Infinite (Strange and Beautiful, Book 1) (57 page)

“So
it’s kind of a mishmash of accents then?”

Jackson
nodded. “It’s faded over the years, though.”

“I
didn’t notice it at first,” I admitted. “I thought she just had a distinct way
of speaking.”

“I
guess maybe that’s true since she doesn’t really have one specific accent,”
Jackson conceded as our food arrived.

 While
we ate, we talked about school and the new schedules, as well as Luke’s
inescapable new band.

“Tell
me honestly,” Jackson grinned. “How do they sound?”

“Surprisingly
decent,” I admitted. “Right now they’re just learning some covers, and it’s all
instrumental since they haven’t found a lead singer.”

“Either
Stevie’s really interested or she’s just really opinionated.”

“I
think it’s a bit of both. She’s a huge music fan anyway, but her hints have
been dropping about as subtly as a rock,” I laughed. “I’m not sure Luke will
ever give her a shot. In case you hadn’t noticed, they don’t get along that
well.”

“I
never would have guessed,” Jackson smiled. “Between him telling her to get lost
all of the time and their admiration for communicating in sign language.”

“They’ve
always been like that,” I sighed. “Sometimes it’s amusing, but after a while,
it gets kind of old and you just have to learn to block it out.”

“Hopefully
the band will either find someone else or give Stevie a shot.” Jackson sounded
hopeful, and I knew I wasn’t the only one growing weary of their snarky
lunchtime chats.

“If
they could get along, I think it would be a pretty good fit. Stevie really can
sing.” I considered a moment, trying to figure out the best way to describe her
voice. “Her voice is kind of like Amy Lee meets Lacey Mosley with a hint of
Jenny Lewis.”

Jackson
considered the combination for a moment. “So, sort of indie folk rock?”

“Something
like that,” I nodded.

“Then
it sounds like Luke would be crazy not to put their problems aside and give her
a shot.”

“That,
and it would save everyone else’s sanity in the process.”

Dinner
zoomed by, filled with more conversation and the occasional comfortable
silence. I was somewhat surprised by how smoothly the evening was going. I’d
half expected to find myself feeling awkward or embarrassed again. As often as
Jackson and I spoke on the phone, online or at school, it was somewhat
different speaking face to face without being surrounded by friends and family,
but the awkwardness never came.

After
dinner, Jackson suggested we go to The Bean. “We can get some of that awesome
hot chocolate and maybe some dessert.”

“Sure,”
I agreed. “They probably have some kind of entertainment tonight, too, since
it’s Friday.”

“You
going to read me some of that poetry of yours?” He was grinning, so I could
tell he was just teasing, but I still mentally shuddered at the thought.

“Nope,”
I said, trying to sound as breezy as possible. “Maybe someday.”

“I’ll
hold you to that,” Jackson smiled, and this time I thought he might be serious.

The
coffeehouse was on the same side of town, so the drive was short. Parking was
scarce, so Jackson had to park close to some other cars. I could tell it pained
him to do so, but he didn’t complain.

Saturday
was usually their biggest night, but the coffeehouse was still pretty busy. It
looked like a lot of people were ordering to go while others had come to watch
the guy singing as he played guitar up on the small stage.

Jackson
insisted I find us a table while he ordered. I managed to grab a table as a
couple was leaving, and I listened to the music while I waited for Jackson. The
guy wasn’t bad. His sound was a bit of folk and alt-country that made me think
of Wilco or Neutral Milk Hotel.

He
had actually just launched into a cover of Wilco’s “I Am Trying To Break Your
Heart” when Jackson appeared at our table with two large cups of hot chocolate
and a big slice of chocolate chip cheesecake for us to share.

We
listened while we sipped on the cocoa and nibbled at the delicious cheesecake,
but the Wilco cover was the guy’s last song. Another guy went up on stage after
him and mumbled a few words before he launched into a song I wasn’t familiar
with, so I wasn’t sure if it was a cover or an original.

I
glanced at Jackson as I speared another forkful of cheesecake and he was
considering the guy on stage thoughtfully. He caught me looking and said, “This
guy sounds very John Mayer-esque.”

