Thunk, Tucker lodged a knife into the wall of one of the large offices. It dug into the bullseye, inside the only mark on the paper target Landon had made.
“That’s 30 for 30,” Landon cheered from his seat behind Tucker, “have you ever missed?”
“Yeah, when I was like six,” Tucker pulled the knife from the wall, “then I started hitting targets and it clicked. Never missed again.”
“That’s so cool.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to try?” Tucker held the handle to Landon.
Landon shook his head, sinking further into his seat. Tucker shrugged and threw the knife again. It became the routine for the next little while. Landon could just watch listlessly, without thinking of anything. Hours could have passed and he wouldn’t have noticed.
Then Tucker was waving his hand in front of him, “Landon?”
“Hmm?”
“We talked about this,” Tucker sounded disappointed, “you can’t just check out.”
“I’m not.”