Infinite (Strange and Beautiful, Book 1) (81 page)

“You
ready to go?”

“Sure.”
I had to ride with Luke because Skylar didn’t have to be at school until nine,
which only made her bathroom hogging all the more annoying.

  “Good,”
Luke grunted. “I don’t think I could listen to another minute of talk about
balloons and streamers.”

When
I got to school, Jackson was waiting by my locker. “Hey,” he smiled as I gave
him a peck on the cheek. “Ready to tackle your last two finals?”

I
groaned and elbowed him out of the way so I could get into my locker. “Ugh, I
don’t even want to think about it.”

Jackson
smiled. “Look on the bright side. Only two more and then you’re home free for
the rest of the summer.”

“Assuming
I make it through Miss Barkley’s final.”

“Hey,
I took it,” Jackson shrugged as I hung my bag in my locker. “It wasn’t so bad.”

“But
you’re smarter than me.”

“As
much as that boosts my ego,” Jackson grinned, “that’s not true. You’re smarter
than you think.”

“Well,
thanks for the vote of confidence,” I smiled, gathering my folders and books.
“What about you? You have Algebra II and . . .”

“American
History,” Jackson supplied as I closed my locker and leaned back against it.

“Ah,
History.” I made a face. “I don’t envy you.”

Jackson
laughed. “American Lit is looking better and better by the second, isn’t it?”

“Maybe
a little.”

“Look
on the bright side.”

“I
thought I was already doing that by reminding myself I only have two finals
left until I’m home free,” I pointed out.

“Well,
yes,” he nodded. “But on the even brighter side we’re still going out tonight, right?”

I
nodded.

“Tegan
and Mark too?”

“Just
Tegan, no Mark.” I rolled my eyes. “He has band practice.”

“Why
am I not surprised?” Jackson grinned. “At least it’s not at your house, right?”

“Right.
I don’t think my dad can handle listening to them for hours on end at this
point.”

“Even
with this new optimistic attitude you’ve been telling me about?”

“I
don’t think there’s enough optimism in the world to change that,” I laughed as
the bell rang. Just as quickly as my good humor appeared, it was gone. “Ugh,” I
sighed. “I guess I better go tackle my P.E. final.”

Jackson
pulled me into a quick hug. “Good luck.”

“You
too.” I pulled away and hurried down the hall toward the room Mr. Tiller told
us we’d be meeting in for our final since the gym would be occupied with
graduation practice.

Tegan
was already there when I got to the classroom. I took the seat next to her as
the bell rang, signaling the start of class. I wasn’t too stressed about the
P.E. final. We’d had a few lectures throughout the semester, and the rest of it
seemed like common sense.

I
finished the test early, feeling pretty good about how I did, and once everyone
had completed his or her test, Mr. Tiller allowed us to talk for the remaining
twenty minutes of class. Tegan and I discussed last night’s episode of
Traveler
.
Well, we theorized briefly, but then we mostly fawned over the hotness of Matt
Bomer, Logan Marshall-Green and Aaron Stanford.

When
class was over, Tegan and I split up to go to our lockers. When I got to Miss
Barkley’s room, I glanced over at Tegan. She looked just as nervous as I felt,
which wasn’t encouraging considering she knew the material far better than me.
I took a deep breath and silently counted to ten in an attempt to calm my
nerves.

In
the end, the final wasn’t nearly as bad as I was expecting. There were a few
questions that I wasn’t sure about, but by the time I finished, I felt better
than I thought I would. I even finished a little early and doubled checked my
answers—a rarity for me—and remembered some of the ones I couldn’t think of
before.

When
class finished, everyone turned in his or her tests. I was one of the last
people in line, and as I headed for the hallway, Miss Barkley called me back
over to her desk.

She
waited until everyone left the room. I held up a finger to Tegan, letting her
know I’d—hopefully—be a minute, and she nodded and went to lean against the
wall across the hall.

“Cecilia,”
Miss Barkley began.

“Yes?”
I wracked my brain, trying to figure out why she’d asked me to stay behind.

“I
was wondering if you’d ever taken a Creative Writing class before.”

