Infinite (Strange and Beautiful, Book 1)

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Infinite (Strange and Beautiful, Book 1) Page 50

by Brittney Musick


  “Fine,” Jackson agreed. I suspected we’d end up eating at McDonald’s or some place equally cheap.

  As promised, when I got home I called Mark, asking if it was okay if Jackson and I tagged along. Instead of telling him Tegan was nervous about being alone with him all evening, I said, “Jackson and I were talking about the concert and thought it might be fun to go together.”

  Mark sounded relieved when he said, “Sure, I don’t mind.”

  When I told Tegan the news, she thanked me profusely. “It’s not that I don’t want to go,” she added. “I like Mark well enough, but I’m not sure I’m ready for the one on one when we’re an hour away from home, you know?”

  “I get it,” I said, “but Jackson and I will try to give you two some space once we get to the concert. We’ll just be there in case you need a buffer.”

  After I got off the phone, I checked to see if the tickets were still available. Thankfully, they were, so I emailed the link to Jackson, so he could take a look when he made it home from work. I also bypassed Dad, knowing he’d be the harder of the two to convince, and asked Mom about going when she got home from work.

  “Since it’s a Friday, I guess we can extend your curfew,” Mom said once I’d relayed what information I had about he concert. “Who will be driving?”

  “I’m not sure yet,” I answered honestly. I didn’t particularly look forward to riding in either Jackson or Mark’s car for over an hour. “I’m sure Mark and Jackson will work out the details tomorrow. I’ll let you know.”

  Mom merely nodded and turned her attention back to preparing dinner.

  Later that night, as I was doing homework, I was startled by the sound of raised voices coming from downstairs. I sat my books down on the bed and got up, crossing the room to the door. I opened it slowly, so it wouldn’t squeak and crept along the hallway to the landing of the stairs.

  The voices grew louder, and I jumped again when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to find Skylar. I hadn’t realized she was home from work yet.

  “What’s going on?” she whispered.

  “I think Luke’s telling Dad about his decision to quit baseball,” I guessed, keeping my voice low. Skylar grimaced and backed away. “Where are you going?”

  “Staying the hell out of the crossfire,” she answered as she slipped back into her room.

  I turned back to the stairs and listened, but none of the words were clear. Shrugging, I decided to brave the storm and crept slowly down the stairs. When I reached the middle landing, I sat down on the bottom stair to the upper steps and listened closely.

  “What about all of your plans for the future?” Dad exclaimed.

  “Don’t you mean your plans?” Luke retorted.

  “Don’t be a smart aleck,” Dad spat. “I cannot believe you want to give up baseball for this band of yours. That band isn’t going to get you into college. It isn’t going to earn you a scholarship.”

  “So what?” As upset as Dad sounded, Luke sounded just as angry. “Why are you always on my ass about a scholarship? I never hear you getting on Skylar’s case about playing a sport or earning a scholarship and she’s the one going to college in the fall!”

  “Watch your language!” Dad shouted and I cringed away from the noise. While Dad was always good at making sure everyone knew when he was angry, he usually didn’t shout.

  Since Mom and Dad were always looking to cut costs, I understood that Dad thought of a possible scholarship as a way to save. I couldn’t blame Dad; college was expensive, but Luke also had a point. Skylar sent off college applications back in the fall, and while Dad had griped about the colleges where Skylar applied, he’d never got on her case about the cost. She’d apply for scholarships and financial aid, of course, but she wasn’t badgered constantly the way Luke had been since he started high school.

  “If I thought Skylar had half a chance at getting some kind of scholarship, I’d be on her about it too,” Dad continued. “But they don’t hand out money for face painting!”

  I froze at Dad’s words and glanced back up over my shoulder. I hoped Skylar hadn’t heard. Dad’s words were harsh, even to my ears. I was gobsmacked he’d say such an awful thing. Even though he didn’t understand it, he had no right to discount Skylar’s artistic talent.

  Apparently I wasn’t the only one who thought so. “Theodore Granger!” Mom exclaimed, breaking her apparent silence. “What an awful thing to say.”

  If Dad answered, I couldn’t hear his words. Mom went on. “Theo, I know you’re disappointed, but if Luke doesn’t want to play baseball anymore, I think he’s old enough to make that call.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Dad groused. “His maturity is astounding. What with giving up a future for some useless garage band.”

