Infinite (Strange and Beautiful, Book 1) (29 page)

I
looked around for a while, exploring the various areas of the library. I
discovered there was a computer lab near the back, and there were also a couple
of smaller rooms with plaques on their doors, referring to them as study
cubbies. I suspected more than studying went on in there when students were
unsupervised.

Mostly,
though, my focus was on all of the books. My heart swelled with pleasure for
all the new reading material I’d discovered. I knew I’d have to come back and
check out a few books before Thanksgiving. The drive to my grandparents’ house
was close to two hours and I could easily get through a shorter book in that
amount of time. It made me giddy.

I
was shaken out of my book-induced stupor when someone tapped me on the
shoulder. I jumped slightly and turned slowly. I was half afraid I was going to
find Mark Moses hovering over me, ready to drag me out of the library and stuff
me into another locker or worse, so I was surprised to find Jackson standing
there.

“Hey,”
he whispered.

My
answer was a somewhat breathless, “Hi.”

“Looking
for something?” he asked, nodding toward the stacks.

I
shook my head. “No, just browsing.”

“Yeah,
me too,” he sighed, combing his dark hair back away from his forehead only to
have it flop back into place, but he didn’t seem to notice. I thought it was
pretty adorable. “I have to do a book report,” he explained, “and I’m trying to
find something to read. Now would be a good time for one of those
recommendations you owe me.”

I
grinned a little at that. “Do you want something easy to read and write about
or would you rather read something a little more intellectually stimulating?”

“Either
one would work,” Jackson shrugged. “Just as long as the book is good.”

I
considered for a moment as I skimmed the shelf I was standing in front of. I
picked up the first title that jumped out at me. “
Flowers For Algernon
?”
I suggested, waving it in front of me. Then I reconsidered. “Although you
probably already read it in eighth grade like I did.”

Jackson
nodded. “It’s a good one though,” he said as I slid the book back into place.

“It
is. Sad though,” I said, looking back at the shelves. “
Fahrenheit 451
?”

“Read
it too.”

“Is
it any good?”

Jackson
made a face and shrugged. “I didn’t care for it, but it’s supposed to be one of
the classics, so what do I know?”

“I
think sometimes classic means extremely boring,” I commented, continuing to
survey the shelves.

“Too
true,” Jackson agreed, following the few steps I’d taken away to look at the
titles in one long stride.

I
bit my lip as I took a few more steps to look at the next section of bookcases
and scanned the titles. “What about
The Catcher in the Rye
?”

“I
haven’t read that,” Jackson admitted, eyes lighting with interest. “Have you?”

I
shook my head and held the book out toward Jackson hesitantly.

He
took the book and glanced curiously at the cover. “I guess it’s worth a shot,
right?”

“I
suppose so,” I nodded. “You’ll have to let me know if it’s any good.”

“Of
course,” Jackson grinned, tucking the book under his arm and leaning carefully
against the bookshelf. “So, what’s new?”

I
shrugged, wracking my brain for something interesting to say, but my mind was
strangely blank. Any useless conversation starters I might have normally had
seemed to have disappeared during my far from fun weekend.

“Nothing’s
new,” I finally answered. “What about you?”

Jackson
shrugged. “Just worked Sunday afternoon and hung out with my brother in the
evening.”

“Which
brother?”

“Jordan.”

“And
he’s middle one?”

“Yes.”

“But
not the one going through a quarter life crisis?” I clarified. “That’s Eric?”

“You
remembered,” Jackson grinned and nodded.

“So
you get along with your brothers then?”

“Yeah,”
Jackson nodded. “Jordan’s my best friend, but Eric and I get along pretty
well.”

“That’s
cool,” I said. “It must be nice to be friends with your siblings.”

“Yeah,
I guess so. We don’t always agree, but I know they have my back,” Jackson said.
While he spoke, he scanned the bookshelves for a moment before his eyes fell on
me. “So you and Skylar have never been close?”

I
tried not to grimace as I shook my head. “No, never.”

“Well,
that sucks. Maybe if you got to know her a little better, you might find she’s
not as bad as you think. When I was younger, I used to think Eric was the
biggest asshole in the world, and Jordan’s really good at being a jerk
sometimes.”

