said, and there wasn’t an ounce of conviction in his voice.
Craning my neck until I could see whatever it was, my breath started to come in short gasps. My gaze fell to the still form lying on the roof, mere inches from the now open window.
It was a bird.
I pressed my hand against my mouth as I stepped back. Even in the faint light I could tell what kind of bird it was.
It was a cardinal.
#
Neither of us slept after that.
Jensen had carefully disposed of the poor bird as the sun began to rise. He stayed in my house as I showered and got ready for school quickly. Then he had me take the quick walk to his house.
“I’m not leaving you alone,” he’d said.
I hadn’t argued.
His parents had already left for work when we crossed the driveway to his house. Like mine, the home was an old two-story brick renovated back when we were knee high to a grasshopper. Bright flowers overflowed the flower boxes attached to the porch railing, a cluster of reds, blues, and whites. Rose bushes climbed the ends of the porch, scenting the air.
I lingered on the wide front porch for a moment, struck by how many years had passed since I’d walked through these doors.
“You okay?” he asked, holding the door open.
“Yeah.” I forced myself forward.
My first impression was that very little had changed since the last time I’d been here. His house still smelled of apples and cinnamon. Woven baskets were everywhere. Some empty. Others holding flower arrangements or odds and ends. His mom was into country—everything wooden and old looking.
“I’m going to take a quick shower.” Jensen stopped at the stairs. “Make yourself at home.”
“Okay.” I placed my bag near the front door.
Jensen started to turn and then stopped. Walking to where I stood, he clasped my cheeks with warm, steady hands. My breath caught as he tilted my head back. Dipping his chin, he pressed a quick kiss against my forehead.
“I’ll be right back,” he said.
And he left me standing there like I’d forgotten how to breathe or walk. Raising my hand, I touched the center of my forehead as my heart kicked around in my ribs.
What were we doing?
I didn’t know, but this morning we’d crossed the line of friendship, and Jensen hadn’t appeared like he planned on going back. I couldn’t think about that right now.
Moving further into the house was like talking a walk in the past. Everything seemed like it had before they moved. Of course, a few things were in different places, but it was basically the same. I could easily remember racing through the rec room, plopping down on the beanbags that used to be in front of the TV, and grabbing a game controller.
I always kicked Jensen’s ass at Mario Go Cart.
The dining room was only used for special occasions—birthdays and holidays. I went down the short hallway that led to the kitchen, where I’d spent many evenings scarfing down pizza and sloppy joes.
Framed pictures lined the hall, most of them of Jensen’s older brother Jonathan. I stopped, my gaze traveling over the photos of the good-looking older boy in high school pictures and random family photos.
God, Jensen looked so much like him, down to the strong jaw and full, expressive lips.
I glanced over the rest of the photos, one in particular catching my attention. An ache pierced my chest as my gaze traveled over the picture. It was Christmas, taken several years ago, when we’d just started middle school.
Gavin with his glasses, vaguely resembling Harry Potter, grinned at the camera. Jensen, taller than the rest of us, had his long arms wrapped around my shoulders. I wasn’t looking at the camera. Nope. I’d been staring up at Jensen. And beside me was Penn. He had a wreath around his neck, poking his head out between the holly berries and twigs.
“Remember that Christmas? Gavin and Penn had a cranberry sauce eating contest. Both of them ended up eating so much that when they started hurling it back up, we thought they were dying.”
Swallowing the knot in my throat, I turned at the sound of Jensen’s voice. My lips parted. He stood there, tugging the sleeves out of a shirt.
Jeans hung low on his hips, revealing those fascinating indents and that amazing stomach of his. His hair was still wet, and curls clung to his forehead.
I looked away quickly, feeling my cheeks burn. “That was fast.”
“I’m quick like that.” Grinning, he sauntered past me. “Want something to eat? I think we got Frosted Flakes. You still eat them?”
“Yeah.” I followed him into the roomy kitchen that was different from when we were kids. It had been completely renovated, country style with white cabinets and dark floors. I hopped up onto the barstool at the island.
He pulled the shirt on over his head and then set about making breakfast. Within minutes, a bowl of sugary flakes were set in front of me. “I think we need to let the police know about the bird.”
The flakes crept down my throat. “So you don’t think it was a coincidence?” That was a stupid question, but I guess I was holding out on the hope that it was.
He propped his hip against the island, cradling his bowl of cereal. “I don’t know, but why take any chances?”