I
listened more carefully and then finally nodded. “That song kind of reminded me
of ‘Why Georgia.’” I met Jackson’s eyes again. “Do you have any of his albums?”

He
shook his head. “Clare’s a big fan, though.”

“With
good reason. He has a great voice and good songs.”

Jackson
grinned. “I think you have to be a girl to really fully appreciate John Mayer.”

I
rolled my eyes. “Right, and I suppose you have to be a guy to understand the
appeal of girls like Britney Spears or Jessica Simpson?”

“Something
like that,” Jackson smirked. “I think my leanings are probably more toward,
say, Mandy Moore.”

“Nice.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’d love to see you rocking out to ‘Candy.’”

“Oh,
I think it’s a little early in our relationship to let you see that.”

I
snorted, and then glanced around to see if anyone else had heard. It was only
then that I really noticed that there were several other couples seated at the
surrounding tables. It was both strange and wonderful to finally be one of
those girls out for the evening with her boyfriend. 

I
was having such a good time too. It wasn’t really much different from hanging
out—except that Tegan wasn’t there as the buffer—but it still felt different;
more intimate, somehow.

Jackson
seemed to be having a good time too, but it probably wasn’t exactly the same
for him because he’d been out on a date before. I felt my curiosity grow as I
wondered just how many girlfriends he’d had before me. I wasn’t jealous or
worried about those other girls. Jackson could have had Skylar, and he wasn’t
interested. He’d chosen me, so I believed that he genuinely liked me. I was
just interested because we’d never really talked about it before. Of course,
I’d never thought to ask either.

When
the guy took a break between songs, I turned back to Jackson and, feeling
brave, asked, “Can I ask you a question?”

“You
just did,” he smirked.

“Smart
aleck.”

“Yes,”
he smiled, “you may ask me
another
question.”

I
prefaced the question by saying, “It’s personal, so if you don’t want to
answer, it’s okay.”

That
earned me a couple of raised eyebrows and his eyes turned curious as well.
“Shoot.”

“Okay,”
I blushed, almost regretting my moment of bravery in the face of embarrassment,
but I pressed on. “Before tonight, when was the last time you went on a date?”

It
was obvious Jackson hadn’t been expecting that question because his brows drew
together and his smile faded slightly as he pursed his lips and considered the
question. “Gosh. I don’t know . . .” He was still thinking. “Last summer, I
guess? Maybe around mid-July?”

“Was
she your girlfriend?”

Jackson
nodded.

“Was
it serious?”

Jackson
had to consider that for a moment. “Yes. No.” He shook his head. “I’m not
really sure.” 

I
wasn’t exactly sure what to make of that answer, but without thinking about it
first, I asked, “Why’d you break up?”

“You’re
really going in for the kill, aren’t you?” he laughed.

“Sorry,”
I bit my lip blushing. “I wasn’t trying to be nosy. I was just curious. Forget
I asked.”

“No,”
he waved me off. “It’s cool.”

So
I waited while he took a moment to gather his thoughts into words. “I met her
while I was staying with Eric over the summer,” he explained. “She was visiting
her sister, who lived in the same apartment complex. We kind of hit off and
started seeing each other, but once it was time to go back home, we just
decided to end things there on a good note.”

I
thought about that for a moment. I wasn’t sure what I’d been expecting, but an
amicable breakup wasn’t it. Most people broke up because they weren’t
interested anymore or the relationship wasn’t working. That didn’t seem to be
the case here. I found myself asking without thinking, “Do you still like her?”

Jackson
stared at me for a moment, looking at me as if I’d grown a second head.
Finally, he said, “Obviously not. I wouldn’t be with you if I liked someone
else. I hadn’t even thought about her until just now.”

“Oh.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. “That’s a relief” hardly seemed right.

“Any
other questions?” he grinned.

I
turned away, blushing. I thought for a moment, figuring it was probably better
to get this Q and A out of my system while Jackson was playing along.
“Actually,” I said, “I have one more.”

“Oh
God,” Jackson breathed, sounding pained.

I
looked up, worried. “What?”

He
winced as he asked, “Are you going to ask me if I’ve had sex?”

