Infinite (Strange and Beautiful, Book 1) (74 page)

 “Fine.”
Skylar rolled her eyes. “Don’t do that either. But you should be glad I didn’t
tell you to give him a
blow
job.”

I
grimaced and shook my head. There was only so much I could handle, and I
suddenly realized why Tegan was so uncomfortable when Tierney shared too much.
There were just some things a person should never hear his or her siblings say.

“Jackson’s
not getting any kind of job from me in the immediate future,” I assured her.

Skylar
chuckled lightly, shaking her head. “Anyway, I just wanted to give a truthful
answer to your question,” she sighed. “Now go back to sleep.”

The
next morning, after considering what Skylar had to say, I decided it was time
to talk to Jackson whether he wanted to or not. When I got no answer on his
cell phone, I called his house.

Clare
answered the phone.

“Hey,
it’s Silly,” I greeted.

“Oh,
hi,” she replied. “Did you need Jackson?”

“No,”
I said, quickly changing my plans for the day. “I just couldn’t remember if he
had to work today.”

“Let
me check his schedule,” she said. It was quiet a moment before she said, “Nope.
No work today.”

“Great,”
I breathed. “Is his home now?”

“Yeah,
want me to get him?”

“That’s
okay,” I said before thanking her and hanging up the phone.

With
Jackson’s whereabouts determined, I asked Luke to drop me off at Jackson’s
house on his way to work. He was out in the front yard when we arrived,
pitching a ball to Chloe. He stopped and turned to watch as I climbed out of
the car.

I
waved goodbye to Luke and turned back to Jackson. He seemed too surprised to
see me to even speak. Chloe, on the other hand, was very excited.

“Silly!”
she trilled, running over and wrapping her thin arms around my midsection.

“Hey,
Little Miss,” I grinned, giving her a big squeeze. “How are you?”

“Okay,”
she sing-songed.  “Jacks is trying to teach me to throw less like a girl.”

“Is
that right?” I raised an eyebrow and glanced over at Jackson. He hadn’t said
anything yet, but I knew he was listening. “Do you think I could talk to
Jackson alone for a few minutes?”

“Sure,”
she shrugged. “I don’t like this game anyway. I wanted to play tea party.” She
stuck her tongue out at Jackson as she skipped up the sidewalk to the house.

“Hey!”
A look of shock was clearly written across his face as he called after his
younger sister. When he turned back to me, his expression turned serious again.

Before
he could ask what I was doing at his house unannounced, I said, “I invited
myself over because I wasn’t sure if you’d still be here if I told you I was
coming. We need to talk.”

He
nodded and motioned for me to follow him over to the front steps. He sat down
and I took the seat next to him. I wasn’t exactly sure what I was going to say
to him, but I’d decided before coming over that since he’d been the one to take
the first step every other time something happened with us, it was probably my
turn to make the first move.

“Since
you left on Friday without saying anything, I figured you were probably mad at
me.” I glanced at him, and he nodded. His lips parted as he started to speak,
but I cut him off. “Listen, please.” His eyes met mine, and he closed his
mouth, signaling me to go on. “I’m sorry for being snippy with you and pushing
you away. It probably wasn’t the best way to handle things. I’ve told you
before that this whole relationship thing is new to me. I know that’s no
excuse, but I’m hoping you’ll let me explain myself.”

He
answered softly. “Go on.”

“I
guess I should start by saying that I’m not really that fond of public displays
of affection. I mean, I don’t mind holding hands or the occasional kiss here
and there, but sometimes even that feels weird,” I explained. “It has nothing
to do with not wanting those things. I guess I just don’t like knowing other
people can see something that I consider private.

“Not
to mention my parents were right there, and if they’d looked our way and saw
you. I mean, us . . .” I sighed, shaking my head. “I don’t know what would have
happened, but if my dad saw, I can guarantee it wouldn’t have been good.”

Jackson
smiled just a little and nodded his understanding. Still, he didn’t speak, so I
went on. “I know you’re more experienced than me when it comes to relationships
and stuff like that.” I combed my fingers nervously through my hair. Whatever
calm I’d felt before was slowly fading as we got into my root fear. “I’m still
trying to get used to all of this. I really care about you, Jackson. A lot. But
I just need more time.”

