Infinite (Strange and Beautiful, Book 1)

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Infinite (Strange and Beautiful, Book 1) Page 9

by Brittney Musick


  “Well, you can’t win everyone over.”

  “True, but gravity would be a good thing to have on my side.”

  “I’m sure gravity will come around eventually.”

  I laughed in spite of myself. I was standing in the hallway, talking about gravity as if it were a person, and, for some unknown reason, Jackson was going along with it. My heart fluttered a bit, and I thought I could very possibly end up falling in love with this beautiful boy, but, before I could ponder this idea any further, I remembered that I was supposed to be headed for the parking lot to meet Skylar.

  “I really should go,” I reminded Jackson reluctantly.

  “Parking lot?” I nodded. “I’m headed that way myself,” he said. “I’ll walk with you.”

  Again, I was struck by how at ease he seemed as we fell in step and made our way, following the dwindling crowd out into the unusually sunny October outdoors.

  “So, big plans tonight?” he asked eventually.

  “Not really,” I shrugged. “Just dinner with the family.”

  “Sounds nice.”

  I forced myself not to make a face. “It’s kind of a tradition,” I said instead. “We usually go out some place nice for birthdays instead of having a party.”

  “I think there’s too many of us to do that for everyone’s birthday,” Jackson chuckled. “My mom usually just cooks our favorite meal. Sometimes my dad will take my mom out for her birthday, though. Not that I’m complaining or anything. My mom’s a great cook.”

  “Lucky! My mom’s specialty is Hamburger Helper,” I laughed. “I mean, she tries, but most of the time her dishes don’t turn out quite right. I’ve come to dread it when she attempts to make meatloaf.”

  “Well, it’s not like meatloaf is exactly stellar to begin with,” Jackson said diplomatically.

  “True enough,” I conceded, “but I think meatloaf recipes like my mom about as well as gravity likes me.”

  “How rude.” I glanced up at Jackson to find him grinning down at me with a glint in his hazel eyes.

  I bit my lip to hide my own grin as I replied, “I know, I mean, what did I ever do to gravity? What did my mom ever do to meatloaf?”

  “Maybe you offended them in some way without knowing it.”

  “I suppose so.” Jackson and I shared a conspiratorial smile before we both laughed softly.

  As we reached the end of the sidewalk, I knew our time was coming to an end. I glanced around, spotting Skylar’s car, and yet again felt disappointed that she hadn’t left me.

  Before we began our goodbyes, though, I remembered something. “I almost forgot. I finished Looking For Alaska last night.”

  “Already?” His dark eyebrows shot up.

  I nodded sheepishly. “Once I started reading, I had a hard time putting it down. You were right. It was really good.”

  “I’m glad you liked it.”

  “Thanks for recommending it. I’ll probably at least start, if not finish, An Abundance of Katherines this weekend.”

  “There’s no need to rush,” Jackson assured me. “You’re not being timed, I swear.”

  “I know,” I admitted, my face growing warm. “I tend to obsess a bit about reading.”

  “Nothing wrong with that. Just means I’ll have to think of more books to recommend.”

  “Good,” I smiled, “I look forward to hearing your suggestions.”

  Before Jackson could reply, someone across the parking lot called his name. His head snapped up, and I followed his gaze to some stocky guy by an old, blue station wagon. Jackson waved, and then held up a finger as if to tell him, “Just a minute.”

  He turned back to me and smiled apologetically. “That’s Chris,” he informed me. “I guess I should go see what he wants.”

  I tried not to let my disappointment show. “Okay, I’ll see you around.”

  After wishing me happy birthday one last time, we said goodbye. I hurried over to Skylar’s car. She was already inside, but she was playing with her phone, probably sending a text.

  “What took you so long?” she asked. There was a slight edge of annoyance in her tone, but, mostly, she seemed distracted.

  “I was trying to fit my presents into my bag.” I only felt slightly guilty about lying as I covertly slipped my card from Jackson into the front flap of my messenger bag.

  When I got home, I called Tegan right away to tell her about, first, the card Jackson made me, and, second, about our conversation.

