Infinite (Strange and Beautiful, Book 1)

by Brittney Musick

  I leaned forward to look around Bryley and shot Skylar a glare as several eyes seemed to fall on me. It suddenly felt like I was back in my Grandma and Grandpa Granger’s house because my face was on fire. “We’re not officially—” I began, but Skylar waved her hand dismissively.

  “Don’t try to downplay it,” she insisted. From the grin on her face, I could tell she was enjoying my embarrassment far too much.

  “Humph,” Dad scoffed. “We’re going to have a talk about this later.”

  “What?” I cried. “Why?” I looked around, hoping to spot Mom, but she was nowhere to be seen. “He’s not officially my boyfriend,” I tried, looking back at Dad, but he was unmoved.

  “Later.” The stern tone of his voice made it clear that it wouldn’t be a fun conversation by any stretch of the imagination.

  “Thanks a lot,” I muttered, making another face at Skylar, before I sat back in a huff.

  I couldn’t believe Skylar had blurted that out. I wasn’t even sure if Jackson was actually my boyfriend. We hadn’t discussed it, and I didn’t want to just assume that a few kisses made us official. And I mostly certainly hadn’t wanted Dad to find out in front of the whole family.

  Rules about dating had never really been explained in our house, but both Skylar and Luke were dating at my age, so unless they’d been subjected to a talk I didn’t know about, I couldn’t see why there would be a problem if I started seeing someone. I figured if it were a problem Mom would have said something, but she’d only encouraged me to tell Jackson how I felt.

  Instead of fretting about it all afternoon, I decided I’d just have to wait and see what Dad said. I’d just have to be mature about it, so he wouldn’t have any reason to think I wasn’t old enough to start dating or have a boyfriend.

  After an enjoyable, yet exhausting, day at the grandparents Sawyer’s house, we headed for home. We didn’t stay as late as we usually did because Dad had to work the next day. He’d taken the day off to go today, which was somewhat shocking because Dad rarely ever missed a day of work.

  When we got home, I was ready to head up to my room, plug in my new iPod and call Tegan, who I still hadn’t had a chance to talk to, but Dad stopped me, telling me to come into the living room. It didn’t take a genius to figure out the “discussion” I’d tried to forget about all afternoon was about to take place.

  Mom followed Dad and I into the living room, and she smiled encouragingly as she sat with Dad on the loveseat, and I fell back onto the couch. I hoped the smile meant she was on my side.

  “Tell me about this boyfriend,” Dad said without preamble. He was always much more straight to the point than I could ever be.

  I wanted to explain that Jackson really wasn’t officially my boyfriend—yet anyway—but I doubted Dad would care about technicalities. If I was kissing the boy, that was probably close enough to official for Dad.

  “His name is Jackson Hart. He turned seventeen a few days before my birthday. He’s a junior at Jefferson,” I explained. “He knows both Skylar and Luke.”

  I purposefully didn’t say he was friends with Skylar for fear that would only make Dad dislike him since, Stevie aside, he rarely approved of her friends. I wasn’t sure what else to say. I didn’t think Dad would care about his movie, book or musical preferences, but I felt like I should say more.

  Finally, I added, “He works at the theater in the mall, and he drives a blue Camaro.”

  Dad narrowed his eyes, and I was sure he was about to drill me with more in depth questions, but to my dismay, he asked, “A Camaro you say? What year?”

  “Um,” I glanced at Mom, wondering if she had a clue why Dad would choose to latch onto that detail, but she was looking at Dad as well with her forehead wrinkled and eyes narrowed in bewilderment. “It’s a nineteen sixty-nine, I think. Maybe sixty-eight.”

  Dad’s bushy eyebrows lifted, and the corner of his mouth lifted in a half smile. “Yeah?”

  I nodded. I wasn’t exactly sure, but I thought maybe Dad was experiencing car envy. I decided to go with it. “He and his brothers restored it. His oldest brother, Eric, lives in Chicago and runs a garage. He drives a yellow Nova that Jackson finished helping him restore over the summer.”

