“What?” I gasped. “That’s ridiculous!”
I half expected Luke to say something like, “I know, right?” He didn’t. Instead, his eyebrows drew together in confusion. “How’s that?” he asked. “Jackson likes you just fine, and he seems normal enough.”
“Because Mark and I are just friends.” My words were firm and there was no question that I meant them.
“Glad to hear it because, as I was saying, at first I thought he might like you, but then I realized he only likes you as a friend,” he smirked. “But I think he’s got it pretty bad for Tegan.”
I was even more baffled by this statement than I was by the idea of Mark liking me. “What makes you think that?”
“For one thing, when neither Tegan or you are around, he talks about her a lot too,” Luke explained. “But not the way he talks about you. He’s called her pretty, and he even asked my opinion of her.”
Despite my surprise, my eyes grew wide and I had to cover my mouth to stifle a laugh. “What did you say?”
“I didn’t know what to say!” Luke exclaimed, rolling his blue-green eyes. “Like I’ve ever noticed how she looked! I think I told him she was nice looking, and then I changed the subject.”
That didn’t surprise me. If all else failed or if he wasn’t interested, Luke usually changed the subject. Still, I was confused. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because!” I just stared at Luke. I tried to convey through my expression that “because” was not a suitable answer. After all, how many times had Mom and Dad used that crappy explanation on us? Luke seemed to get it because he sighed. “Mark’s your friend. He should be asking you this stuff instead. I don’t want to get involved in his love affair.”
I thought it seemed a little late for that. “He’s your band mate,” I pointed out. “His love life could affect your music.”
“That’s why you need to handle this!”
I managed not to roll my eyes. “What do you expect me to do? I don’t know anything about relationships. I’ve only had a boyfriend for a few weeks myself.”
“But Mark’s your friend. Tegan’s your friend. They’re friends.” Luke looked hopeful. “Maybe just give them a little nudge in the right direction or something?”
I just looked at Luke. He looked like himself, but I was certain he’d lost his mind. What did he expect? It wasn’t like I could just snap my fingers and make Tegan like Mark. Of course, that was assuming Luke was right and Mark actually liked Tegan. “What if you’re wrong and Mark just thinks Tegan is pretty?”
“Then ask him!” Luke crossed his arms over his chest like a petulant child. “You’ll see. I’m right. I know I am.”
“So what if you are? Why are you suddenly so invested in Mark’s love life?”
“Because we are trying to get this band up and running. We can’t have distractions!”
Of course it all came back to the band. Still, I didn’t quite understand Luke’s logic. “Wouldn’t a new girlfriend be a distraction?”
“No,” he shrugged, “she could be his muse or some shit like that.”
“How romantic,” I scoffed, shaking my head. “You’re an idiot.”
“Whatever.” Luke rolled his eyes as he stood. “Just handle it, okay?”
He didn’t give me a chance to agree or argue. Instead, Luke swept out of the room, leaving me staring unblinkingly after him. Finally, I shook my head, trying to sort out what had just happened. I sighed, wondering how on earth Mark’s possible crush had become my problem.
Because it had been pointed out to me, naturally, it was impossible to ignore. The following day at lunch I was acutely aware of Mark sneaking looks at Tegan. When she spoke, he seemed to hang on her every word. He even held the door open for her. Granted, this gesture often resulted in several other people, including myself, taking advantage of it.
Still, I wondered how I’d failed to notice all of these little hints before. I’d always considered myself observant, and I’d missed something that now felt incredibly obvious. Of course, Luke’s planting the seed might have made things seem more apparent, but as much as I hated to admit it, his suspicions looked to be true.
I had no idea how I was supposed to “take care of it.” I wasn’t sure how to even begin to broach the subject. In retrospect, it really wasn’t that big of a surprise that Mark would like Tegan. Luke could try to downplay it all he wanted, but I was sure he was just as aware that Tegan was a very pretty girl. Of course, I really had no way of knowing if Mark’s feeling were based solely on looks or if he was truly interested.
