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Infinite (Strange and Beautiful, Book 1)

Page 43

by Brittney Musick


  Jackson considered the combination for a moment. “So, sort of indie folk rock?”

  “Something like that,” I nodded.

  “Then it sounds like Luke would be crazy not to put their problems aside and give her a shot.”

  “That, and it would save everyone else’s sanity in the process.”

  Dinner zoomed by, filled with more conversation and the occasional comfortable silence. I was somewhat surprised by how smoothly the evening was going. I’d half expected to find myself feeling awkward or embarrassed again. As often as Jackson and I spoke on the phone, online or at school, it was somewhat different speaking face to face without being surrounded by friends and family, but the awkwardness never came.

  After dinner, Jackson suggested we go to The Bean. “We can get some of that awesome hot chocolate and maybe some dessert.”

  “Sure,” I agreed. “They probably have some kind of entertainment tonight, too, since it’s Friday.”

  “You going to read me some of that poetry of yours?” He was grinning, so I could tell he was just teasing, but I still mentally shuddered at the thought.

  “Nope,” I said, trying to sound as breezy as possible. “Maybe someday.”

  “I’ll hold you to that,” Jackson smiled, and this time I thought he might be serious.

  The coffeehouse was on the same side of town, so the drive was short. Parking was scarce, so Jackson had to park close to some other cars. I could tell it pained him to do so, but he didn’t complain.

  Saturday was usually their biggest night, but the coffeehouse was still pretty busy. It looked like a lot of people were ordering to go while others had come to watch the guy singing as he played guitar up on the small stage.

  Jackson insisted I find us a table while he ordered. I managed to grab a table as a couple was leaving, and I listened to the music while I waited for Jackson. The guy wasn’t bad. His sound was a bit of folk and alt-country that made me think of Wilco or Neutral Milk Hotel.

  He had actually just launched into a cover of Wilco’s “I Am Trying To Break Your Heart” when Jackson appeared at our table with two large cups of hot chocolate and a big slice of chocolate chip cheesecake for us to share.

  We listened while we sipped on the cocoa and nibbled at the delicious cheesecake, but the Wilco cover was the guy’s last song. Another guy went up on stage after him and mumbled a few words before he launched into a song I wasn’t familiar with, so I wasn’t sure if it was a cover or an original.

  I glanced at Jackson as I speared another forkful of cheesecake and he was considering the guy on stage thoughtfully. He caught me looking and said, “This guy sounds very John Mayer-esque.”

  I listened more carefully and then finally nodded. “That song kind of reminded me of ‘Why Georgia.’” I met Jackson’s eyes again. “Do you have any of his albums?”

  He shook his head. “Clare’s a big fan, though.”

  “With good reason. He has a great voice and good songs.”

  Jackson grinned. “I think you have to be a girl to really fully appreciate John Mayer.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Right, and I suppose you have to be a guy to understand the appeal of girls like Britney Spears or Jessica Simpson?”

  “Something like that,” Jackson smirked. “I think my leanings are probably more toward, say, Mandy Moore.”

  “Nice.” I rolled my eyes. “I’d love to see you rocking out to ‘Candy.’”

  “Oh, I think it’s a little early in our relationship to let you see that.”

  I snorted, and then glanced around to see if anyone else had heard. It was only then that I really noticed that there were several other couples seated at the surrounding tables. It was both strange and wonderful to finally be one of those girls out for the evening with her boyfriend.

  I was having such a good time too. It wasn’t really much different from hanging out—except that Tegan wasn’t there as the buffer—but it still felt different; more intimate, somehow.

  Jackson seemed to be having a good time too, but it probably wasn’t exactly the same for him because he’d been out on a date before. I felt my curiosity grow as I wondered just how many girlfriends he’d had before me. I wasn’t jealous or worried about those other girls. Jackson could have had Skylar, and he wasn’t interested. He’d chosen me, so I believed that he genuinely liked me. I was just interested because we’d never really talked about it before. Of course, I’d never thought to ask either.

