The Dead List (12 page)

I shifted my weight, turning my attention to Jensen, expecting him to do or say something, but he just raised his brows.

God, it was so weird, the three of us being in my living room. It was like jumping back in time, except… well, Gavin and Jensen wouldn’t have been eyeballing each other like they were now.

Which made this all kinds of awkward.

But when we were younger… well, we teased each other mercilessly and we laughed all the time. The three of us—Jensen, Gavin, and me—had been inseparable from elementary to eighth grade. Jensen had been the one to bring the box for the turtle with the cracked shell we’d rescued. He’d dressed up as the hill, using cardboard boxes, grass clippings and a ton of superglue, when Gavin and I went as Jack and Jill. And Jensen and I had shared the shameful guilt from the weekend the whole landscape of our town changed. So yeah, the three of us.

No.

Not the three of us.

The
four
of us.

The half smile was back on Jensen’s face, but there was no humor to the smug quirk of the lips. “So, what’ve you been up to, Gav?”

Gav
. I winced, remembering how much Gavin hated that nickname. Hell, when he’d tick me off, I’d call him that.

Gavin’s shoulders tensed. “Nothing much. Just going to school and helping out with Mom and Dad.”

“Ah, yeah, the cleaning business thing.” There wasn’t any arrogance in the way he said that, but Gavin’s cheeks flushed.

“Do you want anything to drink?” I asked, hoping to diffuse the situation.

Gavin’s lips were thin as he nodded. “Sure.”

“How about you?” I asked Jensen.

Sliding his arm off the back of the couch, he dropped his hands on his knees as he turned pale eyes on me. “Thanks, but I’m going to go ahead and get out of here.”

“You don’t have to leave,” I said quickly.

Gavin crossed his arms. “Yeah, you don’t have to leave.”

His tone was so not welcoming, and I shot him a look he largely ignored. Jensen chuckled under his breath as he rose. Brushing past the shorter guy, he didn’t pay him any attention.

“I’ll be right back,” I said, trailing after Jensen. “You really don’t have to leave, you know.”

“No. I think I kind of do.” Jensen stopped at the door, not even looking at Gavin. “Tomorrow after school? Same place.”

I nodded. “I’ll be there.”

“Good.” Only then did his gaze flick behind me. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Gavin was standing in the center of the living room when I returned, arms still crossed across his chest. “What was he doing here?”

“Um, like he said, he was just stopping by.” I walked past him, determined not to be too irritated. The boys hadn’t been friends for a long time either, but I had to think they missed that friendship too. “And I told you he was helping with the whole self-defense thing.”

He followed me into the kitchen. “Is he teaching you at home?”

“No,” I sighed, reaching into the fridge. I handed him a Coke. “But we were just setting up a time to meet again.”

Taking the drink, he was silent as I hopped up on the kitchen counter, letting my legs dangle off the edge. “You know what I don’t get?”

“No.”

His forehead crinkled. “Where did Jensen learn self-defense?”

I opened my mouth, but I really didn’t have an answer for that. Good question.

“I mean, that’s not something you just know how to do, so shouldn’t you be learning from someone who knows what they’re doing?” he asked, popping the tab on his soda. The liquid fizzed. “Instead of someone who just says he knows what he’s doing?”

“He knows what he’s doing.”

“Really?” He took a long drink.

“Yes. Really.”

“Uh-huh.”

Forget trying not to be irritated. My scalp started to tingle. “What’s your deal?”

“Okay.” He placed the soda down on the table and walked over to where I sat. Placing his hands on either side of my legs, he leaned in. “You just went through some pretty traumatic shit.”

I folded my arms across my chest, narrowing my eyes at him. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“I’m just saying that you’re in a… vulnerable spot. Hey—” He held up his hands. “Don’t give me that look. You are. And that’s totally normal, but do you really think this is a good time to entertain the idea of anything with Jensen?”

My stomach soured as I felt heat spread across my cheeks. “Having him teach me self-defense and talking to him isn’t entertaining anything,” I said, and oh crap, that was a lie, because I’d so been entertaining an idea of kissing him.

Gavin raised his brows. “Don’t you remember what happened last time?”

