Infinite (Strange and Beautiful, Book 1) (19 page)

Most
of the time I could brush off Skylar’s snide comments, and I probably wouldn’t
have been so upset about her “itty bitty titty committee” comment if she’d just
been joking, but she wasn’t. She’d heard me talking to Mom about it before, so
she knew how self-conscious I was about my body and used it against me.

I’d
tried calling Tegan to see if maybe Tierney or Trista would be willing to give
me a ride to the mall, but no one answered at her house. Then I remembered that
Tatum had a ballet recital that evening. My best guess was they’d gone out for
an early dinner beforehand.

With all other options exhausted, I went back up to my room and
collected the gift cards I’d received last Christmas. There were two, and I
knew I didn’t have much more than about five dollars on each of them, but I was
sure it would be more than enough to buy what I needed.

The weather had finally taken a turn for the cold, so I bundled up in
my coat, gloves and hat and went into the garage and hopped on my bike. I
hadn’t ridden it in months. The last time I’d been on it was when I went
camping with the Tylers and we rode them around the campground.

It felt a little awkward at first because I was taller. I figured I
probably needed my seat raised, but it would have to wait. The last time I
tried to adjust it myself, I wound up removing the seat entirely and couldn’t
get it back on. I had to ask Dad for help, and he wasn’t too happy.

When I was little, I loved riding my bike so much that Mom practically
had to pry me away. I’d ride up and down the driveway a million times. That
was, of course, before I started reading. Once I understood how letters
came together to form words, I was all about reading and riding my bike for fun
was long forgotten.

As
I got older, I’d sometimes ride my bike over to play with Tegan, and we’d
sometimes ride around the subdivision or to the small park near one of the
entrances. Once we were too old for that, though, Tegan and I would usually
only hop on our bikes only when we couldn’t find a ride.

I
pedaled my way down the driveway and out onto the sidewalk. I wasn’t used to
riding my bike in such cold weather, and my lungs felt like they were filling
with ice, making it hard to catch my breath. On top of that, it felt like my
seat was giving me a wedgie. It was beyond me why they made bicycle seats so
small. Who wanted to ride around with their butt hanging over the sides of the
seat? I didn’t. I needed one of those granny seats. It had to be at least a
little more comfortable.

It
was also hard to ride a bike wearing such a bulky coat and gloves, but I needed
them to keep warm. By the time I reached the mall, I felt frozen to the core. I
hated to think of what it would be like riding back home with bags in my hands.
I realized I probably should have brought a book bag to carry on my back or
something, but I doubted it would have fit over my coat.

I
parked my bike at the bike rack. Since I didn’t have a lock for it, I hoped no
one would steal it. It wasn’t top of the line and the seat was too small, but
it was still a nice bike. After all, we went way back; it had been getting me
from place to place without fail since I was twelve.

I
took off my gloves as I walked into the mall. The heat hit my numb face
immediately. I stuffed my gloves into my pockets and rubbed my hands together
as I headed into Target. I quickly found the paper plates and plastic ware. I
went ahead and got napkins too, thinking Mom wouldn’t appreciate it if I took
the ones from home and left the family without any. Because they were so cheap,
I also grabbed some festive looking streamers and went to pay.

As
I headed for the exit, dreading the cold, I tried to decide how I was going to
carry everything while riding my bike. I stopped near the doors to pull on my
gloves and adjust my hat and nearly dropped my bag when I heard someone call my
name.

With
a name like Silly, it wasn’t something I heard people yell out often unless
they were calling a friend silly, so I turned, curious, and was surprised to
see Jackson headed toward me.

“Hey,”
he said, smiling broadly.

“Hi,”
I squeaked.

Part
of me couldn’t help but feel mortified by the fact I looked like a giant, red
marshmallow in my coat. I was sure my hair was a mess from pedaling in the
wind, and I kept sniffling because my nose was cold. I knew I’d probably have a
cold after this, but despite the fact I probably looked anything but
attractive, I was still happy to see Jackson.

“Doing
some shopping?” He nodded toward the bag in my hand.

“I
had to get some stuff for school.” I noticed his hands were empty. “You?”

“I
came in to check the schedule and get my check from Friday.”