His
dark brows drew together in the first sign of confusion. “Time for what?”

“To adjust to all this.” That
wasn’t exactly what I meant, but I couldn’t just say it outright; the words
wouldn’t come. “This probably isn’t going to be the last time I say or do
something to make you angry. I don’t want you to take my hang-ups personally.
It’s not that I don’t like you or want you . . . to be around, I mean,” I
hurried to clarify as my face heated. I realized I should have practiced what I
was going to say before coming over. This was turning into a pathetic ramble,
but I was determined to get to my point. “Like I said, I care about you, but I
know you’re older and probably ready for more than I am right now–”

“Silly,”
Jackson cut in, apparently unable to remain quiet any longer. “What are you
trying to get at?”

“Sex,”
I blurted.

Jackson’s
green-gold eyes widened, and I covered my mouth with my hands, as if to keep
myself from saying anything else without thinking, as my face continued to burn. 
Finally, I grew brave enough to peek at Jackson. He was watching me, obviously
perplexed. I was certain he was trying to figure out how to reply to my
unintended outburst.

I
took a deep breath, trying to calm myself, before I tried again to explain myself.
“What I mean is I know you’ve had sex, so I’m sure you’ll probably be ready to
. . .” I lowered my voice to a whisper and looked away, “
do it
before I
am.”

“Silly,”
Jackson sighed, grabbing my hands and forcing me to turn toward him. He waited
until I lifted my head and met his eyes before he went on. “Sil, you don’t have
to worry.”

“I
don’t?”

“No.”
When he shook his head, his hair flopped around in the wind. It was getting so
long. I wondered if he’d cut it. That line of thinking was decimated by his
next words. “I don’t want to have sex with you—”

“You
don’t?” Despite my surprise, I sounded offended, but what girl wouldn’t be? 
After all, I was his girlfriend. Shouldn’t he want to have sex with me?

“No,”
he laughed, which only strengthened my offense. “You didn’t let me finish,” he
said, his features growing serious. “I don’t want to have sex with you until
we’re both ready for it. I understand where you’re coming from, but we haven’t
really been together that long. I don’t want to rush into things.”

His
words left me with a feeling of surprise and relief.

“Yeah,
I’ve had sex before,” he continued, “but it’s not like I’m going out of my mind
because we haven’t done it yet.”

As
nice as it was to hear, it also left me feeling a bit confused. “Then why did
you leave like that on Friday?”

Jackson
blew out a deep breath, rolled his eyes and shrugged his broad shoulders.
“Because I was being an idiot?” He shook his head, as if disgusted with
himself. “It took me all of fifteen minutes to realize I shouldn’t have left
like that.”

“So
then why didn’t you call?” Could he hear the hurt in my voice? I hoped not.

“Because
I was waiting for you to come crawling to me,” he winked. “And, look, it
worked.”

I
punched him in the arm. “Seriously!”

He
sighed and rubbed his arm where I’d punched him. “Seriously, that kind of hurt.
You pack a serious punch for such a tiny thing.” I might have preened a bit at
that, but then Jackson grew serious as he went on. “But, honestly, I was trying
to figure out how to apologize for acting like such an ass.”

“I
think we need to work on our communication skills,” I sighed.

He
nodded as he wrapped an arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer. He leaned in
close to whisper, “I’m sorry.”

“So
am I.” It was a relief to find that I’d been worrying needlessly, but I felt a
bit guilty that I’d thought the worst about Jackson. I realized I should have
known better. Jackson was a good guy; he’d never pressure me into anything.

He
leaned in and pressed his lips softly to mine in a quick, chaste kiss. Then he
leaned back, looked around as if to see if there was anyone around to see us,
and then leaned back in for another fuller kiss.

With the
sex talk out of the way and things sorted between Jackson and I, I was sure
everything would be smooth sailing from there on out. Of course, that was
probably an unrealistic belief. However, things were normal until the last half
of April when Skylar, Luke and I found ourselves running around like a group of
chickens with our heads cut off as we tried to get everything in order for
prom. 

In
typical guy fashion, Jackson never mentioned anything about going to prom,
despite the flurry of talk about it all around school during the month prior to
the event. I just figured he wasn’t interested in going, which was fine with
me. I understood it was a rite of passage and all that, and it was a good
excuse to get all prettied up, but, unlike most girls, it had never been
something I’d longed to attend.

