Infinite (Strange and Beautiful, Book 1) (72 page)

“Sure,”
I nodded, surprised that she’d bothered to ask. She stepped into the room as I
continued buttoning up my blouse.

“That’s
a nice shirt,” she commented as she came to sit on my bed. “Is it new?”

“I
got it with my Christmas money a few weeks ago,” I replied, buttoning the last
button and smoothing it down. “Did you want to talk to me about something?”

“I
just wanted to check up on you, really,” she smiled. “Is everything okay?”

I
shrugged. “Sure, I guess.” I couldn’t think of any one particular thing that
was wrong besides my own natural clumsiness, but I was mostly used to that.

“I
haven’t had a chance to ask you before now,” she began. “What are your thoughts
about the baby?”

I
glanced over at her to find her staring at me contently as she waited for an
answer.

I
bit my lip, as I tried to assemble my thoughts and consider my words. I hadn’t
made a whole lot of headway in sorting out my feelings thus far.

“Well,
I guess, honestly, I’m mostly weirded out by the whole thing,” I finally
answered.

“Are
you upset by the idea of it?” she asked.

“No,
not upset.” I shrugged, thinking again. “Just uncertain, I guess,” I admitted.
“I mean, I really didn’t expect you and Dad to have anymore kids after me, or
at least if you were going to, I thought it would have been a lot sooner.”

“Well,
I think it’s obvious this wasn’t something we planned,” Mom smiled meekly.

“But
you’re happy, right?”

“Of
course,” she nodded, and I could see both joy and uncertainty her in sage eyes.
“I just don’t want you, Luke, or Sky to think that this is going to make us
love you any less.”

I
rolled my eyes. “I know that, Mom.”

“I
just wanted to make sure,” she smiled. “It may seem obvious, but sometimes it
doesn’t hurt to say it anyway.”

She
had a good point, I realized.

“You
know,” I commented. “Just because I think it’s weird you’re having another baby
it doesn’t mean I’m not happy. I think it will be okay.” I nodded to myself as
I came to this realization. “I think it may even be good. For all of us.”

“Yeah,”
she smiled. “I think so too. She stood and crossed the room, pulling me into a
warm embrace. “No matter what, Cecilia, you’ll still be my baby.”

I
groaned playfully. “Really?  I was sort of hoping maybe the new baby would take
the focus off of me.” I pursed my lips and then laughed with a shrug. “Oh
well.”

“Come
on, you.” She pinched my cheek. “We better get downstairs before your brother
or sister leave without you.”

School
was school. It seemed the teachers all must have had terrible vacations because
they returned to school acting like slave drivers as they doled out the
homework. I had so much homework by lunchtime on Monday it felt like I wouldn’t
sleep again until Friday.

The
only good that came of going back to school was seeing Tegan. She was bright
eyed after sleeping the majority of the previous day. She was also sporting a
very healthy tan, which left me feeling pale and jealous. She also came bearing
presents for Mark and I. I received a pretty dolphin figurine made of blue sand
while Mark was gifted a seashell necklace.

Mark
seemed more thrilled by the fact that Tegan thought of him while she was on
vacation than for the actual gift itself. They were still elusive about the
status of their relationship, but he walked her to a couple of classes and even
carried her books.

“It
won’t be long now until he asks her if she wants to go to the sock hop,”
Jackson joked.

“Oh,
hush.” I elbowed him in the side. “I think it’s cute.”

“Want
me to carry your books?” he offered.

“No.”
I glared at him. “I wouldn’t want you to strain yourself.”

“How
about the sock hop?” I kicked him in the shin.

“Ouch!”
he exclaimed.

I
stomped off and he called after me. “I guess you don’t want to get a soda pop
after school either?”

I
considered flipping him the bird, but I didn’t want to risk getting in trouble,
so I just ignored him as I made my way to my next class.

The
rest of the week was spent getting back into the school routine. Oxide was
practicing as much as they could. Luke seemed disappointed in the loss of the
morning and afternoon practices while the others seemed relieved to get a
break. Still, they all seemed nervous about the talent show, and when
Friday—the day of the show—arrived, he was a complete wreck all day.

