#scottreed

Hanging out with Scott Reed includes

not always being alone (probably Monty, Bryce, and maybe Zach around)

doing something dumb like drinking or smoking

making out (Monty and Bryce definitely hype up the pda)

cuddling

him telling you he loves you

talking about sports (aka baseball and football)

watching something of your choice on the tv

if ur alone there maybe some sexy time

forcing him to break up with you (he doesn’t want to) so you can listen to Red (Taylor’s Version) so you can feel the pain

laughing at him because you made him learn a tiktok dance and he didn’t get it like 20 times

Clay Jensen, there were many ways that you could describe the boy. As expected by many at school, he was a massive nerd, the posters on his bedroom wall served as evidence for that fact. He was smart as well, most of the time overthinking things, including people.

He had a theory that the baseball player Scott Reed was like all of the other members of his team, but you knew the truth. The boy was no rapist or pervert, nor was Zach for that matter. He was sweet and enjoyed taking his significant other to the movies and sneaking little heartfelt notes into their locker.

How did you know this? Because you were his significant other, and to your luck, your brother so happened to be extremely overprotective and your boyfriend’s biggest hater. If he knew that Scott Reed was currently sat on your bed with a calculus book in his hand, you were sure a window would be smashed or something ridiculous like that.

Your mum and dad were aware that the boy was over, just not of your private relation to him. You prayed one day that your brother would chill and that you could tell your family about it with no dramatic reactions.

“I just don’t get it.” You groaned, burying your head into one of your pillows. Scott smirked at your reaction, shaking his head in amusement.

“Maybe you would if you stopped getting so distracted Jensen.” At this, you removed your head from the cushion, glaring up at the attractive boy with spite in your eyes.

“It’s not my fault that my tutor is the one distracting me.” The simplest thing was that you could do was blame him, because it was the truth after all. His eyes were captivating, pulling you into their hazel depths, making you never want to look away as they shone brighter.

He was not just another jock, as Clay thought. They were typically crude and perverted to the girls that crossed their paths. Exemplary people would be Bryce Walker, the rich boy with almost too much money to spend. This gave him the want for nothing, and ended with the desire for one thing that he could not control – other people’s bodies, whether they gave consent or not. And then there was Montgomery de la Cruz, the teen with raging anger issues and a tendency to inject himself with minerals that affected his performance on the field.

But Scott, as cliché as it may have sounded, was different. He liked dates at Monet’s over Rosie’s, the whole atmosphere was different. Quieter.

“Well, have you got any ideas how I can undistract you?” At his words and smirk, you scoffed, disappointed in his intellect. He was your tutor, and yet he was oblivious to his own Grammarly mistakes.

“Undistract is not a word.” You tapped his nose with the bottom of your pen, laughing lightly at the frown that settled upon his tanned face. And then he began to lean in, coming closer to the space surrounding your face, and you would have openly kissed him if your bedroom door had not opened, revealing the act that the pair of you were about to take part in.

“Dad!” You exclaimed, shuffling away from Scott, offended by his lack of manners. He could have at least knocked. Sighing at his raised eyebrows, you finally spoke. “What is it?”

A blush had rose upon Scott’s cheeks. This was not the impression that he had wanted to give. He was supposed to be helping you study, and yet your parent had discovered him attempting to make a move, in your bedroom, with the door closed and the curtains drawn. That was not embarrassing at all…

“Sorry to have disturbed… whatever is going on here.” Honestly, your father could not have been more awkward, but that was nothing new. “But dinner’s ready, mum wanted me to come and get you two.”

Dropping your pen dramatically on your bed, making sure that the lid was on so that you wouldn’t get any ink on your duvet cover, you arose, Scott copying your actions. The walk downstairs was quiet, and so was Clay once the two of you seated yourselves in the kitchen.

Scott was besides you, and Clay opposite, and he was glaring daggers at your secret boyfriend. “Thankyou Mrs Jensen.” Scott smiled at your mother as she placed the plate down in front of him, and Clay rolled his eyes at his politeness. He was sure that this was all an act, configured in a plan of Bryce’s to get back at him for that night that he went to visit him with the recorder. The last thing that he wanted was you to be hurt because of his own dedication to Hannah, or hurt in general.

