Monday evening, April 6th, 2020

It was the first day of the school holidays and I was 'tutoring'. I didn't know how I was supposed to explain to my parents why I had no money when they asked me but I'd worry about that later.

I knew that an oncoming, important conversation was inevitable. My parents would eventually pull me aside and question me about the fight we had weeks ago. I'd have to prepare myself for that.

Despite my hatred for using Nix's car, I don't have a choice today. I'm going over to Kennedy's for the fundraiser for Liam. It was later tonight and she had begged me to get ready with her.

I was nervous. Mostly because I knew that I was going to be surrounded by Harry's family. For some weird reason, I wanted them to like me.

The windows are down. The stench of bleach was starting to become bearable. Regardless, I still grip the steering wheel tightly.

I should have just sucked it up and walked in the dark. But something about the dark scared me. I didn't like not knowing that something could be out there, lurking.

I'm playing Stubborn Love by The Lumineers quietly in the background as I turn into Ken's street. My fingers drum against the steering wheel when I notice her mother's car parked in the driveway.

I should have expected this. She did live here, after all. I just wasn't sure that I could look Laurel Bishop in the eye now that she had written that article on Nix. I didn't want her to see the resemblance and put two-and-two together somehow.

Low and behold, because I have the best luck, none other than Kennedy's mother answers the door once I've made the journey up the driveway.

"Hello, London," she beams.

"Hi...Laurel."

She ushers me inside and I can't help but tense up. I try to hide my face behind my hair. I was probably being dramatic but it was better to be safe than sorry.

"The girls are just upstairs. The fundraiser is just a brilliant idea. The handful of times I met Liam, he was a gentleman. Such a shame what happened to him," she frowns, shaking her head.

"What did hap—"

"Finally!" Kennedy deadpans, jumping off the last step and gathering me into a hug.

"Sorry, I lost track of time."

"No worries," she grins. "We still have two hours before we have to leave."

Kennedy grasps my hand and pulls me up the stairs. I trail behind her as she enters her bedroom.

"Hey, Lon!" Sydney calls. She's sitting in front of the mirror applying her mascara, cross-legged. Her reflection waves at me and I offer her a small smile.

Both Kennedy and Sydney were wearing cocktail dresses, much to my dismay. I didn't even think that the fundraiser might have a dress code.

"Um," I gulp, "am I underdressed?"

Kennedy gives me the once over and Sydney spins around to look at me. They both cock their heads to the side, simultaneously.

"Oh no," I groan, "I am, aren't I?"

"Don't freak out," Kennedy says, holding up her hands. "Just borrow something of mine."

She strides over to her walk-in wardrobe, separating the dresses on her wrack.

"Your colour is navy. I remember that navy jumper you wore when you came over here last time and it looked great against your skin tone."

Sydney snorts. "You couldn't sound more like a design student if you tried right now."

"Is that what you want to do when you finish school?" I question.

We hardly ever spoke about what we'd do once we finished at the end of the year. But I was glad they never asked me. I had no idea where I'd even be by then.

"Yep. Fashion design," she says, removing two navy dresses and stepping back into her room.

"She'll make up any excuse to style you," Sydney warns. "When I first met her, she threw a party and forced me to get ready with her."

"Hey," Kennedy throws a beauty blender at Sydney. "I didn't force you."

The beauty blender bounces off Sydney's head, hits the mirror and bounces back against her forehead. I can't help but laugh along with them.

"Besides, it's just my dream. I doubt I'll be successful."

"Don't give up on your dreams just because they seem hard," I say.

I sit down next to Sydney and she scoots over, leaving room for the both of us to do our makeup.

"I think that's the most optimistic thing you've ever said," she mumbles next to me, smiling.

I smile back at her, suddenly feeling shy. Was I really that doom-and-gloom all the time?

"Lon, try these on before you do your makeup."

I turn back and watch as Kennedy spreads out the two dresses on the bed.

I stand beside her, looking down at the options. She places a hand on her chin, frowning in concentration.

Both dresses were above the knee and navy but other than that, they were completely opposite. One was a blazer dress. The other one had tie-up straps, which tied into bows. It had a low-cut square neck and was bodycon styled.

I try on the blazer dress first. It fits loosely around the bust, basically because of my none-existent B-cups.

But once I try on the next dress, it doesn't even matter.

"Holy Hell," Sydney whispers. "You look..."

"Freakin' hot. Harry won't be able to keep his eyes off you," Kennedy claps, zipping up the rest of the dress for me.

I blush at the mention of Harry. I hadn't told either of them what happened between us after the Bon Iver concert.

"Lon. You are seriously blushing right now," Sydney jabs, finishing up her eye shadow.

I cover my cheeks in embarrassment.

"I haven't told you guys something," I whisper, staring at the floor.

