Infinite (Strange and Beautiful, Book 1) (62 page)

“Nothing,”
he shrugged, trying to hide a grin.

“Jackson
Parker Hart. Why are you laughing?”

“It’s
just funny.” He tried, unsuccessfully, to suppress more laughter.

I
glared without any real heat and slapped him playfully. “What would you have
done if one of your friends asked you for help?”

“I
don’t know!”

“So,
you didn’t ask anyone for advice about what do when you liked me and didn’t
know how to tell me?” I tried to sound diplomatic, like I was merely trying to
prove a point, but now that the question was out there, I found myself
genuinely curious.

Immediately,
Jackson sobered and a tinge of pink appeared on his cheeks. “Well,” he
shrugged, obviously embarrassed, “I might have.”

“Who’d
you ask?” I sounded more eager than I liked.

He
looked away, his cheeks growing pinker, as he answered. “Eric. Jordan. Clare.”

“Gee,
needed a whole panel of advice just for me, did you?”

“You
are
a rather unusual girl,” he grinned.

I
stuck my tongue out at him; laughingly, I then wrapped my arms around his
shoulders. “I’m sorry I’m not normal.”

“Don’t
be.” He wrapped his arms around me as well, pulling me closer. “That’s what I
like about you.”

Aside
from his amusement, Jackson didn’t have much to offer by way of advice. This
left me at a bit of a loss. Even with Mark trying his hardest to gain Tegan’s
attention, she didn’t seem to be catching on. Given Tegan was usually pretty
perceptive, it was quite frustrating.

After
what felt like the most excruciating week without Tegan catching on, I’d had
enough. Despite his best efforts, each day without even so much as a flicker of
recognition from Tegan, I could see Mark growing more and more hopeless.

I
was fresh out of ideas, so I did the only thing I could. When I went to hang
out at Tegan’s house on Saturday evening, I laid it out plainly for her.

We’d
just decided to watch season one of
Supernatural
when I said, without
preamble, “Mark likes you.”

Naturally,
she was caught off guard. She turned away from the DVD player and stared at me
for a moment, with her head cocked to the side, before she finally blinked.
“Excuse me?”

“Mark,”
I repeated slowly, “likes you.”

Her
eyebrows drew together. “Where did this come from? And what makes you think
that?”

“I
don’t
think
. I
know
,” I replied. “If you weren’t so oblivious,
you might have noticed his attempts all week to court you.”

The
expression on Tegan’s face was full of doubt. After a moment, she sighed. “It’s
finally happened, hasn’t it?”

It
was my turn to frown. “What’s finally happened?”

“You’ve
lost your mind.” Her words were filled with awe.

I
rolled my eyes, waving her off. “I have not. Mark
told
me he likes you.
Why do you think he’s been dressing and acting nicer?”

“He
said it was time for a change.”

“When
did you get to be so dense?” I sighed. “He’s doing it so you’ll notice him.”

“So
you’re really serious about him liking me?” She still sounded incredulous.

I
never remembered Tegan being so exasperating. “Of course I am.”

She
pursed her lips, as if trying to process the fact this wasn’t a joke.

“So?”
I prompted.

“So
what?”

“Surely
you have something to say about Mark liking you.”

“It’s
more of a matter of figuring out
what
to say.” She tilted her head to
the side, considering. “Why does he like me?”

I
shrugged. “What’s not to like?”

Despite
the truth of my words, Tegan smiled a little and shook her head. She was such
an amazing friend—kind, passionate and understanding—but compliments always
seemed to embarrass her, like she didn’t truly believe in her own goodness. Or
maybe it was just part of being brought up to be proud, yet modest, that held
her back from accepting compliments easily.

If
she were a part of Oxide, Luke would have knocked that right out of her. He no
longer knew the meaning of modesty. As far as he could see, he had put together
the world’s newest and greatest rock band in history.

“Tee,”
I said when Tegan didn’t reply. “He really does like you.”

She
was quiet for a long moment before she finally admitted, “I don’t know how I’m
supposed to feel about this.” 