“Agreed,” I murmured, watching the flakes float in the milk. “I’ll call Trooper Ritter on the way to school. He left me his number.” Glancing up, I wasn’t surprised to see he’d already finished off his cereal. “I just don’t understand why.”
Or maybe I didn’t want to understand why.
Jensen was quiet as he washed out his bowl and placed it in the dishwasher. “Do people ever have a reason for doing things like this?”
Words flew to the tip of my tongue, and I wanted to swallow them back, but I couldn’t. “I don’t think this is something random. Like Martinsburg suddenly drew the interest of a serial killer,” I said, watching the muscles tense under the back of his shirt. “And I know you don’t think that either.”
“I don’t.” He turned around, leaning back against the counter. “I just don’t want to scare you.”
“I’m already scared,” I admitted in a whisper.
His striking face tightened. “I know. And I hate that.”
“But that doesn’t change anything. All of this is related. I know it is.”
He shook his head as his jaw worked. “But what? You weren’t friends with Vee and Monica. Other than living in the same town and going to the same school, you all don’t have anything in common.”
I thought about the list of names I’d thrown together in my head, and as I stared at him, a sick feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. “But we do.”
Jensen frowned. “How?”
It took a lot to say the name. “Penn.”
He stared at me, eyes widening slightly. “What?”
A chill took hold. “Penn loved cardinals. Even you pointed that out. Vee and Monica used to pick on Penn, remember? In middle school, they terrorized him. So did Wendy. And Brock and Mason—”
“Ella.” Jensen pushed off the counter, thrusting a hand through his damp hair.
“And that day?” I continued, ignoring the warning. “We were just as bad as them. You know we were. You and I—”
“Stop.” Jensen crossed the room, gripping my shoulders. A muscle ticked along his jaw. “I don’t know what’s happening, but it has nothing to do with the past, and Penn is in the past. This has nothing to do with him. It can’t, Ella.”
I met his pale stare. “Explain the cardinals then? Why them?”
“Who knows? But it can’t be about him.” His hands slipped over my shoulders as he took a step back. “Penn is dead, Ella.”
I shot to my feet, suddenly wishing I hadn’t said anything. I wheeled around, heading for the foyer. “We should leave.”
“No.” Jensen caught up to me, blocking the door to the hall. “I know you’ve let guilt eat up your life the last four years. I know that’s why you started seeing
that shrink.”
My stomach dropped. How had he known about Dr. Oliver? He’d still lived here in Martinsburg and we’d still talked at that point, but I hadn’t told him. Gavin only found out once we were in high school and started dating.
“And now this guilt has warped into something else. How could it be about Penn? He’s been dead for four years.”
“I know how long he’s been dead,” I snapped, anger rushing to the surface.
His pales eyes flashed a deeper blue. “Then how in the world can this be about him?”
“I don’t know!” I shouted, dragging in a deep breath. “Maybe someone is paying us back for what they did—for what we did!”
Jensen drew back as if I’d slapped him. He stared at me. “We didn’t do anything.”
A harsh, short laugh escaped me. “How can you say that we didn’t? Because we did, Jensen. Gavin told us not to, that Penn wouldn’t be okay with it, but we didn’t listen to Gavin at all.”
“Oh, my God…” He shook his head as he stared down at me. Varying degrees of horror and disbelief flickered across his face. “You think…?”
He didn’t have to finish that sentence, because I knew where it was heading, and so did he. I didn’t look away as I struggled with my next breath.
Jensen snapped forward, clutching my cheeks. His wide gaze searched mine as he held me in place. “We didn’t kill Penn, Ella.”
I sucked in air. “We didn’t?”
Chapter 14
Mentioning Penn was a conversation killer.
Jensen was stoic as he drove me to school, and we ended up having to park in the back of the lot. Rays of sun were just starting to break through the thick, gray clouds, lifting some of the chill in the air.
I walked ahead of Jensen, angry with him and with myself. I knew it sounded crazy, that anything happening today would have something to do with Penn, but Jensen hadn’t needed to look at me with such pity either.
Like I was losing my mind by insisting such.
I shouldn’t have said anything. And I shouldn’t have let him stay last night, sleep in my bed, and almost kiss me either.
Jensen caught up to me when I reached the door. Catching my arm, he tugged me out of the path of others. Several students stared in our direction.
“What?” I asked, trying to pull my arm free.
His eyes narrowed. “I’m just letting you know that there’re a lot of things we still need to talk about.”
“I don’t want to talk about Penn—”
“Not him. Not any of that.” His hand slid up to my elbow as he dipped his head to mine. “I’m talking us.”