  After a few more questions about cars—where I fumbled through answers, trying to recall any specifics Jackson had mentioned, Mom finally interrupted.

  “We just wanted to know a bit more about Jackson,” she said. “We’d like to meet him soon.”

  That should have been a relief, but I was suddenly worried Dad would want to monopolize Jackson’s attention with car talk. I supposed that would probably be better than the death glare most of Skylar’s boyfriends received. I made a mental note that I could add cars to the list of things that interested Dad. I’d never have guessed.

  When I was finally dismissed, I hurried upstairs for fear Dad might start asking more car related questions. The whole thing made me uneasy. Everyone just assumed Skylar knew what she was talking about when she called Jackson my boyfriend, but I still wasn’t sure. We hadn’t really talked about it, and I’d always thought there had to be some kind of a spoken agreement to make it official.

  Since Skylar thought she was such an expert on relationships, I made a detour to her room. The door was partly open, so I nudged it with a single finger, causing it to creak the rest of the way open.

  Skylar looked up from where she was seated on the bed with the sketchpad and pencils I gave her. Her fine features pinched in vague annoyance as I stepped into the room without knocking first or asking for permission, but she did it to me all the time.

  “Yes?”

  “Don’t laugh,” I said sternly. The corner of her mouth lifted, reminding me of Dad, and I figured she would probably laugh just to spite me, but I pressed on. “You told everyone Jackson is my boyfriend, but he and I never actually talked about it, so how do I know if you’re right?”

  Skylar sighed, tossing the sketchpad aside before motioning me to sit on the bed. “What did you do over at his house all day yesterday?”

  “Mostly hung out with his family,” I shrugged.

  “Mostly?” I blushed, and Skylar smirked. “You made out with him, didn’t you?”

  “It was just a kiss.” An amazing kiss, I thought, but I didn’t want to share the details with Skylar.

  “Still,” she grinned, “it was a kiss. What did he give you for Christmas?”

  I tried to be vague as I explained the gifts, but as soon as Skylar heard the words “mix CD,” she demanded I go and fetch it. I didn’t want to show her since it felt so personal, but since I wanted to understand her assumption about my relationship with Jackson, I went and got it.

  She looked it over for several minutes. “Wow, he’s an even better artist than I thought,” she murmured.

  I was surprised and somewhat disappointed. “You’ve seen his drawings before?”

  “Yeah, we’re in the same art class,” Skylar answered, flipping through the pages of the handmade booklet. Once she got to the last page, she looked up and grinned proudly. “Did you read these lyrics?” I nodded. “Then how can you even doubt he’s into you? He’s your boyfriend. Stop worrying.”

  I would have thanked her to be polite, but she was already smug enough, so I collected my mix CD and went back to my room, only slightly relieved. I still wasn’t sure, and Skylar had led me astray before, so I wasn’t sure if I could trust her analysis.

  When I talked to Tegan the next day and filled her in on everything she missed, she agreed with Skylar.

  “If you’re so concerned about it, then just ask Jackson. Then there will be no more room for doubt,” Tegan suggested, blowing out an exasperated breath when I expressed my continued misgivings.

  The idea of asking Jackson point blank, “Am I your girlfriend?” was not at all desirable. I couldn’t stand it if both my sister and best friend were wrong. Instead, I tried to assure myself that, whether we were just dating or in an exclusive relationship, that it wasn’t a bi
g deal and I didn’t need to worry about it. Either way, it was new to me.

  Since Mom was on vacation too, I asked her to take me to a salon to get my hair cut on Thursday afternoon. Since I officially had breasts and actually looked like a girl, I thought it was time to follow through on my vow to cut my hair.

  I asked Tegan to come along for moral support. As much as I looked forward to the possibility of having more voluminous hair, it was somewhat scary. The stylist suggested cutting it to just below my shoulders with shorter layers throughout. She explained that meant there would still be some length, but it would take some of the weight out of my hair.

