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.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
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 reaso
ned, it was just one night out of the year, so I couldn’t complain.
Once prom was out of the way, I was sure everything would finally settle back down into normality. Naturally, that was when the unthinkable happened.
I wasn’t sure if I’d just missed the clues in all of the prior chaos or if it really had come on so suddenly, but I first noticed it on the Wednesday after prom; “it” being Tegan’s strange behavior.
By our lockers before our first classes of the day, she asked, “Hey, do you want to go to the movies Friday?”
“Sure,” I agreed easily. “Did you have anything in mind?”
A smile bloomed across her face as she said, “I thought Disturbia looked pretty good. That’s the one with Shia LaBeouf. You know, from Even Stevens?”
“Oh! Right,” I nodded. “It’s the modern remake of Rear Window. That one does look good.”
“Awesome, I’ll look up the showing times later,” Tegan offered.
“Or I could just ask Jackson,” I pointed out. As soon as I mentioned his name, though, I muttered, “Crap.”
Tegan frowned. “What?”
“I just remembered that Jackson asked me on Monday if I wanted to do something Friday since he has the night off.” I felt so shitty for forgetting. Apparently I needed to get a date book so I couldn’t double schedule. Who’d have thought I’d ever have that kind of problem? Certainly not me.
“Oh,” was all Tegan said.
“Well,” I sighed, “maybe we could all go to the movie together? Jackson could get us a discount.”
“No,” Tegan waved me off. “That’s okay. We’ll do something some other time.”
“We could go to the movies on Saturday,” I suggested.
“No,” Tegan shook her head and stepped back. “I can’t. We’ll figure something out for some other time.” She took a few more steps backward as she said, “I’m going to head to class. I’ll see you later.”
I felt terrible for letting her down, and I wasn’t sure what I could do to fix it. It was so hard to find time to be with Jackson outside of school, though, because of his work schedule, so I’d feel equally awful canceling on him to go out with Tegan.
Tegan seemed quiet most of the day. When I tried to apologize for the scheduling conflict at the end of the day, she smiled. “It’s fine, Sil. I get it.”
That didn’t absolve me of my guilt, but she seemed okay on Thursday, which made the knot in my chest loosen just a bit.
On Friday morning, Skylar left for school early without an explanation while Luke was running behind because he couldn’t find his cell phone. We just barely made it to school in time for me to run to my locker—tripping twice along the way—and get my books before hurrying to class, so I didn’t get to talk to Tegan, Jackson or Mark before school.
When Mark met me at my locker between first and second block, I was immediately concerned. He usually didn’t meet me between classes unless it was one I shared with Tegan. His face was drawn into a confused frown.
“What’s up?” I asked as I put away my books from History.
“I’m not sure,” he replied as I took out my Biology book. “Is something going on with Tegan?”
I stopped trying to locate my Biology folder and looked up at Mark, shaking my head. “I don’t think so.” His frown seemed to deepen. “I didn’t see her this morning, though. Luke was running late, and Skylar left early,” I quickly explained. “What makes you think something’s wrong?”
Mark rubbed absently at his chin, as if trying to collect his thoughts. Finally, he sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t know. She just seems like something’s bugging her.” He paused before adding what I was certain was his biggest worry. “You don’t think it’s me, do you?”
While Mark and Tegan had been dating since March, they didn’t become “official” until prom. Several people asked Mark throughout the evening if Tegan was his girlfriend. Some were bold while others asked in hushed tones, but, finally, Mark turned to Tegan, smiling happily, and said, “I’d be more than happy to claim her. That is, if she’ll have me.”
Tegan had beamed, extremely pleased, with a smile that rivaled Alice’s Cheshire cat. “Of course,” she nodded.
It was incredibly cute, and Tegan had gushed over it the rest of the weekend. She’d talked to me several times since she and Mark started dating about how she wished she knew how to define her relationship with him. It was obvious after only a few dates that she and Mark really liked each other, so I was so happy for them.
With that knowledge in mind, I rolled my eyes as the sheer ridiculousness of Mark’s question. “No,” I answered with an honest smile, “I don’t think it’s you.”
I could understand Mark’s worry, though, because Tegan rarely ever got visibly upset. Because she was generally such a happy person, she usually was very self-contained whenever she was upset. For him to sense something was wrong with her, either Mark was very perceptive or something pretty heavy was going on.
“I’ll talk to her at lunch. See if I can sort out what’s going on with her,” I offered.
