Valentina Anderson tried to end her life on the same day as Hannah Baker, but survived to face a world unraveling with secrets. She never imagined her life would be defined by loss. First, it was Jeff Atkins, the love of her life, tragically taken i...
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I went to school as usual, blending into the background as I always did, but today was different. Walking down the hallway, I saw Clay approaching with an energy I hadn’t seen in him for a while. He was smiling, greeting people like Bryce, Sheri, and even Jessica and Justin. It was almost unnerving.
"Clay?" I thought to myself. Wasn’t this the same guy who was an emotional wreck just two days ago? Yesterday, he caused a scene at the basketball court, looking lost and broken. And now, he was... cheerful?
He walked toward me with that same enthusiasm.
"Valentina!" he called out, his voice light, almost playful.
"Hey..." I started, confused by his sudden shift. But before I could say anything, Clay grabbed my hand and spun me in a circle like we were in some kind of old movie.
"See you in class!" he said with a wide grin, leaving as quickly as he appeared.
I stood there, dumbfounded, feeling eyes on me. Jessica and Justin were staring too, equally confused by his behavior. I muttered to myself, "What the hell just happened?" Something had clearly changed in Clay, but I had no idea what.
When I got to class, I found Clay sitting next to me, but the exuberance from earlier had vanished. He seemed distracted now, distant.
Mrs. Bradley handed out papers, calling it a "character-building questionnaire."
Pratters, ever the smartass, couldn’t help himself. "Thought you said this wasn’t a test. 'Cause this looks like a test," he said, making a few kids around him snicker.
"It’s not, Mr. Pratters," Mrs. Bradley replied in that overly patient tone of hers. "It’s an assessment of personal strengths and weaknesses."
I stared at the paper in front of me. It felt pointless. How could I care about my "personal strengths" when Jeff was gone? I glanced over at Clay. He was looking at his paper like it held some kind of secret, but the tension in his face was unmistakable. Something was coming.
Out of nowhere, Clay raised his hand.
"Excuse me, Mrs. Bradley?"
"Yes, Clay?" she responded, curious.
"How important was it to you to help Hannah Baker?" he asked, his voice carrying a seriousness that had everyone in the room turn to look at him.
Hannah Baker? Why was he bringing her up now? My mind raced, trying to make sense of it.
Mrs. Bradley blinked, clearly taken aback by the question. "Extremely important to me, Clay. Why do you ask?"
Clay leaned forward slightly. "Remember that note you got in your bag last year? The one about not feeling anything anymore?"
A chill ran down my spine as I tried to recall what he was talking about. And then it hit me—the note. I remembered it now.
"It was from Hannah," Clay said quietly, but loud enough for me to hear.