“I approve of your tutor.” She winked at you, making you slink down in your seat and Scott laugh nervously. You should have known that your father would not have stayed silent, this was inevitable. Your parents practically told each other everything, except when your mum was working on a private case, such as details about the current Baker one.

“You should have seen them, they were close to kissing when I got up there.” Your dad laughed, paying no mind to the fact that you were near on a puddle on the ground. Scott rubbed the back of his neck, and Clay, well Clay grew redder than the devil, angered by your betrayal.

“He’s friends with Bryce.” He reminded you strongly, causing the entire room to turn silent.

“But he’s nothing like him. Scott only hangs around with those assholes because of sports, same as Zach. If you can understand his side, then you surely can understand my boyfriend’s, you just don’t want to.”

And that’s when you realised by your brother’s reaction, that you had just let your personal matters slip. “Boyfriend?” He all but shouted, standing from his seat and pacing.

“Yes, my boyfriend.” You confirmed, feeling bad for putting Scott in this position, but Clay had to accept the truth.

“Clay, I would never let anyone hurt her.” He tried to relax him by confirming that fact, but it only seemed to have the effect of riling him up further.

“But you’ve stayed mute about Bryce raping any other girl. What are you, scared of him? Because you should be, he could fuck up your entire life. He did so to Hannah’s, and she wasn’t the only one! How can you say that you won’t let your friend hurt my little sister when your close enough to him liken Justin was with Jessica?”

If this was the path that Clay was going down, you knew one thing that would make him stop. His secret. The one thing of many that he had been hiding from your parents. He was trying to drag Scott down before their eyes, and visibly it was working, from the tears that were lining the insides of his eyes and the bobbing of his Adam’s apple. So you would use some reverse psychology in return.

“What would Justin say to that analogy?” You wondered, receiving a silent glare from Clay telling you to shut your mouth. “Maybe I should go upstairs and get him.” You turned to your parents mindlessly before sparing them a note of information that they weren’t aware of. “Oh yeah, by the way, Clay’s been hiding Justin upstairs, detoxing him and keeping him locked up before over two weeks.” And then you would have focused back on your brother, if it weren’t for Scott.

“I believe I first met you in my parents’ pharmacy. I’m sure you don’t need the map to find it, everyone has the knowledge of where it is.  I was helping my mum restock the shelves, and you came in with a black hoodie and sunglasses on. Obviously, you didn’t want to be recognised, or maybe you did, who knows.

I asked if there was anything you needed help with, and your eyes went wide behind the expensive frames. From your posture, it was clear that you were unsettled by something. This something meant a lot to you, and you were nervous in telling me, a stranger.

It had only been the first week or two of school since I moved, so I didn’t blame you for that. The blame comes later on in this story. But I took an interest in you, not when you were getting all of that attention that you seemed to draw instantly when you walked through the halls of school, but when you were trying your best to avoid any of it.

I know that you knew who I was, you knew Justin, and Zach… and Bryce. You also seemed to become Jessica’s new bestie when we split ways, in a strange way, when the two of you connected, I felt as though you had stolen something from me.

But again, it was her choice to invite you to her house to study, and invite her to the parties that she threw. Courtney even told me that Jess always asked you what she should wear before they started, and now I understand how her fashion had improved significantly.”

Clay paused the tape as Tony pulled up beside him, and the teenager instinctively threw the door open and climbed into the passenger’s side. He pushed the headphones down to his neck as he looked at his friend, who appeared to be studying him far too closely for his liking.

“What?” He breathed, throwing his head back into the seat of the vehicle. Everyone was watching him, they had all had the tapes before him, so they knew that he was listening to their sins. And then also, they knew his. Both sides held the ammunition, even more so since he had yet to discover the case against him.

“Which tape are you on?” Tony was blunt, but he had an idea as he saw Clay’s interest as you walked out of the front doors, Jess on one side and Sheri on your other. It had to be one of you three, yet he was aware of how slow Clay was processing each record of information.

