Infinite (Strange and Beautiful, Book 1) (39 page)

BOOK: Infinite (Strange and Beautiful, Book 1)
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“Yeah,
I bet you don’t,” I said, bitterly. “Ya know, I thought you were a really nice,
honest guy when I first met you, and I, stupidly, thought we were friends.”

“We
are
friends,” Jackson said. The anger was back and his words sounded
harsh and distinctly unfriendly. “At least we were. I don’t know anymore
because I really have no idea what your deal is.”

“My
deal
, as you put it, is I don’t like being used,” I answered. I couldn’t
adopt the same angry, harsh tone as Jackson, but it felt as if bitterness dripped
from my every word. “I don’t like when people with ulterior motives befriend me
and turn around and shove me to the side as soon as they get what they want.”

“What
the hell are you talking about?” Jackson stood, throwing his hands up in
obvious exasperation. “Being used? I don’t know what you mean! And
what
ulterior motive? Can you just give me a straight answer, please? Because I am
so fucking lost right now.”

 “You
want a straight answer?” I laughed, sarcastically. “Here’s your answer:
Skylar.” My sister’s name came out sounding like a curse word.

“What
about her?”

I
shook my head, annoyed. I couldn’t believe Jackson still didn’t understand.
“You used me to get to her. I thought you were
my
friend, but you just
wanted to get closer to my sister.”

For
a moment, Jackson simply stared at me, looking as if I’d grown a second head.
Then he started to shake his head, as if he couldn’t comprehend what I’d just
said. “You are so wrong, Silly.” The severity had left his voice and he spoke
softly, as if the wind had been knocked out of him. “So wrong. I can’t believe
you’d even think that.”

“You
sure haven’t given me a reason not to.”

We
stared at each other, as if in a stand off, but before either of us could say
anymore, Skylar appeared at my doorway.

“There
you are,” she said, smiling at Jackson. “I thought you might have got lost or
something. You ready to finish the movie?”

Jackson
continued to stare at me as Skylar spoke. He didn’t immediately answer, but
after a moment, he tore his eyes from me and glanced at Skylar before his
confused eyes fell back on me. He looked as if he was trying to solve a puzzle
but there was a missing piece. Finally, he said, looking away from me, “I’m
sorry. I have to go.”

“What?”
Skylar pouted, looking at him as he stepped around her.

He
didn’t answer her. Instead, Jackson gave me one last fleeting look before he
shook his head and walked out.

Skylar
poked her head out into the hallway, calling after Jackson, but when the front
door slammed shut a few seconds later, she moved back into my room and glared
at me. “What did you do?” she demanded. “What did you say to make him leave?”

Any
other time her anger and dismay might have been intimidating enough to make me
answer, but not today.

“Skylar,”
I said calmly, “get the hell out of my room and fuck off.”

 

 

Friday,
December 8
th
, 2006

 

Dark
and dreary,

inside
and out

Hollow,
yet heavy,

my
heart feels doubt.

Broken
and mended,

destroyed
must be my style.

Hopeless
and tired,

I’ve
already walked a thousand miles.

 

I’ve walked
for so long

just to
seek you out.

But
when I got there,

I found
all we had,

shrouded
in nothing but doubt.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Most of
my life I’d been too afraid to really stand up to my sister. Of course we often
had little squabbles that involved bickering back and forth, but Skylar
generally won simply because she was older, stronger and just plain meaner.
Finally standing up to Skylar was my moment of liberation. I knew something in
me had changed, whether I liked it or not, when I was able to tell my sister
off without worrying about the repercussions.  I realized I was no longer
afraid of my sister.

My
fear was never about physical harm. Skylar was very good at getting her way, so
it always felt like she had the upper hand. Luke had called her a weasel in the
past because she was able to talk herself out of sticky situations on various
occasions. Most of the time it was easier for me to just let her have her way
than try to outsmart her or deal with another stupid fight.