As
Jackson spoke, I felt something in my gut begin to stir. I knew he meant well,
but there was a nagging in the back of my mind. It was Skylar’s words ringing
in my ears, saying Jackson was only talking to me to get closer to her.

As
much as I wanted to flush those words out of my head and say they were lies,
there was also part of me saying maybe Skylar was right. Why else would Jackson
care if Skylar and I were close? Did he want me to get closer to Skylar so he
would be even closer to her? Was that what this was all about? But why would he
do that?
How
could he do that?

I
stared at Jackson for a minute, and I knew he expected me to either laugh or
smile or something, but when I didn’t, he frowned a little. I opened my mouth
to speak, but my throat felt dry, so I closed it, swallowed hard and tried
again. “I should get going. Tegan is probably wondering where I am.”

“Oh,
okay.” His brows knit, as if he was confused, but he nodded. “I’ll see you
around.”

“Yeah
. . .” I trailed before I hightailed it out of the library.

As
I walked down the empty hall toward the cafeteria, I remembered Tom Cruise’s
role as the vampire Lestat in
Interview with the Vampire
. I’d only ever
watched the movie once, but for a moment, I felt like a vampire myself; as if
someone had just taken a stake to my heart. If only I could turn to dust that
would float away out of existence, never to be seen again. That moment of pain
would have to feel better than the persistent ache in my chest from the fissure
in my heart.

Midway
down the hallway, I paused and turned, heading down another corridor to the
restroom. Once there, I locked myself in a stall and did the same thing I’d
been doing for days: I cried.

Normally,
I was a pretty happy go lucky person. I didn’t typically blow people off or
lie. Most of the time, I was content to stay out of my family’s way and let
them think whatever they wanted. Since my run in with Mark Moses at the end of
the previous week, though, it had felt like everything in my life was turned
upside down. More than anything, though, I felt so unlike myself. It felt like
it was one bad thing after another; needless to say, my upset with Jackson was
just another item to add to the list.

  When
Tegan found me crying in the restroom, her first thought was there had been
another run in with Mark Moses.

“What
did he do now?” she demanded. Her hands were on her narrow hips and her jaw was
set, as if she were prepared to hunt him down herself.

“It
wasn’t Mark Moses,” I muttered, wiping at my tears.

Tegan’s
thin brows drew together. “Then why are you crying?”

Reluctantly,
I explained about hiding in the library and running into Jackson there before I
repeated the conversation we had, including the conclusions I’d come to in
regards to Jackson’s motives. “Obviously, I’m of no use to him if Skylar and I
aren’t friendly.”

Tegan
didn’t immediately launch into a diatribe about how much of a scumbag Jackson
was like I might have expected, or maybe hoped. Instead, her features were soft
and sympathetic but also thoughtful. Finally, she said, “I don’t think he meant
it like that.”

“Oh
yeah?” I countered. “Do you seriously believe Jackson’s been talking to me and
hanging around me being nice because he actually
likes
me?”

Tegan
didn’t flinch at my venomous tone. Instead, she nodded as she said, “Yes,
that’s exactly what I think.”

“He
seemed pretty interested in Skylar when we were bowling,” I pointed out.
“Besides, she knows more about guys than either of us. She’s probably right
about the whole thing. Jackson just wanted to use me to get closer to her.”

“Come
on, Silly,” Tegan heaved a sigh. “There’s a huge flaw in that belief. First of
all, Jackson already knew Skylar. He wouldn’t need you to get close to her.
Second of all, he didn’t even know Skylar was going bowling when he agreed to
come,” she said. “And third, it wasn’t as if he asked you if Skylar was seeing
anyone. You were talking about siblings. You asked him if he got along with his
brothers, so you opened the door for him to ask about you and Skylar.”

“True,
but it was Jackson who told Skylar about going bowling,” I pointed out. “And
then look what happened—she wound up tagging along. And you weren’t there
today. He made it sound as if
I
needed to give Skylar a chance. Like I’m
the one that refuses to get along with her. Why should I be the one to make the
effort to get to know her better when she’s the one that’s convinced I’m some
sort of walking fatal disease she’ll catch?”

