I popped the CD into my player and pressed play. A familiar slow, eerie beat filled the room as I crossed back to my bed, where I’d left the case. Without even looking, I recognized the popular Aqualung song. He’d obviously taken the title for the mix CD from the name of the song.
The booklet was stapled together at the center, and each page’s song title was lettered in a different style with an excerpt of lyrics from the song along with a drawing. Some of the drawings seemed to somehow reference the lyrics while others seemed to be based on things we’d talked about. From the title of the mix, I could only guess that the lyrics he’d chosen to use in the excerpts were the parts pertaining to me.
I blushed at some of the lyrics he chose to highlight, but I felt giddy and giggly nonetheless. I was thrilled that I knew most of the songs. There was only a couple that I wasn’t familiar with. One was a bluesy tune by Jonny Lang with sexy lyrics about coming alive and being set free by touch. I wondered, feeling flushed, if that was how I made Jackson feel.
The other song was by a band I’d never heard of called Waking Ashland. The lyrics mentioned surrendering and letting someone else call the shots. It made me curious, but I tried not to read too far into it in case I was interpreting this gift the wrong way.
Once I’d thoroughly examined the homemade booklet, I turned my attention to the other part of the present. As I’d suspected, it was, in fact, a DVD. When I looked at the cover and saw that it was The Client I was somewhat confused as to why he’d chosen to give that particular movie since it had been part of our brief falling out.
There was a card taped to the front of the DVD. I carefully pulled it away from the case. It wasn’t sealed tightly, so it was easy to slip a finger under the edge and open it. I pulled its contents out. There were two sheets. One was heavier paper, possibly cardstock, and the other was smaller and flimsier.
I opened the smaller one first and was confused to discover it was a receipt. At first I thought he’d included it by mistake. Then I saw what it was a receipt for: NicoDerm CQ.
I smiled, immediately realizing that it meant Jackson was trying to quit smoking. Some of the confusion still remained, though. As happy as I was for him, I wasn’t sure why he’d given the receipt to me.
Then I noticed that there seemed to be something on the back of the sheet, bleeding through. I turned it over, recognizing Jackson’s handwriting, where is said:
"Times New Roman","serif"; font-style: italic'>Because ‘I don’t think most girls are into kissing guys with mouths that taste like an ashtray.’
I laughed, surprised he’d remember something I’d said to him months earlier well enough to quote it, as I unfolded the other sheet of paper.
Silly,
"Times New Roman","serif"; font-style: italic'> If you’re reading this, it means I didn’t chicken out, and I gave your present to you. You’re probably wondering what it all means. When I came up with the idea, it all seemed so clever. Now, I’m not sure. I guess I’ll just let you be the judge.
"Times New Roman","serif"; font-style:italic'>The DVD is pretty obvious. I’m hoping we can watch it together sometime, which was my original plan. The receipt is because of what you said about kissing guys who smoke. Plus, it is a pretty nasty habit.
The songs on the mix CD are, as the title says, ones that make me think of you or describe how I feel about you. If you’ve read them, then I hope you picked up what I was trying to say. If not, then I’ll just say it. I like you. A lot. Not just as a friend, either.
There. I said it. I’ve wanted to say it for a while now, but I guess I was just too scared you might not feel the same way. If you don’t, it’s okay. Just do me a favor, if that’s the case. Just pretend you never read this, okay? It would save me from complete humiliation. But if you do feel the same way, then I hope we’ll talk soon.
Merry Christmas!
"Times New Roman","serif"; font-style:italic'>– Jackson "Times New Roman","serif";font-style:normal'>
For the next several minutes, I turned into a giggling twit. I fell back on my bed and kicked my feet up in the air while I sang a little ditty that consisted mostly of the words, “He likes me! He really likes me,” which was followed by “Jackson and Silly sitting in a tree.”
By the time I came back to my senses, I was exhausted. I wanted to call Tegan and share the news. She’d likely be just as excited as I was, if not a bit superior since she’d been right, after all, but she and her family were visiting her grandparents somewhere in Indiana and wouldn’t be heading back until the following evening.