“Oh,
that’s cool,” I nodded, biting my bottom lip. I didn’t know what else to say.

“You
going out this door?” He motioned toward the doorway several feet away.

“Yeah.”
I instantly scolded myself as soon as the word was out of my mouth. I didn’t
want him to see how ridiculous I looked on a bike. It was already bad enough it
felt like my nose was starting to run. I was a snotty marshmallow. Could it get
any worse?

Naturally,
because I thought this, it did.

While
trying to wipe my nose inconspicuously, I dropped my bag. I immediately stooped
down to gather my things. Unfortunately, Jackson did the same and we banged our
heads together, as we grabbed for the items.

“Ow,”
we said in unison.

“Sorry,”
I blushed, avoiding Jackson’s gaze as I rubbed my forehead.

“It’s
okay,” he said, rubbing his head, as he picked up the napkins while I grabbed
the flatware and plates. I stuffed them into the plastic bag and held the bag
open for him to place the napkins inside because I didn’t trust myself not to
injure him while trying to take them from him.

We
both stood, and there was an awkward silence before Jackson said, “I’ll walk
you out.”

I
couldn’t think of a polite way to protest, so I nodded as he zipped up his
black leather jacket, which I noticed made him look pretty badass.

Once
outside, Jackson looked around the parking lot. At first I thought he was
trying to find his car, but I noticed it immediately parked at the back of the
parking lot away from the other cars closer to the entrance.

Envious of his cool, and most
likely warm car, I glanced over at the bike rack. I’d only been inside for a
short time, but it felt like the temperature had dropped in that time. I knew
I’d likely be an icicle by the time I made it home.

Why
couldn’t the legal driving age be fifteen instead? I wondered.

Finally,
Jackson looked at me and asked, “How’d you get here?”

My
face warmed, but my cheeks were already pink from the cold. “I rode my bike,” I
admitted.

Jackson’s
eyes widened—they looked greener today, I noted—and his eyebrows lifted; his
surprise was evident. “Seriously? Wasn’t that cold?”

“Very.”

He
appraised me for a moment before he said, “Get your bike. I’ll give you a ride
home.”

My
first instinct was to nod eagerly and thank him profusely. He was beginning to
seem a lot like my Prince Charming, coming to my rescue so often, but instead
of acting like an overeager idiot, I decided to play things cool.

“I
don’t want to be any trouble,” I said.

Jackson
grinned. “You’re a Granger. I thought trouble was your middle name.”

That
comment made me curious. I wondered if he knew something about Luke or Skylar,
or both, that I didn’t. I realized he probably did, but instead of asking, I
rolled my eyes and shook my head. “No, mine’s Noelle.”

“Hmm,
that sounds kind innocent and angelic,” Jackson speculated.

It
actually meant “born on Christmas day,” but I didn’t want to sound like a
know-it-all, so I just shrugged. “I’m not an angel, but I try to stay out of
trouble when I can.”

“Well,
there’s nothing wrong with that,” Jackson grinned, “and giving you a ride home
wouldn’t be any trouble.”

I
bit my lip as if to think it over, but there was no doubt in my mind I was
going to take him up on his offer for a ride. “Okay,” I finally nodded. “Thank
you.”

“No
problem.” He pointed toward the bike rack. “Is this your bike?”

I
grinned and couldn’t resist saying, “Well, seeing as it’s the only bike over
there, what do you think?”

“Smart
aleck,” he smirked as he walked over and pulled my bike away from the rack. He
pushed it over and off the sidewalk and toward his car. I followed suit and
watched as he unlocked the trunk and, effortlessly, lifted up my bike,
maneuvering it inside, careful not to scratch his car.

I
was surprised it fit, but Jackson managed just fine. He shut the trunk and
walked around to the driver’s side door and unlocked it while I went around and
pulled the passenger’s side door open and climbed inside. I shut the door and
pulled on my seatbelt as Jackson did the same before turning on the car.

“It
will take just a minute for it to heat up,” he commented, adjusting the heat.

Nodding,
I sat my bag on the floor and stuffed my hands into my pockets.

“So
why was it necessary to ride your bike in the cold to get that stuff?”