“Thanks,” Mark sighed. I smiled, patting him on the arm, before we both hurried off to our next classes.
When I arrived in the cafeteria, unfortunately, the table was already full, which didn’t lend to speaking to Tegan in semi-privacy. I could tell almost immediately, however, that something was a bit off with her. She didn’t join in the conversation with everyone else; instead, she had her nose stuck in a book—a transgression I was often scolded for during lunch.
Tegan also only glanced at me once when I sat down beside her at the table. Mark caught my gaze and raised an eyebrow as if to say, “See what I mean?” I grimaced, nodding my head to let him know I did.
Lunch dragged as my worry increased. When the bell finally rang, Tegan gathered her things and started to walk off.
I threw my trash away and hurried after her. “Tee—”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Silly,” she said before I could even ask.
From the sharp tone of her voice, it was just as obvious Mark’s assumption was correct as it was apparent I wouldn’t be getting any immediate answers. She stomped off, blending in with the crowd leaving the cafeteria, and I stopped in my tracks, stunned by the chilling tone of her words. I couldn’t remember her ever talking to anyone—let alone me—that way.
I jumped when Jackson wrapped his arm around me. I smiled, feebly, up at him and sighed as Mark appeared on my other side.
“Well?” he prompted.
“Something’s definitely wrong, but I don’t think you have anything to worry about, Mark.” I bit my lip to keep the tears at bay. “I have a feeling I may be the problem.”
“What makes you say that?” Jackson sounded appalled at the notion.
“She wouldn’t even talk to me.” My words were no more than a whisper. I bit my lip once again, blinking back the moisture in my eyes, as I tried to figure out what happened overnight to cause Tegan’s mood to change to drastically. Tegan wasn’t a moody person, and for her to be so upset—and not to tell me—could only mean I was part of the problem.
“Maybe it’s just that time of the month,” Mark suggested, hopefully.
“Could be,” Jackson agreed.
“Ugh.” I rolled my eyes in disgust. “Why do you guys always assume that has to be the problem?” I shook my head in irritation and stepped out of Jackson’s embrace. “Never mind,” I said quickly when Mark and Jackson opened their mouths to speak. “I don’t even want to know.”
Disgusted and confused, I turned and headed for my locker. I sincerely hoped Mark hadn’t asked Tegan if she was suffering from PMS. I had a feeling that would only exacerbate the situation.
By the time I made it to the locker room to change for P.E., Tegan was already dressed and waiting in the gym for class to begin. When I did make it to the gym, Tegan busied herself with talking to her other friends. I was so confused, and hurt, by her sudden change of behavior; I didn’t feel brave e
nough to approach her. This cold shoulder and refusal to talk about it was so unlike her.
It wasn’t until after the final bell that I had another chance to try to speak to her. I remembered how determined she’d been to make me see reason when I was being so stupid about Jackson. With that thought it mind, I decided I wasn’t about to let her just get by with not telling me what was wrong. I hoped, at least, if she was mad at me that she’d tell me what I’d done to upset her. I thought she knew I’d do whatever it took to right my wrong.
I silently followed her to her locker. Once there, I watched while she fiddled with the combination for a minute before she got it open. I waited for the people with lockers on either side of her to get his and her stuff and leave before I leaned against the locker to her left. I stared at her, hoping she’d look up, but she kept her eyes down. Finally, I asked, “Do you still not want to talk about it?”
She spared me the briefest of looks as she shoved her books into her bag. “Not really,” she replied tersely.
“Will you at least tell me if this mood is directed solely at me?”
“Yes.”
When she didn’t elaborate, I asked, “Yes, you can tell me? Or, yes, you’re pissed off at me?”
“Yes to both.”
“Tee,” I sighed, “what did I do?”
She paused a moment, biting her lip, as if trying to decide whether or not she would tell me. I was fast realizing that, when—I refused to say “if”—Tegan finally forgave me, that I would never again do something to make her angry. It seemed she was an entirely different person when she was upset.
I wracked my mind, trying to figure out what I’d done. The only thing I could think of was canceling our plans on Wednesday, but since she’d been okay the day before, that didn’t seem to fit. Before I could come up with anything else, she said, “I saw your MySpace.”
It took me a moment to process that because it seemed like such a strange thing to say. “So?”
I tried to figure out what she might have seen on MySpace. I’d logged on last night and tried to add Oxide to my friends list; “tried” being the key word. The Internet was being dodgy and the browser froze up while I was trying to update.
Infinite (Strange and Beautiful, Book 1) Page 56