However,
my confrontation with Jackson, though unpleasant and unintended, had caused
something in me to snap. Most people probably wouldn’t consider telling their
sister to “fuck off” to be a big deal, but it was cathartic for me. It was the
first time I’d ever said anything like that to her, and she was so gobsmacked
she wasn’t able to reply with one of her witty comebacks. Instead, she’d only
shot me a dirty look and stomped off.

It
wasn’t until later, after I’d talked to Tegan, that I really had a chance to
absorb what happened with Jackson. Everything happened so fast, and at first
I’d felt relieved. I no longer had to carry around the anxiety and hurt. Of
course, I would have preferred for things to happen in a less hostile manner. I
realized I should have just stepped up and stopped moping and called him and
talked things through with him instead of letting my anger build and forcing
Jackson to confront me about my behavior. Instead, I’d kept my feelings bottled
up until I just blew up and started stupidly spouting off.

As
the days after our confrontation passed, though, I began to feel guilty.
Jackson had looked so hurt when I accused him of using me. I’d taken my
suspicions and insecurities and threw them in his face because I was angry and
ignored his denials. As my guilt built, the melancholy that had receded due to
my feelings of liberation resurfaced.

“It’s
not as though some good didn’t come out of all this, though,” Tegan reminded me
about a week after the argument with Jackson. “You finally stood up to Skylar,
and Jackson has left her hanging.”

I
couldn’t argue her point. Even though I was a little nervous that Skylar might
try to retaliate against me in some way, I couldn’t help but smile when I
thought of telling her off.  Besides, I wasn’t sure what she could do to get
back at me anyway. Public humiliation was out. I could just act spastic and
tell everyone I was her little sister to embarrass her in return.

Also,
I could pull out the big guns. I could tell Mom and Dad. Even though I often
felt overlooked, being the baby of the family sometimes came in handy. When my
brother or sister thought they could get away with picking on me, I could still
tattle on them to our parents to get them in trouble. It wasn’t something I did
often. It had been years, in fact, since I’d resorted to such juvenile
measures, but I wasn’t afraid to do it if it was really necessary.

“Don’t
worry about Skylar,” Tegan assured me. “She’ll get over it, and everything will
be fine.”

“I
hope so.” I was still a little paranoid. Skylar and I weren’t on speaking
terms, and I was riding to school with Luke every morning and after school when
I didn’t get a ride home with Tierney and Tegan. I wasn’t sure how angry she
was over the incident. She masked it pretty well when our parents were around to
avoid any questions, but we still exchanged heated glares from time to time.

Tegan’s
optimism that everything would work out extended to Jackson as well. In my
mind, I thought Skylar and I had a better chance of patching things up than
Jackson and I. I hated fighting with anyone, but especially my friends, and I
knew I’d really upset Jackson. In the moment I’d felt vindicated, but in the
time since I’d started to see things a bit clearer. If I were Jackson I’d
probably hate me and never want to speak to me again. I hoped he was a better
person than me, but as the second week passed with no word from him, my hopes
started to diminish.

I
considered sucking it up and apologizing, but I was having trouble working up
the nerve to do so. I didn’t even know how or where to begin because “I’m
sorry” sounded so ridiculously feeble.

Tegan
decided she wasn’t going to allow me to mope around about it anymore, so the
Saturday after the second week of silence between Jackson and I she showed up
at my house bright and early.

I
was still lying in bed in my pajamas, rereading
Just Listen
by Sarah
Dessen, when she came into my room and without so much as a greeting demanded,
“Get dressed. We’re going Christmas shopping. My mom’s waiting in the car to
drop us off.”

It
seemed impossible Christmas was only a little over a week away. I hadn’t even
started my Christmas shopping, so with only slight reluctance I climbed out of
bed and said, “Give me ten minutes to get ready.”

“I’m
timing you!” she warned.

I
felt guilty asking Mom for shopping money because it meant she was basically
paying for her own Christmas present. It didn’t do much to brighten my mood,
but, hopefully, next year I’d have a job and my own shopping money.

Within
thirty minutes of Tegan showing up at my house, Trista was dropping us off at
the front entrance of the mall. While I wasn’t a huge fan of shopping, in
general, I did enjoy Christmas shopping. Obviously, I wasn’t a big spender, but
I liked to buy sentimental gifts or something that made me think of the person
I was buying for.