Kennedy and Sydney both stare at me patiently and I suddenly feel a wave of emotion. I'd never expected to have friends like this ever again after Millie. I felt so grateful, I couldn't put it into words.

"Harry and I— we may have... kissed?"

Kennedy gasps. Sydney drops her makeup brush. They stare at each other in shock before Sydney starts to laugh.

"I knew it!" Sydney says, pointing to Kennedy. "Fifty dollars, please."

Kennedy groans, going for her wallet which sits on the bedside table. "Fine, fine."

"Wait, what?" I question.

"Well, a few weeks ago, Ken and I made a bet about you and Harry. I said that you'd kiss within the next few weeks but Ken didn't think he'd have the nerve until sometime after your birthday in May. I win!"

Kennedy pouts but hands over the money anyway.

"Where did it happen?" Sydney asks, lying on Ken's bed, placing the money in her pocket.

"Um, after the Bon Iver concert. In the carpark."

"That was ages ago! Why did you wait so long to tell us?" Kennedy glares playfully.

"It was on Saturday," I deadpan. "Saturday being two days ago."

"Exactly! You've had ages to tell us," Kennedy sighs, exasperated.

I shrug. "There wasn't a lot to say."

That makes Kennedy pause. She'd been curling her hair but now she puts the iron back down on her dresser.

"What does that mean?"

"I may have told him we were better off as friends?" I cringe, regretting the words as soon as they leave my mouth.

"No!" Sydney groans, covering her face. "You didn't."

"Lon..." Kennedy tuts.

"I know, I know. It's just...I think its better this way."

"Better for who? It's so obvious that you're both smitten!"

"I've always hated that word," Sydney says, scrunching up her nose.

"What? Smitten?" Kennedy asks.

"Yeah, it just sounds like, I don't know, not a real word."

"Not a real word? What are you even on about?"

"You know, like—"

Kennedy waves her hand in the air. "Don't get off track here, Syd. Lon has just made a grave mistake and we need to stage an intervention."

I roll my eyes, walking back over to the mirror to start my makeup.

"It's better this way. Trust me."

"No, trust me. It is not better this way. At all," Kennedy glowers.

"No wonder Haz was in a bad mood when I called him," Sydney recalls.

"Well, I spoke to him about it after and he was happy to be friends."

"Sure," Kennedy remarks.

Once I've finished my makeup, I start applying my false eyelashes.

"I think me need some cheerful music," Sydney muses, turning on Kennedy's speaker and connecting her phone.

Something by David Guetta starts up but I tune it out, concentrating on my eyelashes. I sigh, starting to get frustrated. I'd never been good with applying lashes.

"Need some help?" Kennedy asks, sitting down next to me.

"Please," I smile, handing her the glue and lashes.

She starts applying the glue carefully, her eyes fixed on the lash.

"Are you annoyed at me?" I question, tentatively.

She informs me to close my eyes and I wait patiently for her answer.

"No. I'm not annoyed, Lon," she sighs. "I don't know, I just thought you'd be good for him. He's been through a lot, you know."

"I know. He told me about Liam."

I open my eyes while she puts glue on the second lash.

"I was surprised when he invited you. Only because I hadn't realised that he'd even told you what happened."

"I was with him on what would have been Liam's nineteenth birthday yesterday. He went to the cemetery."

"Oh," Kennedy whispers. I close my eyes again, her cool fingers touching my forehead as she applies the next eyelash.

"Well, that just shows you then, doesn't it?"

"Shows me what?" I ask.

"That he trusts you. That he cares about what you think."

"Trusting and caring about someone doesn't mean they like you."

I open my eyes and Kennedy is shaking her head.

"You haven't seen the way he looks at you then."

"I—"

"Just please don't hurt him, okay? I don't know if— I feel like he won't be able to handle it. Not after everything."

Before I can respond, Laurel is knocking on the door, poking her head in.

"Girls, are you ready? I'm leaving in five."

"Yep," Kennedy responds. "We're all done here."

The venue was lit up with fairy lights strung amongst the trees as I walk up the path with Ken and Syd.

Laurel was parking the car and told us to go in ahead. I couldn't help but feel relieved when I exited the car. I constantly felt like I had to be on high alert around Laurel now.

An ABBA song is blasting through the speakers as we all walk in. I instantly spot Cooper and Asher, who Kennedy rushes over to first.

"Took your time," Asher rolls his eyes. "You're twenty minutes late."

"You can't talk!" Sydney glares, lightly smacking his arm. "Before formal last year, you took thirty minutes on your hair alone. I was finished by then. Thank god it's only a buzz cut now."

Asher opens his mouth and closes it again. He does this several times before grabbing Sydney in a headlock.

"Asher, I swear..."

They start bickering at each other and Cooper rolls his eyes.

