Infinite (Strange and Beautiful, Book 1) (27 page)

While
Tierney and Mandy went to order the pizzas, Tegan and I decided to pick some
songs to play on the jukebox. They probably wouldn’t play right away, but
they’d come up eventually.

Even
though they hadn’t bothered me too much throughout the day, my hands were
starting to feel a little sore. Thankfully, I’d been able to get by with just a
few band-aids to cover the worst of the scrapes, and either no one had noticed
or dared to ask me about my injuries.

After
choosing our songs, we went into the ladies room. While Tegan was in one of the
stalls, I used the brush in her purse to remove the tangles from my hair and
redo my ponytail.

“I
look like crap,” I announced after my hair was fixed.

“Shut
up, you do not,” Tegan replied as she came out of her stall. She walked over to
the sink and washed her hands. “You look cute.”

“No,
I don’t,” I said, inspecting my eyes. They were still a little red from all of
yesterday’s tears, and my restless night of sleep had left small bruise-like
circles under each eye. “I look like I’m in the ending stages of recovering
from two black eyes.”

“Did
you get any sleep last night?”

“Some,”
I shrugged. “I woke up a lot through the night. I even got up at one point and
tried writing.”

“Have
you talked to your parents yet?” she asked.

I
didn’t have to ask what she was talking about. I already knew. “No, I haven’t
had a chance.”

Tegan
gave me her “this is something you have to do and can’t back out of it” look. I
hated that look. Mom gave me that look every time I had a dentist appointment.

“I’ll
talk to them tomorrow,” I sighed. Tegan opened her mouth to speak, but I beat
her to it. “I promise, Tee.  I don’t need a lecture. This night has turned out
bad enough.”

“It
hasn’t been
that
bad,” Tegan said. “And since when did you become such a
pessimist?”

“Since
Skylar swooped in and set her sights on Jackson,” I replied huffily.

“I
don’t like you like this,” Tegan announced.

“Neither
do I,” I frowned. “The last couple of days have just really sucked. I wish
Skylar hadn’t come tonight. I feel like she’s ruining everything. I haven’t
been able to get a word in edgewise with her here. Jackson and I have hardly
talked at all.”

Tegan
started to open her mouth to speak, but the door to the last stall opened at
that moment, and, because my luck was shot to shit, Skylar stepped out.

“Oh
god,” Tegan muttered as Skylar sauntered—because she couldn’t just walk
anywhere—over to the sinks.

“So,
I’ve ruined everything, huh?” She smirked as she washed her hands. “Seriously,
Silly, if you thought you had a chance with Jackson Hart, then you were sorely
mistaken. Did you really think he was hanging out with you because he liked
you?”

“What
is that supposed to mean?” I wondered aloud.

“Think
about it, Sil,” Skylar said as she grabbed some paper towel and dried her
hands. “He’s, obviously, been nice to you and hanging around you to get to me.
Sorry.” She threw the paper towel into the trash on her way out, and I stared
at the door after her.

I
shook my head and felt like I was going to collapse into a sobbing mess all
over again today. Skylar’s words felt like a slap in the face.

Jackson
was only hanging out with me to get closer to her? Why would he do that? I knew
I had no chance with him on a romantic level, but I thought we were really
becoming friends. The hurt I felt in my chest came from the knowledge that it
was more believable Jackson’s only interest in me came from a desire to get
closer to Skylar. I didn’t want to believe it, but why would he care about me
when he could have her?

Tegan
moved up behind me and wrapped her arms around me in an awkward hug. “Don’t
listen to her,” she whispered. “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

My
eyes burned as tears pooled, and when I blinked, they slid heavily down my
cheeks. I leaned into Tegan’s embrace, taking the comfort she so freely
offered. She was exactly what I needed right then.

If
I could have spoken, I would have told her how much I loved her and appreciated
her. She seemed to be taking over the optimistic role in our friendship, and I
loved her for that. She had to be the best friend in the world, which made me
the luckiest person in the world because she was
my
best friend; the
saving grace John Mayer had sung about in “Not Myself.”