“12 side A.” He answered, his blue eyes drilling into you as you threw your head back in laughter. It wasn’t fair that you had the ability and will to do that after everything, Hannah was still waiting to be buried. Sometimes people were too inconsiderate of those who were lower down on the social food chain than them.

“Don’t judge her before you hear the entire tape. It’s complicated, and messy, and Hannah was not the only victim.” That intel made Clay’s eyes widen in fear. There had been another victim exposed on this tape, and it was disgusting, cruel. Evil.

“Not like Jess was?”

“God no. Thank God no.” Tony answered, looking in his side mirror as you walked away, and joined your boyfriend in his car. “But you better buckle up Clay, that side of the tape is long. Hannah sure had a lot of things to say about (Y/N), some good. Others not so much…”

Clay took out the tape from the player and inserted it in the car. If it was complicated, then Tony could explain it to him. He would still get mad and require a word in private with you, but he needed another opinion. One from an outsider, from someone who didn’t know Hannah as well, although, admittedly Clay didn’t know as much about her as he would have liked to have thought.

“That day though, when we first met gave me the impression that you didn’t thrive off of all of the attention. You liked your alone time, which I could relate to, more than anyone would know. It made me think that no one knew the real you, but I wanted to.

‘Can I help with anything?’ I asked, expecting you to be confident like you were with answers in class, but instead you wrung your hands, and your mouth opened repeatedly, trying to find words but somehow you had lost them. ‘(Y/N).’ I said, which caught your attention finally.

Your disguise clearly had not worked, so you removed the shades, but the hood stayed up. I was relieved to see the lack of a black eye or tears, I knew from then on that you just felt awkward. This was not a predicament that you had found yourself in before.

‘Actually, I’m looking for something’ It was more of a mumble that clear speech, but I still heard, and was happy that I did. I wanted to help, then maybe I could befriend you, and then change my image at Liberty.

‘What?’ Before you answered, you looked terrified, so I grabbed your hands and held them. It seemed to calm you a little, but you still had the instinct to look around to check for other people. My mum had went to the back to grab more stock, so it was just us. You and me, but now I speak this stood alone. There is no one here, just cold walls that don’t even want to move closer to me.

So, those of you who are listening, you can already tell that she created distance between me and her. I bet no one even knew that you had been a great support system once, until it was decided that we should keep our space.

‘Condoms.’ Was your quiet response, you appeared uncomfortable in saying it. At that time or before, I would have assumed that you had no problem with purchasing the contraception, seeing as everyone was far too familiar with you and Scott Reed in the hallways.

‘This way.’ I led you, and it got me thinking. Had you never bought a box before? Was it Scott’s duty that he had failed to uphold, and here you were, running in, when you were in the most need for one?

We got to the aisle, and you haphazardly stared at the selection of the stock. Your eyes were wide, and your mind was turning. ‘Are you okay?’

At my voice you smiled, looking back and forth between me and your necessity. And finally you told me your problem, which did not seem to be troublesome at all. But this was where it all started, it finishes somewhere very different. 

‘I, uh, don’t know which ones to get.’ You appeared embarrassed in confiding this in me, and it really did make me think that you left the buying of them to Scott, until... ‘Me and Scott have never... you know. This was supposed to be a surprise, clearly not a very good one if I don’t know what frickin condoms to but.’

You were definitely embarrassed, your hands were raking through your hair, and there were tears holding back in your eyes. My hand caressed your shoulder and convinced you to look at me.

‘You’re both virgins?’ I asked rather bluntly, and you nodded shamefully. But you had nothing to be ashamed of, even if the news did shock me. The two of you fooled me, and could have fooled anyone considering your relationship. ‘Hey, that’s not a bad thing.’ I was a virgin too, even if others were led to believe differently. ‘It’s all new to the both of you, he’ll love the surprise, and he’d be stupid not to.’

Maybe I shouldn’t have convinced you to go ahead with your plan, but I did anyway. In this moment, you seemed like a nice girl, one who needed guidance rather than the flocks of followers that you were prone to having.

