Infinite (Strange and Beautiful, Book 1) (48 page)

The
other space was Jackson’s sleeping area, and it looked much like a typical
guy’s room. His bed was tucked back, hidden behind the stairs. It was large and
messy, with blankets shoved to the end of the bed. He had a couple of dressers
with the tops filled untidily with various items. There were also posters
scattered around the room. Most of them were movies, and I guessed Jackson got
them from work.

He
also had a huge corner desk. His laptop sat closed in the middle, and there
were papers scattered all around as well as a box of Prism pencils, which I
knew Skylar preferred to use when drawing. I was curious to see if any of the
papers were more of Jackson’s drawings, but I didn’t want to be nosy and just
start investigating.

There
were a few items scattered across the floor, like shoes and articles of
clothing, but it was neither terribly messy nor too clean. It mostly looked
comfortable and lived in.

“I
like your room,” I said, turning to Jackson who had wondered off toward the
couch.

He
smiled, seeming relieved, as if he’d actually been worried about what I thought
of his living space. “Thanks.”

I
smiled back, biting my lip. I glanced down at my hands, where I was still
clutching his gift, and realized I should maybe give it to him. I crossed the
room toward him, stopping a couple of feet away. “Here’s your present.” I held
it out to him.

“Cool.”
His eyes lit with excitement, and he grinned. “Thanks.”

What
is it about teenage boys and presents? I wondered.

He
stepped the couple of feet necessary and sat down on the couch. I had to take
twice as many steps to get to the couch, but I remained standing as he
unwrapped the present.

Once
he tore the paper away, he took a second to look over the cover. I was sure he
was trying to wrap his head around the non-green cover of
The Perks of Being
A Wallflower.
“Wow,” he finally said, “I’ve never seen this cover before.” 

“It’s
an import,” I explained as he brushed his hand over the gray cover. I bit my
lip as I came to sit beside him on the couch.

“Really?”
he glanced over me, looking both surprised and impressed.

“Yeah,”
I nodded. “I tried to find a signed copy. I looked on eBay and everything, but
no luck.”

“Thanks
for the thought,” he grinned, “but this is really awesome, signed or not.” He
turned the book over to the study the back. “To be honest, I’m surprised you
didn’t keep it for yourself since it’s your favorite book.”

“I
considered it,” I confessed with a grin. “But I wanted you to have it.”

“Well,
thank you.” Jackson met my eyes and smiled. Then he looked away, his cheeks
tinted pink. “I never told you, but this is probably the first book I ever read
purely for enjoyment.”

“Really?”
Jackson seemed to read just as much as I did, so I couldn’t quite curb my
surprise at his confession.

“Yeah,”
he nodded, flipping through the book. “I had a hard time with reading when I
was younger. I had a hell of a time with schoolwork. I guess for whatever
reason, reading just didn’t quite take for me as quickly as everyone else. I
mostly passed each grade by the skin of my teeth.”

From
the way his shoulders were hunched and the fact that he wasn’t looking at me, I
could tell he was embarrassed.

“So
what changed?”

“My
mom got me a tutor.” Jackson shrugged, trying to be casual but I could tell he
was still uncomfortable talking about it. “I was so mad at first, but once my
tutor figured out that reading was a huge part of my problem, we kind of went
back to basics.”

I
thought he was going to leave it at that, but he sighed and went on. “I felt
really stupid at first because she made me read kids books, like stuff we were
supposed to be reading in kindergarten, you know?”

He
glanced at me, and I nodded.

“But
it worked. Once words started making more sense, homework got easier and my
grades started to improve. Then my tutor suggested I read some books on my own.
For fun, she said, and at first I thought she must be crazy because I still
didn’t find anything fun about reading.” He paused, chuckling slightly.

“But
one day she was late to meet me at the library—that was where we met—and I saw
Perks
and started browsing through it. It was easy to read, and I was halfway through
the book before my tutor showed up for our session.”

“And
you understood what she meant about reading for fun?” I guessed.

“Yeah,”
he smiled softly.

“I’m
glad.” The selfish part of me was happy he’d picked up
The Perks of Being a
Wallflower
since it was the catalyst for our first conversation, but the
better part of me was just happy Jackson was able to push through his reading
difficulties.

