Infinite (Strange and Beautiful, Book 1) (67 page)

Jackson
volunteered to drive, and he and Mark would meet at my house and we’d all leave
from there. When Dad found out about my plans, he’d gotten grouchy, demanding
to know why he hadn’t been informed of my plans. When I explained that Mom gave
me the okay, his ire only strengthened, but he didn’t try to thwart my plans.

He
wasn’t shy about making it clear that he didn’t like the idea of Jackson
driving. “Young kids,” he grumbled. “Always driving like the devil’s chasing
them. Going to end up killing someone.”

I
didn’t bother to assure him that Jackson was a good driver. It seemed like a
waste of breath. As luck would have it, Jackson did not arrive in his blue
Camaro. Instead, he drove an aqua blue Ford Focus. It wasn’t even until he
stepped out of the car that Tegan and I realized it was Jackson.

“Who’s
car is that?” I asked, pulling the front door open as I toed on my shoes.

“Jordan’s,”
Jackson grinned widely. “He let me borrow it.”

I
wondered what he’d done to get Jordan to agree but decided it was probably
better not to know.

“Jordan’s
the pretty one?” Tegan asked thoughtfully.

I
groaned, face flaming, and hoped Jackson wouldn’t notice. I’d thought it had
been implied that Tegan shouldn’t repeat that description of Jackson’s older
brother in front of
anyone
. Ever.

“Is
that how you describe him?” Jackson laughed.

“Well,
he is!” I muttered, shrugging and looking away. My face felt unnaturally hot.

Jackson
wrapped an arm around my shoulder, pulling me close. The humor was written all
over his face as he raised an eyebrow. “How do you describe me? As the ugly
one?”

“No.”
I stuck my tongue out at him. “You’re the nerdy, bookish artsy one with the
gorgeous lips.”

Jackson’s
eyes widened, clearly surprised. “Gorgeous lips, huh?” he smirked and preened a
bit. “I guess that beats being the pretty one.” Slyly, he moved his arm down
from my shoulder to my waist, encircling me with both arms, and then showered
my face with tons of sloppy kisses as he tickled my sides.

Squealing
with laughter, I shoved at him, trying to break free of his strong grasp.
Tegan, meanwhile, stood back, watching and laughing. I made a note to self to
thank her for her lack of help later.

When
the doorbell rang, Jackson only paused momentarily in his attack. “Carry on,”
Tegan said in a striking impersonation of Tim Gunn from
Project Runway.
“I’ll get the door.”

At
her command, the tickling began again, and I changed the note to self to remind
myself to kick Tegan in the shins when she was least expecting it. When Mark
stepped into the house, he looked around, startled and confused by my laughter,
and asked, “What’s going on?”

Tegan
shrugged, motioning toward Jackson and I. “I think this is what you call a Jack
and Spaz attack.”

“That’s
. . .
not
. . . funny,” I exclaimed through my fit of laughter.

I
kept trying to tug away, but Jackson’s grip was too strong. My chest and sides
ached from so much laughter. Realizing I’d never manage to slip of his grasp, I
changed tactics. Instead of pulling away, I stepped into Jackson and stomped on
his right foot. Immediately, Jackson released me and began hopping around on
one foot, groaning and grimacing. “Serves you right,” I admonished,
breathlessly.

Mark
cleared his throat. “I hate to break up this . . . strange . . . moment, but
shouldn’t we hit the road?”

Still
pouting, Jackson stopped hopping around like a fool and combed his fingers
through his already messy hair. “Yeah,” he nodded, “we should probably get
going.”

Curiosity
won out as Tegan and I pulled on our hoodies. “How did you get Jordan to let
you borrow his car anyway?”

“I
just used my powers of persuasion,” he shrugged. “I’m just awesome like that.”

“Whatever,”
I laughed, grabbing my purse and motioning everyone toward the door. Mark and
Tegan walked ahead of us, and Jackson waited while I locked up the house since
Skylar had already left for work and Dad hadn’t made it home yet.

“I
just explained to Jordan that I didn’t think my car would be comfortable to
ride in for over an hour,” Jackson shrugged as we made our way down the
sidewalk. I suspected he was omitting something, but, again, I told myself
ignorance was probably bliss. “Just make sure you don’t spill anything in
here,” Jackson warned, raising his voice so Mark and Tegan could hear. “Jordan
will throw a very
unpretty
hissy fit and act like I’ve committed all
three Unforgivable Curses.”