"Trust them to embarrass the rest of us," he mutters, taking a sip from a drink he's holding.

"Behave," Kennedy whispers sternly at the two of them. "This is not the time or place to start acting like two year olds."

Asher let's go of Syd, smoothing out his suit. "You're right. Sorry."

Kennedy mumbles something incoherent to Asher and they walk off, towards the grazing table.

"Where's Harry?" Ken asks Cooper, glancing at me momentarily.

"Not sure. He'll be here somewhere. He's stressed, though. He hasn't been able to relax all night. He wants everything to be perfect."

My heart lurched at the thought of Harry wanting everything to be perfect for Liam.

"Oh, Kennedy! I just saw Sydney. I was wondering where you were," a women beams, folding Kennedy into a hug.

When they pull away, Kennedy turns to me. "Jackie, this is Lonnie."

"Oh! Lonnie, it is so nice to finally meet you! I'm Jacqueline, Harry's mother," she smiles, pulling me into a warm hug.

Before she even told me who she was, it was obvious of her relation to Harry. They had the same bone structure, the same full lips. Her hair was the same shade of brown as Harry's, with the lightest sprinkle of grey.

"It's nice to meet you too," I say, loosely placing my arms around her.

"Thank you all for coming," she sincerely nods. "It means a lot to Harry. It means a lot to me that you have all been supporting him through this."

"Of course," Cooper reassures Jacqueline, squeezing her hand.

"We'd do anything for him," Kennedy says sternly, yet kindly.

Jacqueline wipes the corner of her eyes. "Look at me. I'm already a mess."

"It's an emotional day," Cooper says. "No one will blame you for feeling upset."

"I suppose you're right," she agrees. "I best get back to it, though. I still need to find Maria, we seem to be running low on champagne..."

She walks off, disappearing into the growing crowd of people.

Cooper whispers something to Kennedy before walking off as well. She turns to me then, grinning.

"We should probably introduce you to some people," she nods.

Before I can object, she's leading me through the crowd.

I meet Harry's father, Matthew, who has the same startling eyes as his son. Then Kennedy introduces me to Harry's aunt and uncle, Liam's parents, Maria and John.

"Thank you for coming today," Maria says. John has his arm wrapped around his wife, holding her tightly to his side.

They reminded me so much of my parents that it hurt. They were clearly a package deal as well, tied together and supporting each other through whatever life threw at them. It made me miss the relationship I used to have with my own parents.

"Harry always speaks so fondly of Liam," I say. "I wouldn't have missed this. It's amazing what you've organised today."

Maria offers me a small smile. "Liam was so passionate about his charity work. He's taking— he would have taken a gap year to solely focus on that. We knew it was only right to have a fundraiser in his honour."

"To celebrate his life," John adds, his eyes focused on his wife.

"To celebrate everything he would have achieved," she whispers sadly, wiping a tear from her eye.

"All the proceeds will be going to his favourite charities," John says.

"If you'll excuse me," Maria says, "I need to go a check on the food."

John nods at me and Kennedy before leading Maria out towards the catering area.

"Poor things," Kennedy whispers. "Maria hasn't been her same, bubbly self since Liam died."

"Understandably," I sigh.

"It's so awful that he was taken from them so suddenly."

"Ken, what did—"

"If I could have everyone's attention."

My head snaps over to the stage. Harry is standing behind a microphone, dressed in a navy suit. His eyes swivel over the audience before landing on me. I give him a reassuring smile.

"Today, we are all gathered here to celebrate Liam Coleman and the charities he worked passionately and tirelessly for."

He looked so handsome up there on the stage. It made my heart ache.

"Although Liam's life was— although his life may have been cut short, during his eighteen years with us, he was able to raise over $30,000 in fundraising. He was a kind, compassionate person who would do anything for anyone who needed help."

The pain is evident on his face, yet he doesn't let his voice waver.

A screen lights up behind Harry. Images begin to fill the screen. A slideshow of a boy at a young age glide across the screen.

"Liam began his fundraising at age 9 when he realised that his cricket club was in dire need of a new pitch and equipment. He was able to single-handedly raise over $2,000 and save his club."

It stops on an image of a brown-haired boy, smiling at the camera. He had his arms wrapped around two boys, whilst the rest of a cricket team gathered around them. An adult, who was likely the coach, was holding up a cheque for $2,000.

These were pictures of Liam's life.

"By the age of 14, Liam had raised over $12,000 for countless charities. When I asked him once why he did it, he said to me, 'Harry, if I can help one single person feel like they can enjoy their life as much as I do, then I have won.' It's safe to say I never questioned him again."

A tear gathers in the corner of my eye as I watch Liam grow up on a screen.

"He was wise beyond his years and it will never be easy knowing that we lost a man with so much more to give."