Because
I was sure Jackson was embarrassed enough—though he needn’t be—I decided to
change the subject. “Thank you for my presents,” I said. “I really loved the
mix CD, and the artwork was amazing.”

“I’m
glad you liked it,” Jackson whispered, tilting his head to meet my eyes. His
cheeks were still stained a light pink. I hadn’t realized he was so modest.

“Loved
it,” I corrected. “You’re a really good artist.”

Jackson
combed his hair back away from his eyes as he mumbled, “Thanks.”

I
realized I wasn’t doing a very good job at making him feel less embarrassed,
and I was sure he was waiting for me to bring up his note. I was regretting not
thinking this through before coming over. Finding the words to articulate what
his words meant to me and how I felt for him seemed harder than it should have,
considering I always seemed to have something to say.

I
finally settled on saying, “I’m glad you decided to quit smoking.” That earned
me a small smile, but Jackson didn’t say anything, so I pressed on. “How’s that
going so far?”

“Well,
it’s on,” Jackson shrugged, reaching over and pulling up the sleeve of his
plain white t-shirt to reveal the patch adhered to his skin.

“Had
any cravings yet?”

“Not
yet.” He pulled his sleeve back down and seemed to search for something to do
with his hand before he settled on picking absently at the worn fabric on the
couch. 

“That’s
good.”

“Yeah,”
he agreed. “Especially since I just ate and I usually go smoke after.”

It
was yet another piece of Jackson I didn’t know before. Nasty habit or not, I
liked finding out more about him.

It
fell quiet again. I had no idea what Jackson was thinking or feeling, but the
cadence of my heart was frantic as I racked my brain for something sweet,
eloquent or witty to say. I didn’t want him to see just how nervous I was, and
I so badly wanted to just blurt out that I liked him too before asking him to
just kiss me already.

The
prospect of kissing him, of course, brought on a whole new wave of anxiety. I’d
never kissed anyone before, so I’d have no idea what I was doing. What if I was
such a terrible kisser that Jackson changed his mind about how he felt about
me? What if my lips were too dry or too wet? I’d only dabbed on a bit of
flavored lip gloss before leaving home, but what if he didn’t like that? What
if I slobbered on him or did something equally embarrassing? Oh God. What if he
tried to slip his tongue into my mouth? I liked Jackson a lot, but I didn’t
think I was ready for that.

I
cursed myself for not considering all of this before coming over. I couldn’t
help but wonder what Jackson must be thinking. What if he thought I’d taken the
part of his note about pretending he hadn’t said anything about liking me to
heart because I didn’t feel the same way?

My
poor heart felt like it was going to explode, and I knew if I was this anxious,
I couldn’t even begin to imagine what Jackson might be feeling. At this rate,
it was likely to drive him to rip off the patch and go back to smoking to calm
his nerves. I felt desperate enough that I might have joined him.

Finally
I couldn’t take it any longer and blurted, “I like you, too, Jackson.”

Jackson,
who had been examining his copy of
Perks
for a second time, looked up
and the surprise was evident in his expression. “You do?”

I
nodded, probably a little too enthusiastically, and smiled. The subtle worry
that was previously etched on Jackson’s face fell away. He breathed out a huge
sigh as his mouth split into that breathtaking grin. I laughed a little,
nervously, at the abrupt change, but then I bit my lip, unsure how to proceed.
“So . . .”

Jackson
raised an eyebrow as if to say, “Yes?”

I
didn’t know how to finish the sentence, though, so we just stared at each
other. My heart was still racing, but the cause had shifted from nervousness to
relief, as I looked into his eyes. They’d changed colors yet again, shifting
into a warm gold, and I understood what Bert McCracken from The Used meant in
the song Jackson included on the mix CD that talked about catching fire and
melting into someone’s eyes.

I
wasn’t sure if it was only hope on my part or if it was really there, but I
felt like Jackson and I were on the same wavelength as we continued to hold
each other’s gaze. Inside my head, a broken record repeated the refrain, “Kiss
me. Kiss me. Kiss me.”

