Infinite (Strange and Beautiful, Book 1)

by Brittney Musick

  “Probably so. Then after that you’re just old and don’t want to have anymore birthdays.”

  “Really, you think? After twenty-one?” I couldn’t ever imagine a time when I wouldn’t want to have a birthday. My family didn’t have big parties like we used to, but I still thought it was fun to open presents. Besides, how could cake and ice cream ever not be exciting?

  “That’s what my oldest brother claims anyway,” Jackson shrugged. “He’s only twenty-four, but I’m pretty sure he’s going through a quarter life crisis or something.”

  “You think he’s going to live until he’s . . .” I took a moment to calculate, “ninety-six?”

  Jackson considered a moment. “Yeah, maybe. Our great-grandparents lived until they were in their nineties.” He pursed his lips, as if to mock me with their kissableness. “I probably won’t live that long, being a smoker and all.”

  “You really need to get on that,” I said in the most serious tone I could muster, thinking of the motivational speaker. “Do I need to go see the guidance counselor about you? I’m worried, Jackson. This could just be the beginning of a journey down a dark, dark path.”

  “Well, I’ve haven’t stepped up to sleeping with people so they’ll buy me cigarettes, so I think we can hold off on that,” he winked—yes, actually winked—as the bell rang.

  I couldn’t help but grin as a thrill went through me. I couldn’t believe he was actually going along with my silly banter, as if we were really friends and hadn’t only spoken a couple of brief times.

  “Okay, but if you start propositioning me for money for nicotine, I’m going to the guidance counselor,” I warned, resuming the serious tone.

  “Dully noted. You have my full support on that decision,” he said, cracking a smile. “So, are you going out to the parking lot?”

  I nodded, trying to hide my disappointment that our conversation was coming to a close. To my surprise he said, “Cool, I’ll walk with you if you don’t mind.”

  Yeah, right. Like I’d actually have a problem with that? I kept my cool and smiled the least maniacal smile I could manage as I said simply, “Sure.”

  My inner fan girl was squealing like those crazy girls they always showed at ‘NSYNC or Backstreet Boys appearances. It might have been ridiculous, but Jackson really was that hot. Also, I noticed he smelled really good—like soap, boy, Pantene shampoo and a hint of cologne. I could only assume he wasn’t taking a gym class this semester, or he was more conscientious about deodorant than Luke and all of his friends.

  I couldn’t shake my surprise that Jackson didn’t mind being seen with me. After all, my own siblings wouldn’t even admit to being related to me. Of course, my opinion of Jackson was that he was way cooler than Skylar and Luke put together. The fact he didn’t seem to care what people would think of him for walking around with a spastic freshman like myself was only a small part of his cool factor. He also read—actual books, not just comics like so many other guys—and he was incredibly nice. Oh, yeah, and gorgeous.

  “How old is your sister?” I asked curiously as we followed the crowd migrating toward the exits.

  Jackson seemed a little surprised by the question. “Which one?”

  “You have more than one?”

  “I have two,” he replied.

  “And a brother as well?”

  “Two brothers, actually,” Jackson corrected.

  “Wow, five kids,” I murmured before remembering my original question. “I was asking about the sister that bought you the books, but you can tell me how old the other one and your brothers are too if you want. You know, so they won’t feel ignored.”

  “They’d be so pleased to know you were thinking of them,” Jackson laughed. “Clare is the one who bought me the book, and she’s fifteen. My other sister, Chloe, is five. As for my brothers, Eric—the one going through the quarter life crisis—is twenty-four, and Jordan is twenty.”

  “Wow, so you’re the middle child, huh?”

  “I am,” he nodded, “which gives me a license to misbehave and blame it on being ignored.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Nah.” Jackson shook his head. “Well, maybe it was kind of true when I was younger. Now I’m the oldest kid in the house. Makes a difference.”

  I considered that a moment, wondering if things would be different once Skylar and Luke moved out of the house, but I wasn’t sure it would be the same for us since I was the youngest and would be the only child left at home.