While
there were times when I’d forget to do something and wouldn’t get it done until
the last minute, I usually didn’t consider myself a procrastinator. Of course,
that didn’t mean I went out of my way to get things done super early like some
overachievers, but I did usually like to be done a little bit ahead of time.
After all, people were always saying, “Why put off until tomorrow what you
could do today?” Well, when Sunday rolled around and I returned home from
Tegan’s house, I understood why some people were procrastinators.

I
was still upset about the way things turned out with the bowling excursion, and
the last thing I wanted was to go home and see Skylar. I hadn’t spoken to her
after we started our second round of bowling. I didn’t think she noticed,
though. She was too busy flashing her pearly whites at Jackson and bending over
to show everyone her cleavage. I couldn’t compete with that, and, to top it all
off, Jackson and I didn’t talk much either because the second game of bowling
consisted of a lot of smack talk from the guys as they fought to claim victory.

Tegan
spent most of the night, later at her house, trying to convince me Skylar was
wrong. She even had Tierney trying to help, but it wasn’t much use. I finally
just humored them.

“You
know what? You guys are probably right,” I said before giving them some speech
about how Skylar had no idea what she was talking about because Jackson was my
friend and had no interest in her. I capped it off with claims that I was perfectly
fine. I figured if I kept telling myself that maybe I would actually start to
believe it.

I
wasn’t sure either Tegan or Tierney really bought it, but they seemed to
understand that I didn’t want to discuss it any further.

Tegan,
apparently, hadn’t told Tierney about the incident with Mark Moses, though,
because she waited until the next morning to make me promise to tell my parents
about what happened at school on Friday. It was the first time I ever wanted to
break a promise.

Luckily,
when I got home, Skylar was gone. I assumed she’d gone to Stevie’s—probably to
gloat about how much cleavage she’d flashed last night. I secretly hoped that
she’d stay gone forever.

I
didn’t know if she was intentionally trying to hurt my feelings when she said
Jackson was only hanging out with me to get closer to her, but, regardless of
her intent, it really stung. It wasn’t as if she needed to remind me how much
better she was than me. I was well aware. She was prettier and definitely more
popular. She was also strong and outgoing and not scared to go after what she
wanted.

I
wasn’t any of those things. As far as looks went, I considered myself pretty
average. Girls like me were a dime a dozen. Nothing about me stood out that
much. I didn’t have brilliant blue eyes or lush lips like Skylar or long wavy
hair like Tegan or Tierney. My hair was plain and straight, and my lips were
thin and usually in dire need of lip balm, and my sister had curves that seemed
to be in all the right places which made what I had pretty meager in
comparison.

Skylar
also had friends galore. Even though she might have looked like a Goth rocker,
she could mingle with anyone she wanted. They all knew her, and if they didn’t
like her, they at least accepted her.  She didn’t have to try very hard to
catch any guy’s attention. I didn’t even register on any guy’s radar—except for
Jackson, but when Skylar was around, it felt like I just melted into the
surroundings.

I
only wished I had her initiative and could say what I felt like saying or do
whatever I wanted whenever I wanted. I could talk to people, but when I spoke,
hardly anyone ever listened anyway. Even in my own household. Their response
was usually along the lines of, “What’s Silly on about now?” I was just the
weird, misfit child that everyone in my family just wanted to be quiet.

I’d
always felt that way, but I usually didn’t let it bother me. I always tried to
think positively. I liked to look forward to the future and not worry about
what other people thought of me, but sometimes it was just too hard—especially
when I felt like I had nothing but doors slamming in my face as everything in
my life went to hell.

I
knew Tegan would say I was just acting all emo about it, and she was probably
right. I was probably just overreacting because I was still upset about the
incident with Mark Moses, but I didn’t feel like trying to make the best of the
situation. Instead, I felt like locking myself in my room, listening to Bright
Eyes and writing angst-filled, depressing poetry about death and self-loathing.

However,
I chose not to go to that extreme. Instead when I got home from Tegan’s, I
parked myself on the couch and watched a
Degrassi
marathon on The-N
until my eyes glazed over and I passed out.