I scanned the selection, and grabbed the most suitable brand. ‘These would be best, just normal, like this and eventually that exchange.’

Clay paused the record as he saw that were at his house. He was astounded by the news of how late you and Scott were to blossoming sexually. There was a large difference between the pair of you and your so called friends.

“Did you know?” The investigator asked Tony, revelling in the newfound, yet old gossip.

“Don’t judge a book by it’s cover Jensen.” He told him. The boy was in for a ride, it was a long tape, for some reason, the longest one.

An end was always a new beginning. That gave you closure yet relief as you walked through the halls of Liberty, your bag holding the items that had filled your locker.

There was one of Liberty’s newspapers that you had lost in the bottom of it. Ryan was a great writer, he had the whole school hooked on his text, but this one was different. It was special.

It held the pained words of Hannah, of which he had stolen when she revealed the poem to him. He broke that trust, but he hadn’t been the only one...

The truth of the matter was that it wasn’t fair. She was no longer here, and yet the next year the lot of you would be looking at colleges, escaping the garden of Eden that the place had become.

Some already were. It was their time to leave, graduation was in a week. But yet you’d be stuck here, retaking your classes alongside Clay and Jess, as a few examples.

You’d have to wait another year until you left, but you hadn’t told anyone your results yet. In all fairness, there were multiple distractions that had caused your grades to tumble and faceplant the ground.

Hannah was the primary source for them all. It was in no way her fault, she was just telling her story and sharing out blame where it had been deserved, and that also fell on you.

Then, as a justification of that, the tapes had crazed Clay Jensen, making you walk on eggshells when you attempted to avoid him, But it had been inevitable. And then they had escaped to the public, falling into the cost of a court case.

When you exited the doors, you saw Scott leaning against his car, scrolling on his phone, oblivious to your little secret. If you avoided him, it would be clear that you were hiding something, so instead, you put on a fake smile and made your way over to him.

When he heard your footsteps, his head raised, and he pulled his keys from his pocket. He was showing you a white toothed smile, it was always so attractive and contagious, you couldn’t help but really smile after seeing it.

“Ready to go babe?” He leaned down and pecked your cheek, opening the door, yet still awaiting your answer.

“Yeah.” You wiggled under his arm with a laugh from the both of you, and he shut the door. He jogged around the front of the vehicle, getting in the driver’s side.

“I’m excited.” He told you, but just before he was about to start the ignition, you called his name, consuming all of his attention. “I can’t wait to go to college with my best girl. It’s daunting at the same time though, but we need to get away from this town.”

Just from the way he spoke showcased his excitement. He had been waiting all year for this day to come around, but it was impossible not to feel guilty for what you had done.

“Scott, I’m sorry.” It had been to irresistible not to rip open the paper, it had been mocking you from when it was sat on your bedside table. And now it was weighing your bag down, that small envelope.

“What have you got to be sorry for gorgeous?” He was worried, he hadn’t actually thought you had done something wrong. But you had.

“I know we said we’d open our letters together but... I already have.” You looked at the mat below your feet, scraping the souls of your shoes against it nervously.

“That’s okay, I get it. To be honest, I have to.” That made your stomach drop, from how he was talking, he must have already have gotten in too. He licked his lips, pursing them together whilst he awaited your response.

“I didn’t get in Scott.” You informed him, disappointed in yourself. How could you have been so dumb?

“Neither did I.” He mirrored your confession, grasping your hands. “So this is it, you and me. We retake, and then we can go and continue on with our lives outside of this shitty town.”

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.”

Summary: Whilst looking for evidence, you and Scott end up in a closet. It leaves the both of you time to mull over emotions as you wait to leave.

Someone had been leaving Clay polaroids. Disgusting ones, that did declare Bryce Walker a rapist, but that was what he was. They were evidence.

"You want me to what?" You asked Clay again, so that you could be sure you heard him right.

Ever since Hannah died, he was willing to go to extremes. No matter who got in the crossfire.

"Stay at school overnight, to see if anyone leaves a photo in my locker again." Why could he not do it?

You hated Liberty as it was, being locked in here when it was dark was not going to help. "You thought it was Reed, so why not just ask him?"