Luke
had no qualms about making his distaste for the event common knowledge. If
Skylar hadn’t goaded him, calling him a chicken shit or daring him to say yes,
I doubt Luke would have gone at all. Skylar suggested he and Stevie go
together. Stevie didn’t have a date, and it was her last year of high school,
so, naturally, she really wanted to attend the event as her final hurrah. I
think what tipped the scale and got Luke to agree to go, more than Skylar’s
crude attempts, was Stevie hinting that it was very likely Luke would get laid.

Luke
had grumbled about having to wear a “monkey suit” and called it “a waste of
time and money.”

When
I told Jackson about the whole thing, he’d laughed and said, “I can’t wait to
see how their evening turns out. That’s going to be interesting.”

My
expression of surprise was probably enough to tip Jackson off as I asked,
“We’re going to prom?”

“I
thought we would,” Jackson grinned.

“You
never said.” It felt as if all of the blood had drained from my face. “I’ll
have to get a dress and all of that girly stuff.”

The
amusement faded from Jackson’s face as well. “Did you not want to go?”

“No,”
I said quickly. I wasn’t sure it was completely true since I hadn’t put much
thought into the whole thing. “I do. I just figured we weren’t going since you
never said anything.”

“Sorry.”
Jackson smiled sheepishly. “Is it going to be a problem getting a dress?”

“I
don’t think so.” I hope, I mentally added. Then I remembered something. “My mom
and Skylar are supposed to go shopping this weekend. I can just tag along.”

I
just hoped Mom and Dad wouldn’t be upset that they had another dress to buy for
prom. Mom and Luke had already gone to get him fitted for a suit and set up the
rental payment. Dad had been less than thrilled by the event, already knowing
how expensive it had been the previous year just for Skylar. Now there were
three of us going.

I
asked Mom and Dad about going to prom on Wednesday—the same night Jackson
confirmed he wanted to go—during dinner. Mom was thrilled. Frugal as she often
was, Mom loved to shop.

After
dinner I thought I heard Dad say, “There goes the baby’s college fund.”

I
glanced at Mom, looking to see if she’d heard it as well. Her head was down as
she gathered dishes, but I could see how her light brows drew in and the
creases between them rose in her signature frown.

I
suddenly felt guilty and wondered if I should retract my intention to attend
and simply tell Jackson I couldn’t go, but then Mom looked up. Apparently, she
read the worry on my face and shook her head, smiling softly, “Don’t worry
about money. Your father is just a cheapskate.”

I
laughed, shocked she—of all people—would say such a thing.

In
the end my shopping trip with Mom and Skylar turned into a group event. Skylar
had invited Stevie along to dress shop, and we bumped into Trista, Tegan and
Tierney at the mall. Mom and Trista started talking, and from there on, we
traveled in a huge pack.

When
I told Tegan that Jackson and I were going to prom, she prodded Mark into going
as well. Of course, Tierney was going with Jesse, and Skylar with Scott. 

Everyone
had very different preferences, so finding just the right dress was quite time
consuming. I was the last one to find a dress. I was so discouraged by that
point that I was almost ready to give up. Then Skylar rushed over to me with an
emerald green dress that was structurally similar to what both she and Stevie
had picked out for themselves. It was fitted at the top with a boned bustier
but flared at the hips into a full skirt and a matching sash that tied into a
bow at the back.

It
was gorgeous, of course, but I was certain it wouldn’t fit. When I voiced that
opinion, Skylar threatened, “I’ll stuff a strapless bra and
make
it fit.
This is your dress.”

In
the end, that wasn’t necessary. The dress fit perfectly, and as I stared at my
reflection in the mirrors of the fitting room, I felt like Cinderella.

  For
as exhausting as it’d been to find the right dress, prom felt like a bit of a
letdown. Sure, everyone looked great, and I did have a good time, but I
couldn’t quite understand what all of the fuss was about. I could have just as
easily had as much fun wearing my normal clothes while hanging out at the
bowling alley or at a friend’s party. But, I reasoned, it was just one night
out of the year, so I couldn’t complain.