Page 23 of Dead Girls Don’t Forget

I turned to him. “What is wrong with you?”

The corner of his mouth twitched. Not quite a smile. I looked back at my notes.

A second later his hand moved. He caught a loose strand of my hair and tucked it behind my ear, casual as breathing. The spark hit sharp and electric. It spread before I could stop it, stealing my breath in a small hitch. I hated that.

I fixed him with my best I-will-murder-you-in-your-sleep stare. He did not flinch. If anything, faint amusement touched his gaze.

“Go out with me,” he said.

My brain stalled. My cat swooned.

“No.”

Jackson studied me for a beat, then leaned back in his chair.

A moment later Professor Hartley walked in and the lecture began. Twenty minutes in, Jackson slid a piece of paper between us. You missed a detail.

I looked at it, then at the board, then at my own notes, and he was right—I had. I corrected the line and slipped the paper into my notebook. The man was smart, really smart. He saw connections others missed and read rooms the same way I did, and that worried me more than anything.

Smart people noticed things that other people missed. Patterns where others saw noise. And I was sitting next to one of them four days a week, in a class about criminal behavior, while carrying three more names on a list that nobody in this building could know existed.

When the lecture ended, I packed quickly and stepped into the aisle, making it only two steps before someone barreled into my bag from behind. The sudden jerk pulled me off balance and my foot slipped.

Jackson moved before I could fall. His arm came around me, pulling me in against his chest, steady and immediate, and for one suspended moment I was simply there, held, my face turned into the fabric of his shirt.

Pine. Warmth. Wolf.

My cat melted.

“Watch it,” he said over my head to the girl who had pushed me, but she was already hurrying away.

He let me go once I was steady, though the imprint of him lingered. I straightened, adjusted my bag, and reset my face while my pulse hammered, refusing to examine why I felt so flustered.

I glanced toward where the girl had disappeared, using the moment to breathe and reset, but instead I caught Naomi standing at the lecture hall doors. Her expression tightened when she saw how close we still were, something dark flashing across her face before the fake smile slipped back into place. She pushed off the doorframe and headed straight for us.

“Jackson, can I steal you for a second?” She reached out like she expected him to follow.

He did not. “I’m good.”

Her hand froze. “I just thought we could talk about the group assignment,” she tried, softer.

I did not wait for the rest. I took the opening and started down the aisle. Behind me I heard Jackson say, “I finished my part.”

He caught up with me in the corridor. “Most people say goodbye before they leave.”

“I’m not most people.”

“No. You’re really not.”

I kept walking and he fell back, letting distance open between us. It should have felt like victory, but I had only made it halfway down the hall when his voice rang out behind me.

“See you tomorrow, Harper!”

Every student in earshot turned. He knew exactly what he was doing. I clenched my jaw and kept walking like I had not heard a thing.

Chapter 10: Maybe I Was Wrong

Saturday morning was colder than the rest of the week. Both teams were already gathering on the track when I got there. The field buzzed with athletes warming up.