At
some point, apparently, the words moved from inside my head and slipped out of
my mouth because Jackson’s eyes lit before taking on a darker hue as his mouth
split into another grin and he whispered, “Okay.”

Then
he was leaning forward, his mouth descending upon mine, and my eyes fluttered
shut as our lips touched. I’d always heard people use these cliché descriptions
about how amazingly, breathtakingly perfect their first kiss was—either in
general or with a specific person—but I’d never understood what they meant.
None of those words really described how it actually felt to have another
person’s lips against your own in such an intimate way.

Much
to my disappointment, I found I couldn’t think of anything other than a bunch
of clichés to describe it either. But the slow, purposeful way Jackson moved
his lips against mine as he dug his fingers into my hair was exhilarating. I’d
always thought of his mouth as lush and full, but his lips were also impossibly
soft and smooth. There was only a faint tickle from the light stubble along his
upper lip. Normally, I hated anything that tickled, but this only seemed to add
another exciting dimension.

Since
I knew—okay, maybe I just assumed—he was the one with the experience, I let
Jackson lead, but I slowly found myself feeling bolder and doing what seemed to
come naturally.

When
we finally pulled apart, gasping for air, I had to look away. I could feel my
face flaming red and my lips felt swollen in the most delicious way. A goofy
grin tried to force its way upon my face, but I managed to keep it at bay.

“So,
better than an ashtray?” I could hear the grin in Jackson’s voice before I even
looked at him.

I
rolled eyes. “Considering I’ve never kissed an ashtray or anything else for the
matter, I’m going to make an educated guess and say, yes, that was much better
than an ashtray.” At my admission, my already flaming cheeks grew even hotter.

“Good
to know,” Jackson chuckled.

His
easygoing teasing should have set me at ease, but I was still self-conscious.
“Was I okay?” I had to ask. I couldn’t stand the uncertainty. “I mean, like I
said, I’ve never kissed anyone before, so if I was terrible—”

Jackson
cut me off. “You weren’t terrible. Not by any stretch of the imagination,” he
assured me. “Believe me, I know about horrible first kisses.  I actually bit
the girl’s lip by accident my first time.”

“No!”
I tried to stifle a laugh, but it broke through. I glanced at Jackson, hoping I
hadn’t offended him. “Sorry!”

“No,
no.” He held up his hands. “Go on and laugh. It was horrifying, no doubt, but I
know it’s funny.”

I
tried not to laugh too long at Jackson’s expense, but as funny as it was, it
was also a relief to find that someone like Jackson, who always seemed so calm,
cool, and collected, wasn’t always so smooth. It also helped me relax a bit.

“So,
now that I’ve bared my soul,” Jackson smirked, “what would you like to do?”

I
was trying to work out a subtle way to suggest more kissing, but before I had a
chance, Chloe’s high, melodic voice rang out from the top of the stairs.
“Jacks! Jordy says for you to stop playing with your friend and come upstairs
and play a game with us!”

Jackson
groaned. “I’m going to kill my brother.”

I
captured my bottom lip between my teeth as the corners of my mouth tilted up.
“I guess that decides what we’re going to do now.”

“Sorry,”
Jackson mumbled, but I shrugged. I didn’t mind. I wanted to get to know his
family better.

Upstairs,
we gathered around the kitchen table with Clare, Chloe, Eric and Jordan. We
tried to play Trivial Pursuit, but we were all so bad at it that we had to keep
giving each other clues in order to make any headway. We finally gave up and
pulled out Monopoly, but Jordan was a horrible cheat and Chloe got bored pretty
fast.

“Let’s
play something fun,” she complained.

I
couldn’t argue with her there. I liked both of the previous games in very small
doses.

Jackson
eyed his youngest sister. “What do you suggest then, Tweety?” My heart melted a
little at the endearment. I wondered where it came from and made a note to ask
Jackson about it later.

“Operation!”
Chloe exclaimed.

Jordan
groaned. “I’ll pass if I have to look at that fat dude with no junk.”

“Jordan!”
Clare cried. “That’s disgusting.”

Chloe’s
little eyebrows drew together in confusion. “What junk?”

Eric
shot a look at Jordan that seemed to say, “Now look what you’ve done.”