she slipped ; malum

avery

BULLETS FLEW PAST HIS HEAD AS HE ATTEMPTED TO LEAVE THE BATTLEGROUND THAT WAS CALLED HALSEY HIGH BY SOME OLD-TIMER NAMED CARL. Calum had tried to rush as fast as he could for a boy who hadn't slept in four days, but he just wasn't quick enough.

"Hey, Hood, where you going?"

He didn't understand why Luke tried to shoot him from so far away. All he did was just waste bullets and Calum's time. He continued to walk away.

"Luke, just leave him alone." Ashton said quietly, trying to get his best friend from even bothering to lift up the gun.

"Going to push somebody else off a cliff?" Luke continued.

Calum turned around, walking over to him, his eyes dark. Calum was so close that he could shoot him right between the eyes, but he didn't bother. "I never fucking killed her, Luke. She slipped. Why the fuck would I kill Avery?"

Luke liked the fact that his enemy had given him pretty much permission to at least shoot him in the foot. "She probably said something you didn't like. You have a thing for hitting people when you're mad, don't you?"

"I love her, Luke. I mean . . . loved. I never laid a hand on her. You just told everybody that I did."

Calum didn't bother saying anything else. Instead, he turned around and took a wrong turn when walking home, to a place that allowed him alcohol and tears. It was in the back of an alley, 'come in, you're okay now' painted just above the door.

Inside, every wall was stained with pictures, drawings and quotes written in Sharpie. It gave off a café-esque vibe, but it wasn't like anyone minded. After his visit, he walked around with at least a half a bottle of wine in his system. His eyes were pretty much black, and his walk was slurred like his words.

He went to the only place he thought it would be okay to cry. His feet worked with the sober part of his brain to guide him, even though the rest of him had no idea where he was going. When his bare feet touched the wet grass in the freezing cold, he knew he was there.

He started yelling – screaming – that he didn't kill her and how he never would have, he loved her so much. He started to cry, yelling her name, waiting for her to come out of her house, or open her window like she always did.

His jeans were wet with tears and rain drops as he knelt down on the grass, sobbing like he was scared for his life rather than taking another one. His vision led him to believe that four people walked out. None were Avery.

He cried even harder.

"What's your name?" came a harsh voice.

"Mum, be gentle; he's balling his eyes out." Came another voice that was spoken by another blurry face.

"I didn't kill her." Calum continued, ignoring them both.

"Hey, mate, can you tell us your name, please?" The younger blurry face asked.

The Maori got to his feet, but fell over again. "Where's Avery?" The feminine body held a phone in her hand, and Calum knew exactly what she was going to do. "No! Don't call the police."

"Why not?"

"I'm not doing anything wrong."

It was the younger one who pulled him up to his feet again, dragging him into the house, pushing him down into an armchair. He forced water into the drunk boy, hoping he'd sober up a little. The tanned boy kept on asking about Avery.