Katherine, why does Carson say that you're the one that killed him? I inquired in my head as we drove down the road. The sun was close to setting, and the November breeze was carrying crisp, brown leaves down the road. Katherine was busy resting her head against the window and breathing onto the glass. She would proceed to trace shapes onto the foggy window: first a kitten, then a basketball, and then a crude spaceship rocketing to the moon.

"Katherine...," I began, attempting to find the words.

"Mmm?" she mumbled in response. I sighed, putting my blinker on and cautiously pulling over onto the side of the road. "What's going on, Avery?"

I found the website that Dakota had presented me earlier. The Girl Who Killed Me. I silently handed Katherine the phone and watched her observe the photo and analyze the caption. "What's this?" she squeaked out.

"I think you know what it is, Kat," I replied.

"That...that doesn't even look like me anymore," Katherine murmured. I had to agree: my friend either flipped from being quiet as a mouse to being angry like a madman. The girl in the picture, though?--that vicious smile and wilted rose belonged to someone from a long, long time ago.

"You see that caption, Kat?"

"Yeah...yeah, I see it."

"What's it mean, Kat?" A car zoomed by us, breaking the deafening silence that had permeated the car.

"He look that picture when we were at the carnival. The Ferris wheel is blurred in the back, if you can make it out. He found that rose discarded from someone's bouquet--someone had gotten married there that day, it was really cute--and told me to hold it. I told him not to take a picture because his camera would get wet and break, and that would mean he would have to buy a new one. He didn't care. He said the best pictures were taken in the rain. So then he told me to smile. I...I didn't know that my smile looked like that. It scared me a little bit, to be honest.

"I don't know why he captioned it like that, Avery. Must've just been something artsy, you know? Something ironic or sad." She looked at me with dolorous eyes, her woebegone expression causing my heart to break. The heartsick girl that was in front of me was still mourning, and I had the audacity to imply that she killed her boyfriend? Anyone could've done it, I reminded myself. Even Kat. Even my friend. "You don't think I killed him, do you, Avery?"

"O-of course I don't, Kat. I just was wondering, that's all." I put the car back into drive and casually rolled down the street.

"Avery?"

"Yeah?"

"You're a bad liar," she muttered, and went back to her drawings, drawing rudimentary stars on my car's window. "I still love you, though."

"Love you too, Kat." Love you too.

Mr. Summers waved to me from the car as he wrapped an arm around his daughter. She smiled back at me. It was void of any spite, and it made me want to punch myself.

Their friendliness left a pit in my stomach as I drove away.

After dinner (a local Mexican restaurant that Mom was obsessed with), I texted Liam.

8:23 pm
guess who got into college??

8:28 pm
you??

8:28 pm
yup!!!

8:36 pm
yay!!! we'll celebrate tomorrow :D

8:36 pm
can you come over tonight?

8:49 pm
not tonight, sorry! but I'll come and pick you up tomorrow, promise

8:49 pm
okay, great! goodnight!

I waited for a reply, but it never came. He must be really busy, I thought with a shrug. He was probably doing homework that I also should've been doing, but that night, I really couldn't be bothered. There were more important things that one grade that I would miss.

As I closed the door to my room, I thought back to the tombstone that I had seen. Rory Masefield, I pondered. I decided to Google his name and see it any results came up.

Search: Rory Masefield

Rory Masefield Facebook Profile

@roryfields on Twitter

Search: Rory Masefield, Eldbourne PA

NEWS: Young Teen Arrested, Developments in Carson Harris's Murder (It was when I read that title that I was part-elated that I wasn't keeping up with the news, as well as part-intrigued of what the media said about the case.)

Search: Rory Masefield, Eldbourne PA 2009

Rory Masefield Jailed After Drunk Driving Takes Life, Injures Another

"Bingo," I celebrated to no one but myself. I clicked the link and proceeded to read.

Rory Masefield Jailed After Murdering Wife and His Drunk Driving Takes Life

Sabrina Masefield, mother of Xander Masefield and wife of Rory Masefield, was discovered dead with a gunshot wound to the head. Police immediately suspected husband Rory Masefield, whom the neighbors had been calling noise complaints about. After discovering Masefield, age 56, drunk at a local bar, he was arrested after a long night of drinking and lengthy car chase. In the car with him was his 12-year-old son Xander, who was uninjured in the crash that occurred November 2nd. The police were unable to open-fire on the vehicle, as they could not put the young boy in harm. The victims of the crash--

Incoming call from Landon:
Accept/Deny

"Hey, Landon," I greeted, suppressing a groan.

"Hi, Avery. I just wanted to, um...apologize, after the way I was acting."

"Thanks, but I'd honestly rather prefer an explanation over an apology right now," I curtly replied, folding my arms against my chest. I was so genuinely worried and upset with Landon. He had never done anything like his recent actions in all of our years of friendship. He had never, for lack of a better term, been such an ass before.

"I...I can't right now, Avery. Just trust me, okay?" he begged.

"You don't even have the balls to lie to me?" I retorted. "Nothing? I can't trust you right now, Landon. How can you ask me to do that?"

"Because you're my best friend, Avery. My best friend in the whole wide world. I'd die for you, Avery. Don't you know that?"

"Don't you know that I've never lied to you, Landon?" Silence. "So why are you lying to me right now?"

"I'm not lying when I say I don't know how to tell you how much of a mess I am right now."

"Why, Landon?" My chest was welling up as I clutched my knees closer to chest. I shut my eyes tight and demanded, "Why?"

"It's...it's college, Avery."

"College?"

"Well, I...only my parents know, but I'm trying to get into Julliard."

"Really, Landon?" I inquired, wiping away the tears struggling to wriggle free from my eyes.

"Yeah, and it's been really stressing me out lately. So I went to Hunter to buy some pot off of him."

"Really?"

"Yeah...yeah, really," Landon reaffirmed.

"Okay, Landon. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Will I see you tomorrow?"

"Hopefully. Goodnight, Landon."

"Goodnight, Avery."

I clicked our conversation off and whispered to him from my house to his: "Thank you for lying to me." Maybe Landon wasn't lying. Maybe he really was just stressed. And maybe Katherine was just crestfallen at Carson and didn't kill him. And maybe Pierce was really just my lawyer and not a suspect. And maybe Liam really was busy. And maybe Dakota was going to get a better girlfriend.

And maybe Carson Harris was going to wake up in the morning, waving his dad goodbye to work and enjoying pancakes that his mom had made him.

And maybe, in another life, we were all fine.

I decided that I needed to make one more call before I went to sleep. "Pick up, pick up, pick--Pierce?"

"Yes, Avery?" he replied, his drawl droning on longer than usual. Must've just finished drinking, I figured.

"Can you tell me everything you know about Rory Masefield?" I asked, recalling that Pierce claimed that he was the one that put Xander's father away in the first place. I could feel his anger seep over his line onto mine. "Why do you hate him so much?"

"Why do you need to know about him?" he countered.

"I--I just thought that maybe knowing more about Xander's situation would help me learn why he would want to kill Carson or hurt Katherine--"

"You thought wrong, Avery," Pierce cut in. "Don't ask me again."

"But I--"

"Please," Pierce suddenly said. Please? "Please don't ask me again."

"I--okay, Pierce. Okay." I realized I could've used the favor he owed me to squeeze the information out of him, but it didn't seem too important. "Goodnight, Pierce." Katherine thinks he did it. Thinks he's a liar.

At least I know he's a liar.

"Night, kid," he said, abruptly ending our conversation.

And maybe there was a time when nobody lied to me, I thought as I rested my head on my pillow and switched my lamp off for the night.