Skylar was on the phone, and Luke was too preoccupied with talking to Toby about the band to bother to bicker with her, so Stevie looked bored. The Project Runway marathon was still on, but she didn’t seem to be paying any attention. I thought Stevie secretly enjoyed arguing with Luke.
To put her out of her bored misery, I asked Stevie, “Who’s Skylar talking to?”
“Oh, Scotty boy,” she grinned.
“Why?” I was mystified. Since that day at the mall nearly two months before, when Skylar told me they’d broke up, I hadn’t heard another word about Scott from her. That was typical, though. After she and a guy broke up, it was usually as if he’d never existed at all because he was never mentioned again.
“Apparently, the lack of sex is getting to her,” Stevie drawled, examining her candy apple red nails. “I think she’s finally broken down and called to beg him to take her back. Or take her on her back. Whatever.”
Hearing this, Skylar glared at her, giving her the finger, before she turned away, returning her attention to the phone.
“Is there a party going on around here I didn’t know about?” Tegan asked curiously.
I shook my head, explaining about Luke’s new band and Mark’s upcoming “audition.”
Excited by the idea, Tegan exclaimed, “Awesome! Let’s go!”
Luke seemed annoyed he’d gained an entourage, but he didn’t argue about letting Tegan tag along and we headed out to his car. Sitting in the back, I read off the directions, and within fifteen minutes we were sitting in front of a slightly rundown single story gray house.
I’d been expecting the worst, so I was somewhat relieved to find it wasn’t so bad after all. The neighborhood itself was kind of dilapidated, so by comparison, Mark’s place was one of the nicer houses. It had probably been really nice at one point when it was better maintained, but I thought probably just a new coat of paint would probably go a long way to make it look better.
Tegan and I walked ahead while Luke and Toby stopped to take their instruments out of the trunk. I knocked at the door and shoved my hands into my pockets. The weather had been somewhat mild so far, but today it felt colder, and I found myself hoping for an early spring. As beautiful as the winter weather was, I always liked it better when it could be experienced through pictures.
Mark opened the door a minute later. “Hey,” he said, looking uncomfortable as Luke and Toby stepped up behind us.
“Hey,” Luke said, combing his fingers through his hair. I recognized he was nervous and couldn’t help but feel amused by the realization. “Thanks for doing this at the last minute . . .”
“Yeah,” Mark shrugged, but I could see that he was just as uneasy. “No problem.”
Toby seemed the most at ease as he glanced around and asked, “So, where are we going to do this?”
“Hopefully inside?” Tegan hinted, teeth chattering. I still couldn’t believe she’d walked over to my house in this weather even if it was only a few blocks.
“Oh, yeah,” Mark said, stepping aside and opening the door. “Come in.”
“Thanks,” I smiled, stepping in after Tegan. Toby and Luke followed, and Mark shut the door.
There was a prolonged silence before Mark finally said, “My drums are set up in the garage.” He walked around us, leading the way and motioning for us to follow him.
As I brought up the rear of our little entourage, I glanced around Mark’s house, curiously. It was a little shabby, but it looked like it had been tidied up a bit. I wondered if Mark had hurried to clean up before we arrived.
Overall, though, the house wasn’t so bad. It definitely had a more masculine flare, and I wondered about Mark’s mom. He’d never mentioned her. In fact, the only members of his family he’d ever really mentioned were his sister, Michelle, and her daughter, Hailey, who he’d spent both Thanksgiving and Christmas with. She lived in the next town over, Peony Hill.
As we passed down the hallway, I noticed some pictures of a much younger Mark hung along the wall. There was also several of a pretty girl with long, dark hair and a bright smile. I could see similarities in hers and Mark’s smile and the shape of their eyes, so I knew it had to be Michelle.
There were no family photos, though, and I couldn’t help but wonder again about Mark’s mother. Were his parents just divorced? Or had his mother passed away? I couldn’t imagine any decent mother leaving her child with the angry, mean man I’d seen in that school hallway.
