"He said he's coming here," I rapidly explained to Katherine. "He'll be here soon. What do I do?"

"Um...play along? We need to catch him in the act," Katherine replied, clenching her fist in her other hand.

"Catch him in what act?"

"Drugs, Avery," she replied, her tone making it seem like the answer was obvious. "We need to get him to admit what he did."

"Why?"

"'Why?' Do you even care that your best friend lied to you, Avery? Do you even care that maybe--"

"What? Maybe what?"

"That maybe...Landon had something to do with Carson...," Katherine answered, her voice getting lower and lower, as if Landon could hear her.

"No, no," I denied immediately. "Landon wouldn't hurt a fly."

"Avery--"

"No," I reaffirmed. "Maybe he's doing drugs. Maybe he's a goddamn mess. But Landon is not a murderer." My phone began to buzz, and Katherine and I both locked eyes with the white screen. Landon. His goofy profile picture of him kissing me on the forehead bore itself into my mind, forcing me to recall the memory.

"Come on Avery, take a damn picture!"

"No, Landon; you know I hate pictures," I replied, folding my arms across my chest.

"Too bad!" he replied, snatching my phone out from my hands and flipping the camera. He grabbed my head and brought it closer to his face. He placed a sloppy kiss on my forehead and I grimaced.

"Landon!" I exclaimed with a pout. "You suck."

"You love me," he retorted with a wink. I couldn't help but giggle.

"Landon is not a murderer," I echoed. I averted my eyes away from Katherine's as she narrowed her forever-doleful, deep brown eyes at me. "Hi, Landon," I greeted, bringing my phone to my ear.

"Hey, Avery!" he jubilantly answered. "I'll be over in a few. Ready to go?"

"Ready as I'll ever be!" I fake-laughed.

"See ya in a bit!" I hung up on him before the conversation progressed. Love you, Landon, I concluded in my head.

"I'm gonna go," Katherine said. "You call me immediately if he does anything, okay?"

"Like what?"

"Like hurts you, Avery. I'm not letting him hurt you."

"You go do your thing, Kattie. I'll text you if I need you, and if I find out anything. Okay?"

She nodded, her eyebrows furrowing at me, signaling her faux-faith in my decision. "Okay, Avery. I'll see you later."

"See you, Kat."

"Okay, Avery," Landon said, pumping his chest with his fist. His voice was shaky despite his confident saunter. We had parked several blocks away and triple-checked to lock the car. I was pretty scared that somebody was going to try and punch my window in while we were in 66 Elm Way. "We've got this, right?" He vigorously scratched his arms through his sleeves. I bit my lip and nodded. He's just wearing his hoodie because he's cold. He's just always cold.

"Yeah, of course," I warily answered. I refused to look at him in the eyes. Even if Katherine was wrong, Landon was still lying to me about something. I just had to find out what and prove Katherine wrong. I attempted to turn the conversation to something lighter before we turned the corner to face whatever was at the address. "Are you gonna do the spring concert later this year?"

"And play what?"

"Piano, genius," I replied with a small chortle. "It's your one talent."

"Hey, I have other talents." He began counting off on his fingers, "Bullshitting, napping, a great hugger, if I'm honest."

"So you're not gonna play piano, Landon?"

He huffed, and I thought I could see his breath form out in front of him in a wispy, cold cloud, despite the fact it was sixty-five degrees out. "I haven't played piano in a long, long time, Avery," he sighed. I nodded.

"So how are you gonna get into Julliard?" I questioned, glancing towards the ground. I noticed Landon pause momentarily and his eyes slightly widen, but he quickly continued trekking forward and grinned. He was caught in his lie. He didn't reply.

"Looks like we're here," he muttered with a low-whistle. Shoving his hands in his pockets and stretching his back, he offered me his hand. "I think we should go in through the back."

"How do you know to go in through the back?" I was suddenly nervous of my lifelong friend. What happened to you?

"Look. The stairs are wrecked," he noted, pointing towards the entrance. At a long glance, I realized he was right. The stairs were decayed, termites eating through them like butter. At further examination of the house, I noticed that the white paint was chipping, the window panes coming apart at the nails. The tattered, red-faded curtains weakly blew in the slight breeze. I shuddered.

"It looks like it's haunted," I said, pulling myself closer to Landon.

"Maybe it is," he remarked, "and we're going ghost hunting." He led me across the overgrown lawn, the long blades of grass attempting to wrap around my shoes, as if Mother Nature was trying to drag me into the dirt. Maybe that was what happened to Carson.

We snuck around the corner of the dilapidated house, and when I arched my ear closer to the walls, I could hear conversations being had. "There are people in there," I whispered. Landon nodded as he carefully unwound the doorknob on the backdoor. He gestured for me to follow him into the house.

I suppressed a gag as the stench of the house penetrated my nose. "What the hell?" I coughed. Landon rubbed my back. I hugged myself to him, as if his jacket could shield me from the smell. I felt something hard press into the side of his torso. I jolted away, trying not to arouse suspicion in him.

"It smells like death in here," Landon observed. I froze as I heard footsteps creak around the corner.

"We should hide; we don't know who's in here," I whispered in a panicked tone.

"We'll be fine, Avery, trust me," Landon reassured. I shook my head, but he led me through the hallway anyway. We stepped into a room that looked like it might've been a kitchen, once upon a time. I recoiled in shock and nearly fell over when I examined the people that were in there. A boy in a dirty-white tank-top lounged on a chair in the corner, while a girl sat on something that looked like a broken stove. Two people were sprawled out on the floor, grunting in conversation with each other. All of their arms were littered with bold veins.

