Infinite (Strange and Beautiful, Book 1) (42 page)

jackyourhart:
But I didn’t
give you a reason not disbelieve her.

thesillywallflower:
Maybe that’s
true. Do you think maybe we could get together and talk?

jackyourhart:
Sure, I’ll be
there in 15 minutes.

Before
I even had a chance to reply, Jackson signed off. I glanced at the clock and
saw that, despite the darkness that had overtaken the sky, it was only going on
seven. I hurried to the bathroom and brushed my hair and teeth, hoping to
remove the pepperoni and garlic from my breath. I sprayed on some of Skylar’s
perfume from Victoria’s Secret for good measure before going downstairs.

Mom
was in the utility room, folding laundry.

“Is
it okay if I go out with a friend for a little while?” I asked.

Mom
glanced up from folding socks—I was pleased to note the absent smile was
back—and her smile widened. “Sure, sweetie, just make sure you’re back before
ten.”

Since
she didn’t ask any questions, I assumed she thought the friend in question was
Tegan. I probably should have informed her otherwise, but I didn’t want to go
into it. I knew she’d ask questions and probably want to meet Jackson,
formally, which would just be awkward since things weren’t solid between us at
the moment.

I
waited by the front door after slipping on my shoes and coat. Every time a car
passed the house I hoped it was Jackson. My heart raced as I waited to see him.
I’d missed him a lot. Even though I’d got a good look at him on Saturday at the
mall and caught glimpses of him in the school halls, it wasn’t the same. I
wanted to see him again and not be angry or feel awkward like I had over the
last few weeks.

When
Jackson’s Camaro pulled up along the curb out front, I yelled to Mom that I was
leaving before I hurried out of the house. The air was cool and my cheeks were
pink with cold by the time I reached the passenger’s side door. I pulled the
door open and hopped inside, immediately reveling in the warm air exuding from
the vents.

There
was an awkward silence while we stared at each other. I could feel Jackson’s
eyes on my face while I examined his by the dim light cast from the streetlight
overhead.

Finally,
I smiled nervously and greeted him with a lame, “Hi.”

“Hey,”
he grinned. It was quiet for another moment before Jackson finally said, “You
better put on your seatbelt.”

“Oh.”
I hurried to pull it across my chest, and there was a resounding click as I
slide it into place.

“Okay,”
he grinned, “now we can go.”

“Where
are we going?”

“I
don’t know,” Jackson said after considering for a moment. “Where’s a good place
to talk?”

I
bit my lip and shrugged. “I don’t know. I can usually talk anywhere.”

“That
I can believe.” Even in the darkness I could tell from his tone that he was
teasing good-naturedly.

Finally,
we decided to go to the park. Jackson put the car in park but left the engine
on so that we would stay warm. Aside from a few insane people out jogging, the
park was virtually empty. The park was well lit with streetlights and Christmas
lights on some of the trees, though, and we silently stared at it for a moment,
taking in all of the decorations.

“Those
people have to be cold,” I commented absently as I watched a lady power walk
past us.

“You’d
think so,” Jackson agreed.

“I
think I’d join a gym,” I said. “At least in the winter.”

“I
think I would too.”

Silence
prevailed once again. It was so unlike me to be at such a loss for words. I
really didn’t know what to make of it. If not for the tension still in the air,
I thought the silence might have been comfortable, but we weren’t there just
yet. With two weeks to cool off, it wasn’t so bad, but the weight of our
argument still hung overhead. When I couldn’t stand the quiet any longer, I did
what I was good at: I started rambling.

“I’m
really sorry about the things I said to you. I guess . . .” I began. “I guess I
was really just jealous.” I bit my lip, trying to decide how much to reveal. I
glanced at Jackson, and he was looking at me. His eyes seemed to say, “Go on.”

Taking
a deep breath, and then letting it out slowly, I went on. “You see, it’s always
been so easy for Skylar. She knows so many people and has a lot of friends, but
I’m not like her. I don’t have many friends, but the ones I do have mean a lot
to me.”

I
wanted to clarify that he was one of those friends, but I couldn’t bring myself
to voice the words. “You and I seemed to be getting to know each other pretty
well, but then Skylar came around and grabbed your attention. I’m used to her
being the center of attention, but I’m not used to sharing my friends with her,
so it really upset me.”