  “I can’t believe I missed that!” I knew on the other end of the phone Tegan was most likely pouting. I’d tried describing Jackson to her before, but I’d mostly emphasized, “He’s hot!” I’d tried looking for him, but it appeared his classes were all located in a different part of the school, and he, obviously, had a different lunch period, so I hadn’t been able to point him out for Tegan to see for herself.

  After telling her about the conversation about gravity and meatloaf, she’d declared, “I don’t care what he looks like. This guy’s a keeper.”

  “In order to keep him, I’d actually have to have him first,” I reminded.

  “Sounds to me like you have a good shot at catching him.”

  As my best friend, Tegan was obligated to root for me even if the exceptionally hot boy was way out of my league. While I appreciated the sentiment, I wasn’t convinced. It just seemed too unbelievable that someone like him—good looking, friendly and kind—would be interested in someone like me—average, awkward and bookish. In all honesty, catching Jackson’s interest at all was more than enough. Despite my growing crush, I would be more than satisfied just to call him my friend.

  When Skylar came into my room—without knocking, mind you—demanding to use the phone (she, Luke and I shared a line), my conversation with Tegan was cut short. As soon as I hung up, Skylar stalked from the room, already dialing a number into the handset that belonged in her room.

  I pouted at my handset, wondering why my sister couldn’t just use her cell phone. After only a moment, I guessed she was probably running low on minutes. I fiddled around online for a while, wishing I’d thought to tell Tegan to get online so we could carry on our conversation about Jackson. Of course, Skylar had been glaring daggers at me and was ready to rip the phone from my hand. I’d barely had enough time to say, “Tegan, I’ve got to go. Skylar needs the phone. I’ll talk to you later.”

  Even though we convened at Red Lobster, dinner was the usual affair of convert texts or games being played beneath the table by Skylar and Luke. Dad complained about the things he’d heard on NPR, which he made Mom and me listen to on the way to the restaurant. Luke and Skylar drove separately. Yes, I was quite jealous.

  Mom quizzed everyone on their orders—sirloin and lobster for Dad, popcorn shrimp for Mom, clam chowder and a garden salad for Skylar, fish and chips for Luke, and the create your own feast for me (three options: garlic shrimp scampi, steamed snow crab legs and jumbo coconut shrimp)—before Dad’s litany of complaints began.

  As usual, we all tuned Dad out while we ate our food. Then, finally, when there was a break in Dad’s complaints in favor of a bite of his food, Mom asked about my day. I kind of felt put on the spot, but I was thankful for the reprieve from Dad monopolizing the, albeit one-sided, conversation.

  I ran through a quick list of my gifts from the Tylers, but I left out the card from Jackson.

  “Oh, it was so nice of Tanner and Tatum to make you a cake,” Mom commented. Then she frowned, looking embarrassed. “I didn’t have a chance to make you a cake. I’m so sorry, Silly.”

  I tried to shrug off the disappointment, but Mom went on. “We’ll just have to order dessert here.”

  Dad’s eyes widened at this announcement. He was, no doubt, thinking of the cost. Mom ignored his sour expression, and even Skylar—apparently not on a diet this week—seemed excited by the prospect of ordering a rich dessert.

  Dad’s mood seemed to lighten slightly after he ordered a third Bahama Mama. He didn’t even object when, in
stead of getting refills of our Coke Products, Skylar ordered an orange freeze to go with her key lime pie while Luke asked for a Sunset Passion Colada and the New York style cheesecake with strawberries. Feeling brave, I ordered a strawberry banana smoothie and the chocolate cake.

  After ordering dessert, any disappointment I felt about Mom not buying or making me a cake disappeared, but that didn’t make me any less curious as to why she hadn’t had time to get one. It also made me wonder if she’d had time to get me a gift. That did put a bit of a damper on my mood, but my spirits were lifted when our waitress placed a rich, chocolaty cake concoction that came with a side of ice cream in front of me.

  The next time I saw our waitress she, along with the rest of the wait staff, was clapping and singing birthday wishes as they made their way to our table. I forced a smile but was relieved when the mortification of everyone staring at me was over.