Even if it went beyond looks, I had no way of knowing how Tegan would react to the news. It was hard, but I managed not to mention anything about it to her. I wanted to know where Mark stood first. From there, I had no idea, but with Luke pushing me to nudge Mark and Tegan and both of them giving me questioning looks, in turn, I knew I had to figure out something quick. Even if he didn’t know, I had a feeling this problem was mine just as much as it was Mark’s.
Despite growing to trust Mark, I wasn’t exactly comfortable approaching him about the affairs of his heart. After all, it was very personal, and the last thing I wanted to do was butt in, but that was exactly what Luke was asking me to do. He seemed to be living under the delusion I could work magic or borrow Cupid’s bow and arrows.
After observing and considering for a few days—and trying not to murder my annoyingly, bossy brother in the process—I decided it was time to talk to Mark. It was a Friday night, and the band had just finished practice for the evening. Tegan was celebrating her birthday, which was the following day, with her family. She was having a small get together at her house the next day, but Trista and Travis wanted to have a family celebration first. It felt like the perfect opportunity to speak to Mark alone.
He was standing in the kitchen, sipping on a can of Coke, and he looked up when I, nervously, said, “Hey, Mark?”
“Yeah?”
I could feel Luke, Stevie, and Toby’s eyes on me as I asked him if I could talk to him before he left.
Mark’s bushy eyebrows lowered over his eyes, making his already dark eyes seem even darker, and answered, slightly confused, “Sure.”
I led him, unsure where else to go with a house full of people, out onto the back porch. Thankfully, I was wearing a hoodie because it was a chilly, January night.
“So, what’s up?” Mark asked as we sat down on the back steps. Thankfully, the snow we’d gotten the day before was gone and the wooden stair—though rather cold— wasn’t wet.
I bit my lip, nervous and unsure. No matter how many times I’d tried to get the words right in my head in preparation for this conversation, it had been useless. Finally, I took a deep breath and then said, “I wanted to ask you something.”
Mark looked at me, apparently waiting for me to ask my question.
I decided I needed to preface this conversation with a warning. It was both out of respect for his privacy and my own self-preservation. “I’m not trying to be nosy, I swear, and if you don’t want to tell me, it’s cool. I’ll understand. Just, please, don’t to get mad at me for asking.”
“Okay.” He spoke slowly, warily, as he watched me fidget nervously. “What do you want to ask?”
I considered telling him that I didn’t want to ask, and Luke was making me do this, but I worried—not without reason—that Mark might kick Luke’s ass on my behalf. Instead, I blurted out the question. “Do you like Tegan?”
I winced as soon as the words were out. I’d meant to be subtler about it, but I couldn’t find the patience to gently coax the answer from Mark. After all, it was cold, and I kind of just wanted to get this whole thing over with, both so I’d know and so that I could go back inside and warm up my suddenly numb behind.
Mark had been glancing around the backyard while I worked up the nerve to speak, and at my words, he turned, abruptly, back to face me. “What?”
I couldn’t read his expression, and that made me nervous, but I tr
ied to play it off by smirking slightly. “You heard me.”
“I did,” he nodded. “What makes you think I like her?”
I didn’t miss that he neither denied nor confirmed the possibility. I shrugged, figuring it best to keep Luke out of this. “Just an observation.”
Mark groaned. “Is it that obvious?”
“She has no idea if that’s what you mean.”
“Good,” he breathed out, relieved.
“You don’t want her to know you like her?”
Mark didn’t answer immediately. “It’s not that I don’t want her to know. It’s just . . .” he seemed to search for the explanation. “I don’t think she sees me that way. I doubt she ever will.” He buried his face in his hands, shaking his head. “I mean, why would she?”
“Why would you say that?” For some reason, I felt both angry and offended.
