Mr. Porter, let’s see how you do.

The sound of Velcro tearing apart. Then stuffing. She’s shoving the recorder into something. A backpack? Her jacket?

She knocks.

And knocks again.

– Hannah. Glad you made it.

The voice is muffled, but it’s him. Deep, but friendly.

– Come in. Sit here.

Thank you.

Our English teacher, but also the guidance counselor for students with last names A through G. Hannah Baker’s guidance counselor.

– Are you comfortable? Do you want some water?

I’m fine. Thank you.

– So, Hannah, how can I help you? What would you like to talk about?

Well, that’s…I don’t know, really. Just everything, I guess.

– That might take a while.

A long pause. Too long.

– Hannah, it’s okay. I’ve got as much time as you need. Whenever you’re ready.

It’s just…things. Everything’s so hard right now.

Her voice is shaky.

I don’t know where to begin. I mean, I kind of do. But there’s so much and I don’t know how to sum it all up.

– You don’t need to sum it all up. Why don’t we begin with how you’re feeling today.

Right now?

– Right now.

Right now I feel lost, I guess. Sort of empty.

– Empty how?

Just empty. Just nothing. I don’t care anymore.

– About?

Make her tell you. Keep asking questions, but make her tell you.

About anything. School. Myself. The people in my school.

– What about your friends?

You’re going to have to define “friends” if you want an answer to that question.

– Don’t tell me you don’t have friends, Hannah. I see you in the halls.

Seriously, I need a definition. How do you know what a friend is?

– Someone you can turn to when…

Then I don’t have any. That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? I’m turning to you.

– Yes. You are. And I’m glad you’re here, Hannah.

I crawl across the second platform and kneel beside an opening in the bars. An opening big enough for people to crawl through to reach the slide.

You don’t know how hard it was to set up this meeting.

– My schedule’s been fairly open this week.

Not hard to schedule. Hard to get myself here.

Moonlight catches the smooth metal of the slide. I can imagine Hannah here, about two years ago, pushing off and sliding down.

Slipping away.

– Again, I’m glad that you’re here, Hannah. So tell me, when you leave this office, how do you want things to be different for you?

You mean, how can you help?

– Yes.

I guess I…I don’t know. I’m not sure what I’m expecting.

– Well, what do you need right now that you’re not getting? Let’s start there.

I need it to stop.

– You need what to stop?

I need everything to stop. People. Life.

I push myself back from the slide.

– Hannah, do you know what you just said?

She knows what she said, Mr. Porter. She wants you to notice what she said and help her.

– You said you wanted life to stop, Hannah. Your life?

No response.

– Is that what you meant to say, Hannah? Those are very serious words, you know.

She knows every word that comes out of her mouth, Mr. Porter. She knows they’re serious words. Do something!

I know. They are. I’m sorry.

Don’t apologize. Talk to him!

I don’t want my life to end. That’s why I’m here.

– So what happened, Hannah? How did we get here?

We? Or how did I get here?

– You, Hannah. How did you get to this point? I know you can’t sum it all up. It’s the snowball effect, am I right?

Yes. The snowball effect. That’s what she’s been calling it.

– It’s one thing on top of another. It’s too much, isn’t it?

It’s too hard.

– Life?

Another pause.

I grab onto the outer bars of the rocket and pull myself up. My bandaged hand hurts. It stings to put my weight on it, but I don’t care.

– Here. Take this. An entire box of tissues just for you. Never been used.

A laugh. He got her to laugh!

Thank you.

– Let’s talk about school, Hannah. So I can get some idea how we-I’m sorry-how you got to this point.

Okay.

I start climbing to the top level.

– When you think of school, what’s the first thing that comes to mind?

Learning, I guess.

– Well, that’s good to hear.

I’m kidding.

Now Mr. Porter laughs.

I do learn here, but that’s not what school is for me.

– Then what is it for you?

A place. Just a place filled with people that I’m required to be with.

I sit on the top platform.

– And that’s hard for you?

At times.

– With certain people, or people in general?

With certain people. But also…everyone.

– Can you be a little more specific?

I scoot backward across the platform and lean against the metal steering wheel. Above the tree line, the half-moon is almost too bright to look at.

It’s hard because I don’t know who’s going to…you know…get me next. Or how.

– What do you mean, “get” you?

Not like a conspiracy or anything. But it feels like I never know when something’s going to pop out of the woodwork.

– And get you?

I know, it sounds silly.

– Then explain.

It’s hard to explain unless you’ve heard some of the rumors about me.

– I haven’t. Teachers, especially a teacher moonlighting as a counselor, tend to get left out of student gossip. Not that we don’t have our own gossip.

About you?

He laughs.

– It depends. What have you heard?

Nothing. I’m joking.

– But you’ll tell me if you hear anything.

I promise.

Don’t joke, Mr. Porter. Help her. Get back to Hannah. Please.

– When was the last time a rumor…popped up?

See, that’s it. Not all of them are rumors.

– Okay.

No. Listen…

Please listen.

Years ago I was voted…you know, in one of those polls. Well, not really a poll, but someone’s stupid idea of a list. A best-of and worst-of thing.

He doesn’t respond. Did he see it? Does he know what she’s talking about?

And people have been reacting to it ever since.

– When was the last time?

I hear her pull a tissue from the box.

Recently. At a party. I swear, one of the worst nights of my life.

– Because of a rumor?

So much more than a rumor. But partly, yes.

– Can I ask what happened at this party?

It wasn’t really during the party. It was after.

– Okay, Hannah, can we play Twenty Questions?

What?

– Sometimes it’s hard for people to open up, even to a counselor where everything is strictly confidential.

Okay.

– So, can we play Twenty Questions?

Yes.

– At this party you mentioned, are we talking about a boy?

Yes. But again, it wasn’t during the party.

– I understand that. But we need to start somewhere.

Okay.

He exhales deeply.

– I’m not going to judge you, Hannah, but did anything happen that night that you regret?

Yes.

I stand up and walk to the outer bars of the rocket. Wrapping my hands around two of the bars, I touch my face to the empty space between them.

– Did anything happen with this boy-and you can be totally honest with me, Hannah-did anything happen that might be considered illegal?

You mean rape? No. I don’t think so.

– Why don’t you know?

Because there were circumstances.

– Alcohol?

Maybe, but not with me.

– Drugs?

No, just more circumstances.

– Are you thinking of pressing charges?

No. I’m…no.

I exhale a full breath of air.

– Then what are your options?

I don’t know.

Tell her, Mr. Porter. Tell her what her options are.

– What can we do to solve this problem, Hannah? Together.

Nothing. It’s over.

– Something needs to be done, Hannah. Something needs to change for you.

I know. But what are my options? I need you to tell me.