That meant I was left to handle the situation on my own. It was somewhat daunting, trying to decide my next move. I lay in bed as I weighed my options. Even if I knew what I was going to say when I got there, it was too late to go over to his house now.
In the end, I decided I would ask Mom or Luke to take me over to Jackson’s house the following afternoon, after we’d opened presents and had lunch. I could get his address from the phonebook, and I could tell Mom or Luke I needed to give Jackson his present if they wanted to know why I was insistent about going on Christmas day. As for what I’d say to him, I decided I’d just wing it. How hard could it be to let him know his feelings were reciprocated?
With that decision made, I decided it was time to get some sleep. After all, I didn’t want to show up at Jackson’s house looking like something from Dawn of the Dead.
The next morning, I half expected it all to be a dream, but as I held Jackson’s note and reread it, I was assured that it was very much real. For the first time since I was little, I was the first one up on Christmas morning. Instead of sneaking into Luke or Skylar’s rooms to wake them or bursting into my parents’ room to wake them up to open presents, I took a long, hot shower before I dressed for the day in jeans and a plain hunter green t-shirt with a navy zip up hoodie over it. Then I took special care to dry my hair and even used Skylar’s flat iron to eliminate flyaway hairs before applying just a bit of makeup.
By the time I was finished, it was nearly eight o’clock and both of my parents were up.
“Why don’t you wake your brother and sister?” Mom suggested when she passed me in the hallway on her way downstairs to put the ham in the oven for lunch.
That was a frightening task, but I didn’t argue with Mom for fear she wouldn’t let me go to Jackson’s later. Neither Luke nor Skylar were easy to wake up, and when they did wake, they were most always grumpy. If I’d had a stick, I would have stood at the doorway and poked them awake with it.
Knowing Mom would ask questions if I went downstairs and got the yardstick, I sucked it up and entered Skylar’s room first. I shook her a couple of times, and she groaned. “What?” she asked sleepily as she rubbed at her still closed eyes.
“Mom told me to wake you up,” I said, quick to blame Mom for the disruption of her sleep.
She made an odd noise that sounded something like a cross between a drunken pirate and a cow. I stifled a laugh as I backed away from the bed.
“Go away,” she muttered.
“I will if you get up.”
Skylar huffed and lay there for a moment before she finally rolled over onto her back. I thought maybe she was just going to ignore me and go back to sleep, but after another second, she finally pushed herself up into a sitting position.
She looked around through bleary, sleep filled eyes. She squinted at me and yawned. “You can tell Mom I’m up now,” she rasped. “Now go away.”
I considered waiting another minute to make sure she didn’t lie back down and fall asleep, but her sleepy squint started to take on the features of an annoyed glare. Deciding I wanted to live to see another day, I tucked tail and scurried away.
I felt a moment’s relief before I remembered I still had to wake Luke.
My brother was surprisingly less scary. As soon as I shook him and reminded him that it was Christmas, he hopped out of bed and nearly beat me out the door. He was, apparently, anxious to open presents.
W
e convened downstairs in the living room. Skylar was the hold up, but Mom instructed Luke and I to pass out presents while we waited for her to appear. Once Skylar made it downstairs, showered and dressed but with makeup absent and hair pulled back into a sloppy ponytail, the tradition of going around the room and opening one present at a time began.
I hadn’t thought much about what I wanted for Christmas, but I wound up with a pretty good spread. Mom and Dad gave me gift cards for Barnes and Noble and Forever 21 as well as a digital camera. I was really excited about the camera. It was small and sleek. It looked to be state of the art, so that probably also meant it was expensive—unless it was one of Mom’s steals from her shopping excursion on Black Friday. Either way, I was really excited to put it to use.
My siblings were fans of giving the gift card, rather than shopping for an actual present. Skylar gave me cards for Victoria’s Secret and Bath and Body Works while Luke chose Best Buy and Hot Topic. Even if it meant laziness on the shopping front, Mom seemed happy there wasn’t much wrapping paper to clean up.