Scott Reed, the jock who hung out with Bryce Walker. He wasn't all bad, but he was a jock nonetheless.

Jocks carried a toxicity with them, wherever they went. Scott was no different. He couldn't be. He was a hormonal teenage boy like the rest of them, thinking with his dick rather than his brain.

"Of Bryce." You finished for him.

"I can't lose the chance of no more photos being left." Clay answered your question, his voice lowered so that this conversation was strictly between the two of you. People at liberty always stuck their noses in places they didn't belong, hence why Hannah was dead. "If it is him, he's scared."

It wasn't a surprise. The Walkers were a powerful family, using their wealth and reputation to bend the rules.

"Scared." You laughed. Sure Scott seemed different, but they were all the same. For all the two of you knew he was a rapist too.

It wasn't like Bryce just allowed goody two shoes' in the clubhouse. Even the mention of that place sent riddled shivers up your spine. "I'll do it, but only to prove you wrong."

If there was anything you loved more than watching the popular sports players getting their asses kicked, it was correcting Clay.

The boy always was so certain on things. But he wasn't right every time. It was impossible to be.

You walked with the boy to the cafeteria, finding Zach, whom you still held a little grudge on considering his previous group, Jessica whom was one of many of Bryce Walker's victims, and Alex, who was still recovering from his suicide attempt.

Everywhere you looked, you saw the effects of jocks. A few tables away, they were seated, laughing their asses off at something that was most likely crude and immature.

Monty clearly was the instigator of whatever joke that had just been made. The guy looked so proud and smug with himself. It was ridiculous.

But Scott wasn't joining in with the amusement. His mouth was upturned a little, but his gaze was wandering around the room, as if he was trying to avoid contact with any of them despite being seated at the same table.

And then his gaze met yours, whip made you whip your head away from facing that direction.

You couldn't have him being suspicious. You had to find out first if he really was the one lending a helping hand.

"Have you done the biology work?" Zach asked you. You weren't sure why he had began to be so interested in you. It was as if he wanted to help you.

"Of course." You smirked, stabbing your fork into the food.

Zach wasn't all bad. Maybe Scott wasn't either. But they still carried the bats on their backs, like scars in their skin. They would always be jocks, no matter how kind or sweet they were.

....

You hid in the girls locker room to avoid the janitors. When the coast was clear you exited, peeking at your phone to keep an eye on the time.

Clay hadn't messaged you. He must have been assuming that you were all good. But you weren't.

You were on edge. There was no one in sight, not that you'd have been able to see them anyway, it was dark. So dark.

As you walked in the hallway, you went into a janitors closet, which you had to pick with your hairpin.

It's not that you wore them, you merely carried them for the purpose of lockpicking alone. Seeing as you weren't all as lucky as Bryce, some of you had to bend the rules yourself to just get by.

And so you peeked through the window, that was fogged with dust, only to see a silhouette wandering in the vacant hall.

Who was it, and why were they coming towards where you were hidden? You could barely see their face, so it must've have been difficult for them to spot yours.

And then the door opened, revealing Scott.

"What the fuck are you doing?" You hissed at him, not sure whether you were asking about the intrusion or the pictures.

He made no attempt to answer just yet, instead he brushed past you, closing the door after he was fully in. "The same as you."

"Well, what do you think I'm doing?" He asked much more kindly than you did.

"I know (Y/N). I heard you and Clay, and I saw him drop one of the photos the other day. I want to know who's leaving a trail of them."

He couldn't be serious. He was the only suspect you had so far, and he was dismissing that it was him.

"Why? So you can secure them for your rapist friend, so that it doesn't go to court and drag the lot of you down?" Your finger prodded his chest, taunting the possible idea.

"I'm not a rapist." His statement seemed sincere. And it was you would've been able to tell if you could see the pain in his eyes.

"Okay." You weren't completely convinced.

"Okay?" He asked incredulously. "I want this all to end, the same as you do."

"Then why do you hang with Bryce and Monty? If they're around, this shit isn't going to have an end." You heaved, angry at the boy. You had been angry at him for so long, it was like you had forgotten who he was.