  When the guy took a break between songs, I turned back to Jackson and, feeling brave, asked, “Can I ask you a question?”

  “You just did,” he smirked.

  “Smart aleck.”

  “Yes,” he smiled, “you may ask me another question.”

  I prefaced the question by saying, “It’s personal, so if you don’t want to answer, it’s okay.”

  That earned me a couple of raised eyebrows and his eyes turned curious as well. “Shoot.”

  “Okay,” I blushed, almost regretting my moment of bravery in the face of embarrassment, but I pressed on. “Before tonight, when was the last time you went on a date?”

  It was obvious Jackson hadn’t been expecting that question because his brows drew together and his smile faded slightly as he pursed his lips and considered the question. “Gosh. I don’t know . . .” He was still thinking. “Last summer, I guess? Maybe around mid-July?”

  “Was she your girlfriend?”

  Jackson nodded.

  “Was it serious?”

  Jackson had to consider that for a moment. “Yes. No.” He shook his head. “I’m not really sure.”

  I wasn’t exactly sure what to make of that answer, but without thinking about it first, I asked, “Why’d you break up?”

  “You’re really going in for the kill, aren’t you?” he laughed.

  “Sorry,” I bit my lip blushing. “I wasn’t trying to be nosy. I was just curious. Forget I asked.”

  “No,” he waved me off. “It’s cool.”

  So I waited while he took a moment to gather his thoughts into words. “I met her while I was staying with Eric over the summer,” he explained. “She was visiting her sister, who lived in the same apartment complex. We kind of hit off and started seeing each other, but once it was time to go back home, we just decided to end things there on a good note.”

  I thought about that for a moment. I wasn’t sure what I’d been expecting, but an amicable breakup wasn’t it. Most people broke up because they weren’t interested anymore or the relationship wasn’t working. That didn’t seem to be the case here. I found myself asking without thinking, “Do you still like her?”

  Jackson stared at me for a moment, looking at me as if I’d grown a second head. Finally, he said, “Obviously not. I wouldn’t be with you if I liked someone else. I hadn’t even thought about her until just now.”

  “Oh.” I didn’t know what to say to that. “That’s a relief” hardly seemed right.

  “Any other questions?” he grinned.

  I turned away, blushing. I thought for a moment, figuring it was probably better to get this Q and A out of my system while Jackson was playing along. “Actually,” I said, “I have one more.”

  “Oh God,” Jackson breathed, sounding pained.

  I looked up, worried. “What?”

  He winced as he asked, “Are you going to ask me if I’ve had sex?”

  I could feel the blush on my face intensify. In fact, I felt like my whole body was flushed. “No,” I said, low and emphatically. “To be honest, I hadn’t even thought to ask.”

  This time Jackson was the one to blush. Wanting to steer away from the awkwardness as quickly as possible, I said, “I was just going to ask when you realized you liked me as more than a friend.”

  Once the words were out, though, I realized I really didn’t feel any less awkward having asked that question.

  But Jackson seemed relieved because he laughed. “That’s easy,” he said. “I realized I liked you as more than a friend
over Thanksgiving break when I found myself missing you because we hadn’t talked in a while.”

  “Really?” I hadn’t been expecting that. I narrowed my eyes. “It wasn’t when I finally got breasts?”

  “Um,” Jackson coughed as his cheeks turned red. He looked away as he spoke. “I really never noticed a lack of them . . .”

  I bit my lip and tried not to laugh. His bashfulness was so endearing that I didn’t even think to be embarrassed by my words. I couldn’t think of anything to say to that, but his answer certainly won him some brownie points.

  After a moment, Jackson turned back to me. “When did you start to like me?”

  “Probably when you gave me a ride home from school.” I winced at the admission.

  “Really?” Jackson’s eyes widened. I nodded. “But you hardly even knew me then!”

  “I know,” I nodded. “But as I found out more about you, the more I liked.”

