High school was never easy, but having Hannah Baker as your best friend made it bearable. She was your safe place, the person who could make even the worst days feel lighter with a sarcastic joke or that soft smile of hers. You two did everything together—late-night milkshakes at the diner, long walks with earbuds shared, secrets spilled under flickering streetlights.

But things started to shift when Rafe Cameron transferred into your school. He was money and arrogance wrapped in a smile that made everyone stare. People were drawn to him the way moths are to fire—dangerous, mesmerizing, but destined to burn. You weren’t fooled by the charm; you saw the way his temper flared in the hallways, the careless cruelty in the way he talked to people.

And unfortunately, he noticed Hannah.

It started small. Flirtatious comments in the cafeteria, lingering looks in class. Hannah brushed it off at first, rolling her eyes, joking about how “guys like him never mean well.” But you saw the way her laughter didn’t quite reach her eyes. Rafe wasn’t the kind of boy you could ignore.

Soon, the whispers started. Ugly rumors that spread through your school like poison—about Hannah, about what she supposedly did, who she supposedly was. And at the center of it all, Rafe. He didn’t even need to say much; just a sly comment, a smirk at the right time, and suddenly everyone was talking.

You tried to fight for her. You stood up in crowded hallways, you shouted at the people who laughed, you even confronted Rafe once.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you demanded, shoving him in the parking lot after school.

He smirked, tilting his head like you were amusing. “Relax. It’s just fun. If your friend can’t handle a little talk, maybe she’s not as innocent as she looks.”

You hated him in that moment. Hated how untouchable he seemed, how no one ever made him face consequences.

But Hannah—Hannah was the one who carried the weight of it all.

You tried to be enough for her. Tried to remind her she wasn’t alone. You sat with her when she cried, told her that rumors weren’t truth, that you loved her, that she mattered. But no matter how many times you said it, you couldn’t silence the noise of everyone else.

And then came the day everything fell apart.

When you heard what Hannah had done, it felt like the air had been ripped from your lungs. The world blurred. Your best friend, the girl who had been your anchor, was gone.

At the funeral, you couldn’t stop staring at the coffin, your chest aching with words you never got to say. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Rafe lingering near the back, expression unreadable. Not grieving, not apologetic—just… watching. And that broke something inside you.

Because Hannah deserved so much better.

And you would never forgive him.

You carried her memory with you after that, every laugh, every secret, every time she reminded you that you weren’t alone. And even though the world kept spinning, even though people eventually stopped whispering about Hannah Baker, you never forgot.

She was your best friend. And losing her was the kind of pain that didn’t fade—it just lived inside you, like a scar you could never hide.