I
sighed, hating the next words that came out of my mouth. “When she said you
were only hanging out with me to get to her, it was easy to believe her.” I
rolled my eyes. “I mean, how could I not believe her? After all, why would you
want to hang out with me? Lots of people think I’m weird, and I can be such a
spaz sometimes, so—”

“Silly,”
Jackson cut in.

I
abruptly stopped rambling. I’d been staring at my hands by then, but I peeked
over at him. When my eyes met his, he smiled gently.

“It’s
not that unbelievable. Anyone with half a brain can see how cool you are. Don’t
put yourself down. Just because you don’t follow the crowd, it doesn’t make you
a spaz,” he said. “Besides, why would I need to use you to get to Skylar
anyway? I already knew her, and I’d like to think I could get the girl without
resorting to such backhanded tactics. Besides, in case I didn’t clarify this,
I’m not interested in Skylar that way.”

I
couldn’t keep the surprise from my voice. “You’re not?”

“No.”
He shook his head to emphasize the word.

“But
you think she’s pretty,” I pointed out, remembering what he’d said in his note.

“I
think a lot of girls are pretty,” he shrugged. “That doesn’t mean I want to
date them all.”

“Oh.”
I hadn’t considered that.

“I’m
sorry too,” Jackson sighed. “You were right. I did ignore you when Skylar was
around. I didn’t mean to, but that doesn’t change the fact I did.” He frowned,
shaking his head slightly, before he went on. “Coming from a big family like
mine, I know what it’s like to feel ignored or like you’re walking in someone’s
shadow.”

He
looked up, meeting my eyes and I could see the sincerity of his remorse in
their depths. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way, Silly.”

My
first instinct was to say, “It’s okay,” but I suspected that wasn’t the kind of
answer Jackson wanted or needed to hear. Instead, I said, “Thanks, Jackson.”

He
nodded but didn’t say anything else.

I
bit my lip nervously as I worked up the courage to ask the question weighing on
my mind. Finally, I blew out a deep breath and forced the words out. “Are you
still angry with me?”

“No.”
Jackson shook his head. “But next time you want to know something, will you do
me a favor?”

I
raised my eyebrows, as if to ask what the favor might be.

“Just
ask me,” he said. “I can tell that it’s hard for you. I’m guessing you don’t
like conflict, but if you want to know something about me, I promise I’ll
answer. Okay?”

I
nodded with wide eyes. I was shocked he was able to figure that out about me.

After
a moment, he asked, “Are you still angry with me?”

“No,”
I answered and I knew it was true. This talk had helped remove any of my
remaining reservations.

“Good,”
Jackson smiled, “so we’re cool again, right?”

“Right,”
I grinned.

In light
of my reconciliation with Jackson, I was beyond relieved and giddy. Tegan, who
was probably just as happy as I was because I was no longer moping around,
thought it was cause to celebrate.

On
Friday evening, she demanded, “We need to do something. Call Jackson and ask
him to go to the movies.”

“What?
Ask him out on a date?” I was stricken with nerves.

“No,”
Tegan rolled her eyes without malice. “Ask him to go with you and I. We’ll
tackle dating later.”

I
eyed her speculatively, wondering what exactly that meant, but I decided to
wait her out and see what she was thinking. For the time being, a night out
with friends sounded like just the thing I needed after the long weeks of
stress.

Unfortunately,
I didn’t have Jackson’s phone number. I checked online first to see if he was
on AIM, but no such luck. I ran downstairs and grabbed the phonebook, but there
were a few Harts listed in our area. It didn’t help that I wasn’t sure where he
lived.

There
was a Lawrence Hart and JD Hart listed. I remembered Jackson saying that his
oldest brother Eric’s middle name was Jamison, after their dad, so through the
process of elimination, I decided JD Hart was most likely the number I was
looking for. Also, I thought the address listed was closer of the two options.

Nervously,
I dialed the number with Tegan looking on like an eager puppy. I was beginning
to suspect she needed a boyfriend or crush of her own because she seemed to be
living vicariously through me, which was just kind of sad given how screwed up
things had been with me lately.