  Then I realized that Jackson’s sister was my age. I wondered if I knew her. Also, it might help me figure out Jackson’s last name. “Does Clare go to school here?”

  “Oh, no,” Jackson shook his head, “she goes to a private Christian school.”

  “Why?” I wondered aloud, unable to curb my curiosity. Then, trying to sound less curious, I teased, “It’s so she won’t end up a smoker like you, right?”

  That earned me the wonderful sound of Jackson’s melodic laugh. “Oh, yeah, that’s exactly it,” he grinned.

  Then he sighed, “No, really, she used to go to public school in elementary, but her best friend started private school in middle school, and she wanted to go where her friend was. It was kind of this big thing, but Clare argued her case, signed up for some scholarships and stuff, and in the end our parents let her go there instead.”

  “Your parents sounds pretty cool,” I commented, thinking of my own parents who probably would have shut the idea down without giving me—or my siblings—a chance to state our case.

  “I guess. I could have gotten worse.”

  I realized I probably could have too. As far as parents went, mine could sort of be sticks in the mud, but they were good people.

  “And, apparently, your parents like kids,” I commented.

  “You think so?” Jackson grinned. “I think my mom was just looking for more little dishwashers.”

  I laughed at that. I couldn’t imagine living in a house with six other people and not having a dishwasher. “Your house must have been so crowded when your brothers were at home.”

  “Oh, yeah,” he nodded. “I hated sharing a room, but I’m on my own now, so I can’t complain.”

  “I’ve never had to share a room,” I admitted.

  “Lucky!” Jackson nudged me in the side teasingly.

  I was sure he was probably right, but I’d always kind of wondered what it would’ve been like to have to share a room with Skylar. Tierney and Tegan shared a room, and even though they fought sometimes, they usually got along just fine. There were times when I longed for that kind of relationship with my sister and wondered if sharing a room would have brought us closer. Or, maybe, we might have wound up killing each other. It was too hard to guess now.

  When we reached the parking lot, I spotted Skylar’s car in the same space she had parked that morning. Relief that she hadn’t left without me washed over me, but there was a smaller part of me that wished she had. Then I might have been able to hitch a ride with Jackson again.

  “Well, thanks for the books,” I said, still holding them to my chest. “I’ll be sure to return them in the same condition as they are now.”

  “I don’t doubt that,” Jackson said, sounding sincere. “Take your time, and I’ll see you around.”

  “See you,” I said as he headed toward the last row of the parking lot. I stared after him for a second before I hurried over to Skylar’s car. I was surprised to find her seated inside, apparently waiting for me.

  “What took you so long?” she asked as I fastened my seatbelt.

  “Sorry, I was talking to Jackson,” I muttered as she shifted the car from park to drive.

  She glanced over at me, pushing her long hair back behind her ear. “Jackson who?”

  “Um, I don’t know his last name,” I flushed to admit. “But, you know, the guy that was over at the house with Scott a few weeks ago.”

  Her bright blue eyes widened slightly. “You mean Jackson Hart? Why were you talking to him? You w
eren’t bugging him again, were you?”

  “No!” I scowled at the accusation. “He was letting me borrow a couple of books.” My grip tightened on said books as I thought about reminding her that I hadn’t been bugging Jackson the first time I met him either, but I knew it probably didn’t matter much to Skylar. In her mind, because she considered my presence annoying, then I must be that way to everyone else as well.

  “Fine,” Skylar muttered, sounding annoyed and looking skeptical. “Just don’t make a nuisance of yourself.”

  “I wasn’t, and I won’t.”

  As if unable to withhold her disbelief any longer, she said, “Right, so you expect me to believe Jackson Hart actually wanted to talk to you?”

  “It seemed that way to me.”

  “You’re delusional.” Skylar rolled her eyes before turning her attention back to the road.

  I made a face, but I turned toward the window so she couldn’t see. I bit my tongue so I wouldn’t tell her that I didn’t care what she said or thought. Jackson didn’t seem to have a problem talking to me.