I also didn’t miss the numerous cans of beer in the trash as we passed through the kitchen. I simultaneously wanted to cringe, thinking of Mark’s father, and give Mark a hug for having to put up with the drunk. It really was no wonder Mark was so misguided.
Unlike our house, his garage wasn’t attached and was located farther back behind the house. Thankfully, it had electricity hooked up, and Mark had hooked up a space heater sometime before we arrived—unless it was always there—so it wasn’t too cold.
Mark walked over to the drum set in the corner of the otherwise empty garage while Luke and Toby took their instruments out of their cases and got ready to play. Seeing Mark look so nervous was such a strange sight to behold, but once he was seated behind the drum set, he picked up the sticks, counted off and started playing and his usual confidence reappeared. I quickly understood why, too, because even though I knew absolutely nothing about playing drums, it sounded pretty damn good to me.
With one glance at Luke, I could tell he was impressed. He and Toby were both grinning like they’d just won the lottery as they started playing their guitars, weaving an odd cacophony of surprisingly pleasing music. Then the music slowly changed, shifting into an actual song. I didn’t recognize it, but Mark, Toby and Luke played on, lost in their own little bubble of musicality.
I looked to Tegan, wondering if she knew what they were playing, but she just shrugged, grinning and swaying to the quick beat Mark was keeping. She bumped me in the hip, making me move with her, and I started clapping to the beat, keeping time as I sway from side to side with Tegan.
As the song came to a close, Luke and Toby looked to each other, silently communicating, before nodding their agreement. Luke adjusted his guitar strap, shifting the instrument to his back, and crossed over to Mark.
“We’re looking to practice a few times a week and anytime we can during the weekend,” he said. “Think you can handle that?”
“Sure,” Mark answered slowly. “Does that mean I’m in?”
Luke grinned. “Hell yeah!” He stuck out his hand, offering it to Mark. After only a moment’s hesitation, Mark took it. They did one of those weird handshakes only guys seemed to know and nodded at each other.
They decided to jam for a little bit, so Tegan and I found a couple of old, plastic milk crates to sit on while we listened and talked. Mostly, though, we watched. It was bizarre, seeing my brother and Mark interact. They still seemed a bit wary of each other, and I could understand the reluctance. They were so different and lived at opposite ends of the social ladder.
It was somewhat odd because I never really thought much of Luke’s popularity while I was all too aware of Skylar’s social standing. Maybe it was just because she and I were both girls, and the comparisons were inevitable while things were somewhat different for guys.
Growing up, people had always commented on how different Skylar and I were. Everything from looks to personality was scrutinized just because we were siblings of the same sex. Even now, people—namely family—would still comment on the differences between my sister and I. No one ever compared Luke and I, or, for the matter, Luke and Skylar.
Seeing Mark and Luke interact, it made me curious about male socialization. Luke was popular and well liked, and Mark was antisocial and often avoided. Besides Tegan and myself, Mark didn’t seem to hang out with anyone else. I wasn’t sure he had any other friends. The only time I’d seen him interact with another guy was with Jackson and that was because of my doing. They’d seemed to get along well enough, but that did not a frien
dship make.
I’d realized in the past few weeks that once you got past the surface and dug a little deeper, Mark wasn’t nearly as bad as he liked to let on. Sure, he could be really mean when he wanted. Being shoved in a locker was proof of that, but underneath all of that, he was a decent person, and so far had proved to be a good friend as well.
It felt nice to see Mark interact with other people. As Luke and Toby were packing up, they started discussing when they should get together next to practice. I hoped this band thing would be good for all them, but especially for Mark, and, unlike Stevie and Skylar, I had faith in them and knew they could make it work.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
I’d heard people say “be careful what you wish for” so many times in my life, but it wasn’t until after Jackson called me to set up our first official date that I understood what the warning meant. It had nothing to do with first date jitters—though those did exist—and everything to do with my family’s unexpected interest in my life. Usually, whatever I said went in one ear and out the other, but the sudden existence of a boyfriend had apparently made them all pause and listen. Their newfound interest was nerve-wracking.
