Infinite (Strange and Beautiful, Book 1)

by Brittney Musick

  I opened my mouth to answer, but she held up a hand. “No promises,” she said sternly, “but maybe.”

  Even though I knew it wasn’t a definitive answer, I still smiled and squealed. It wasn’t a “yes” just yet, but I thought it might be enough to please Mark for now. I just hoped he wouldn’t mind too much that I spilled the beans about his crush on her.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Most of my life I’d never understood what the big deal was when it came to the fourteenth of February. So it was Valentine’s Day. Yeah. Okay. Whatever. Sure, it was probably great for those people with a significant other, but for single people—or, at least, formerly single me—it just seemed like a ploy from businesses to get couples to scour through displays of sickeningly, sentimental cards, overpriced candies and chocolate and purchase ridiculous gifts in the name of romance so they could make a quick buck.

  In the past, because neither Tegan nor I had ever had a Valentine before, we’d usually buy cheap candy and spend the night hanging out, gorging ourselves on sweets until our stomachs ached while watching horror flicks until we were all gored out. It was our way of avoiding the typical depression that came with not having a boyfriend.

  Even though it wasn’t a holiday I put a lot of stock in and certainly wasn’t over the moon about, like some girls, I couldn’t deny I was excited about celebrating the manufactured holiday with my boyfriend. I was also a bit nervous about what to expect and a whole lot lost when it came to finding a gift for Jackson.

  The Monday before Valentine’s Day, Jackson informed me that he’d managed to get Valentine’s Day off, and he had already started making plans for our romantic evening together.

  “I’m so jealous,” Tegan said when I relayed this news to her. “It’s so sweet.”

  “I know,” I agreed, but instead of sounding awed like Tegan, I sounded—even to my own ears—sullen.

  “What’s wrong?” The incredulity was clear on Tegan’s face. She probably thought I was a crazy person for not jumping around like Christmas had come early.

  “I’m just nervous,” I sighed. “I have no idea what he’s planning.”

  “But you like surprises!” Tegan argued.

  “Apparently not as much as I thought.” When it came to guys and relationships, I hated feeling so uncertain. Even though Jackson’s intentions were good, the more he hinted at our romantic evening, the more ill at ease I felt.

  Skylar didn’t help the situation any either. When she complained that most guys were too stupid to plan anything for the holiday—no doubt a complaint referring to Scott—I, stupidly, spoke up. “Jackson is planning something for us.”

  Instead of looking impressed, Skylar only snorted. “Probably to deflower you,” she teased.

  We were in the living room at the time, and Luke was also there, but I’d thought he was more focused on the television. It turned out I was wrong.

  “He’d better not.” Luke glanced my way, holding my gaze.

  Any other time I would have waved his words off as being cheap talk, but the expression on his face was so fierce that I had no doubt he’d hunt Jackson down and rip off some very important male parts if he even thought about divesting me of my virtue.

  “I don’t think that’s what he has planned,” I assured Luke quickly.

  Honestly, the thought never would have occurred to me. In my mind, we hadn’t been together that long. For some people a month and a half was probably considered an eternity. Either way, as much as I liked Jackson, I wasn’t ready to take that leap. We were still at the kissing stage; sex seemed a long ways away.

  No, I wasn’t concerned that Jackson was on a mission to get laid. Instead, my biggest worry was Jackson would go all out and do something so nice that my gift to him would just look incredibly lame.

  “Don’t worry about it so much,” Tegan said. “It’s the thought that counts anyway.”

  Even though I knew she meant well, that comment only served to make me more nervous. I had this image of Jackson plastering on a fake smile and telling me how awesome the gift was while mentally reasoning something along the lines of, “This gift is super lame, but, oh, she meant well.”

  Of course, that really didn’t sound like anything Jackson would say. I was just doing a good job of psyching myself out. The most annoying part was all of my anxiety was over a holiday that I never even cared about before.

