, even as you opened your locker. His head studied each student that passed. Clay wouldn’t be stupid enough to come over just now, not when your boyfriend, Monty, Zach, Justin and Bryce were crowded around you. That itself would be the same tragedy that Hannah had committed.
And then he saw the boy with his headphones on, glancing at his locker and then over to where the lot of you were standing. He was listening to it, your tape, and he’d be damned if he were to let you get away with what you had done.
“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), miss perfect of the school. Every girl in the school envies you, all the guys want you. If you’re listening to this, I’m sure you wouldn’t see a downside to the head cheerleader, but trust me, you don’t know her like I do.
On the outside, she looks and acts perfect. But inside is where it gets messy. There’s things I won’t delve into, things that you told me, and I will respect that trust you had in me, although not everything will stay in the dark.
It will all come to light, the poison will seep from the wound you left on me.”
Clay squinted as he saw you and then the bell rang. It had convenient timing, and although it would delay him, it wouldn’t stop him.