“No.”
I shook my head.

“Do
you enjoy writing?”

I
nodded, biting my lip. I was suddenly embarrassed to admit as much.

“Well,
the school is offering a summer Creative Writing class. I think you would enjoy
it and do well in it.”

“Really?”
I squeaked. Had Miss Barkley really just complimented me?

She
smiled slightly, which softened her tough exterior just a bit, and nodded,
handing me some papers from off her desk. “There’s more about it in there along
with the paperwork you’d need to fill out. You’ll have to have it turned in by
next week, but I hope you’ll consider taking it.”

I
smiled, glancing down at the papers. “Sure, thanks.”

She
nodded. “Have a nice summer, Cecilia.”

“Thank
you. You too,” I replied before hurrying out of the room and into the hallway
where Tegan was waiting for me.

When
I explained to her what Miss Barkley said, she grinned, knowingly, “See! I told
you that you could write!”

I
blushed, but I couldn’t suppress a smile. I’d always assumed that Tegan was
probably just being nice about my writing; I couldn’t imagine her telling me I
sucked and should just give up. Now, though, an objective, outside party—a
teacher I’d been certain hated me—actually thought I’d do well in a Creative
Writing class. It seemed to validate Tegan’s compliments as well as boost my
confidence.

The
idea of taking a class for creative writing was very exciting, but I knew I’d
have to check with my parents first. They’d have to pay for the class, and
they’d already paid for me to take driver’s education over the summer. With Dad
not working, I didn’t want to push it. I decided I’d just wait until after
Skylar’s graduation party and talk to them about it. It would be cutting it
close to the signup deadline, but I didn’t want to add anymore to my parents’
already very full plate.

There
were more people left in the hallways than I expected. Most of the time people
flocked toward the exits, but I realized many people were busy cleaning out his
or her locker. I went to de-decorate my locker before I went to meet Tegan at
hers.

Jackson
was going out with a couple of other friends after school. He’d invited Tegan
and I along, but I thought we could use a little one on one time, and I was
sure Jackson could probably do with some of the same. Instead, Tegan and I just
planned to hang out at her house after school until she, Jackson and I went out
later that evening. 

As
I dismantled my locker décor, I reflected on the last year. I couldn’t believe
I’d actually survived my first year of high school. I remembered how worried
I’d been the night before school started. I’d been unable to sleep because of
all the different thoughts racing through my mind.

Those
worries seemed so ridiculous now. Well, except maybe the one about being stuck
in a locker. That was the one, of all my worries, that turned out to be the
most legit. Who’d have thought? As horrible as that experience had been, the
school year hadn’t been nearly as bad as I feared. In fact, it felt like the
good and bad balanced out.

Locker
cleared, I went to find Tegan. She and Mark were talking at her locker, and I
tried to suppress a grin when Mark wrapped his arms around Tegan’s waist. He
then leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek. They were ridiculously cute
together; I was so happy for them.

“Hey,
no groping in the halls,” I scolded, walking up behind them.

“No
groping here!” Mark held up his hands innocently.

“Right.”
I eyed him speculatively. “So, Tegan tells me you’re ditching us tonight for
your band.”

“You
know how your brother is about the band,” Mark grimaced. “I really couldn’t
tell him no.”

“Fair
point,” I nodded.

“So,
shall I walk you ladies out to the parking lot?” Mark offered.

“Sounds
lovely.” Grinning, Tegan looped her left arm through my right and her right arm
through Mark’s left.

“Just
don’t ask me to skip down the hallway and sing,” Mark commented as we headed
down the hallway. I laughed, realizing we did resemble something out of
The
Wizard of Oz
.

Tierney
was waiting for us in her car when we got to the parking lot. Unlike Skylar,
she didn’t complain about waiting.

“How
about going out for lunch?” Tierney suggested.

I
grimaced. “I’d love to, but I don’t actually have much money.”

“Don’t
worry. I’ll pay.”

I
hated letting other people pay for me, but I could see that Tegan was game, so
I offered a compromise. “I’ll pay you back later, okay?”