  On Valentine’s Day, the whole school seemed to be atwitter over the holiday. The week before, student council had passed out order forms for the roses they would be passing out during lunch on Valentine’s Day. Rather than being out of any real appreciation for young, in love, couples, it was a great way for student council to line its pockets.

  It seemed to be an unspoken rule that any boyfriend who didn’t buy his girl a rose would be in the doghouse for an indeterminate amount of time. Personally, I didn’t consider it to be a deal breaker. Sure, it would be nice to get a rose, but if not, I wouldn’t banish Jackson from my sight for days.

  I ordered a rose each for Jackson and Tegan. I felt a bit guilty that I was abandoning Tegan, and I didn’t want her to feel left out. However, I needn’t have worried about Tegan because she wound up with half a dozen red roses and one yellow. The lone yellow rose was from me, and with just one glance at Mark with his red cheeks and averted eyes, it was obvious the other six were from him. He wasn’t the only one blushing, though. Tegan’s face was bright red as she held the roses close, inhaling the scent.

  When they got to me, I was just as shocked as Tegan to receive a bouquet of flowers. I’d figured, if he gave me a rose at all, Jackson would probably only gift me one or two; instead, I was handed a dozen red roses. Needless to say, I was stunned. I’d never been the type of person that felt the price of a gift determined its value. After all, the mix CD Jackson gave me at Christmas had quickly moved up the list as one of my most cherished possessions.

  The roses alone would have been enough, but since I knew Jackson had more plans up his sleeve, I was a bit worried he’d end up blowing a whole week’s paycheck just on me. Despite my worry, I made sure to show my appreciation by giving him a hug and sneaking a very quick and very light peck on the lips. “Thank you.”

  He’d been given his rose while I was marveling over my bouquet, and he twirled his between his fingertips as he let loose that oh so breathtaking grin. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

  By the time I made it home from school, I was both nervous and giddy. I’d tried to coerce Jackson into telling me what he had planned for the evening, but he remained tightlipped.

  Since I was yet again stuck in a situation where I had no idea how to dress for the evening, I asked Skylar for help. I’d have called Tegan to ask her, but when I’d expressed my regrets that our Valentine’s Day tradition would be broken, she’d shrugged it off, saying she’d made other plans for the evening. Since she didn’t give specifics, I guessed she was probably going out with some of her other friends.

  Skylar was in an unusually good mood, and I guessed she and Scott must have had something special planned for the evening because she agreed to help me without so much as a sigh or roll of her eyes.

  Despite my protests, Skylar decided to put my hair up in curlers. I thought the effort would be for naught, but Skylar pointed out that my hair had more of a wave to it since I cut it, so it would probably hold a curl better as well. I relented and I let her set them in curlers.

  It was uncomfortable. The curlers were heavy and hot, and Skylar burned my neck and ears while trying to wrap my hair around them.

  “At least you still have fingerprints,” she muttered when I complained.

  “Hey, this was your idea,” I reminded her.

  She did sigh then. And then she changed the subject. “So still no idea what Jackson’s planning for tonight?”

  “Nope.” I wanted to sigh, but I was afraid Skylar would take another layer of skin off the tips of my ears if I moved.

  “Must be something extra special.” I
could see her in the mirror, and she was grinning, which kind of made me nervous because I tended to associate Skylar’s grins with either flirting or something sinister.

  “Like what?” I tried, hoping she might have some ideas.

  “How should I know?” she shrugged. “But he must really like you if he’s putting so much effort into it.” She made a face, but then her expression brightened. “Mom is going to be so jealous of your bouquet of roses.”

  I frowned. “You don’t think Dad will get her any?”

  Skylar considered for a moment before she finally said, thoughtfully, “I don’t know. Maybe. I can’t foresee him doing anything particularly special. This morning he probably didn’t even remember it was V-day until he read it in the paper. You know Dad.”

  I could see her point, and even though it was just a fact of life, it also made me a little sad. “Well, I hope he does remember and does something nice for Mom,” I commented. “She deserves it.”