Sighing,
I explained. “We’re having a fiesta in Spanish tomorrow. I’m in charge of the
paper products, and I just remembered tonight.”

“And
you couldn’t find a ride?”

I
shook my head.

“Wow,
that’s dedication,” he said. “You should get bonus points for that.”

“No
kidding,” I laughed. I could feel the air starting to warm up a little.

Apparently,
Jackson could too because he sighed, rubbing his bare hands together, before he
looked around behind him and reversed out of the parking space. He maneuvered
the car around and drove toward the nearest exit.

We
stayed quiet until we were out of the mall parking lot. Then I said, “So, I’m
almost finished with
The Da Vinci Code
.”

“Really?”
Jackson seemed surprised. “When did you start reading it?”

“Tuesday,”
I admitted somewhat sheepishly.

“Wow,
you must be a fast reader.”

“I
get absorbed,” I shrugged.

“I’d
say so. It isn’t exactly a short novel.”

“Like
four hundred and fifty pages,” I commented, “but compared to Stephen King
novels, that’s not so bad.”

Jackson
glanced over at me as he came to a stop at a light. “You like Stephen King?”

I
nodded. “You read anything by him?”

“I’ve
started a few, but I’m kind of a slow reader,” he admitted, and for the first
time since I’d met him he seemed somewhat self-conscious about the admission.

“His
stuff can take a while to get through,” I said, trying to ease his
embarrassment. “I don’t know how many times I had to renew
The Stand
at
the library, but it was a lot.”

Jackson
smiled, seeming relieved, as he asked, “So what do you think of
The Da Vinci
Code
so far?”

“Oh,
it’s good. I really like it. I’ve had a hard time putting it down. I have a
feeling I’ll have to reread it, though, because there’s so much to absorb, and
I’m sure I missed some stuff.”

“It
is a lot to take in,” he agreed. The light turned green, and the car jerked
forward as Jackson pressed on the accelerator.

 “It’s
interesting. I can see why it’s caused so much controversy.”

“Yeah,”
Jackson nodded, combing his messy hair back away from his eyes. “I don’t put
much stock into it, but it does make for some really good reading.”

“Me
too. I like books that are complex like that. It makes you think.”

Jackson
smirked. “Why am I not surprised by that?”

“What
do you mean?” I frowned.

“Well,
after the first few times I talked to you, I could tell you were a thinker.”

I
wasn’t sure what to make of that. “Is that a good thing?”

Melodic
laughter filled the car, which worried me for a moment before Jackson spoke.
“Yes, thinking is good,” he answered, smiling over at me. “It means you have a
brain, and I like girls with brains.”

I
blushed and couldn’t help but feel giddy. I was sure he didn’t mean “like” as
in “I want to date you and call you my girl,” but it was still nice to know he
wasn’t into witless Barbies. Not that I thought he was to begin with, but it
was always hard to tell with guys. Most of them chose boobs over brains, and
even though my chest was bigger, I didn’t think what I had was that impressive.

I
finally managed to say, “Well, that’s good to know.”

Jackson
grinned and drummed his fingers along with the music playing softly on the
radio. “So, have you seen the movie?”

“Not
yet. I usually don’t like to see the movie until after I’ve read the book. Have
you seen it?”

He
shook his head. “I haven’t had a chance just yet.”

“Well,
you’ll have to let me know if it’s as good as the book if you see if before
me,” I said as he turned into the subdivision where I lived.

“Same
goes for you,” Jackson replied. “I can’t believe they got Tom Hanks to play
Robert Langdon, though.”

“Oh,
I know. I definitely don’t picture him when I’m reading,” I agreed. “I think
Audrey Tautou will be good as Sophie.”

“I’m
not sure who she is, actually,” Jackson admitted, after considering for a
moment, as he stopped at one of the many stop signs. “But the look of her in
the trailer seemed to fit.”

“I’ve
only seen her in
Amelie
,” I commented. “It was a pretty good movie, and
I’m not usually a fan of foreign films. I hate reading subtitles.”

“Well,
that shouldn’t be a problem with
The Da Vinci Code
,” Jackson assured me.
“There will probably be some subtitles, but I think it’s probably mostly in
English.”