That,
at least, I could understand. When Luke first approached me about the
situation, I’d been thrown as well. Even after getting to know Mark for a few
months, the mere idea had seemed bizarre and unfathomable. However, knowing
first hand how great Tegan was, I realized later I shouldn’t have been so
surprised.

“Are
you freaked out?”

“A
little,” she nodded. “It’s just . . . being friends with Mark seemed strange
enough, but this—this is a whole new realm of weird.”

“But
you should be used to weird after being friends with me for so long,” I teased
to lighten the mood.

Tegan
laughed, as I hoped she would. We then fell silent.

Finally,
I cautiously asked, “Do you think you could give him a chance?”

Tegan
didn’t answer right away, and when she did, her words were thoughtful. “I don’t
know. Maybe. I mean, what if it didn’t work out? Do you think he’d stuff me in
a locker?”

Even
though I could hear the real worry in her words, I couldn’t help but laugh. “I
don’t
think
he would,” I answered honestly. “He apologized to me for the
things he did.”

Her
eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

“Yep,”
I nodded.

Tegan
bit her lip while she thought. Then after a moment, she sighed.  “I think
maybe
if—and this is a big if—Mark keeps up with this new attitude and stays away
from the bullying, then I
might
consider giving him a chance.”

I
opened my mouth to answer, but she held up a hand. “No promises,” she said sternly,
“but maybe.”

Even
though I knew it wasn’t a definitive answer, I still smiled and squealed. It
wasn’t a “yes” just yet, but I thought it might be enough to please Mark for
now. I just hoped he wouldn’t mind too much that I spilled the beans about his crush
on her.

Most of
my life I’d never understood what the big deal was when it came to the
fourteenth of February. So it was Valentine’s Day. Yeah. Okay. Whatever. Sure,
it was probably great for those people with a significant other, but for single
people—or, at least, formerly single me—it just seemed like a ploy from
businesses to get couples to scour through displays of sickeningly, sentimental
cards, overpriced candies and chocolate and purchase ridiculous gifts in the
name of romance so they could make a quick buck.

In
the past, because neither Tegan nor I had ever had a Valentine before, we’d
usually buy cheap candy and spend the night hanging out, gorging ourselves on
sweets until our stomachs ached while watching horror flicks until we were all
gored out. It was our way of avoiding the typical depression that came with not
having a boyfriend.

Even
though it wasn’t a holiday I put a lot of stock in and certainly wasn’t over
the moon about, like some girls, I couldn’t deny I was excited about
celebrating the manufactured holiday with my boyfriend. I was also a bit
nervous about what to expect and a whole lot lost when it came to finding a
gift for Jackson.

The
Monday before Valentine’s Day, Jackson informed me that he’d managed to get
Valentine’s Day off, and he had already started making plans for our romantic
evening together.

“I’m
so jealous,” Tegan said when I relayed this news to her. “It’s so sweet.”

“I
know,” I agreed, but instead of sounding awed like Tegan, I sounded—even to my
own ears—sullen.

“What’s
wrong?” The incredulity was clear on Tegan’s face. She probably thought I was a
crazy person for not jumping around like Christmas had come early.

“I’m
just nervous,” I sighed. “I have no idea what he’s planning.”

“But
you like surprises!” Tegan argued.

“Apparently
not as much as I thought.” When it came to guys and relationships, I hated
feeling so uncertain. Even though Jackson’s intentions were good, the more he
hinted at our romantic evening, the more ill at ease I felt.

Skylar
didn’t help the situation any either. When she complained that most guys were
too stupid to plan anything for the holiday—no doubt a complaint referring to
Scott—I, stupidly, spoke up. “Jackson is planning something for us.”

Instead
of looking impressed, Skylar only snorted. “Probably to deflower you,” she
teased.

We
were in the living room at the time, and Luke was also there, but I’d thought
he was more focused on the television. It turned out I was wrong.

“He’d
better not.” Luke glanced my way, holding my gaze.

Any
other time I would have waved his words off as being cheap talk, but the
expression on his face was so fierce that I had no doubt he’d hunt Jackson down
and rip off some very important male parts if he even
thought
about divesting
me of my virtue.