  “That’s good to know,” he grinned. He was quiet for a second as he fiddled with a napkin. “To answer that other question,” he peeked at me through his lashes. I nodded, showing I understood what question he was referring to. He breathed out slowly as he nodded, saying, “I have.”

  I’d never really thought too much about whether or not he’d had sex, but upon hearing that he had, I wasn’t that surprised. He was older than me, so I’d expected him to be more experienced. He was also very good looking, whether he recognized that or not. Even so, I wasn’t sure what to say, but Jackson looked as if he was waiting for me to say something, have some sort of reaction. “Congratulations” or “How was it?” hardly seemed appropriate. Instead, I finally whispered, “I haven’t.”

  I knew that he already knew that, though. I’d already confessed to never dating or even kissing a guy, so my confession couldn’t have come as a surprise. Still, Jackson didn’t laugh or point any of that out.

  Instead, he nodded. “That’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  I couldn’t help but smile because I knew his words were sincere.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  With all of the new, strange and exciting developments in my life—new semester of school, my first boyfriend, forging new friendships and a garage band in my, well, garage—I thought I was adjusting rather well. Of course, that was probably why life, courtesy of my brother, decided to throw me a curve ball.

  Oxide was taking more adjusting to than I’d initially thought; namely because it felt as if Luke’s band had taken over the house. Mom seemed to enjoy it more than I’d expected while Dad continued to refer to it as “noise.” Honestly, as much as they were improving, I was beginning to side with Dad.

  Practices took place at least three nights a week, and, given I’d always considered him to be somewhat laidback, Luke turned out to be awfully bossy. He went as far as synchronizing everyone’s work schedule, telling them what nights to request off, and if they couldn’t get those nights off, he all but demanded they switch shifts with someone.

  The issue of the lead singer was resolved two days after my first date with Jackson and a total of eleven days after the band was formed. The band was having a quick practice because Toby and Nick had to work. They’re schedules had not yet been synced. Stevie stopped by while Skylar was at work, claiming she needed to grab something she’d forgotten the day before. After an extremely short trip upstairs to Skylar’s room—and coming back downstairs empty-handed—she found her way into the garage.

  The usual taunting began, but Robby spoke up before they could really get into it. “Why don’t we just let her audition?” he suggested.

  The look on Luke’s face was enough to melt a glacier, but when the other members murmured in agreement with Robby, Luke sighed, shrugging as if admitting defeat and waved Stevie further into the garage. “Fine,” he muttered. “Let’s do this.”

  The moment Stevie sang the first line from “Call Me When You’re Sober” by Evanescence with clear conviction Robby, Toby, Mark and Nick were ready to name her their lead singer. Luke tried to play it off like she wasn’t that great, but I saw his jaw drop a little when she started singing.

  After a little powwow, where I was sure Luke was trying to come up with every reason under the sun not to allow her into the band, Luke asked Stevie to sing a couple more songs. She sang “Pressure” by Paramore and “Comatose” by a band named Skillet, which I thought was a good move because the lead singer was male and I could just imagine Luke using gender as a reason to keep her out of the band.

  Of course, as it turned out, Luke didn’t have a leg to stand on because everyone else was like putty in her hands after hearing her sing. If I could have voted, I’d have voted her in as well. Reluctantly, after conferring for a couple of minutes, Luke sullenly faced Stevie. “All right,” he sighed, “you’re in. But if you so much as think about pulling any of that diva shit, you’re gone.”

  “That won’t be a problem,” Stevie smirked. “I think you’ve already got that market cornered.”

  When Skylar first found out about Stevie’s induction into Oxide, she was about as pleased about it as Luke. She covered it pretty well after that, though. I’d occasionally hear her muttering about it, but she kept it at a dull roar, which was a nice contrast to Luke’s constant grumbling.

  Despite his displeasure, though, things seemed to pick up once they had Stevie. All of the practice they’d put into learning songs seemed to pay off because, with someone to sing, it all finally came together into something really good. Also, it made listening much more enjoyable.