I drew in a ragged breath as my fingers curled around the edge of the counter.

“Look, I’m just pointing that out. He has a history of making shit worse.” He pushed off the counter and straightened. “And I don’t want to see you hurt, and he hurt you last time, at the worst possible moment in your life.”

There was no denying the truth to that statement as much as I wanted to. My gaze dropped as I shook my head. “It’s not like that. I mean, it’s not the same situation.”

“You sure about that?” he asked quietly.

I nodded.

Gavin leaned forward, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. He dragged me forward, off the counter and to his chest as he hugged me, and it felt good—maybe a little longer than I expected, but I soaked up the warmth. As wrong as this was, I took from him what I had wanted so badly from Jensen. I closed my eyes and breathed in the scent of fresh laundry.

“I know Jensen might be acting like he’s got some common decency right now, but just be careful around him,” he said, squeezing me. “He’s changed. We all have, but him especially. Just don’t forget what he did to you.”

#

Gavin left shortly after Mom came home, and I hung out in the kitchen while she cooked up some fatty Hamburger Helper, cheeseburger style and afterwards, while I cleaned up.

“I talked to Dr. Oliver today,” she said, as I loaded up the dishwasher.

It took me a few seconds to remember what she was talking about, because my mind was so wrapped up in what Gavin had said. Closing the dishwasher, I turned around with a sigh. “So, when’s my appointment?”

“Next Friday, after school.” She wiped a dishtowel across the table in front of where I sat. Admittedly, I was a messy eater. “I can go with you if you want.”

And that was the last thing I wanted. “No, thank you.”

She wrinkled her nose at me as she tossed the towel into the sink. “You don’t have to make it sound like it’s the worst idea ever.”

I laughed. “Well, it’s not the greatest idea.”

Mom narrowed her eyes, but then she tilted her head to the side, studying me. “Honey, you look terrible.”

“Wow.” I laughed again. “Thanks a lot.”

Walking over to me, she placed cool hands on my cheeks. “Have you been sleeping?”

“Yes.”

She tsked softly. “You’re a terrible liar.”

That I was. Sighing, I pulled free. “It’s been a little hard sleeping.”

“Maybe I should see if he can get you in sooner. Or I can get him to order a script for sleeping pills,” she offered, turning to where she’d tossed the dishtowel. “They worked last time.”

Last time.

I took a deep breath. “I don’t need them, Mom.”

But later that night, long after Mom had already gone to bed, I lay in mine, watching the shadows from the swaying branches outside dance across the ceiling. The TV flashed different colors every so often, the volume turned up just loud enough to drown out the creaks and groans the house made.

Perhaps the sleeping pills wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

It was past midnight, my eyelids heavy, but sleep was allusive. I tossed and turned, too hot, and the pillow felt too hard. My brain cycled through the conversation with Gavin and then Jensen, to the bird and beyond, to what happened on Saturday.

I wasn’t sure what time it was when I tossed the covers off and climbed out of the bed. The low blue light from the TV cast a glow across my bedroom. Weary to my very bones, I shuffled into my bathroom.

Flipping on the light, I crossed the room, my bare feet silent against the cool tile. I stopped in front of the sink, yawning as I turned the water on. Cupping my hands under the cool stream, I bent over, splashing the water over my face. It did very little of anything, but I dipped my hands again and then scrubbed my eyes.

As I lifted my head, letting the water trickle between my fingers, cool air brushed along the back of my neck. I froze as my heart kicked against my ribs.

Water streamed into the sink, but
there
! I felt it again, across the base of my neck, a cool breath stirring the tendrils of hair. And then I heard it—a heavy footstep, like a boot connecting with the floor, followed by another.

Eyes shut and skin tingling, I slowly straightened.
Nothing is behind me
. It had to be the air kicking on and my ears playing tricks on me.
Nothing is behind me.

Drawing a deep breath that didn’t reach my lungs, I opened my eyes. Oh God, I was wrong—so very wrong. A scream rose in my throat.

It
stood behind me, the face covered in the starkly white clown mask, and it’s black, empty holes where the eyes should be. Slowly, it cocked its head to the side and made a guttural tsking sound.