“Maybe
Silly shouldn’t drink anything in the car then,” Tegan commented meekly.

I
stuck my tongue out at her. “Very funny.”

Mark
and Tegan took the back seat, and I sat up front with Jackson. Somehow I was
put in charge of the directions. It made me a little nervous, since I was so
directionally challenged, but I figured I couldn’t screw up too much by just
reading the instructions aloud. Jackson assured me, before we took off, that he
had a pretty good idea where he was going, so he probably wouldn’t need my
navigational help.

I
was also in charge of the radio. Jackson had an adaptor, and I’d brought along
my iPod, so I hooked it up while Jackson drove us out of town.

Instead
of blasting the bands we’d be hearing in just a few short hours, I turned on
Rilo Kiley, who was Tegan’s absolute favorite band. Jackson once claimed she
and I seemed to worship them since we always brought them up when we were
talking about music. As it turned out, neither Jackson nor Mark had ever
actually heard anything by Rilo Kiley aside from “The Frug,” which Oxide had
added to their set list. Instead of being insulted, Tegan thrilled at the
chance to talk about the band.

“Jenny
Lewis and Blake Sennett were both child actors,” she explained. “Have you ever
seen the movie
Troop Beverly Hills
?”

The
blank stares on both Mark and Jackson’s faces were answer enough.

“Tee,”
I laughed, turning in my seat to look at her. “I think that movie is too much a
chick flick for either of them to watch.”

“True
enough.” Tegan considered a moment. “Well, Jenny was also in
Pleasantville
.”

Jackson
was familiar with that film. “Oh yeah? Who’d she play?”

“She
was one of the Jennifer’s in the beginning before they get sucked into
Pleasantville.”

That
didn’t seem to help. Jackson and Mark still looked clueless, but Mark said,
“That’s cool. You’ll have to point her out in the movie sometime.”

Kudos
to Mark, I thought. I was pretty sure he’d just earned a few brownie points with
Tegan just by showing interest. I couldn’t tell if Jackson cared about this
stuff or not, but he seemed amused at how quickly Tegan spoke when she was
rattling off Rilo Kiley facts.

“Jenny
also did a solo album with
The Watson Twins,” Tegan went on. “She also
used to date Blake Sennett, who also sings and plays guitar for Rilo Kiley.
He’s also in the band The Elected, who are also very good
.
”

“And
Blake is also an actor,” I added.

“What
was he in?” Jackson asked, looking to me. “Anything I’d know?”

“Have
you ever seen
Salute Your Shorts
on Nickelodeon?”

Jackson’s
brows drew together as he thought. “Sounds kind of familiar,” he nodded, but
Mark looked uncertain.

“He
played Pinsky on that show,” Tegan commented. “But you’d probably remember him
best from
Boy Meets World
. He was Joey the Rat.”

“The
bully?” Mark inquired.

Go
figure, I thought. Of course he’d remember something like that.

“Yeah,”
Tegan nodded enthusiastically.

For
as long as I could remember, I’d always lacked any sense of coordination. With
no grace and little rhythm, dancing usually only occurred in the comfort of my
bedroom. Usually, I was alone. Occasionally, Tegan and Tierney were able to
talk me into dancing a little jig when I stayed overnight. Needless to say,
since I lacked the same poise my best friend had been blessed with naturally,
the idea of dancing in public never occurred to me.

That,
however, flew right out the window along with Tegan’s usual demure behavior. As
soon as the concert began, Tegan grabbed my hands and all but forced me to move
to the heavy beats of Three Days Grace’s music. Thankfully, graceful movement
wasn’t necessary. The music was much too aggressive for that.

Even
Mark and Jackson got into it and were coerced into jumping around with Tegan
and I. The music itself was excellent. It felt like the set list was made just
for me. While I was big fan of all three bands, Tegan was mostly a fan
Nickelback, who was headlining the tour.

When
Nickelback went on stage, Tegan lit up, and all her reservations about Mark
seemed to vanish. As soon as they began to play “Animals,” Tegan started
dancing around Mark, singing the song word for word, and by the time they
transitioned into “Woke Up This Morning,” she had Mark dancing around with her.