"Because I'm expected to. I know things and if I left, I'd have to pay a price. A painful one."

"Some friends." You remarked.

"I know that my contact with them is why you never called me back." He was no longer focused on the dirty window, instead his gaze was on you.

"It wasn't just you, so don't be so self centred." You had a life, one that you weren't proud of. But you were changing it all around. Maybe Scott was trying to do the same, but you couldn't be sure.

"I know." He gave you a small, almost guilty smile that was lit by no light. "And now you have to go to court. But you should know that the guys are keeping an eye on you. They're aware you know more about them than you're letting on."

"I saw things Scott. I heard things, and the clarity that they are what they are doesn't make any of it better." Your anger was no longer directed at him. It was instead targeted at yourself. "Monty persuaded me that you weren't interested, that you were just playing with me as if I was some discardable toy. And then he wanted to prove he could treat me better than you could."

Pursing your lips together, you couldn't help but feel ashamed. And to know Monty was still watching you made you want to vomit.

"He didn't -"

"No Scott." You dismissed his idea. "I consented. All that I had felt from the tapes, I needed to let go somehow."

"I'm gonna kill him either way." His teeth gritted together in irritance. He had never been a fan of Monty, but now he resented the guy.

"Don't, unless you want to go to court to." You shrugged your shoulders. Court. You had to go there, explain yourself and your behaviour towards a sweet girl who you had made give up. You should have helped, not the opposite.

"What Monty said, it wasn't real. I really liked you, and he just had to fuck with it."

"I really liked you too Reed." The past tense was in the air but something else made sparks shoot through the presence.

After you spoke, the two of you launched into each other, your lips mingling together, your hands in his hair, ruffling it and his own massaging your hips.

There wasn't anything else that needed to be said. It could all just be made clear with actions. With your bodies and the desire that had lingered in them.

His tongue pressed its way into your mouth, and yours danced with it. There was a sweetness to the passion, as though Monty had never got involved.

"I have to-" You tried to break away, although you didn't want to.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to." He told you, going to pull away, but you pulled him back.

There was only a chance you would miss the anonymous suspect. So why not carry on?

Your thumb plucked at the zipped of his jeans, pulling down the metal ridges. He went to pull the denim down further, as you did the same with your own.

Both of your trousers were thrown to the floor, leaving you in your tops and undergarments. In an aroused haze, you removed your underwear and seated yourself onto the janitors trolley, that was pressed against the wall for stability.

Scott came between your legs, nudging his forehead against your own. "Tell me you want this."

He sought confirmation, and so you nodded but that wasn't enough for him. "I need to hear you say it."

"I wanted this since we first started seeing each other." The two of you had never gotten around to it due to the false rumours, but now was the moment.

His hands pushed down his boxers, and he allowed his tip to nudge at your entrance. He slid it into you, staying still for enough time to ensure you were comfortable.

You threw your head back at the sensation of the stretch. This wasn't how you had planned tonight, but you sure as hell weren't complaining.

And then he started moving, which had you stifling your noises. You had to be alert, in case the secret message came by. Even if you were to enthralled in pleasure currently.

"Fuck."

Fuck indeed. For you hadn't noticed the tall inconspicuous boy walking to Clay's locker, slipping in the polaroid and stalking away.

Zach should have known that someone would eventually start keeping watch, but from the whimpers coming through the door, you were clearly preoccupied.

"You feel so good." Scott rocked his hips before he let go inside of you, which made you unravel.

He gave a few more light thrusts before softly pulling out. "So what now?"

Scott scratched the back of his neck, before he helped you redress, and then doing so himself.

"Can I come to your hearing?" It made you Jump. It wasn't what you had been expecting.

"Scott, you said yourself that Bryce is keeping an eye on me. That's not a good idea."

He looked away, but you brought his face back towards yours with a stroke of your hand. "We should play it safe."

"I want to be there for you, because I wasn't with all that happened." He had watched you blame yourself but never comforted you. Now was his chance.

"Fine."

...

Clay stood waiting for you. "Did you see who it was?"

Shit. Why did that have to be the first thing that he asked you?