The
band came over after school to pack their instruments into the various
vehicles. Jackson and Tegan came over to help, and we all wore our Oxide
t-shirts to show our support of the band. By the time Mom and Dad came home
from work, we were all packed up and ready to roll.

Even
Mom and Dad wore their Oxide shirts. Dad looked a bit strange in a baseball
style shirt. His discomfort showed, but he didn’t complain once. He even
offered to take everyone out for dinner before the show, so we piled into the
cars and headed to Wendy’s.

I
didn’t miss the grimace on Dad’s face when he footed the bill, but Mom beamed
as we took up an entire section of the joint. Everyone was surprisingly quiet.
I found Luke’s nervousness surprising and odd since he was so popular and used
to performing in front of large crowds; albeit, sports were quite a bit
different from this new musical venture.

After
everyone finished eating, we piled back into our designated vehicles and headed
to the community center. The band had to check in and set things up before
people started to arrive. I tried to help at first, but since I knew next to
nothing about what went where, I just decided to stay out of the way.

Skylar,
Tegan, Jackson, and I hung around backstage with the band until people started
to show up in the audience. Then we headed out to sit with my parents, who had
saved seats for us. As we waited for the show to begin, I began to feel just as
nervous as Luke. I wanted the band to do well. I wasn’t sure what would happen
if they didn’t. I didn’t think it would be the end of Oxide, but it would
certainly be a hit to their sense of morale.

Dad
might not be too heartbroken if they blew it, but I couldn’t see any good
coming from that since baseball was off the table since the season was already
beginning. I hoped in his own way—even if he didn’t understand Luke’s obsession
with the band—that Dad wanted them to do well. He’d always been of the mindset
that once you put your mind to doing something you should follow through.

It
wasn’t a mindset I was particularly fond of except in theory. When I was
younger, I asked my parents if I could play soccer. I was all ready and raring
to go; at least until I started to play. I was absolutely wretched and hated
every second of it. I was clumsy and always wound up missing the ball or
tripping over something. My teammates hated me because I never did anything but
screw things up. To top it all off, I’d come home bruised and bawling, begging
to quit. Dad refused, citing that quitting never paid off. I hated him in those
moments, but I stuck it out until the end of the season. I never asked to play
another sport ever again.

When
the show finally began, butterflies filled my stomach. I held on tightly to
Jackson’s hand to keep from fidgeting. I hardly even registered the other
people in the talent show; I was too distracted to care. Jackson kept rubbing
the back of my hand with his thumb, as if to calm me. It was soothing, but it
didn’t completely eliminate my unease.

Finally,
he leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Relax, Sil. They’re going to do fine.”

I
took a deep breath and nodded.

He
smiled before giving me a peck on the lips. I smiled back when he pulled away.
Apparently, he took that as a sign it was okay to lean in and kiss me on the
neck.

I
glanced over my shoulder at my parents, but they were both watching the person
on stage. I vaguely noted that it was a girl singing—a horrible rendition—of “Hero”
by Mariah Carey. I turned back to Jackson, who leaned in for another kiss, but
I turned my head, pushing at his shoulder lightly. “Jackson,” I warned through
clenched teeth, “my parents.”

He
leaned back, staring into my eyes. “What about them?”

“I
don’t think they want to watch you give me a hickey.” I kept my voice low so
that only he could hear, but still my face flooded with heat.

“Fine.”
He sat back in his seat, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest,
while I sighed, turning my attention back to the stage. There were clowns doing
tricks. I peeked at Tegan and could tell she wasn’t enjoying it. That came as
no surprise; she’d been afraid of clowns since we watched
It
when we
were younger
.
I found them creepy, too, but they usually didn’t bother
me that much.

When
they finished, everyone began clapping. I noted Tegan’s claps were hard and
slow, seemingly a show of relief rather than support. Next, another band
played. They performed a country song I wasn’t familiar with, but it sounded
pretty good to me, regardless. They had several people standing up, clapping
and singing along.