I spun around, stumbling back into the hard sink. He lurched at me, glove covered hands reaching out—

Jerking up in bed, I gasped for air as my heart thudded against my ribs. Nightmare—it was just a
nightmare
.

“Oh, my God.” I pressed my hand against my chest

No one was here. I was safe, but my poor heart hadn’t registered that. Pressing my other hand against my chest, I sucked in several deep breaths.

Something about the room wasn’t right, though. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I lowered my hands to the edge of the blanket, pulling it from where it rested around my knees. I tucked the comforter under my chin, glancing at the window. The curtains were still. That wasn’t it….

The TV.

A knot formed under my ribs. The TV was turned off. I hadn’t done that before I fell asleep, and I hadn’t turned on a sleep timer. Hell, I wasn’t even sure how to turn one on. Mom did it, I told myself. She had to have come in and turned it off.

I lay back down, curling onto my side as the sweat dotting my skin turned cool. My heart gradually slowed down, but I didn’t close my eyes for any length of time.

I didn’t go back to sleep.

Running late the next morning, I grabbed my Pop Tart, kissed Mom, and then raced for the door. I stopped before I barreled out, turning back to where she stood, pouring black coffee into her mug.

“Did you come in my bedroom last night?” I asked. “And turn off the TV?”

Light blonde hair fell back over her shoulder as she looked over, her brows pinching together. “No. Why?”

The knot under my ribs grew twice its size. “I guess I must’ve set the sleep timer or something.”

The only way I’d set the time was by accident and I couldn’t even fathom the chance that it could be something else. My brain was unable to cope with weird, stress crap today. Saying goodbye, I headed out under the overcast sky.

By some sick twist of fate, I ended up parking next to Wendy’s fancy, relatively new car. Which looked to be a Lexus, but I refused to investigate the make of the car too closely, because it was likely that I’d fall on my face if she were seriously driving that kind of car. But as I climbed out, a few seconds before her, I wasn’t thinking about her pretty car that didn’t have a dent by the hood or a cracked front light, like mine.

Wendy looked like a hot mess.

Her blonde hair was slicked back in a low ponytail and short strands had slipped free, hanging limply against ruddy cheeks. It was like she’d forgotten her powder and concealer this morning. Dark shadows bloomed under her eyes. She was wearing a loose screen t-shirt and sweats, something that I’d wear, but never expected to see her out in public in, especially the pink sweat pants.

She looked as bad as I felt.

Actually, I couldn’t remember ever seeing her look so bad and I’d known the girl since elementary school.

She turned and as she closed the door, her troubled gaze met mine. “Hey,” she said.

I stared at her. “Hi.” And I waited for some caustic, snotty remark, but when she simply walked toward the building, I was left standing there like an idiot.

Well, that was… unexpected and just a little strange, kind of like a less-snarky alien or something invaded her.

School was uneventful other than Linds telling me that the ‘volunteer’ meeting on Saturday would be at the old farmhouse that held the haunted tour every year and was pushed back to the afternoon.

There were no dead cardinals and Jensen didn’t visit me during lunch, and I tried not to be disappointed by that. I had no reason to expect that he would, and it was probably better that he hadn’t. Being friends with him was stupid enough. But I couldn’t help but notice that Wendy sat her little butt down right next to him. I also noticed that Monica was absent from the table.

On second thought, I hadn’t seen her all day.

“You should probably stop looking over at their table.”

“Huh?” I turned my attention to Heidi.

Hair separated into pigtails, she looked adorable. With the baby face and freckles, she could pull it off. When I wore my hair like that, it looked like I escaped an asylum. Picking at a granola bar, she grinned. “You keep looking over there. If you want me to believe that you’re not interested in Jensen, you’re going to have to try harder than that.”

“I’m not looking at him.”

“You checking out Brock or Mason?”

“What? No.”

Her grin turned impish. “So, like I said…”

I stuck my tongue out at her, and she giggled. For the rest of lunch I resisted the urge to check out his table. It was only when I was ditching my tray and half eaten food that I glanced over there again. Instead of my searching gaze meeting Jensen’s, it was Brock who I ended up connecting with.

He wasn’t smiling, and the expression on his face was unfathomable. The knot below my ribs expanded, and I quickly looked away.