"No." You dragged the word out. "But it's not Scott."

"How do you know?"

Inspired by YUNGBLUD’s song Polygraph Eyes, obviously

Liberty was not shy of its flaws, no matter how hard some students tried to conceal them. The school practically watched a girl kill herself, nothing was done about it, only posters were put up telling those who saw it not to follow in Hannah Baker’s footsteps.

The people tore others down, whether that be intentionally or ignorantly. You had been one of those murderers on the tapes, and it made you realise your behaviour, and correct it as soon as you reached the one where Hannah criticised and blamed you.

You had been leaving your parent’s house when Clay blocked your path. He cursed you out, making you feel worse than you already did. That night you went to a party, only to find yourself alone under blue sheets with a lack of clothes. It was Courtney’s house, and she said she didn’t remember who you had slept with.

Ever since that night, Scott Reed had been watching your every move like a hawk. Clay had asked you about the attention you had been receiving seeing as you were on decent terms and in the same boat with the court events. You didn’t know, and that is what you told him.

“Did we sleep together that night?” You asked him at the end of class, wondering if he was the guy who had left you before the morning had came.

If it had been him, you wouldn’t have been mad. He was on the nicer spectrum of the jocks, and he was admittedly easy on the eyes.

As if ashamed, Scott bowed his head. There was something he was hiding, a secret he didn’t want to burden you with. It made him feel as though he would be sick now being aware of your naivety. His gut had been right about that subject.

“You don’ t remember?” The boy asked you, looking around the halls.

“No, I’m sorry.” His brows furrowed at your words, as if he was angered by what you had said to him.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Scott wanted to hug you, but the contact may not been the best thing. After all you had been - no, he didn’t want to think about the possibility that he had been speculating. “And no, it wasn’t me.” 

He left when he saw Clay heading your way, nodding at him as he parted. A part of you wouldn’t like to admit it, but you were disappointed that he had not been your partner that night.

It wasn’t something you usually did, sleeping with people outside of relationships that was. But this one occurrence was bothering you.

….

Scott sat on edge in the clubhouse. It was just him and the guys in there tonight, thank god. They all seemed chirpy, and his behaviour was easily picked up on with his rigid composure and lack of involvement in the teasing.

“Chloe must get some good shit.” Monty drank from his bottle. It was tequila, possibly. That’s what Scott thought, it had to at least be alcohol judging from its exterior. “You know, from your experience and all.”

Bryce chuckled arrogantly in response, getting up and sitting beside Scott on the couch. “I think all of us are getting more than Scotty here.” 

Perhaps it was supposed to be taken as a joke, but Scott brushed the hand Bryce had laid on his shoulder off. “Someone’s a bit touchy tonight.”

“I think (Y/N) rejected him earlier, I saw them talking.” If that was the case, Montgomery de la Cruz seemed to find it hilarious. This made Scott realise his scoping had not been as accurate as he had once thought. He thanked God that the jock hadn’t heard what the exchange was actually concerning.

“Aw.” Bryce taunted him, as did the other boys. “It’ll get better mate. A broken heart only means someone will come by and fix it.” That was cheap coming from him of all people.

“Did you sleep with her Bryce?” His voice was serious, the other boys went silent, except Monty who congratulated his best friend by encouraging him to get some.

“That doesn’t matter.” Bryce took another swig of alcohol, but noticed Scott’s staring. “Okay, once. And you’re not missing out, she’s not all that great in bed.”

Scott wasn’t sure if Bryce was trying to make him feel better or angrier. He swore he could feel the sweat beading on his forehead, tracing and trailing down the veins of his face.

“Did you sleep with her or did you rape her?” He stood from where he was seated next to the rapist. Bryce only laughed amused by her accusation.

“Why don’t you ask your little girlfriend about our get together?” 

“She asked me, seeing as she had trouble remembering who she was with that night because she was unconscious!” Bryce had to be taking the piss. It was no secret to the students what Walker was like. The tapes told his story.

“You’re going to believe that slut over me?” That was unfair. Bryce sounded offended, and he had no right to be.