Kennedy sniffles next to me. I reach out for her hand, grasping onto it.

Sydney, Asher and Cooper have gathered around us now, watching Harry speak.

Another image of Liam slides across on the screen and I frown.

Why did I have a feeling that I had seen him before?

"Tragically, last November, Liam was gunned down in—"

The next image makes me pause. I drop Kennedy's hand.

My palms are sweating. Something is wrong but I can't seem to get my thoughts in order.

The next image makes me falter. I almost lose my balance but luckily, Kennedy holds me up.

"Lon?" she asks, her voice laced with concern.

And then Harry lands the final blow, just as Liam's year 12 picture pops up behind him. The picture that had been on the news with the rest of my brother's victims.

"His own school, Winterville Prep."

Kennedy is saying something to me but I can't hear her. My ears are ringing.

No. No. NO.

This can't be happening. This can't be happening.

I need to get out. I need to get out.

"Lon? Lonnie? Where are you going?" Kennedy hisses.

I don't look back. I don't look back to see Harry's beautiful face or Kennedy's perplexed expression.

I don't look back because everything is wrong. Everything is so, so wrong.

Harry's speech continues on, despite the chaos roaring through my head.

"But even though he's gone, his legacy and his work will never disappear. It will live on forever."

My brother is the reason he will never live at all.

My brother did this.

My brother...

I can't control my breathing. I'm starting to panic. I claw at my throat, trying desperately to calm myself down.

I make it out the exit, collapsing next to the door. I crouch down, shaking all over.

Nix did this. Nix killed Liam. Liam is dead because of my brother. Harry is hurting because of my brother. Everyone in that room is remembering an amazing person who was murdered by my own brother.

All of this could have been prevented if I had just realised what was happening.

Oh god. How did I not see this coming? How did I not know?

Why was I always so behind on everything? Was I always the last to know?

I begin to sob uncontrollably. I slide down until I hit the pavement beneath me. I turn to one side and empty everything I have eaten today onto the ground.

Harry.

The idea that all of his pain could have been avoided if I had just stopped my brother makes me vomit again. Harder.

Memories suddenly surface and I see him. I see him. Liam, standing by his locker, laughing with his friends. Liam playing cricket. Millie telling me she had a new crush on someone in the grade above us named Liam.

I might not have known him personally, but Winterville Prep hadn't been a big school. I'd seen him around. He'd always been so happy.

I squeeze my eyes shut. I bring my knees up to hug my chest, resting my head in between them.

"Lonnie?"

Shit. No. No. Don't see me like this. Please no one see me like this.

"Shit. Lonnie, what happened?"

Asher crouches down in front of me, gripping my arms softly. I sit up, wiping my eyes.

"Nothing," I croak. "Just...emotional."

"Lonnie...", Asher frowns, clearly not believing my lie.

"Can you just— can you take me home. Please?"

He hesitates, his head swivelling towards the door. "Did you want me to get—"

"No," I say, sharply. "You can't— please don't tell the others you saw me like this, okay?"

"Lon—"

"Promise me, Asher. You can't tell anyone that you saw me like this."

"Shit. Okay. I won't, Lon. Come on, I'll take you home."

"Just tell the others my parents called and needed me," I whisper.

He wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me up to stand up. He doesn't even flinch when he almost steps in my vomit.

"Are you alright? Are you sick?"

"Yes," I say, hoarsely. "I'm sick of everything. I'm sick of being me, of being a terrible person. I'm sick of pretending that everything is fine. I'm sick of...I'm sick of..."

I break off into another sob.

Asher pulls me tighter towards him, holding me up. He wraps a hand around my head, brushing my hair soothingly.

"Whatever is going on with you, just know that we are all here. You can talk to us, Lon."

I wish I could give him an answer, but I can't. I can't because there is no way I could ever talk to any of them about the things I know.

Asher leads me towards the carpark. He fishes out his keys from his pocket, opening the door for me.

Once Asher turns on the engine, I reach out, my hand landing on his arm. He pauses.

"Whatever you do, you can't tell Harry about this. Alright?"

"Lonnie, I already promised I wouldn't—"

"Yes," I interject, "but you can't tell Harry especially. He can't know that I was...crying...that I was out here—"

"Lon, I promise. I don't tell other people's secrets."

Secrets.

It only sets me off again. I cry silently into my arm.

Despite everything that had happened, I'd at least had an idea about how I was going to finish my final year of high school.

So what if meeting my friends wasn't apart of the plan in the beginning? I could handle having friends and a dangerous past.

But this? This I couldn't handle. I had no way of knowing how to deal with this on my own.

Momentarily, I wish that my brother was here to give me advice.

But then I remember. I remember who he turned out to be. I remember what he did.

I begin to cry harder.