  “You’ve never even listened to us play!” Luke cried.

  “I’ve heard plenty,” Dad countered. “How could I miss it? You’ve taken over the garage and filled the house with that awful noise.”

  “Theo.” Mom still sounded upset, but her tone was soothing. “I’m sure this is a bit of a shock. I think maybe we all just need to take a step back and calm down.”

  “Don’t mollycoddle me, Leela.” I could just imagine the glare that accompanied the angry tone.

  “Fine,” Mom spat, and this time her anger shone through. “Quit acting like a child, Theo. You don’t have the right to say mean and hurtful things just because you don’t like Luke’s decision. Now, I suggest we all walk away.”

  “Fine, we’ll talk about this more later,” Dad growled.

  “No, Theo,” Mom sighed. “We won’t. Luke’s made his decision. What’s done is done.”

  “But—”

  Mom cut him off. “No buts. It’s done.”

  I waited to see if more was said, but when I heard heavy footsteps stomping down the hallway toward the stairs, I stood quickly and scrambled back up the stairs, hoping to not be caught spying, and fled to my room.

  The days following the news of Luke’s decision to quit baseball were tense at home. It was reminiscent of those first few weeks after Mom went back to work. The atmosphere was chilly, and conversation was often strained. Dinner alone was an uncomfortable affair, and I found myself eating with Tegan’s family more often to avoid the uncomfortable dinners at home.

  As disappointed as I expected Dad to be, I’d never anticipated him being so angry. I still couldn’t believe some of the things he’d said both about Luke’s band and Skylar’s talent. As far as I could tell, Skylar hadn’t heard. Or, if she had, she was putting on a good front of pretending she hadn’t.

  Dad seemed to be of the belief that Mom had betrayed him by siding with Luke, and he barely spoke to Mom or Luke. I kept my mouth shut as much as possible. I didn’t want to be in the crosshairs of Dad’s wrath. Skylar seemed to make herself scarce as well.

  Things at school were easier; filled with excitement and trepidation as we made plans for the night of the concert. We worked out what time we should leave, who would drive, where we’d stop to eat, and finding the best route to get to the venue. Tegan and Mark, oddly, had no problems discussing these plans. As the excitement grew, the more animated the conversation seemed to become.

  On the day of the concert, Tegan rode home with Skylar and I after school. We’d decided to leave by four-thirty, so she and I had a little bit of time to get ready for the concert. It didn’t take us long to change clothes, opting for t-shirts, jeans and zip up hoodies. Despite it being the beginning of March, the weather was still cool. We wore our hair back and had our Chuck Taylor’s sitting by the door, ready to slip on when the guys arrived.

  All of the money I’d saved up over the last few months was stowed away in the black over the shoulder bag Skylar had gifted me one year for my birthday. Even though I hated carrying a purse, I thought it was cute and brought it out on occasion.

  Jackson volunteered to drive, and he and Mark would meet at my house and we’d all leave from there. When Dad found out about my plans, he’d gott
en grouchy, demanding to know why he hadn’t been informed of my plans. When I explained that Mom gave me the okay, his ire only strengthened, but he didn’t try to thwart my plans.

  He wasn’t shy about making it clear that he didn’t like the idea of Jackson driving. “Young kids,” he grumbled. “Always driving like the devil’s chasing them. Going to end up killing someone.”

  I didn’t bother to assure him that Jackson was a good driver. It seemed like a waste of breath. As luck would have it, Jackson did not arrive in his blue Camaro. Instead, he drove an aqua blue Ford Focus. It wasn’t even until he stepped out of the car that Tegan and I realized it was Jackson.

  “Who’s car is that?” I asked, pulling the front door open as I toed on my shoes.

  “Jordan’s,” Jackson grinned widely. “He let me borrow it.”

  I wondered what he’d done to get Jordan to agree but decided it was probably better not to know.

  “Jordan’s the pretty one?” Tegan asked thoughtfully.

  I groaned, face flaming, and hoped Jackson wouldn’t notice. I’d thought it had been implied that Tegan shouldn’t repeat that description of Jackson’s older brother in front of anyone. Ever.