Everyone seemed to like the gifts I’d chosen for him or her. Mom fawned over the snow globe, and even Dad seemed to like the tie I picked out for him even though it was more colorful than he usually wore. Luke was even excited about the Bob Seger album.
“Awesome! I didn’t have this one,” he’d exclaimed. “Thanks, Sil!”
Because I didn’t know what else to get her, I wound up buying Skylar a sketchpad and colored drawing pencils. Even though she didn’t show Luke’s enthusiasm, it did earn me a genuine smile and a soft, “Thank you.”
We opted for bagels or cereal for breakfast, and once we’d all eaten our fill, we retreated to the living room to watch A Christmas Story and How the Grinch Stole Christmas. I preferred the animated version, but both Luke and Skylar wanted to see the live action version. Mom and Dad weren’t much help, and I didn’t feel like arguing, so we watched the Jim Carrey version.
After the movies Mom asked me to help her with lunch. The ham was already cooking, and Mom had prepared some of the side dishes the previous afternoon, so there wasn’t a whole lot left to do, but I was happy to oblige.
I was enjoying spending so much time with Mom. Plus, I thought maybe I could help ensure that at least part of lunch would be edible. Mom peeled the potatoes and I chopped them up, and while we waited for them to cook through so we could mash them, I made macaroni and cheese from scratch—recalling Travis Tyler’s recipe from memory—and Mom worked on the stuffing, which was, thankfully, from a box.
It was close to two in the afternoon by the time we finally sat down to eat, but everyone seemed to enjoy the food. We talked a little, and Dad reminded everyone of the plans for the next afternoon. Since Mom’s family didn’t live as far away, we didn’t have to leave as early, but we were expected for food and gifts in the early afternoon.
After lunch, Dad, Luke, and Skylar cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher, and I asked Mom to give me a ride over to Jackson’s house. She smiled knowingly and agreed to take me.
I considered calling Jackson beforehand to make sure he’d be home, but I was too chicken. Besides, him knowing I was on my way over only made me feel more nervous. Instead, I looked up his address in the phonebook and jotted it down to give to Mom.
“If you keep that up, you’re going to have that thing unwrapped for him by the time we get there,” Mom commented during the ride over as I picked nervously at Jackson’s gift.
I blushed, taking my hands away from the present and slipping them into my pockets so I wouldn’t be tempted to pick at it anymore.
Once I showed Mom the address, she knew right where it was. “Oh, that’s just on the other side of the subdivision,” she’d explained.
My nervousness seemed to grow the longer we were in the car and the farther we got from home. I had no idea what I was going to say once I arrived. I’d thought maybe not thinking about it would keep the nerves at bay. In retrospect, I wasn’t sure that was such a good idea.
I was able to pick out his house when I spotted his Camaro in the driveway. There was also a canary yellow vehicle in the driveway. I knew it had to be the Chevrolet Nova that belonged to Eric. Jackson had mentioned helping Eric put the final touches on the car while he was staying with his brother over the summer and helping at the garage Eric managed.
Mom wished me good luck and told me she’d wait to make sure I got inside safely.
“I can wait for you,” Mom offered.
I bit my lip. I hadn’t considered this part. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be,” I admitted.
Mom nodded, seeming to understand.
“Jackson can probably give me a ride home.” Assuming things went well, but I didn’t add that part.
“Well, if not, give me a call and someone at home will come and get you,” she smiled.
“Thanks,” I mumbled before climbing carefully out of the car.
I trekked up the sidewalk, holding onto Jackson’s gift, as millions of tiny little snowflakes fell to the ground around me. At the front door, I took a deep breath before I pressed the doorbell.
Immediately, movement could be heard from within. Then, a moment later, the door swung open to reveal a tall woman with hair the color of an old penny that curled down to her shoulders. She had heavy lidded eyes that were tawny brown around the pupil and a yellowish green around the rim. The small lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth hinted that she was older than she appeared. Something in the shape of her eyes and the sharpness of her cheekbones reminded me of Jackson. Then the corners of her mouth lifted into a familiar dazzling smile, and I had no doubt she was Jackson’s mom.