Halfway
through the song, my attention was drawn away by Jackson’s hand on my knee. I
glanced at him, but his eyes were on the stage. I didn’t think much of it until
he moved his hand from my knee further up my leg. Even though I logically knew
he wasn’t doing anything inappropriate, I still felt uncomfortable.

I
wasn’t used to public displays of affection. I always found other people’s PDA
to be rather disrespectful. Also, I wasn’t sure exactly what had gotten into
Jackson because he normally wasn’t so touchy-feely when we were in public.

I
tried to ignore his hand at first, but when his fingers rubbed along the inseam
of my upper thigh, I couldn’t take it anymore. I pushed his hand away, rougher
than was probably necessary, and I couldn’t help but feel relieved as soon as
the contact was gone. When Jackson touched my arm, I pushed it away and scooted
as far to the right of my seat as I could.

I
peeked at him out of the corner of my eye and his face was drawn into a
confused frown. When his eye caught mine, I could see the hurt and annoyance
beneath. “What’s wrong?” he whispered.

“Nothing.”
I crossed my legs as the band on stage finished their song. The audience
clapped; some people even whistled and cheered. I kept my eyes on the stage as
the band began to clear off, unable to meet Jackson’s eyes, as Oxide began to
move their stuff onto the stage. The drums and keyboard were set up on boards
with wheels on the bottom, so they could quickly be rolled onto the stage.

When
Jackson tried to take my hand while Oxide set up, I pulled away and moved my
hands to my lap. I could feel Jackson’s eyes on me, but I couldn’t bring myself
to look at him. I couldn’t understand what was going on with him; why now, of
all times, with my parents only a few seats away, had he tried to hold my hand,
kiss my neck and put his hand on my knee? I just wanted to watch the talent
show in peace without worrying about Dad noticing Jackson’s antics. If he did,
I was certain Jackson would never be able to use his hands again. Ever.

He
whispered my name a few times, trying to draw my attention. I ignored him at
first, but when he nudged me in the side, I finally glanced at him. “Stop it,”
I hissed.

He
frowned, opening his mouth to speak, but the lady who had introduced all of the
acts interrupted him as she introduced Oxide. I turned back to the stage,
nervous and excited, as Mark counted off the beat before they launched into
playing “Pressure” by Paramore.

The
music sounded great and when Stevie came in on vocals, she sounded amazing. Her
voice was clear and full of just the right amount of emotion. Skylar whistled,
jumping out of her seat and clapping along. Tegan grabbed my elbow, as she
stood to do the same, and drew me up with her. We clapped and sang as the band
played on.

My
confusion and annoyance with Jackson was temporarily forgotten until I glanced
his way. He was slouched down in his seat with his arms crossed. The scowl on
his face seemed entirely wrong, but I just rolled my eyes, deciding I wouldn’t
let whatever his problem was drag me out of the moment.

The
song seemed to end much too quickly, but the band had sounded even more amazing
than when they practiced in the garage. The crowd seemed to energize them, and
I was thrilled that their first performance had gone so well. When they
finished, Tegan, Skylar, and I screamed, clapped and cheered. Stevie blew us a
kiss, gave a little bow and ran over to help the others clear the stage.

By
comparison, the rest of the show was a bore. After the last act finished and
while the judges tallied the scores, the announcer talked about funding for the
center and volunteer work. Normally, I would have paid more attention, but I
found myself distracted yet again by Jackson. His surly mood remained, and I
realized this was the first time since we became a couple that he’d been upset
with me. Naturally, I didn’t like it, but I wasn’t sure how to fix it. 

Tegan
drew me into a discussion about who we thought the top three winners might be.
Before we could decide on anything, we caught a few nasty glares from the
people seated in front of us because we weren’t listening to the announcer. Mom
even shushed us, but by that time the judges were ready to announce the
winners.

Much
to Tegan’s dismay, the clowns came in third. Admittedly, they were
significantly better than the Mariah Carey wannabe. The country band, whose
name I never caught, came in first while Oxide took second. It wasn’t the win
we’d all been hoping for, but it was still good. They’d won two hundred
dollars, which seemed to please the band and leave them in good spirits.