  Dad slurped down every last drop of his drink. Luke, Skylar and I followed suit, knowing complaints would likely be made if we didn’t. Dad’s eyes widened and the corners of his mouth turned down as he pulled out his credit card once he was given the bill. After the waitress carried it away, Skylar and Luke took that as their cue to leave, saying hasty goodbyes and wishing me a half-hearted happy birthday each.

  Once the waitress returned Dad’s credit card, we made our way out to the car, where Mom insisted on driving since Dad had been drinking. Naturally, he complained the whole ride home about Mom’s driving, which Mom ignored. I wasn’t sure how since it was incredibly annoying. I loved Dad, but he could be such a know-it-all.

  Then, apparently, the alcohol really loosened his tongue because he said, “I cannot believe how much we just spent on a damn dinner. We could have made all of that for half the price at home.”

  “Theo,” Mom said, her voice surprisingly strong and stern, “it’s Cecilia’s birthday.”

  “And she better appreciate it,” he muttered, either forgetting I was in the backseat or thinking I couldn’t hear. “My family wouldn’t spend a hundred dollars just for dinner on my birthday.”

  Mom caught my eye through the rearview mirror, and all I wanted to do was sink into the leather interior. She sent me a sympathetic smile, which I tried to return, but I couldn’t manage to do more than make the corners of my mouth twitch upward.

  “It’s once a year, Theo,” Mom reminded. “Besides, how much do you pay to be a member of that country club?”

  That threw him for a minute, but then he finally replied, “That’s not the point.”

  I glanced back to Dad. Gone was his usual good posture. Instead, he was slouched down in the seat. It was such an odd sensation to see my father completely sloshed. I’d always thought a few drinks might loosen him up, but, after his comments tonight, it seemed it only made him more uptight. Usually, he wouldn’t complain too much about money in front of Skylar, Luke and I. It seemed now he just didn’t care.

  “I don’t care what your point is,” Mom said calmly. “What matters is that it’s Cecilia’s birthday, and we had a nice family dinner to celebrate that.”

  This time when I found Mom’s eyes in the rearview mirror I was able to smile back when she winked at me. Even if she couldn’t make a decent meatloaf, I really loved Mom.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Because Halloween was one of my favorite holidays, I’d had this year’s costume picked out for weeks in advance. I’d always found the idea of being able to dress up and pretend to be someone else for one day out of the year to be very exciting. Even though my peers sometimes perceived me as odd for reasons I’ve yet to understand, aside from talking to myself and asking random questions in grade school, I didn’t want to pretend to be someone else because I disliked who I was. I just liked dressing up and getting candy.

  This year’s costume of choice didn’t take much consideration. I was going as Hermione Granger.

  “It’s not much of a stretch since you already share the same last name,” Tegan teased. “And you’re both bookworms.”

  “But I’m not a know-it-all,” I assured her. My brain capacity seemed much smaller than that of Hermione Granger; though, I did have a knack for remembering useless facts, such as: it was against the law to plow a cotton field with an elephant in North Carolina and Donald Duck comics were banned from Finland because he didn’t wear pants. If I could have channeled this toward remembering facts related to school assignments or tests, I would have been golden. Things never quite worked like that, though.

  In the past, Tegan and I had both dressed up for Halloween and wore our costumes to school, but Tegan seemed reluctant—probably because it was somewhat childish—and I didn’t want to make myself more of a target for Mark Moses than usual, so I decided against wearing my school uniform and black robes to school. I did, however, go to school with bed head, which suited Hermione’s hairstyle, in hopes that I might be able to tease it into a frizzy Hermione-like mess later that evening.

  Tegan kept playing with it, trying to make it frizz without much luck. “Well, at least it looks like you have a little volume,” she shrugged.

  Overall, the school day wasn’t very exciting. There were a few students that dressed up for Halloween, and Mrs. Willis gave the class candy and allowed us to watch a movie—Scooby Doo—in Spanish instead of making us do any real work, which was nice for a change. Trying to keep Spanish verb tenses straight was making my head spin.