"Landon, where are we?" I demanded. The boy in the corner looked up at me but then darted his beady eyes.

"Avery, let's go," Landon said in a hurried voice. He attempted to drag me away by my arm towards a door on the other side of the room, but I stood firmly. I took out my phone and silently took some pictures. "They're gonna be here soon."

"Who's 'they?'"

"We've gotta go. Did you get what you wanted?" His eyes were glowing with an anxious fervor.

"No, Landon, I didn't." I marched to the other side of the room, walked through the doorway, and made my way up the archaic staircase that was presented to me.

"Avery!" Landon yelled. I heard grunts spring up behind in response. "Avery, please!"

"Landon," I replied, gyrating on my foot as he met me on the next floor. "Why have you been lying to me?"

"Wanna know the truth, Avery?" he sneered.

"Yes."

"I found this out by following Hunter fucking Summers!" he bellowed. He drew himself back as if the wind had been knocked out of him. Furious, I grabbed him arms and attempted to roll up his sleeves.

"Show me, Landon!" I shrieked.

"Let go of me!" he yelled, pushing me away. I tripped on a dusty rug, shooting my arms out to regain my balance. The feat accomplished, I began to march towards Landon again when--

"Avery, don't," he warned. I froze. The barrel of the gun glowed menacingly. "I don't wanna do this."

"Landon," I breathed. The object that was against his side was suddenly pointed out in front of me in a slick motion. "How could you?" In any other situation, I would've burst into sobs. But I wasn't upset--I was enraged.

The boy in front of me wasn't my pal. Not my Landon. My Landon wouldn't do something like this.

His disheveled hair stuck out in every direction. Landon suddenly began jerking his hands in seemingly random motions. He began to hum to himself until I recognized it as a melody. I frowned. Landon always loved Beethoven when we were kids.

"Y-you know, Avery," he stammered. "I...I used to be able to play this song perfectly...I, um...I can't even think straight right now. I don't know what it's called. I...I can only remember where my hands go." His fingers began to caress the invisible piano. His arms reached up into the air, and even though he wasn't facing me, I could feel his smile. "'Bravo, Landon!' That's what you're supposed to say, Avery! Bravo."

"Landon...this isn't you. You wouldn't hurt anyone, Landon. You wouldn't hurt a fly."

He began to shake violently. He turned towards me, slowly gyrating on his heel. He spread out his arms as if he was welcoming me into a hug. "Y-you know, Avery, Carson was a very very very very bad boy. Well, I mean, guess not as bad as me."

"You...you killed him, Landon? You got Xander to hurt Katherine," I deduced. I began to walk backwards in fear. I peeked behind me, searching for a window that I could jump out of if it came down to that.

"No! No, no, no! No. See, Carson came here t-to take some pictures for his fucking album. Not everything is a picture, Avery. Not everything can be captured in one moment. What if he got one picture of a girl injecting, and everyone analyzed it to death. 'Oh, her parents are abusive and she's turning to drugs. You can see it in her eyes.' Not everything can just be that way, Avery! Not everything can just be summed up in a few words!" He waved the gun around extravagantly, arching his body and swinging his arms around wildly. It scared me.

"How'd you do it, Landon?"

"Well, what if I told you I lured him into the hotel lobby, promising pictures that would wow those fucking judges and he'd win every single fucking tuition in the world and make a documentary and go on CNN and everyone would know the name Carson goddamn Harris? Then what if I told you I waved that gun in his face and fucking shot him?"

My whole body shook. I wouldn't allow myself to cry in front of him. "Why would you do that to me, Landon? I love you."

"I love you too, Avery." He burst into a fit of laughter. "I'm kidding! I didn't kill Carson! Geez, Avery...geez." His skin seemed to pale by the second as he stared at me. His smile slowly faded, twisting into a hopeless frown. "Avery...that trip to Portugal...it was for two months...I wasn't looking at all the fine boys and girls. I was in rehab, Avery. My parents sent me to a clinic to 'fix' me."

I gazed at him, waiting for him to continue. "To be honest with you, Avery, I thought I was fine. But then with a crappy feeling, I realized I'll never be that happy again. But hey, what if I tried it again? So I did. I did it again and again and again and again and again and again and again and I can't live with myself anymore, Avery!

"I didn't tell Xander to hurt Katherine. I don't know who did. I didn't kill Carson. Do you believe me, Avery? Do you?"

"I...I don't know, Landon."

He raised the gun, his arm outstretched to his right. "I'd kill myself if I wasn't such a pussy. That's what I was gonna do today. I was gonna bring you here, let you walk out, and pull the trigger. And the cops would find me. I called them a while ago," he explained with a slight laugh. Tears threatened to escape my eyes as I took a step towards him. "Avery, I'm so sad. I don't know if I can handle this anymore." He rolled up his sleeves. His arms were ghostly white and his veins stood out against the paleness. I frowned. "I don't want to deal with this feeling anymore, Avery." I approached him, throwing caution to the wind. With a determined expression, I opened my arms to him.

"Avery?" he asked as if he was meeting me for the first time. He let his head droop down onto my shoulder and pulled me close to him. I wrapped my arms around him and refused to let him go. He let the gun clatter to the floor. "I need help, Avery. I'm sorry I lied. But I want help. I need you to forgive me."

"I forgive you, Landon. It's okay. Let's go home, okay? Let's go home." Landon trudged out of the room, his arms slumped around my shoulder. He began humming a tune whose name we didn't know, but didn't need to.

Landon ripped off his jacket as if it was suffocating him. He threw it on the grass and let it get consumed by the world.

We listened to piano melodies as we walked back to the car.