Dad had taken to asking me a million questions about Jackson. Unfortunately, these questions were no longer solely limited to his car knowledge. Instead, he wanted to know about his family and his job and his other hobbies.
I found the whole thing ridiculous since Dad hadn’t so much as batted an eyelash when Mark started showing up at the house to practice with Luke’s band. They’d decided on the name Oxide because “it sounded cool.” I doubted they even knew what it meant. Out of curiosity, I looked it up on an online dictionary and it had something to do with oxygen bonding with some kind of atoms. I figured I’d revisit the topic later in Chemistry.
Dad’s acceptance of Mark was unexpected. He’d seemed wary of him at New Years, and that was with his piercings toned down and tattoos covered up. When he came over for practice, though, Mark was back to his usual look. I’d have thought Dad would have been more concerned with Luke’s and my friendship with someone Dad considered a “delinquent.” It was, in my opinion, far more intriguing than my relationship with Jackson.
No one else seemed to agree.
Even Mom, who had been all about support and encouragement, was playing twenty questions. She was far less invasive about it and made it feel like less of an interrogation, but it was still strange to be at the center of attention all of a sudden. Mom mostly wanted to know how things were going.
Aside from when Jackson and I saw each other at school, we hadn’t really had much of a chance to talk. Sometimes Jackson would call if he got home from work early enough or we’d chat online at night before bed. Still, I didn’t mind. I liked seeing him in person, sure, but I also liked getting to know more about him.
Apparently, my relationship had caused Mom to start reminiscing because she was all too happy to reflect and share stories from her teen years. Her sudden openness was welcome, but that didn’t make it any less bizarre.
While Dad worried that Jackson planned to take me out and have his wicked way with me, Mom was mostly curious.
“Has he kissed you yet?” she asked one evening while we were fixing dinner together.
I turned away, blushing, and made a show of looking through the refrigerator. “Yeah,” I muttered, unable to face her.
“Oh.” Mom sounded intrigued. “How was it?”
I inwardly groaned. The whole thing was just so embarrassing. “It was really nice,” I finally managed, closing the refrigerator door. I considered opening the freezer to cool my flaming face, but I doubted it would help.
“Good, I’m glad.” And it sounded like she meant it. I looked at Mom over my shoulder and she was smiling fondly, as if remembering something. She shook her head a little and caught me looking. Her smile softened until it was almost a little sad. “Skylar would never talk to me about these kinds of things,” she confessed. “I know it’s embarrassing for you, but it’s nice to be included.”
Her admission was somewhat surprising. I’d always thought that Skylar and Mom had the better relationship. It was probably partly due to jealousy. When Mom would take us shopping when we were younger, it always felt like her focus was more on whatever Skylar had to say, inane as it might be. Thinking about it now, though, I realized that was really the only time Mom and Skylar were like that. They didn’t talk much at home, and my inquisitiveness aside, I realized barely more than a day ever passed without Mom and I having some kind of conversation.
Honestly, though, the interest wasn’t solely placed on me. Luke was getting his fair share of attention because of the band. When Dad wasn’t badgering me about Jackson, he was breathing down Luke’s neck about staying focused on school and the upcoming baseball season.
Luke always waved Dad off when he’d say, “Oxide is not your priority. It’s every teenage boy’s dream to have a garage bad, but a dream does not a future make.”
I found his outlook somewhat depressing, but, as far as I could tell, Luke wasn’t letting Dad rain on his parade. By the end of the day on the Friday we returned to school—still couldn’t believe we had to go back on Friday—Luke had secured two more members for the band. Robby was a friend of a friend who played keyboards, and Nick, who played guitar, was the cousin of the same friend.
Luke had come home from school that day, called up both guys and asked them about auditioning. Mom had given Luke permission to use the garage for practice. She’d even generously given up parking inside the garage—much to Dad’s chagrin—so that they’d have more space. Within a couple of hours, Luke, Mark, Toby, Robby and Nick were jamming out in the garage.
