The Dead List by Jennifer L. Armentrout Page B

said he’d teach me, so…”
    Mom reached over, pulling my free hand away from my hair. “I think that will be good. You know, for you two to reconnect.”
    My stomach did a weird little flip at the thought of reconnecting .
    Creases appeared in her brow. “But doesn’t he play football?”
    “Not anymore.”
    “Hmm,” she murmured. “How is Jensen doing?”
    I shrugged. Mom knew we hadn’t talked. Not since seventh grade, around the time Jensen grew into his long limbs and those beautiful lips. Overnight, he’d become popular and I remained… well, painfully average. And that was before he moved away.
    A lot had happened before he moved away.
    She shook her head. “Every time I think of him, I think of his brother. What was his name?”
    An ache pierced my chest at the mention of Jensen’s older brother, someone I hadn’t thought of in a very long time. “His name was Jonathan.”
    “Such a tragedy.” Mom sighed sadly. “For a young man like that to just die in his sleep. I feel so terrible for him and his parents.”
    Pressing my lips together, I nodded. Jonathan had been five years older than Jensen. The two had been close. At least they had been when we were… friends. A lifetime ago. I’d heard that his brother had been home from college when he’d died in his….
    My eyes widened as I realized why Jensen wanted to go to the University of Maryland. Or at least I thought I did. That was where Jonathan had been going to school. Was Jensen following in his brother’s footsteps as some way to honor his memory? If so, that was…. God, I didn’t even know and I had no idea what to do with that piece of information.
    “This town has seen enough tragedy,” she said.
    I froze again. Was she going to talk about it ? No one ever talked about it anymore, but before she could continue, the doorbell clanged throughout the house, causing me to jump.
    Mom frowned as she rose. “Probably one of our nosey neighbors.”
    When she left the room, I was alone and still too creeped out to sit in here. Hopping to my feet, I made it to the door when Mom called for me. I stopped at the top of the stairs. She was at the bottom, an odd little smile on her face.
    “What?” I asked.
    “It’s for you.” And that’s all she said.
    Having no idea who it could be, I came down the stairs. If it was Linds, Mom would’ve just let her upstairs. Even Gavin. The fluttering was back in my chest as I hurried up, practically hopping down the steps.
    I passed Mom, shooting her a look when she all but pranced from the room. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door and my suspicions—or hope, but whatever—were confirmed.
    Jensen stood on my porch, dressed as he was earlier, wearing nylon pants and the cotton shirt. Our eyes locked, and I swore some kind of unseen tension eased from his stare.
    “You’re okay.”
    Glancing behind me, I saw the top of Mom’s head poking out from around the living room. I stepped outside, closing the door behind me. “I’m okay.”
    Jensen stared at me like he was trying to see something not easily visible. “I just got home, and Dad said there was a bunch of police cars here.”
    “And you came to check it out?”
    An eyebrow arched up. “Uh, yeah. I’m here.”
    I flushed because that was a stupid question. “Everything’s fine. They were just… um, checking out the house.”
    A look of doubt crossed his striking face. “But you’re okay?”
    Earlier, when I mentioned how many times I’d been asked that question, I didn’t think I could stand being asked one more time, but for some reason, it didn’t irritate me now. “I’m really fine.”
    His eyes met mine again, and as we stood there, I could clearly remember the last time he’d been on my porch. It was the night, the first time, I’d told him I never wanted to talk to him again. Tears had streamed down my face, and I’d been so angry and so embarrassed.
    And so heartbroken.
    Jensen opened his mouth as if he was about to