“Can I help you?” she asked in a smooth soft voice that immediately set me at ease.
“I hope so,” I answered. “I’m Silly, Jackson’s friend.”
Her eyes lit in recognition as soon as I said my name. “Oh, yes,” she nodded, opening the door wider. “I’m his mother, Siobhan,” she said, motioning me inside. “Come.”
Relieved, I stepped through the doorway as I explained, “I’m sorry for dropping by unannounced, but I wanted to bring Jackson his Christmas present.”
“There’s no need to apologize,” she said, closing the door behind me. “Have you eaten?” she asked. “We just finished lunch.”
“We just had lunch too,” I answered as she ushered me down a hallway.
She smiled, patting me kindly on the shoulder, as she guided me into a large open kitchen, where we found what appeared to be the rest of the Hart family. I held Jackson’s present to my chest as if it were a lifeline as my anxiety flared up again.
I found Jackson immediately, standing at the sink rinsing a plate. He glanced up, and when his eyes fell on me, they lit up as his mouth formed into the smile I now knew he’d inherited from his mother.
“Hi.” He sounded both surprised and pleased as he spoke.
“Hey,” I answered, feeling a little breathless and a whole lot embarrassed because I could feel the weight of everyone’s curious stare as Jackson dropped the plate and grabbed a towel, drying his hands as he walked over to me.
Someone cleared his or her throat, and Jackson and I both turned to look. It was a guy standing at the bar between the kitchen and the seating area. He was seated, but I could tell he was tall. I knew he had to be one of Jackson’s brothers, but I wasn’t sure which one.
His hair was a dark shade of brown but bore copper highlights the shade of his mother’s. It was short around the sides and back but longer on top and combed back off of his forehead in a stylish coif. He had a wiry build and a soft golden tan that seemed to contrast greatly with Jackson’s pallor.
“What?” Jackson snapped, obviously annoyed with the throat clearer.
“Aren’t you going to introduce us to your friend?” he grinned. His pale green eyes were mischievous with amusement. I noted that his smile wasn’t quite as large or luminous as his brother or mother’s. It was charming and disarming to be sure, but there was s
omething also a little bit dangerous about it.
Jackson rolled his eyes before making a face at me that seemed to say, “Family? What can you do?” He sighed heavily and began to make introductions. “You already met my mom.”
“Call me Siobhan, dear,” she reminded me.
I smiled and nodded, and Jackson continued around the room with the introductions. The guy at the bar was Jordan. From the annoyance Jackson seemed to have toward his brother, I was surprised he considered him his best friend, but I remembered Jackson saying that Jordan could be a jerk a lot of the time, so I guessed they must have had an antagonistic friendship.
Jackson’s dad was also a tall man. It was no wonder between both of his parents’ height that Jackson was so tall. Though his dad’s hair was graying at the temples, it was clear where the blue-black hair came from as well.
Eric was stockier and a bit shorter, but he and Jackson shared the same pale skin and dark hair, though the sun seemed to pick up a red pigment rather than blue. His hair was cut short and looked like it was still growing out from a buzz cut. His eyes were a soft golden color and more serious than either of his brothers’.
His sisters, Clare and Chloe, were in the middle of playing a game that Chloe received for Christmas, but they were both friendly. I’d half expected Clare to have purple hair after the way Jackson talked about her dying it. I was disappointed to find that it was a pretty, but ordinary, shade of auburn. She seemed to have a color similar to Jordan’s with golden skin and pale eyes.
Chloe was adorable. There really was no other way to describe her. She also seemed to be a mishmash version of her family. Her hair, the curly copper of her mother, fell down nearly to her waist. Her eyes, bright and joyous, were a swirl of color like Jackson’s. Her skin was the same golden tone as Clare and Jordan, and her tiny face was soft, like her father’s. Her mouth, like Clare’s, was a small pink bow shape and her small nose turned up slightly like her eldest brother’s.
Infinite (Strange and Beautiful, Book 1) Page 35