  Skylar shrugged, indifferent, as she continued to roll my hair up in the curlers. “That’s assuming Dad doesn’t go on the warpath when he gets home.”

  “Why would he do that?” I frowned.

  “Apparently,” Skylar sighed, “Luke has decided not to play baseball this year.”

  I jerked my head, trying to turn and look at Skylar. Since she was rolling my hair in a curler, it pulled my hair away from the scalp and I yelped in pain.

  “Shit, are you trying to give yourself a bald spot?” Skylar demanded, grabbing my chin from behind and forcing me to face forward again.

  “No,” I winced as she continued rolling my hair. That was going to smart for a while. I tried to ignore it by returning to the previous topic. “What do you mean Luke isn’t playing baseball this year?”

  “Brian Park asked me yesterday in Calc why Luke hadn’t been at tryouts,” Skylar explained. “So I asked Luke last night, and he said he’s not playing.”

  “I’m guessing he hasn’t told Dad yet.” No doubt we would have all heard it if he had.

  Skylar shook his head. “I don’t know what he’s planning to do about that. Dad’s been on him about how he won’t have the time for the band once baseball starts, which is probably why he’s opting out of baseball.”

  “Well, it is a bit of a time suck,” I reasoned. Even back in the fall, Luke had gone to some of the open gyms to practice with some of the other guys from his team. Then, once the season started, it was pretty much non-stop until the end of the school year. Last year, Luke had to take a leave from work because of baseball; there just wasn’t the time for it.

  As enthusiastic as Luke was about the band, I could see why he wouldn’t want to give it up for a sport he didn’t seem that interested in. He’d decided he didn’t want to play football last spring, and Dad had taken that hard, but he’d said, “Well, at least there’s still baseball.” I knew the fallout from this wouldn’t be pretty.

  Luke was good at baseball, or so I’d been told. Dad had always talked about him being able to get a scholarship and play college baseball. When he was younger, Luke had always seemed excited by the prospect, but he was so focused on Oxide these days. Even though baseball had been his first passion, it was clear—to me, at least—that music was more important to him these days.

  “Well, let’s hope, for Mom’s sake anyway, that Dad doesn’t ask Luke about tryouts tonight,” Skylar sighed. “At least you and I will be out of the house tonight.”

  That probably should have felt like a relief, but the idea of walking back into a war zone wasn’t particularly comforting. I decided I didn’t want to spend the rest of the evening worrying about it, though, and decided to change the subject.

  “What are you and Scott doing tonight?”

  “Not sure.” Skylar pursed her lips as she worked at the last few sections of my hair. “Probably dinner and then sex.”

  My eyes widened at her casual honesty. I was more than aware—mostly due to Stevie’s lack of shyness about claiming Skylar “hasn’t gotten laid lately” or other topics involving sex—that Skylar wasn’t a virgin. Still, these were comments that were made indirectly when I happened to be around. This was one of the few times Skylar had ever outright mentioned her sex life to me.

  “And he considers that his gift to you?” I questioned.

  “Well,” she began, a goofy grin spreading across her usually well-composed face. “He is rather talented. He does this thing with his—”

  “Skylar!” I cut her off, covering my face with my hands, as if that would block out the awful mental image. Apparently Stevie wasn’t the only one who lacked modesty. I had a feeling I’d never be able to look at Scott the same way again.

  “Honestly, Cecilia,” Skylar laughed. “You don’t have to be so uptight about it. I’m only joking. We’re going to dinner and then probably a party.”

  I glared at her through the mirror. “How was I supposed to know?”

  Her smile softened into concern and she stepped around until she was standing in front of me. “You really are nervous about tonight, aren’t you?”

  “Of course I am.” I probably should have felt embarrassed to admit it, but I wasn’t. “Jackson’s my first boyfriend, so this is my first time celebrating Valentine’s Day with someone. From what little tidbits I’ve been able to glean from him, it looks like he’s planned something really nice. What if my gift for him is stupid? I don’t want to look cheap.”