“Us?” I squeaked.
“Yeah, we need to talk about what happened between us this morning,” he said. “Don’t think I have forgotten about that.”
Annoyed by the turn in conversation and, unfortunately, turned on by him, I dug deep, latching onto the irritation brimming in my veins. “Well, I have.”
“Oh.” Jensen laughed. “That’s doubtful.”
I ground my teeth until my jaw ached. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
“There’s a lot to talk about,” he corrected, and then he smiled. “And we will talk.”
“We won’t be—”
Jensen hauled me against his chest and lowered his head until his lips weren’t even an inch from mine. Air leaked out of my lungs. He was so close that I could feel the warmth of his breath, almost taste his kiss. My eyes drifted shut as a riot of sensation rocketed through me.
When he spoke, his lips brushed mine. “Exactly.”
My eyes popped open.
Jensen let go and winked. He caught the edge of the door, holding it open. “You better get inside or you’re going to be late.”
For a moment, all I could do was stare at him, and then I bounced out of it. “Jerk,” I said, storming past him.
He laughed, and while the sound was all kinds of lovely, I wanted to drop kick him in the back of the head. Instead, I shot him a dark look before swinging around a cluster of people near the entrance to the gymnasium. As close as I was close to them, I could hear bits and pieces of their conversation.
“It had to be him,” a girl said. “He was dating her and no one knew?”
My spine stiffened.
A junior boy shrugged brawny shoulders. “Yeah, but come on, Gavin? I don’t think so.”
“Whatever. If you are hiding a relationship, there’s a reason,” another girl argued. “Maybe she was pregnant and he killed her.”
Oh my God.
“But what about Monica? Or… or her.”
I pivoted around, pinning each of them with a look. “Gavin doesn’t have anything to do with what’s been happening.”
Not giving them a chance to respond, I turned on my heel and picked up my pace. By the time I got to first period, I was ready to karate chop anyone who looked at me a second longer than I felt was necessary. The whole school had to have heard about Gavin’s closet relationship with Vee.
God, that didn’t look good.
None of this did.
I slumped in my seat as my thoughts unraveled, wandering back to the morning conversation with Jensen.
We didn’t kill Penn.
He was right in the sense we hadn’t physically done a thing to Penn, but that didn’t mean we were void of responsibility when it came to what had happened to him. We should’ve known better, but we had been selfish and so, so disloyal.
It happened in the fall of our seventh grade year, just when Jensen had started growing into his long arms and legs, and just when I started to really notice how he smiled, and how his eyes seemed to change color depending on his mood.
And I hadn’t been the only one to notice.
Girls like Wendy and Monica started coming around our lunch table and hanging around our little group when we headed outside. Gavin, Penn, and I knew they were there because of Jensen, even though he seemed to be oblivious to it.
I wasn’t.
Maybe it was during those long afternoon breaks when I knew deep down that I would lose Jensen to the cooler and the prettier friends. Maybe that was why it had been so easy for me to forgot about someone who’d been a friend to me since I could remember.
But it had happened the fall after we’d played truth or dare in the tree house, when Jensen had kissed me and Penn has asked if we’d be friends forever.
It was two weeks before Halloween and for the last week or so, Penn had been happy. His birthday was coming up and his parents were planning on combining Halloween with the event, and in spite of how the kids were at school, he was excited.
Then Brock decided to have a party at his house, the same day as Penn’s, and Jensen was invited. Looking back, I wondered if Brock had done it on purpose. Had caught wind of Penn’s plans and did it. Seemed childish, but from how others had treated Penn, to what Jensen and I had decided, I’d realized quickly that no matter how young people were, they were truly capable of anything.
Jensen had wanted to go to Brock’s party. After all, his brother and Brock’s were friends, but he hadn’t wanted to go alone, so in turn, he had invited me. And I hadn’t wanted to let Jensen go to the party without me, not when Wendy and Monica would be there.
I don’t know why it was so important that we go to Brock’s party, other than us being stupid and young. But Jensen and I had planned on doing both—going to Brock’s and then Penn’s. When Gavin had found out, he’d told us not to do it, that if Penn found out, he would be hurt, but we didn’t listen.
So on the day of Penn’s birthday party, Jensen and I had gone to Brock’s, fully intending on leaving early, but that wasn’t what happened. Even though Jensen had stayed by my side the whole time, paying no attention to the other girls, we didn’t leave early. I couldn’t even remember why. We’d just lost track of time.