“You’ve seen her,” he muttered, his words muffled due to the hands still covering his face. “Look at me. Why would she want this when she could have someone nicer and better looking?”
“Do you really think Tegan’s that vain?” I suddenly understood Tegan’s frustrations with me when I thought I never stood a chance with Jackson because Mark sounded quite a bit like me.
“No.” Mark sounded so sullen. “But she’s a good person.”
“Yes,” I agreed, “she is.”
“That’s just another reason why she wouldn’t feel the same way about me.”
I wasn’t following. “What do you mean?”
“Think about it, Silly. Honestly. Look at how I treated you. I was awful. I hurt you, and I scared you. Shit, I don’t even know why you speak to me,” he said, running his hands through his hair and keeping his eyes lowered.
“I never even apologized. I always meant to. I just never knew how. I’m not too good at that kind of thing, you know,” he sighed. “But I am. Sorry, I mean. I swear to God.”
Even though he was talking about something from only a few months earlier, it felt like it happened a million years ago. Things had changed so much since then. I hardly thought about it all anymore.
“Mark?” He turned, somewhat reluctantly, to look at me. I held his gaze as I spoke. “I know you’re sorry, and I forgave you a long time ago.”
“Why?” He seemed genuinely baffled. “I don’t deserve it.”
“Don’t be silly.” I rolled my eyes. “Everyone deserves a second chance.” Mark didn’t seem to know how to respond to that, so I pressed on. “So, what are we going to do about this crush on Tegan?”
Mark raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean we?”
“Friends are supposed to help, right?” I shrugged.
“I guess.” He took a second to process that before he grinned slowly. “So, what are we going to do?”
“Got me,” I grimaced. “But we’ll figure something out.”
“Thanks,” Mark chuckled. “Not just for Tegan, I mean, but for everything. Being such a good friend and shit.”
I wondered what it was with guys and this “and shit” they felt compelled to tack on to everything. Still, I smiled. “You’re welcome.”
Mark studied his large hands and I looked out at the backyard. “Would you believe I broke my arm and leg trying to climb that tree?”
Mark looked up, following my gaze to my reading tree. “No shit?” In typical boyish fashion, he sounded impressed. “How’d you manage that?”
“Skylar and Luke used to climb it all time,” I explained. “Of course, I wanted to do anything they did, so I tried to climb it the first time when I was about five. I made it a third of the way up before I lost my footing and fell down on my arm.” I shuddered, remembering the pain. “My mom had to rush me to the hospital. I was in an itchy cast for six weeks.”
“What about your leg?”
“I decided to try again the next summer.” I laughed in spite of myself. “I can’t even remember how I managed to fall that time, but I heard the bone snap and it hurt like hell. After we came home from the hospital with a cast on my leg, my dad said that if I tried climbing it again, he’d cut it down, so I never tried again.”
“So you never reached the top then?”
“Nope,” I sighed. “I guess I never will.”
Mark smiled. “It’s probably for the best.”
I nodded, even though it had always nagged at me. It felt so unfinished, like the broken bones were for naught because I’d never accomplished my intended goal.
I pulled my hoodie tighter, trying to ward off the cold, and sighed. I watched as the visible puff of air floated out in front of me and disappeared before I turned to Mark. “Can I ask you something else?”
He sounded less nervous this time as he replied, “Sure.”
“Where’s your mom?”
Mark spared me only the briefest of looks before turning away. At first I thought he wouldn’t answer, but then he spoke in a low tone, barely above a whisper. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
“You don’t know?” I frowned.
He shook his head. “She left when I was thirteen. She got tired of putting up with my dad and claimed she needed to find herself again or some shit like that, so one day, while he was at work and I was at school, she packed up and left.”
“Why didn’t she take you with her?” I had to ask. I’d never considered this possibility; I couldn’t understand it.
“She left a letter for me. Said she thought it would be better if I stayed.” He shook his head, making it clear he didn’t agree. “She said she didn’t know where she was going and didn’t have much money.”