The
phone rang three times before someone picked up. I thought it sounded like
Jackson, but after calling the Tylers’ house and getting Tierney and Tegan
confused on many occasions because they sounded alike over the phone, I made a
habit of always asking for whoever I was calling for instead of saying
something stupid to the wrong person. “May I please speak to Jackson?”

“Yeah,
speaking.” He sounded a bit guarded, like he was anticipating wrangling with a
telemarketer or something.

“Oh,
hey,” I sighed in relief. “I thought it was you. It’s Silly.”

“Hey.”
The relief was evident in his voice, and he sounded more like his usual laid
back self. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,
which is why I’m calling,” I replied. “Tegan and I were thinking of going to
the movies tonight, and I thought I’d see if you wanted to go with us.”

“What
are you going to see?”

“Um,”
I bit my lip before I answered, “
Charlotte’s Web
.” It wasn’t until then
I realized how bizarre it was that I was asking a seventeen-year-old guy to go
see
Charlotte’s Web
.

“Oh
yeah, that just came out last week,” Jackson commented. “What time does the
movie start?”

“Seven
fifteen.” I’d had enough foresight to check the times before I called even if I
hadn’t considered how childish the movie selection might be.

“That’s
right,” Jackson said, as if he remembered this information, which I realized
maybe he did since he worked at the theater. “Should I pick you guys up at your
place or Tegan’s or  . . .” he trailed off.

“Could
you?” I asked. “We’re at my place. I’m sure my mom would appreciate it if you
saved her the trip.”

“Sure,
that’s no problem,” Jackson agreed. “I’ll be by around a quarter after six, so
we can get there a little early. With it being so close to the holiday it’ll
either be extremely empty or very crowded.”

“Okay,
that works. I’ll see you then.” I hung up, grinning from ear to ear, after we
said goodbye.

Tegan
raised her eyebrows. “Maybe I should suddenly feel ill and need to go home so
you and Jackson can go alone.”

“No!”
I was both tempted and horrified by the idea. “I want to hang out with both of
you,” I said, calming myself. “Besides, I don’t want to trick Jackson into a
date. That would be lame.”

Tegan
shrugged and the expression on her face seemed to say, “It was worth a try.”

“But
I do need your help finding something to wear,” I commented. I’d been
sloth-like most of the day. I hadn’t bothered to shower yet and was still
wearing pajamas.

With
Tegan’s help, I decided on the cream colored v-neck ribbed tunic Tegan gave me
for Christmas—we’d exchanged gifts earlier in the afternoon. It was very
pretty, but the low neckline left me feeling a bit exposed when I put it on
after showering.

“Cleavage
is key, Silly,” Tegan insisted.

“I
don’t really have that much cleavage,” I pointed out, glancing down at my modest
bosom.

“You’ve
got plenty,” Tegan sighed. “Besides, the point is not to be spilling out, but
to give a hint of skin.”

Well,
I decided, I definitely had that covered. Or, rather, not covered, as the case
may be.

Despite
the lower neckline, I couldn’t deny that the top looked good on me. Tegan
pulled out the frayed denim jeans Mom had complained about buying to go with
the top. Then I let Tegan fuss with my hair for a while. Despite telling her it
wouldn’t hold a curl, she still gave it a try, but it was to no avail.

Finally,
she sat the curling iron down and threw her hands up. “Okay, I give,” she
muttered. “You were right.”

In
the end, she pulled the sides back with clips, while complaining, “You need to
wear your hair back away from your face more.”

“Why?”
I was mystified.

“How
is Jackson ever going to figure out what color your eyes are if your hair is
always in the way?”

I
frowned. “I doubt Jackson
cares
what color my eyes are.”

“Then
why are we even bothering with all of this primping?” she demanded, eyes
narrowed and hands on hips.

I
shrunk away from Tegan’s knowing gaze. “Because I want to look nice.”

She
grinned then. “Then our mission has been accomplished.”

“Thanks,”
I nodded, hoping she could tell I was sincere.

I
went to the bathroom to dab on some of the perfume Mom gave me the other day,
saying she never used it because it was too fruity for her liking and she
didn’t want it to go to waste. I almost wondered if Skylar had complained to
Mom about me using her perfume on the sly. I figured maybe this was Mom’s way
of solving the problem. Either way, I was pleased. I liked the new bottle of
perfume better than what Skylar used anyway.