“Going
to get Skylar a broom and witch’s hat?” Tegan teased.

I
laughed and shook my head. “No, I really don’t want there to be a huge brawl on
Christmas morning.”

Tegan
pouted a bit but shrugged. “Fine, where should we start?”

I
hadn’t given gifts much thought this year since my mind was elsewhere. I knew I
had to find some kind of trinket for Mom. I’d bought her one each year for as
long as I could remember, and she always fussed and cooed over them as if I’d
made them myself. Even though I hated to admit it, it always made me feel warm
and fuzzy inside because it reconfirmed that I’d picked just the right gift for
her.

Dad
was always a tough one. He was so practical, and his interests didn’t extend
far beyond golf and the newspaper. He already had a subscription to the
newspaper, obviously, so that was out. One year I considered buying him toilet
paper and a box of Kleenex. They were both sensible items I was sure he would
put to good use.

The
one time I tried to buy Dad clothes was a disaster. The plain deep blue polo
was just his style, plain and boring, but I got a size too small, so he had to
exchange it. He wasn’t pleased about standing in the customer service lines.  I
decided after that there would be no more gifting clothing to Dad unless it was
socks.

Usually,
Luke and Skylar were the easiest to shop for, but considering I was angry with
my sister, I suspected shopping for her was going to be a hassle.  Tegan wasn’t
too far off the mark with the witch costume. I thought a lump of coal would be
fitting for her. I knew they had candy coal, but I reminded myself of my
previous statement about not wanting a fight on Christmas.

It
seemed there was some stupid unwritten or unspoken law somewhere that said
siblings must love each other no matter how much they dislike one another.
Because of that, I knew I’d have to buy something decent for Skylar, whether
she deserved it or not.

Luke,
however, looked like he was going to be the easiest to shop for. It didn’t hurt
that my regard for him was much more pleasant than usual. He’d been nicer to me
lately and made me feel like less of a spaz. I wasn’t quite sure, but I thought
maybe we were bonding. I didn’t want to press my luck and ask, so I was just
going with it. In any event, I knew without thinking much about it that I
should buy him a CD.

“Tanner
would probably like some CDs, too,” Tegan commented.

We
headed for Sam Goody, weaving our way through the early morning crowds. It
seemed we weren’t the only ones on a mission to buy Christmas gifts. 

As
we made our way into the music store, Tegan commented, “I think Tierney
mentioned they were closing this store after the holidays.”

“Really?
What are we going to do for music then?” I glanced around, expecting to see a
sign mentioning its upcoming closing, but there didn’t seem to be one. The
store looked the same as usual with aisles of bins with CDs and posters on the
wall.

“Maybe
they’ll put another music store in.”

“I
hope so,” I commented as I followed Tegan over to one of the displays. “I
seriously doubt people will have much luck finding Ashlee Simpson’s music in
Hot Topic.”

“Who
would want an Ashlee Simpson CD anyway?” Rather than being snide, Tegan
actually looked thoughtful and confused.

“I
don’t know,” I shrugged, motioning toward the display. “I was just using that
as an example because it was the first CD I saw.”

“Likely
story,” Tegan smirked. “But I must admit Ashlee looks so much better since the
nose job.”

“Lips
too,” I nodded, browsing through the CDs to see if anything interesting jumped
out at me.

  “I
just hope she doesn’t get anything else done,” Tegan commented, thumbing
through some CDs. “Some people go way overboard. Look at Michael Jackson and
Joan Rivers.”

“I’d
really rather not,” I shuddered. “Although I might have considered getting a
boob job if I hadn’t gotten mine.”

“Your
parents wouldn’t let you get a boob job,” Tegan laughed.

I
grinned. “You’re probably right. My dad would likely say boobs are unnecessary
or something like that.”

“I
bet if your mom was boobless that would change his mind,” Tegan snickered.

I
scrunched up my nose in revulsion. “Ew, Tegan, I don’t want to think about
stuff like that.”

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