  Luke’s dedication was admirable. I’d never seen him so excited about something before. The closest things were probably football and baseball, but his passion for football had burned out, and any time Dad mentioned the upcoming baseball signups, Luke was quick to change the subject. I wasn’t excited to see what would become of that.

  Even so, his band mates were less than thrilled with his gung ho, drill sergeant attitude. Luke liked to fire off directions and suggestions of all kinds. Most of the time everyone would just nod and carry on, but when he turned his back, Luke was often the recipient of the one finger salute.

  By the end of Oxide’s third week of as a full band, it was completely normal to hear songs by bands such as Evanescence, Green Day, Breaking Benjamin, and Flyleaf coming from the garage. They’d occasionally throw in something different. Tegan was particularly thrilled when they played “The Frug” because Rilo Kiley was her favorite band, pretty much, ever.

  I thought it was pretty awesome too because I loved the band, but my excitement was somewhat overshadowed by shock. I’d had no idea Luke even knew who Rilo Kiley was. I had a feeling that the song came at Stevie’s suggestion, as with the Paramore, Death Cab For Cutie and Anberlin covers. I was happy for the occasional new song, though, because I was getting a bit tired of some of the other songs they’d repeatedly played.

  When I didn’t have to hear them play, I had to hear them talk about the band on a daily basis during lunch. Since joining the band, Stevie had also crowded in at our table. Skylar would occasionally sit with us, but I couldn’t blame her for wanting a break. Half the time Luke sounded like a motivational speaker, asking the whole group about goals and where they’d like to be in a year’s time.

  I distinctly heard Toby mutter, “Hell. It couldn’t be much worse than this.”

  Jackson, Tegan and I usually conversed amongst ourselves when we didn’t feel like watching or listening to the lunchtime band meetings. More often than not it was a good source of amusement, but I was certain I wasn’t the only one who wished Luke would just shut up and let us all enjoy our lunch. He seemed to eat, sleep, and dream about the band, which was why it was a bit of a shock when he came to me one evening after practice to inform me of a rather interesting suspicion he had.

  I’d just finished my homework and was about to get online to see if Jackson was home from work yet when Luke showed up. The door was already open, but he knocked at the frame, drawing my attention.r />
  “Hey,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

  I was surprised, but I shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Sure.”

  He stepped into the room and took a second to look around. “Did you clean your room?”

  I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. The fact he considered various piles of clothing scattered around the room and other items in a state of disarray to be clean spoke to how much of a slob he was compared to me. “You wanted to talk to me about the cleanliness of my room?”

  “No, of course not.” Luke sat down on my bed without invitation, but instead of saying whatever it was he came to say, he was quiet.

  “So,” I prompted, “what did you want to talk about?”

  Luke leaned his head back, eyes on the ceiling. He sighed heavily, breathing out the words, “It’s about Mark.”

  Immediately, I was worried. “What about him? He’s isn’t causing problems, is he?” I’d been to most of their practices. I’d only missed a few, either to go out with Jackson, hang out at Tegan’s or simply because I needed a break from listening. Still, I hadn’t missed that much and Mark had always been on his best behavior.

  Luke’s head dropped forward and he shook his head. “No, it’s nothing like that. He’s been great, really. Damned dedicated.”

  That was a relief, but it didn’t totally wipe away my worry. “Why do you want to talk about him then?”

  “Okay,” Luke began, “I don’t know for sure or anything. It’s more a suspicion, really.”

  I stared at him, waiting for him to make sense because I had no idea where he was going with this, and it was so unlike Luke to beat around the bush.

  “At first I just shrugged it off, ya know?” He didn’t wait for an answer, so I guessed that was rhetorical, which was good since I still wasn’t sure what the question was. “I mean, you and him are friends and all, so it wasn’t a surprised he’d talk about you a lot.”

  I couldn’t help but ask. “He talks about me a lot?”

  “Yeah, well, at first it was just you,” Luke nodded, “so I was beginning to think maybe he liked you or something.”

 

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