  The only eventful moment of the school day occurred when Tierney sat down at our table during lunch. Tegan and I were still trying to decide what we were going to do that evening. We both agreed we were probably too old for trick-or-treating, but staying in and watching movies wasn’t that appealing for Halloween either.

  “I just got invited to Jesse Millet’s Halloween party,” Tierney announced. She tried to look unconcerned by her news, but she couldn’t quite keep the smile off her face. Besides, both Tegan and I knew she was more excited than she wanted to let on.

  Tierney had been crushing on Jesse since their freshman year. She claimed he didn’t even know she existed, but I found that hard to believe when it came to someone as pretty as Tierney. However she wanted to play it, it was obvious—at least to Tegan and I—that she was thrilled by the invite.

  “I think he invited most of our class to come,” Tierney said casually, “but he said I could bring friends, and the last I knew neither of you had plans, so want to go?”

  Naturally, Tegan and I looked at each other, wide-eyed and excited, before turning back to Tierney and nodding furiously. Neither of us had been to a high school party before, so our previously lame plans for the evening had just got a whole lot more exciting. I just had to figure out how I was going to convince my parents to let me go.

  Tegan and I talked strategy throughout the rest of the day. We finally decided that if my parents flat out refused to let me go to the party, then I would concede, gracelessly, and I would pretend to go trick-or-treating with Tegan. Of course, we would really go to the party, but my parents didn’t need to know that. It was devious, I knew, but I really wanted to go. As it turned out, convincing my parents was much easier than I thought it would be.

  Mom was in the living room when I got home, which was unusual because she was normally already in the kitchen getting things ready for dinner, doing laundry or cleaning. Today, she looked completely unconcerned with any of those tasks. She and Dad had been bickering—I wasn’t sure about what—back and forth a lot since my birthday. I thought maybe she’d gone on her own personal strike of sorts.

  I said a quick hello before going up to my room. I considered just asking Mom if I could go to the party, but I didn’t want it to end up being a point of contention between my parents if Mom said I could go and Dad found out and didn’t approve.

  I decided it was best to bide my time and wait for the right opportunity. Then I heard Luke talking on the phone as I made my way to my room. I swore he talked on the phone more than any girl I knew. Who he was talking to all the time was the b
igger mystery. He couldn’t keep a girlfriend to save his life.

  Stevie had, on more than one occasion, snidely commented, “Probably because his performance is severely lacking.”

  It was troubling to even consider the idea, but it did make me curious as to how Stevie, of all people, would know. I suspected she and Luke had hooked up in the past, but I wasn’t about to ask. Though, I was curious about how Skylar would feel about her best friend and brother fooling around. On the one hand, I thought she’d probably flip her shit. On the other hand, she might be completely cool with it. It was never easy to guess with Skylar.

  Tegan used to have this theory that Stevie was secretly in love with Skylar because of the way she seemed to follow Skylar everywhere. It wasn’t like Stevie was completely mindless or anything, but when it came to Skylar it was like Stevie automatically agreed with whatever she said or did. The Stevie and Luke idea threw a wrench in Tegan’s theory, but I supposed it was possible that Stevie was bisexual. She did talk about girls being “hot” a lot.

  Even so, I was pretty sure Skylar’s preferences were strictly dick. Although, it wasn’t like she’d advertise it if she weren’t straight. Our parents were fairly conservative, and Dad just seemed plain old close-minded.

  So, anyway, while I wasn’t sure whom Luke was talking to, I did hear him mention Jesse Millet’s party. Naturally, my ears perked up. I usually wasn’t prone to eavesdropping, and, because Luke wasn’t exactly being quiet, I, technically, wasn’t eavesdropping. I just happened to be passing by his bedroom and failed to keep walking. That’s all.

  He wasn’t on the phone for long, and, because his door was open, when he turned to set his handset down, he saw me standing in the hallway outside his bedroom.

  “What are you doing?”

  He didn’t seem annoyed by my presence for a change, so I shrugged as I took the last couple of steps toward his door and stood at the archway.

  “I didn’t invite you to come in here,” he warned.

 

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