  “Is that how you describe him?” Jackson laughed.

  “Well, he is!” I muttered, shrugging and looking away. My face felt unnaturally hot.

  Jackson wrapped an arm around my shoulder, pulling me close. The humor was written all over his face as he raised an eyebrow. “How do you describe me? As the ugly one?”

  “No.” I stuck my tongue out at him. “You’re the nerdy, bookish artsy one with the gorgeous lips.”

  Jackson’s eyes widened, clearly surprised. “Gorgeous lips, huh?” he smirked and preened a bit. “I guess that beats being the pretty one.” Slyly, he moved his arm down from my shoulder to my waist, encircling me with both arms, and then showered my face with tons of sloppy kisses as he tickled my sides.

  Squealing with laughter, I shoved at him, trying to break free of his strong grasp. Tegan, meanwhile, stood back, watching and laughing. I made a note to self to thank her for her lack of help later.

  When the doorbell rang, Jackson only paused momentarily in his attack. “Carry on,” Tegan said in a striking impersonation of Tim Gunn from Project Runway. “I’ll get the door.”

  At her command, the tickling began again, and I changed the note to self to remind myself to kick Tegan in the shins when she was least expecting it. When Mark stepped into the house, he looked around, startled and confused by my laughter, and asked, “What’s going on?”

  Tegan shrugged, motioning toward Jackson and I. “I think this is what you call a Jack and Spaz attack.”

  “That’s . . . not . . . funny,” I exclaimed through my fit of laughter.

  I kept trying to tug away, but Jackson’s grip was too strong. My chest and sides ached from so much laughter. Realizing I’d never manage to slip of his grasp, I changed tactics. Instead of pulling away, I stepped into Jackson and stomped on his right foot. Immediately, Jackson released me and began hopping around on one foot, groaning and grimacing. “Serves you right,” I admonished, breathlessly.

  Mark cleared his throat. “I hate to break up this . . . strange . . . moment, but shouldn’t we hit the road?”

  Still pouting, Jackson stopped hopping around like a fool and combed his fingers through his already messy hair. “Yeah,” he nodded, “we should probably get going.”

  Curiosity won out as Tegan and I pulled on our hoodies. “How did you get Jordan to let you borrow his car anyway?”

  “I just used my powers of persuasion,” he shrugged. “I’m just awesome like that.”

  “Whatever,” I laughed, grabbing my purse and motioning everyone toward the door. Mark and Tegan walked ahead of us, and Jackson waited while I locked up the house since Skylar had already left for work and Dad hadn’t made it home yet.

  “I just explained to Jordan that I didn’t think my car would be comfortable to ride in for over an hour,” Jackson shrugged as we made our way down the sidewalk. I suspected he was omitting something, but, again, I told myself ignorance was probably bliss. “Just make sure you don’t spill anything in here,” Jackson warned, raising his voice so Mark and Tegan could hear. “Jordan will throw a very unpretty hissy fit and act like I’ve committed all three Unforgivable Curses.”

  “Maybe Silly shouldn’t drink anything in the car then,” Tegan commented meekly.

  I stuck my tongue out at her. “Very funny.”

  Mark and Tegan took the back seat, and I sat up front with Jackson. Somehow I was put in charge of the directions. It made me a little nervous, since I was so directionally challenged, but I figured I couldn’t screw up too much by just reading the instructions aloud. Jackson assured me, before we took off, that he had a pretty good idea where he was going, so he probably wouldn’t need my navigational help.

  I was also in charge of the radio. Jackson had an adaptor, and I’d brought along my iPod, so I hooked it up while Jackson drove us out of town.

  Instead of blasting the bands we’d be hearing in just a few short hours, I turned on Rilo Kiley, who was Tegan’s absolute favorite band. Jackson once claimed she and I seemed to worship them since we always brought them up when we were talking about music. As it turned out, neither Jackson nor Mark had ever actually heard anything by Rilo Kiley aside from “The Frug,” which Oxide had added to their set list. Instead of being insulted, Tegan thrilled at the chance to talk about the band.

  “Jenny Lewis and Blake Sennett were both child actors,” she explained. “Have you ever seen the movie Troop Beverly Hills?”