  Considering I hadn’t got a trim since before school started and my hair fell just a few inches from my waist, and I’d wore my hair long for so many years, anything above the middle of my back sounded incredibly short. Mom and Tegan were encouraging as the stylist tried to coax me out of my comfort zone.

  When the stylist walked away for a moment, Tegan leaned in and whispered, “It’ll grow back if you don’t like it, but I really do think it’ll look it great.”

  I winced through the first several snips of the scissors, but the stylist had been smart enough to turn me away from the mirror so I couldn’t see what was happening. I did see some strands lying on the floor out of the corner of my eye and they looked pretty darn long. Once the stylist was done and turned me around to face the mirror, though, I couldn’t have been happier.

  Without all of the extra weight, my hair had a slight wave and a new healthy shine that it had lacked before. But the biggest difference had to be how much older the new hairstyle made me look. The style was flattering to the shape of my face, and the new shine made my skin look healthier and less washed out as well; although, that could have just been a result of sleeping better and general happiness. Either way, I was very happy with my new look.

  In the days after, I spent an unnatural amount of time in front of the mirror playing with it.

  “I never knew you were so vain,” Tegan teased.

  “I’m not,” I argued. “I’m just excited and trying to get used to it.”

  But I did make a conscience effort not to spend so much time in front of the mirror after that.

  I was curious about what Jackson would think of my new look, but I didn’t get to show him right away. We talked on the phone and online, but between spending time with his older brothers while they were home for the holidays and his work schedule, we hadn’t seen each other in person since Christmas.

  A few times I’d considered asking him about the status of our relationship. I’d even checked on MySpace to see if he’d switched his status from Single to In a Relationship, but as far as I could tell he hadn’t been on MySpace at all in several days. I thought about switching mine to see if that would prompt him to say something, but that just seemed so childish. I decided to just wait it out until we saw each other again instead.

  On the eve of New Year’s Eve, Mom informed me that the country club was having a party, which we would all be going to. They had one every year. It usually started with a dinner followed by games and socializing as everyone waited to ring in the New Year.

  In theory, it should have been fun, but everyone was so stuffy and stuck up. Most of the other teenagers there went to private schools and when I was forced to go along with my parents, I was left to entertain myself. I started to protest going, but when Mom offered to pay for Tegan’s dinner so she could come too, I relented. Besides, I didn’t have any better plans.

  Luke and Skylar, on the other hand, could not be swayed. They outright refused to go, claiming they had other plans. Mom was somewhat upset, but she didn’t press, realizing they’d both be surly and unbearable if she forced them to go against their will.

  “We have two extra tickets. What am I supposed to do with them?” she fretted.

  “I might be able to find a couple of people to go,” I offered.

  Mom perked right up at that. “Might one of these people be the infamous Jackson Hart?”

  It was obvious she was just itching to meet him. I considered pointing out she’d probably already met him when he was over that day with Scott, but she probably wouldn’t remember. Besides, he was just Skylar’s friend then and far less intriguing, but now that he was my quasi-boyfriend, Mom’s interest was piqued.

  “Maybe,” I finally answered, “but don’t get too excited about meeting him. He may not be able to come.”

  Mom looked a little disappointed by the prospect, and I wondered if Dad’s questions about Jackson’s car knowledge might be preferable as I made my way up to my room to make a couple of phone calls.

  Jackson readily agreed, claiming he needed a break from his brothers. “One on one they’re fine, but when they start tag teaming me, I feel like I’m five all over again.”

  “What do they do?” Jordan had made some inappropriate jokes when I was there, and Eric seemed to have a bit of that same humor, but they hadn’t seemed so bad. When I said as much to Jackson, he laughed heartily.

  “That was them on their best behavior, Silly,” he explained. “What you saw was just the tip of the iceberg.”

  “In that case, I can see why you’d want to escape.”

  We agreed he’d come over to the house around half past seven the following evening before we got off the phone. I was quite anxious to see Jackson again because it felt like it had been much longer than just a few days since I’d last seen him.