Mark had spent all of Thursday moving and setting his drum set up. Luke was at work, so I’d helped. I could see that Mark still had some misgivings about the whole situation.
“What if he gets a couple of douche bags to join the band that don’t like me?” he muttered. “I don’t want to have to move this all back to my house because your brother changed his mind.”
“He won’t do that,” I assured him. I wasn’t sure how I knew, but I was certain it was true. Luke was a lot of things, but fickle wasn’t one of them.
Mark wasn’t convinced, and I wondered at what point he’d actually start to trust me. “Okay, if he does, you have my permission to kick his ass.” Mark raised an eyebrow. “And destroy his guitar.” He grinned at that, and I hoped like hell my brother wouldn’t make me into a liar.
Mom invited Mark to stay for dinner that evening. The look on Skylar’s face when she came downstairs to find Mark Moses seated at the dinner table was priceless. Mom tried to coax some answers out of Mark, but he was pretty quiet throughout dinner. Then afterward Luke—he’d arrived home from work just in time for dinner—and Mark jammed in the garage for a while and I stuck around to listen.
As it turned out, Mark needn’t have worried about the additional members of the band. Nick and Robby were mostly jokesters, but they certainly weren’t douche bags. Luke, as the founder of the band, seemed to take most of the initiative in getting things underway.
Tegan and I sat in during a couple of jam sessions, and I was pretty surprised when Stevie showed up with a very reluctant Skylar. At first, she nagged Luke about everything that was wrong with what he was doing. Then she started in on how much they needed a lead singer to whip them into shape and complete the band. Then she started hinting that she was up for the job.
Luke either couldn’t take a hint or simply wasn’t interested, and I couldn’t say that I blamed him. Individually, I liked both Stevie and Luke, but when they were in the same room, it was never pretty. I couldn’t imagine them trying to work cohesively in a band.
For her part, Skylar just seemed annoyed that her best friend kept coming over to hang out in the garage and watch her brother’s band instead of hanging out with her. It was becoming more and more evident to me that, despite her show of confidence, Skylar had a serious jealous streak.<
br />
Jackson also seemed intrigued once I told him about the band. He didn’t seem to have any urge to be involved, but as a fan of music, he thought it was interesting. Because of work, he hadn’t been able to come over and listen, but I was kind of glad for it because I didn’t necessarily want to spend what time I could be with him watching my brother play music. Maybe that made me a little jealous, too.
Jackson had promised that once his work schedule fell back to the usual three or four days a week, we’d get together, and the week after school restarted, he made good on that promise. When he got his schedule for the next week on Thursday, we made plans to go out on our first official date on Friday night.
I was excited about it, but I was also very nervous. Rationally, I knew the only real difference between the other times he and I had hung out was that we were no longer simply labeled “friends” and kissing would likely—hopefully—be involved. Also, Tegan wouldn’t be around, which she seemed thankful for because she muttered something about “third wheels.”
The start of the new semester of classes helped to distract most of my worries. With the new semester came a new schedule of classes and teachers. When Tegan and I had compared our classes, I was disappointed to find we no longer shared the same schedule.
Unlike the upperclassmen, we weren’t given the opportunity to schedule all of our classes. We were given options as far as foreign language and electives, but which semester and which block we’d have the classes was done in the guidance office. As far as classes and scheduling went, I couldn’t say I was overly thrilled with the lot I’d been handed.
While I was in History, Tegan was in Biology and vice versa. We still had lunch together and shared the last two blocks. Lunch wasn’t quite the same anymore either. Mark still sat with us, but Jackson also shared our lunch period and sat with us. It was nice to get to talk to him for a solid thirty minutes midway through the day instead of just at the beginning and end of the school day. I felt bad, though, because I’d expected him to want to spend lunch with his friends as well.
Infinite (Strange and Beautiful, Book 1) Page 41