I
could feel the blush on my face intensify. In fact, I felt like my whole body
was flushed. “No,” I said, low and emphatically. “To be honest, I hadn’t even
thought to ask.”

This
time Jackson was the one to blush. Wanting to steer away from the awkwardness
as quickly as possible, I said, “I was just going to ask when you realized you
liked me as more than a friend.”

Once
the words were out, though, I realized I really didn’t feel any less awkward
having asked that question.

But
Jackson seemed relieved because he laughed. “That’s easy,” he said. “I realized
I liked you as more than a friend over Thanksgiving break when I found myself
missing you because we hadn’t talked in a while.”

“Really?”
I hadn’t been expecting that. I narrowed my eyes. “It wasn’t when I finally got
breasts?”

“Um,”
Jackson coughed as his cheeks turned red. He looked away as he spoke. “I really
never noticed a lack of them . . .”

I bit
my lip and tried not to laugh. His bashfulness was so endearing that I didn’t
even think to be embarrassed by my words. I couldn’t think of anything to say
to that, but his answer certainly won him some brownie points.

After
a moment, Jackson turned back to me. “When did you start to like me?”

“Probably
when you gave me a ride home from school.” I winced at the admission.

“Really?”
Jackson’s eyes widened. I nodded. “But you hardly even knew me then!”

“I
know,” I nodded. “But as I found out more about you, the more I liked.”

“That’s
good to know,” he grinned. He was quiet for a second as he fiddled with a
napkin. “To answer that other question,” he peeked at me through his lashes. I
nodded, showing I understood what question he was referring to. He breathed out
slowly as he nodded, saying, “I have.”

I’d
never really thought too much about whether or not he’d had sex, but upon
hearing that he had, I wasn’t that surprised. He was older than me, so I’d
expected him to be more experienced. He was also very good looking, whether he
recognized that or not. Even so, I wasn’t sure what to say, but Jackson looked
as if he was waiting for me to say something, have some sort of reaction.
“Congratulations” or “How was it?” hardly seemed appropriate. Instead, I
finally whispered, “I haven’t.”

I
knew that he already knew that, though. I’d already confessed to never dating
or even kissing a guy, so my confession couldn’t have come as a surprise.
Still, Jackson didn’t laugh or point any of that out.

Instead,
he nodded. “That’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

I
couldn’t help but smile because I knew his words were sincere.

With all
of the new, strange and exciting developments in my life—new semester of
school, my first boyfriend, forging new friendships and a garage band in my,
well, garage—I thought I was adjusting rather well. Of course, that was
probably why life, courtesy of my brother, decided to throw me a curve ball.

Oxide
was taking more adjusting to than I’d initially thought; namely because it felt
as if Luke’s band had taken over the house. Mom seemed to enjoy it more than
I’d expected while Dad continued to refer to it as “noise.” Honestly, as much
as they were improving, I was beginning to side with Dad.

Practices
took place at least three nights a week, and, given I’d always considered him
to be somewhat laidback, Luke turned out to be awfully bossy. He went as far as
synchronizing everyone’s work schedule, telling them what nights to request
off, and if they couldn’t get those nights off, he all but demanded they switch
shifts with someone.

The
issue of the lead singer was resolved two days after my first date with Jackson
and a total of eleven days after the band was formed. The band was having a
quick practice because Toby and Nick had to work. They’re schedules had not yet
been synced. Stevie stopped by while Skylar was at work, claiming she needed to
grab something she’d forgotten the day before. After an extremely short trip
upstairs to Skylar’s room—and coming back downstairs empty-handed—she found her
way into the garage.

The
usual taunting began, but Robby spoke up before they could really get into it.
“Why don’t we just let her audition?” he suggested.

The
look on Luke’s face was enough to melt a glacier, but when the other members
murmured in agreement with Robby, Luke sighed, shrugging as if admitting defeat
and waved Stevie further into the garage. “Fine,” he muttered. “Let’s do this.”

The
moment Stevie sang the first line from “Call Me When You’re Sober” by
Evanescence with clear conviction Robby, Toby, Mark and Nick were ready to name
her their lead singer. Luke tried to play it off like she wasn’t that great,
but I saw his jaw drop a little when she started singing.