“And you haven’t heard from her since she left?”
“She sends cards at Christmas and my birthday,” Mark shrugged. “Sometimes anyway. When she remembers, I guess. And the postmark is always different. Guess she’s still trying to find herself.”
I tried to imagine Mom doing something like that, but I was positive she could never leave her children behind like that. My heart hurt for Mark. I couldn’t imagine what he must feel. “Do you miss her?”
“Sometimes, yeah,” he nodded. “Other times, I hate her.”
I bit my lip, trying to hold back tears. “I’m sorry, Mark.”
“So am I,” he whispered. “So am I.”
Saturday, January 27th, 2007
I just got home from Tegan’s birthday party. It was a lot of fun. She didn’t invite many people. There was Tee and her family, a couple of her other friends from school, Jackson, Mark and me.
I usually feel awkward around Tegan’s other friends. That’s probably why Tee doesn’t hang out with them and me at the same time that much. Tonight, for the first time really, it felt okay, though.
I don’t know if it was because I felt less awkward about myself having Mark and Jackson there, or if Tegan’s friends felt more comfortable because they didn’t have to go out of their way to include me.
That’s usually the part I dread most about them. They’re not unfriendly, but conversation is always so stilted; like they don’t know what to say to me; like I’m some sort of subhuman they can’t speak to at the same level as they address each other.
I don’t dislike them, but I can’t say I’m overly fond of them either. I think we tolerate each other on occasion for Tegan’s sake. Finally having a wider circle of friends myself helps.
Also, I can’t help but feel a bit smug at the fact they were checking out my gorgeous boyfriend all evening. I shouldn’t bask in their jealousy, but after all these years of stilted conversations, covert glances and hushed whispers, I feel I’ve earned it.
Anyway, Tegan got a good haul of gifts. Her parents gave her some new equestrian gear, which she was very excited about because she’s been able to go and ride Buttercup more in the last couple of weeks since the weather hasn’t been too bad. She’s hoping for an early spring, so that she can get back to riding more regularly.
She also got a lot of CDs as gifts, and I gave her a stack of books. I hit the jackpot at the local books
tore when I was browsing their clearance section. All in all, she seemed really pleased with everything, and that’s enough to make me happy.
And, of course, I brought along the camera I got at Christmas and put it to a lot of good use.
-Silly-
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Because we’d been experiencing a reasonably mild winter, Tegan was hopeful for an early spring, but she and I probably should have known that it was too good to be true. The unpredictability of the weather was nothing new. One day it might be warm and sunny and feel like it was on the brink of spring while the next could be a dark, gloomy snowstorm that served to remind that winter was still in session, which was what happened on the first day of February.
I went to bed late the evening before, dreading the thought of getting up in only a few hours, and woke the next morning to Mom shaking me awake enough to tell me that school had been cancelled on account of the snow we’d gotten overnight. I drifted easily back to sleep, blissful and warm, with a smile on my face.
Some hours later I woke again, feeling well rested and joyously lazy. I headed downstairs to fill my rumbling belly. I found a note from Mom on the table, explaining that she had to go to work.
“Bummer,” I mumbled. The school where Mom taught was in a different district, and apparently the snow wasn’t as bad there. Still, I felt bad that she had to drive through the snow in Skies Hollow to get to Walnut Valley. I hoped that the snowplows had at least paved the way to make the drive a bit easier on her.
I peeked outside, expecting to find a blizzard, but while there was a significant amount of snow, it didn’t look too bad. Of course, the snowplows had probably already been down our street a few times. It was hard to say what it looked like before Mom and Dad left for work.
Slightly worried, I fixed myself a bowl of cereal and went into the living room. I channel surfed while I ate, but once my cereal was gone, I gave up on television. There was nothing on; I decided to take a shower.
Infinite (Strange and Beautiful, Book 1) Page 44