  “Listen,” Skylar sighed, “Jackson is a good guy. If he did something nice or expensive for you, it was because he wanted to. He’s not the kind of guy that will expect something from you in return.”

  I bit my lip. I knew she was right, and I kind of hated it because I was so used to Skylar acting dumb and self-centered. Why did she have to go and start making sense?

  “You’re right,” I sighed. “I know that.”

  “Then quit worrying,” she said, digging her makeup case out from under the sink. I hadn’t even realized she’d finished rolling my hair.

  “Don’t use too much,” I requested as she came at me with some concealer.

  She paused, one hand going to her hip as her eyes narrowed. “Do you want me to help or not?”

  I considering saying, “Yes, as long as I don’t look like a raccoon in the end,” but I figured that would be a good way to piss her off and cause her to retract her offer to help. Instead, I said, “Yes, I do.”

  “Then hush and let me do my thing,” she instructed.

  I kept my mouth shut, and Skylar went to work. I kept hoping she wouldn’t make me look like a cheap whore. As much as I liked to joke about Skylar’s heavy makeup, it honestly wasn’t so bad. It was more than I would wear, but only because I didn’t think I could pull it off. Skylar’s features were stronger and sharper than mine. Plus, she had the confidence to go with her bold look.

  When she finally told me I could open my eyes, what I saw in the mirror surprised me. While I was wearing more makeup than usual, Skylar had used neutral colors that helped to accentuate, rather than overwhelm, my features. Aside from the smoky eye effect she’d given me, my makeup mostly looked natural.

  “Thank you.” I sounded just as awed as I felt as I smiled at my reflection.

  “Don’t thank me yet,” she said. “We still have to find something for you to wear and finish your hair.”

  Because Skylar still found my wardrobe sorely lacking after a quick look in my closet, she took the search to her clothes. “You really need to start buying some dresses and skirts of your own,” she commented from within the depths of her walk-in closet.

  “But I almost never wear them,” I pointed out.

  “But you need them when occasions like this arise.” Her voice was muffled, but I could still make out her words. I shrugged to myself. I could see her point, but I hated to tell Skylar she was right about anything.

  After a moment, she emerged from the closet, holding a dress still on the hanger. It was navy blue with pleated lace, three quarter sleeves and a dee
p v-neckline. It was lower cut than what I would normally pick, but I couldn’t deny it was very pretty and also a bit sexy.

  Skylar held the dress up in front of me, pursing her lips before nodding. “Let’s see this on you.”

  I wasn’t sure I had enough to fill out the chest area, but I didn’t argue. Skylar had to help me pull my shirt off because of the curlers. Then she carefully helped me pull the dress over my head without it snagging on my hair. Once I straightened the top—surprised to find I could fill out the chest—and let the dress fall down the rest of the way, it hit just below my knees.

  Skylar chewed at the nail on her pointer finger as she studied me. After a couple of minutes, I couldn’t stand it anymore. “Well?”

  Finally, she nodded decisively. “I think this will work.” She motioned for me to turn around and look at myself in the full-length mirror on the inside of her closet door.

  I followed her wordless directive, and, as with when she allowed me to see my makeup, I found myself surprised by my reflection. The dress fit better than I’d have expected. While Skylar’s curves were more pronounced, thus resulting in more cleavage than I had to offer, the dress looked surprisingly good on me. Besides, I was perfectly happy keeping my newly acquired breasts under wraps. I really wasn’t fond of the whole “if you got it, flaunt it” saying.

  Skylar stepped up behind me in front of the mirror. “You know, kid, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were at least a few years older.”

  “I’m not a kid,” I groused, immediately irritated by the implication.

  “I suppose not,” she said lightly. “Anyway, let’s get these curlers out and finish your hair so I can start getting ready.”

  I turned to follow her out of the room, but I glanced toward the corner of her room where her art easel was set up. Although Skylar often liked to call herself artsy, her easel had been blank almost every time I’d been in her room. I often wondered why she wanted to go to art school since I rarely saw her drawing, but this time her easel wasn’t empty.