  At first I was fully committed to not speaking to Skylar the rest of the ride home, but the longer I sat and held my tongue, the more I felt like voicing my thoughts.

  “You know, some people aren’t embarrassed to talk to me,” I commented, turning back toward her. “Some people don’t care that I’m your little sister. Did you ever think maybe I wouldn’t want people to know I’m related to you?” I added as an afterthought.

  Skylar spared me only a glance but she didn’t reply, which was fine with me. My words had probably earned the whole family an evening of short answers and slammed doors, but I couldn’t find it in myself to care.

  CHAPTER SIX

  On the morning of my fifteenth birthday, I half expected to wake up feeling like a whole new person, but the truth of the matter was fifteen didn’t feel much different from fourteen. Perhaps I was expecting too much to wake up a few inches taller and with actual breasts, or maybe it was just wishful thinking.

  My parents didn’t make a fuss about my birthday. Mom hugged me, kissed me on the forehead and said, “Happy Birthday, baby.” After a little throat clearing and a meaningfully glance from Mom, Dad chimed in with happy birthday wishes.

  As expected, Luke and Skylar didn’t say anything about my birthday, aside from groan and roll their eyes when Mom said, “Be home by five thirty tonight.”

  Naturally, they wouldn’t want to spend their Friday night with the family, but they both looked slightly less disgruntled when they found out we were going to eat at Red Lobster. I couldn’t say if their appeasement had more to do with eating seafood or the idea of seeing me, undoubtedly, embarrassed out of my mind after our waiter or waitress was informed it was my birthday. I suspected it was the latter.

  Tegan, at least, showed much more enthusiasm about my birthday. I was greeted with a hug and an excited, “Happy Birthday!” Then she presented me with presents.

  She replaced my copy of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. I suspected this was a last minute gift after the debacle a couple of days earlier. She also gave me a couple of CDs I’d been wanting and three humorous t-shirts that made me think of Jackson and his silly shirts.

  The first shirt was teal and had an illustration of a Jaws style shark head tearing through the center of a book with the words “Reading is Jawsome” around the book. The second was a gold shirt with the words “Camp Anawanna” and a canoe beneath the words in a deep red. I recognized it as the logo from the old show Salute Your Shorts, which Tegan and I used to watch on Nickelodeon when we were little.

  The last shirt was a red scoop neck tee with a black and white illustration of a sallow girl with long black hair and straight bangs, who I recognized as Emily the Strange, and a black cat accompanied her. Beneath the illustration it described her as “World’s Strangest Girl.”

  I laughed and hugged the shirts to my chest. “Is this last one a reference to me or to Emily the Strange?”

  Tegan grinned and shrugged. “Maybe a bit of both?”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  Tegan gave me her best innocently apologetic smile. I wondered how she was so good at doing that since she hardly ever got in trouble. I decided she must practice.

  I sighed, rolling my eyes. “Thank you for the presents. Even the one that mocks my oddity. I love you anyway.”

  “You’re welcome.” She hugged me again. “I really wanted to get a Camp Anawanna shirt for myself,” she commented.

  “I’ll let you borrow mine sometime,” I offered.

  I stowed my gifts in my locker and, begrudgingly, Tegan and I headed to class. I received a few Happy Birthdays from classmates throughout the morning. I suspected Tegan had tipped them off before I arrived at school. I was able to escape Mark Moses and keep my lunch money—a gift all of itself—and was presented with more gifts in the cafeteria.

  Tierney, who usually sat with her friends, was waiting for us at the table Tegan and I usually occupied with Tegan’s other friends. She had a homemade cake sitting at my usual spot at the table.

  “Dad helped Tanner and Tatum bake it for you last night,” Tegan explained.

  Their kindness more than made up for my family’s lackluster feelings about my birthday. Once again, I revisited the idea of the name change and possible adoption.