  The blank stares on both Mark and Jackson’s faces were answer enough.

  “Tee,” I laughed, turning in my seat to look at her. “I think that movie is too much a chick flick for either of them to watch.”

  “True enough.” Tegan considered a moment. “Well, Jenny was also in Pleasantville.”

  Jackson was familiar with that film. “Oh yeah? Who’d she play?”

  “She was one of the Jennifer’s in the beginning before they get sucked into Pleasantville.”

  That didn’t seem to help. Jackson and Mark still looked clueless, but Mark said, “That’s cool. You’ll have to point her out in the movie sometime.”

  Kudos to Mark, I thought. I was pretty sure he’d just earned a few brownie points with Tegan just by showing interest. I couldn’t tell if Jackson cared about this stuff or not, but he seemed amused at how quickly Tegan spoke when she was rattling off Rilo Kiley facts.

  “Jenny also did a solo album with The Watson Twins,” Tegan went on. “She also used to date Blake Sennett, who also sings and plays guitar for Rilo Kiley. He’s also in the band The Elected, who are also very good.”

  “And Blake is also an actor,” I added.

  “What was he in?” Jackson asked, looking to me. “Anything I’d know?”

  “Have you ever seen Salute Your Shorts on Nickelodeon?”

  Jackson’s brows drew together as he thought. “Sounds kind of familiar,” he nodded, but Mark looked uncertain.

  “He played Pinsky on that show,” Tegan commented. “But you’d probably remember him best from Boy Meets World. He was Joey the Rat.”

  “The bully?” Mark inquired.

  Go figure, I thought. Of course he’d remember something like that.

  “Yeah,” Tegan nodded enthusiastically.

  For as long as I could remember, I’d always lacked any sense of coordination. With no grace and little rhythm, dancing usually only occurred in the comfort of my bedroom. Usually, I was alone. Occasionally, Tegan and Tierney were able to talk me into dancing a little jig when I stayed overnight. Needless to say, since I lacked the same poise my best friend had been blessed with naturally, the idea of dancing in public never occurred to me.

  That, however, flew right out the window along with Tegan’s usual demure behavior. As soon as the concert began, Tegan grabbed my hands and all but forced me to move to the heavy be
ats of Three Days Grace’s music. Thankfully, graceful movement wasn’t necessary. The music was much too aggressive for that.

  Even Mark and Jackson got into it and were coerced into jumping around with Tegan and I. The music itself was excellent. It felt like the set list was made just for me. While I was big fan of all three bands, Tegan was mostly a fan Nickelback, who was headlining the tour.

  When Nickelback went on stage, Tegan lit up, and all her reservations about Mark seemed to vanish. As soon as they began to play “Animals,” Tegan started dancing around Mark, singing the song word for word, and by the time they transitioned into “Woke Up This Morning,” she had Mark dancing around with her.

  The smile on Mark’s face was so bright; if needed, he could have lit up the entire venue on joy alone. I had no idea where their relationship might go, but, even if romance wasn’t in the cards for them, I was certain their friendship was already stronger.

  Jackson and I also had a great time. Whenever a slower song played, Jackson would stand behind me and wrap his arms around me. We’d sway to the music, and sometimes his lips would find mine. That, more than the dancing, made me uncomfortable. I found I wasn’t at all an exhibitionist. Public displays of affection felt awkward even if no one was looking at us.

  The only pitfall of the whole concert experience came afterward. The decent weather we’d had before we went into the venue was long gone by the time we walked out later that night. Instead, we stepped out into a brewing storm. The air was chilled, thunder boomed in the distance and lightning lit the night sky. Then, as we were walking back to the parking garage, the sky opened up and the rain poured down.

  We were a good two blocks away, and by the time we made it to the car, we were all drenched from head to toe. Soaked to the bone, Tegan and I were shivering messes with uncontrollably chattering teeth. Jackson and Mark put on a good show of being tough, but I saw the goosebumps on Jackson’s arms as he dug a couple of blankets out of the trunk.

  In the backseat, with Mark’s arm around Tegan, they huddled together under one blanket while Jackson bundled me in the other and cranked up the heat. With the heat on full blast, Jackson drove us toward home, but I was asleep within minutes of leaving Rosemont.

 

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