“She’s
not always like that,” Tegan said.

I
wasn’t usually one for yelling, but the words flew from my mouth sharp and
loud, “Don’t you dare defend her!”

“I’m
not defending her,” Tegan stated calm and evenly. “I was merely stating that
sometimes she’s nice to you.”

“But
most of the time she’s not.”

“You
never cared before,” Tegan said.

“Who
says I care now?” I replied, grumpily.

Tegan
sighed and lifted her hands up in the air as if to admit defeat. “I’m going to
my locker to get my books. The bell should be ringing soon. Are you coming to
class?”

“Yeah,”
I huffed as she walked over to the door. “I’ll be there in a few.”

“See
you later,” she said without looking back.

I
knew Tegan was just trying to talk some sense into me, but I didn’t feel like
hearing it. I usually wasn’t an angry person, but the way things had gone over
the last few days had me more upset than I had been in a long time. I just
wanted to be left alone to feel however I wanted without anyone telling me I
was wrong for feeling that way. I knew Tegan was probably frustrated by my
behavior, and I didn’t blame her. I had been acting less and less like myself,
and, to tell the truth, I was even starting to get on my own nerves with my
mood swings.

After
taking a minute to collect myself, I headed off to my locker and gathered my
books. Tegan and I didn’t talk much during Journalism as we helped organize
things for the special edition of the school newspaper, which was set to go on
sale Wednesday before Thanksgiving break.

It
mostly consisted of holiday recipes, fond memories of years past from staff and
students as well as family activities to help fill the long weekend. Any other
time I would have felt more enthusiastic about it, but I was having a hard time
with being thankful lately.

Tegan
and I didn’t talk between classes either, and at the end of the day, we merely
said, “See you later” before going our separate ways. I felt terrible for
pushing Tegan away, but I couldn’t blame her for deciding to back off and give
me some space. It was probably for the best until I could get a grip on my
emotions.

I
had to ride home with Skylar, which didn’t help my mood. She seemed unusually
cheerful, though, and sang brightly along with the songs on the radio. I had an
indescribable urge to punch her in the mouth and tell her to shut the hell up.
Being my ride home, I knew that wasn’t a wise move, so I sat quietly and stared
out the window, watching the buildings blur as we passed by. Each building
blurred into the next, making a swirl of odd colors. On a normal day, I might
have found it interesting. Pretty, even, but today it was neither pretty nor
interesting. Instead, it just made me close my eyes to ward off the headache it
caused.

When
we got home, Skylar and I kicked off our shoes at the front door and went our
separate ways. Skylar headed straight upstairs, and I went to the kitchen for a
snack. Toward the end of Journalism I realized I was hungry, which was no
surprise since I’d missed lunch. I grabbed the last can of Cherry Vanilla Dr.
Pepper from the refrigerator and bag of Brownie Bites before stationing myself
on the couch to watch
Dr. Phil
.

Guilt
over how I’d spoken to Tegan made it next to impossible to concentrate on the
show. She and I were never on bad terms. I couldn’t even remember the last time
we fought; it had been so long. I knew Tegan well enough to know that she
wasn’t really mad at me. She was merely frustrated, and with the way I’d been
acting the last few days, I couldn’t blame her.

After
finishing my Brownie Bites, I went upstairs and planned to give Tegan a call
and clear the air, but Skylar was on the phone. Since telling Skylar I needed
to use the phone would require talking to her, and because I still felt the
urge to punch her in the face, I chose to go to my room instead.

I
stationed myself in front of the computer, intending to kill some time until
the phone was free, but once the computer booted up, AIM connected and I saw
that Tegan was online. I selected her screen name, right clicked and selected
Send Instant Message. The little message box popped up, and I considered what I
should say to her before I started typing.

thesillywallflower:
Hi

For
a moment there was no answer, and I had the sick worry that Tegan was more
upset than I originally thought. It wouldn’t be like her to ignore me, but it
also wasn’t like me to shout at her when she was just trying to be a voice of
reason.