  Tierney also had gifts for me—the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants DVD and the three book box set of the first three books in the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants series as well as Keep in Touch: Letters, Notes, and More from The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, all of which were by Ann Brashares. Even though I’d read the books in the box set, I was excited to have a copy of my own, and I was really excited to get Keep In Touch because I hadn’t read it yet since the library, rudely, didn’t carry it.

  As if Tegan, Tierney and the rest of their family hadn’t already made my day, I just happened to look up as I was gathering my gifts at the end of the day and was getting ready to go meet Skylar at her car. It was like déjà vu as I spotted Jackson Hart walking toward me.

  That out of this world smile of his was in place as he greeted me. “Hi.”

  I greeted him the same as last time, with a confused and somewhat breathless, “Hi.” I was so surprised he was seeking me out yet again. It had only been a couple of days, and I worried that he might need his books back. I’d already finished Looking For Alaska, but I hadn’t brought it with me to school as a precaution against Mark Moses.

  “So,” he began, surprisingly serious, “I remembered you said your birthday was today.”

  The seriousness threw me off, so I nodded and answered with a confused, “Yes?”

  “So I thought I’d wish you happy birthday.” Then he smiled a smile so sweet that it took me a moment to even notice he was handing me a paper. “It’s nothing fancy, but it might be the best piece I’ve created in art class in a while, so please appreciate the fact that I didn’t turn it in for a grade.”

  I looked down at the paper, which was folded in half to make a card, and read the cover. It said:

  Sweet 16! Hooray! Sixteen is finally here! So grab the keys and put the car in gear! Happy Birthday!

  Underneath the surprisingly neat and kind of loopy writing he’d drawn a car. It was so fantastic that I dreaded the thought of reminding him that I was only fifteen, but then he motioned, grin spreading across his handsome face, for me to open the card.

  I did as I was told, and the inside of the card read:

  Oops! That’s not until next year. I’ll be taking those keys back now. Hopefully, you’ll forget about this card by this time next year because that was the best I would come up with!

  – Jackson

  “Thanks.” I laughed, shaking my head. “That’s great.”

  “Nah, I know it’s lame.” Jackson shrugged, as if to lessen the blow of his self-depreciation. “I’m not good with sappy cards and all that.”

  “Well, I think it’s pretty awesome,” I assured hi
m. “And funny.”

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  “I do. And I’m pretty impressed you remembered my birthday.”

  “Did I earn brownie points?” He was just teasing, I knew, but his smile was also kind of flirty. It made insides flutter.

  “Of course you did, but I hope you’re not expecting to cash in on some spectacular prize. That will only end in disappointment.”

  “I just like the good conversation,” Jackson shrugged, “but, between you and me, I think the present company is pretty spectacular.”

  I could feel myself blushing, but it was, not only highly amusing, but also pretty flattering that he thought I was good company as well as a good conversationalist. It also made me wonder what kind of conversations he was having with other people. I’d handled these talks with him pretty well so far, but I was also known for my bouts of randomness.

  “I like the conversation and company too,” I admitted, “but if I don’t want to miss my ride, I better go.”

  “I won’t keep you then.”

  I almost opened my mouth to tell him I wouldn’t mind if he wanted to keep me, but, thankfully, some kid shoved into me as he passed, causing me to lose my balance. With lightning-like reflexes, Jackson caught me by the shoulder and kept me from toppling over while he yelled after the guy that ran into me, “Hey! Watch where you’re going!”

  I vaguely made a mental note that his righteous indignation on my behalf was endearing and was grateful to him for saving me from being trampled underfoot in the rush to get out of the building, but, mostly, my thoughts were zeroed in on the fact that Jackson’s hand was still on my shoulder. I managed to get a good look with his hand so close, and, boy, did he have nice hands.

  “You okay?” he asked. He cautiously removed his hand from my shoulder, much to my disappointment, but his hand hovered nearby as if to steady me in case I hadn’t regained my balance. Sadly, it seemed I had.

  “Yeah, thanks,” I blushed. “Gravity just doesn’t like me much, that’s all.”