“She’s not a slut, you’re just a fucking rapist.” He had gotten the confirmation he needed, so he left. Scott had to see you. You deserved the truth, as did everyone Bryce had taken advantage of.

….

Your parents had allowed Scott in. He was sat with them in the living room, discussing the sport that had got him involved with that sickening rapist.

And then you walked in the door. “(Y/N), you have a visitor.” You followed the sound of your mother’s voice, stopping in your footsteps to when you saw who was sat on the sofa.

“Scott, what are you doing here?” No one from school had never been inside your home before. It made you feel exposed, vulnerable to the population’s eye.

“I have those notes you asked to go over earlier.” His voice sounded as though he was pleading with you, asking for a moment to speak with you. You’d be a monster to decline, you thought, oblivious to who the real monster was.

“Let’s go upstairs.” He willingly followed, taking each step at a time.

“There’s no notes Scott.” You stated expectedly, curious as to why he had invaded your safe space.

“I know what happened that night.” The boy told you, digging through his bag until he pulled out something that gave you bad memories. It was a tape.

“What the hell is that Scott?” You grew nervous, scared he was mocking the pain you had caused Hannah.

“The answer.” He also pulled out a tape player, putting the tape inside. “Are you ready.” You had been ready since that night, you nodded worriedly.

It began with normal male conversation, with voices you were quick to recognise. “I think all of us are getting more than Scotty here.” It made you feel bad for him, seeing as his friends were amused by the lack of affection he received.

“Someone’s a bit touchy tonight.” So this had been recorded just before he came here. There was a moon in the sky that glowered down at the two of you, awaiting the eventual reaction you would give, where you would crumble and enclose on yourself.

“I think (Y/N) rejected him earlier, I saw them talking.” It gave you shivers that Monty had been watching the pair of you. There was no privacy in liberty it would seem, but Hannah had already told you as much.

“Aw.” Undoubtedly it was Bryce Walker. Ever since Hannah and Clay had exposed what the rapist had done to her, you felt sick every time he was mentioned. You hoped the judge struck him down, forcing him to rot in a four by four cell. “It’ll get better mate. A broken heart only means someone will come by and fix it.”

At that you paused the recording. “You like me?” Scott looked at you, sadness orbiting in his eyes.

“Yes, but that’s not what this is about.” He didn’t explain further, he only brushed your hair from your face and pressed play. “Did you sleep with her Bryce?”

That for sure sounded like your worst nightmare. You would never in a million years agree to have sex with him under many circumstances. It was hard enough knowing that Jess had been a victim of his. You didn’t want it to be that way, but every time you looked at her you saw his burning fingerprints over her body. It wasn’t fair for her.

“That doesn’t matter.” Yes it did!  “Okay, once. And you’re not missing out, she’s not all that great in bed.” There was no recollection of that in your mind. Not even once did you even think about bedding that pig. He had no idea what you were like in bed either.

“Did you sleep with her or did you rape her?” It was Scott’s voice, and it made you fearful of the possibility that it had happened.

“Turn it off.” You begged him, but he was insistent that you had to listen.

“You deserve the truth.” Was what he had specifically said. “Why don’t you ask your little girlfriend about our get together?” How Bryce had any friends, you weren’t sure, you supposed his money. It shocked you that of all people, Scott Reed stood against him, defending you and your dignity.

“She asked me, seeing as she had trouble remembering who she was with that night because she was unconscious!“ There was clear anger in Scott’s voice. Bryce had riled him up. The mention of your state made you feel as though you could be physically sick.

“You’re going to believe that slut over me?” And that was what the man who raped you saw you. A slut. He was the one who had vandalised your body and left you there for anyone to find.

“She’s not a slut, you’re just a fucking rapist.” The tape ran flat, turning to the noise of static. It was the end.

“I like you too, but I can’t be in a relationship yet after hearing that.” You were looking at him with wide, innocent eyes. His heart broke at the sight.

“And I don’t expect you to be.” He comforted you, brushing his fingers over the teardrops that fell down your face.

“What do I do after this? What do I do with this?” Scott took the tape from the player, and held it out to you.