When
I woke up, Luke was sitting in the recliner with the remote in his hand, but
Degrassi
was still on. If I had been in a better mood, I would have laughed at the
fact he actually seemed interested in the drama of a group of high school
students. I could definitely see the appeal. They had more drama going on at
Degrassi than everyone I’d ever met combined, but watching fictional drama sure
beat dealing with my own real life problems.

I
lay there on the couch for a while watching the show. After a while, I realized
that as much as I wanted to continue to lie on the couch or disappear off the
face of the earth, it wasn’t going to happen, and I had homework to finish.

I
pulled myself away from the couch, and when Luke realized I was awake, he
changed the station.

“You
might as well finish watching the episode,” I muttered.

“I
wasn’t watching that shit,” he glared.

“Luke,
I’ve been awake for like fifteen minutes,” I said, rolling my eyes. “You were
watching it.”

He
looked like he wanted to counter with a childish, “Was not.” Instead, he glared
at the television and combed a hand through his light brown hair. “Don’t tell
anyone.”

“No
one I know is going to give a shit,” I retorted. And it was so true. My
brother’s television watching habits might have amused me—and probably
Tegan—but I didn’t know any of Luke’s friends, and I couldn’t be bothered with
trying to embarrass him. I had better things to do.

His
eyebrows shot straight up. “Better not let Mom or Dad hear you talking like
that,” he cautioned.

“Whatever,”
I mumbled as I left the room.

Upstairs
in my room, I took out my books and sat down at my desk to start my homework.
Unfortunately, that didn’t work out so well.

At
first it was too quiet, so I turned on the radio. Then it was too loud and I
couldn’t concentrate, so I turned it off. No matter what I tried, I just
couldn’t seem to focus. It was a battle just to get through my Algebra
homework. I knew I did a really crappy job and probably got half of the answers
wrong, which was a shame because I was usually fairly good at math.

When
I tried my luck with my English Composition assignment, it felt like I was
running into a brick wall. I was supposed to write a short story, but I had no
ideas. None of my words seemed to flow together the right way. The characters
were all wrong, and the dialogue sucked. Everything just came out sounding
terrible.

My
floor was littered with wadded up paper after an hour. That was when I dug
through my bag and looked through the short stories I’d written on my own. I
thought I could just use one of them. I didn’t think they were great, and I
normally didn’t show those writings to other people, but I was at the end of my
rope. I finally decided to turn in my story about an eccentric girl who fell in
love with a boy who was out of her league. It may or may not have been based on
real life events.

I
didn’t even bother to reread the story. I only had to turn in the rough draft,
and I was grateful for that because I didn’t think I could stand to sit at my
desk for another minute. I stood up and stretched. My stomach growled, but I
didn’t want to go back downstairs. I knew I was bound to run into one of my
parents, which would give me the opportunity to talk to them about Mark Moses,
and, even though I’d promised Tegan, I really didn’t want to do it.

I
knew, however, it had to be done. It just wasn’t right. I couldn’t let Mark
Moses keep bullying me. Before Friday, I was just worried about him taking my
money, but after being stuffed into a locker, I was scared of him. If Tegan
hadn’t been there, I wasn’t sure what he would have done. I didn’t want there
to be a next time because I was scared, if there were another episode, he would
really hurt me.

At
the same time I knew it would only make Mark Moses that much madder if I talked
to my parents and they went to the school to talk to the principal or someone.
He was bound to get into trouble, and I would be to blame. What would he do
then? I’d probably end up in the hospital. Or worse. Dead. I’d never been so
scared of someone in my entire life. I used to get scared when Dad would yell about
something, but that was nothing compared to Mark Moses’ presence. He didn’t
even have to speak in order for my heart to start racing and my hands to shake.

As
much as I wanted to crawl into my bed and never wake up, I knew it wasn’t
likely to happen, so I had to face the facts. I was going to school the next
day where Mark Moses was bound to be; unless, of course, he decided to ditch.
Due to recent events it was quite clear that things seldom went the way I
hoped. With no optimism in sight, my only option was to talk to my parents and
hopefully get some help and advice from them.