  I called Mark next. I hadn’t seen him since school let out. I knew he’d probably think an evening at that country club was lame, but I still thought it was worth a shot to invite him along. Before school let out, I got the impression from Mark that the holidays weren’t that enjoyable for him. After seeing Mark’s dad that day at the school, I had a pretty good idea he was the cause.

  Mark had never really given any specifics about his living situation, but any time either Tegan or I mentioned something about going over to each other’s house, he seemed to get evasive, like he was afraid we might invite ourselves to his house unannounced.

  Mark didn’t have a cell phone, and he’d never given me his home phone number, so I had to look it up in the phone book. There was only one Moses listed in the area under the name Richard. I figured it would be quite apt if everyone called him Dick.

  Mark seemed surprised to hear from me, and he seemed reluctant about going at first.

  He tried to beg off saying, “I’m really not into that fancy bullshit.”

  “Good thing this is a more of a casual gathering,” I assured him. “Besides, it’s a free meal and a night with good company.”

  “Fine,” he muttered.

  I’d learned not to take his surliness to heart, so I cheerfully informed him that Jackson was coming over around seven-thirty and he should do the same.

  True to their word, Jackson and Mark arrived the following evening one right after the other. Tierney had dropped Tegan off earlier in the day on her way over to Jesse’s. His parents were apparently letting him throw a big New Year’s bash while they were out at another party. I wondered if Jesse’s party was part of the plans Luke and Skylar were referring to when they refused to go to the country club.

  Even though I hadn’t been lying when I told both Mark and Jackson that it was a casual evening, I spent the better part of the evening getting ready. I was a wreck over what to wear.

  “Unless you want to get up two hours early every day to get ready, you really need to get over this,” Tegan sighed. “Jackson’s nice, but he’s still a teenage guy. Unless you’re naked, he probably doesn’t care what you’re wearing.”

  Instead of setting me at ease, Tegan’s words only made me worry that I needed more pretty underwear.

  “Silly,” Tegan snapped. I stopped pawing through my dresser drawer to look at her. Her eyes were narrowed and her jaw clenched. “If you don’t snap out of it, I’m going to smack you. Hard.”

  Since Tegan wasn’t violent by nature, I took her threat to heart. I stoppe
d freaking out about every little detail, and what sanity I’d ever had seemed to return.

  In the end, I wound up wearing a pair of dark washed jeans with a light green knit tee with a forest green cardigan over it. I wore the flower broach and earrings I’d also gotten from Mom and Dad. They were stocking stuffers that came along with some new makeup and candy.

  Once I’d styled my hair and applied some makeup, Tegan smiled, but rolled her eyes at me. “You look great,” she assured me. “Of course, after all the time you wasted freaking out, you should.”

  “Thanks,” I muttered.

  Tegan wore the same jeans and sage colored cable knit sweater she’d arrived in. She didn’t even bother with her hair and makeup either, and it made me realize just how freakish I’d been all afternoon over clothing. As much as I wanted to look nice for Jackson, I realized I’d never put that much effort into my clothes, hair or makeup before and he’d still liked me, so it seemed ridiculous to obsess over it now just because he was (possibly) my boyfriend.

  Jackson arrived first, and his attire was somewhat surprising. I was so used to his t-shirts with funny sayings, so the olive green polo he donned, while nice and complimentary to his eyes, sort of threw me off at first. He wore jeans, though, and they helped dress down the shirt a bit.

  I greeted him with a nervous smile. “Hi.”

  “Hey,” he answered, smiling at me and combing his fingers through his hair. It stuck up in a few places, but it was kind of adorable. He glanced over at Tegan to greet her as well.

  “Hey,” she answered with a little wave.

  That was as far as our conversation got before the doorbell rang again. I pulled the door open to find Mark. He looked uncomfortable standing there in his signature black t-shirt and jacket. When I saw that he was wearing blue denim instead of black, I realized he, like Jackson, had tried to dress a little more respectable.

  “Hey, Mark.” With a smile, I gestured for him to come in. I made some quick introductions. “Mark, you probably already know Jackson,” I said. “You’re in the same class.”