The
smile on Mark’s face was so bright; if needed, he could have lit up the entire
venue on joy alone. I had no idea where their relationship might go, but, even
if romance wasn’t in the cards for them, I was certain their friendship was
already stronger. 

Jackson
and I also had a great time. Whenever a slower song played, Jackson would stand
behind me and wrap his arms around me. We’d sway to the music, and sometimes
his lips would find mine. That, more than the dancing, made me uncomfortable. I
found I wasn’t at all an exhibitionist. Public displays of affection felt
awkward even if no one was looking at us.

The
only pitfall of the whole concert experience came afterward. The decent weather
we’d had before we went into the venue was long gone by the time we walked out
later that night. Instead, we stepped out into a brewing storm. The air was
chilled, thunder boomed in the distance and lightning lit the night sky. Then,
as we were walking back to the parking garage, the sky opened up and the rain
poured down.

We
were a good two blocks away, and by the time we made it to the car, we were all
drenched from head to toe. Soaked to the bone, Tegan and I were shivering
messes with uncontrollably chattering teeth. Jackson and Mark put on a good
show of being tough, but I saw the goosebumps on Jackson’s arms as he dug a
couple of blankets out of the trunk.

In
the backseat, with Mark’s arm around Tegan, they huddled together under one
blanket while Jackson bundled me in the other and cranked up the heat. With the
heat on full blast, Jackson drove us toward home, but I was asleep within
minutes of leaving Rosemont.

The
next day while Tegan woke full of energy and on a post-concert high, I awoke
with a tickle in my throat that fast turned into a cough. Soon my nose was
running and my head ached. By noon it was obvious I’d caught a cold, so
Tegan—not wanting to catch it—quickly bid me goodbye, telling me to get plenty
of rest and to feel better soon. Mom, who had been sick with a less severe
cold of her own a few weeks earlier, quickly dosed me with some cold medicine
that left me feeling tired and dopey. I spent the rest of the weekend in bed,
watching movies and eating the food Mom brought me. I only got out of bed to
shower and use the bathroom. 

On
Monday morning, I still felt like death warmed over. Mom said she was feeling a
little under the weather as well and decided to stay home from work with me.
While she slept upstairs in her room, I decided I needed a change of scenery
and decided to camp out on the couch, watching television and sipping on orange
juice.

I
discovered that there was nothing worth watching on television during the early
morning hours. Ridiculous as it was, I found myself watching
Caillou,
Barney,
and
Sesame Street.
The latter two really brought back
memories. The first was something new.
Caillou
was a strange looking
little boy with a sister named Rosie. He was also kind of whiny, but the theme
song was kind of catchy, and I found myself humming it throughout the day.

Mom
came downstairs around noon, just as I was about to fall asleep, to ask me if
I’d taken my medicine. I hadn’t, so I struggled to drag myself away from the
couch and into the kitchen to retrieve my meds. I finished off the last of the
bottle of cough syrup, and Mom discovered we were all out of chicken noodle
soup, which I’d been surviving on for the last few days.

“I
think I’m going to make a quick trip to the grocery store,” she decided. I
noted that she looked better than she had that morning. I hoped, for her sake,
that she’d only caught the twenty-four hour bug. I felt bad enough that she’d
already missed one day of work because of me.

I
napped on the couch until she got back. Once she warmed some soup for lunch, I
sat with her in the kitchen while I ate. Because my throat was sore, it was a
quiet affair. Mom looked less pale, but there were still dark circles under her
eyes, so I wasn’t surprised when she told me, after she finished eating, that
she was going to go lie back down. I did the same, sleeping on the couch the rest
of the afternoon.

I
awoke when Skylar dumped my homework at my feet. My books were heavy, and I was
pretty sure my American Literature book bit me. I used what energy I could
muster to send a death glare Skylar’s way. She didn’t look at all intimidated,
though, so I guessed it was pretty feeble.

Luke
arrived a short time later and decided to take control of the television.
Annoyed, I gathered my books and blankets and heaved them up to my room before
crawling into bed. Once there, though, I couldn’t sleep. I lay there for a
while before I decided to get online and see if either Tegan or Jackson
happened to be on.