“I
don’t think that’s what he has planned,” I assured Luke quickly.

Honestly,
the thought never would have occurred to me. In my mind, we hadn’t been
together that long. For some people a month and a half was probably considered
an eternity. Either way, as much as I liked Jackson, I wasn’t ready to take
that leap. We were still at the kissing stage; sex seemed a long ways away.

No,
I wasn’t concerned that Jackson was on a mission to get laid. Instead, my
biggest worry was Jackson would go all out and do something so nice that my
gift to him would just look incredibly lame.

“Don’t
worry about it so much,” Tegan said. “It’s the thought that counts anyway.”

Even
though I knew she meant well, that comment only served to make me more nervous.
I had this image of Jackson plastering on a fake smile and telling me how
awesome the gift was while mentally reasoning something along the lines of,
“This gift is super lame, but, oh, she meant well.”

Of
course, that really didn’t sound like anything Jackson would say. I was just
doing a good job of psyching myself out. The most annoying part was all of my
anxiety was over a holiday that I never even cared about before.

On
Valentine’s Day, the whole school seemed to be atwitter over the holiday. The
week before, student council had passed out order forms for the roses they
would be passing out during lunch on Valentine’s Day. Rather than being out of
any real appreciation for young, in love, couples, it was a great way for
student council to line its pockets.

It
seemed to be an unspoken rule that any boyfriend who didn’t buy his girl a rose
would be in the doghouse for an indeterminate amount of time. Personally, I
didn’t consider it to be a deal breaker. Sure, it would be nice to get a rose,
but if not, I wouldn’t banish Jackson from my sight for days.

I
ordered a rose each for Jackson and Tegan. I felt a bit guilty that I was
abandoning Tegan, and I didn’t want her to feel left out. However, I needn’t
have worried about Tegan because she wound up with half a dozen red roses and
one yellow. The lone yellow rose was from me, and with just one glance at Mark
with his red cheeks and averted eyes, it was obvious the other six were from
him. He wasn’t the only one blushing, though. Tegan’s face was bright red as
she held the roses close, inhaling the scent.

When
they got to me, I was just as shocked as Tegan to receive a bouquet of flowers.
I’d figured, if he gave me a rose at all, Jackson would probably only gift me
one or two; instead, I was handed a dozen red roses. Needless to say, I was
stunned. I’d never been the type of person that felt the price of a gift
determined its value. After all, the mix CD Jackson gave me at Christmas had
quickly moved up the list as one of my most cherished possessions.

The
roses alone would have been enough, but since I knew Jackson had more plans up
his sleeve, I was a bit worried he’d end up blowing a whole week’s paycheck
just on me. Despite my worry, I made sure to show my appreciation by giving him
a hug and sneaking a very quick and very light peck on the lips. “Thank you.”

He’d
been given his rose while I was marveling over my bouquet, and he twirled his
between his fingertips as he let loose that oh so breathtaking grin. “Happy
Valentine’s Day.”

By
the time I made it home from school, I was both nervous and giddy. I’d tried to
coerce Jackson into telling me what he had planned for the evening, but he
remained tightlipped.

Since
I was yet again stuck in a situation where I had no idea how to dress for the
evening, I asked Skylar for help. I’d have called Tegan to ask her, but when
I’d expressed my regrets that our Valentine’s Day tradition would be broken,
she’d shrugged it off, saying she’d made other plans for the evening. Since she
didn’t give specifics, I guessed she was probably going out with some of her
other friends.

Skylar
was in an unusually good mood, and I guessed she and Scott must have had
something special planned for the evening because she agreed to help me without
so much as a sigh or roll of her eyes.

Despite
my protests, Skylar decided to put my hair up in curlers. I thought the effort
would be for naught, but Skylar pointed out that my hair had more of a wave to
it since I cut it, so it would probably hold a curl better as well. I relented
and I let her set them in curlers.

It
was uncomfortable. The curlers were heavy and hot, and Skylar burned my neck
and ears while trying to wrap my hair around them.

“At
least you still have fingerprints,” she muttered when I complained.