“If
you must,” Tierney sighed, as though annoyed, but her grin proved she was only
feigning annoyance.

We
decided on Arby’s and went inside to eat. It was nice to hang out with Tierney
again. It felt like it had been ages since we’d done anything together. I
hadn’t been over to hers and Tegan’s house nearly as much, which only reminded
me of my previous guilt over neglecting Tegan; being with them now served as a
reminder for how much I’d missed them. I made a vow to myself never to overlook
them again.

After
lunch, we went back to the Tylers’. While Tierney talked to Jesse on the phone,
Tegan and I watched movies and lazed around most of the afternoon. We tried to
decide what she, Jackson, and I should do later, but the best we could come up
with was food and entertainment at The Bean.

When
Jackson came to pick us up, he didn’t have any objections to our idea.

“If
the entertainment is bad, we can always go somewhere else,” he reasoned.

When
we got to the coffee shop, it wasn’t too busy. We didn’t have to wait in line
to order our food and drinks, but there was a group of people who’d come to
read his or her poetry or to play some music while others had come to enjoy the
atmosphere. It seemed to be exactly what we needed to relax after two days of
finals.

We
took the table in the corner by the window and dug into our food, chatting
about how we thought finals went and talking about our plans for the summer.
Tegan and I seemed to be on the same wavelength with ours, but Jackson wasn’t
too sure about his Algebra II final. I couldn’t blame him; the Algebra I final
last semester had been a pain in the ass. I wasn’t looking forward to taking
Geometry next year.

“Did
Silly tell you about her talk with her new buddy Miss Barkley?” Tegan grinned
slightly.

“No.”
Jackson’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What’s this?”

I
rolled my eyes, laughing. “We’re hardly buddies. She just suggested I take a
Creative Writing class this summer.”

“Further
proving I’ve known all this time what I was talking about when I told Silly
she’s an awesome writer,” Tegan pointed out.

“Yeah,
yeah,” I smiled, waving her off.

Jackson
raised an eyebrow. “Does this mean I actually get to hear some of your poetry?”

Jackson
and I’d had this conversation a few times before. Jackson had been curious
after Tegan brought up my writing around Christmastime. He’d teased me about
reading some of my stuff. As much as I trusted him, I just felt so insecure
about my writing ability; I kept putting him off, telling him I’d let him read
something soon.

I
looked from Tegan to Jackson. They were both waiting. Biting my lip, I glanced
at the woman reading her poetry on the small, raised stage. She seemed so at
ease as she read from her notebook. I hadn’t really been listening, but that
wasn’t the point. She wasn’t afraid. She was willing to put herself out there
and share her words.

I
figured if she could do it, then why couldn’t I? She, like so many others,
poured out the words of her heart to strangers without batting an eyelash. Any
insecurity she may have had was masked, and I found myself wanting to take a
page from her book.

What
was the worst that could happen? People might think I was weird, but I was used
to that. They wouldn’t understand me? So what? The few that did were the ones
that mattered. Maybe they’d think my writing wasn’t worth a damn. That was
fine. It was just matter of opinion anyway. What did I really have to lose?

I
barely had to think about it because the answer was so clear: I had nothing to
lose. There was no sense in continuing to hide, secreting away my words. If my
teacher thought I had talent and my best friend had faith in me, then wasn’t it
about time for me to have faith in myself?

I
trusted Jackson and Tegan. I knew they wouldn’t judge me. They hadn’t thus far,
so if I were to share my writing, why shouldn’t I share it in their company? I
looked between Jackson and Tegan again before taking a deep breath. “I’ll be
right back,” I said, grabbing Jackson’s car keys off of the table.

I
heard Jackson ask after me, “Where are you going?”

I
didn’t answer. Instead I ran outside to Jackson’s car. I used the key to unlock
the door and reached into the backseat and grabbed my bag. I pulled out my
writing notebook before closing the bag and throwing it back into the car.
Cradling the notebook to my chest, I locked the door before shutting it and ran
back inside.

At
the entrance to the coffee shop, I paused to catch my breath. I pulled the door
open and slowly crossed the room. I could see that Jackson and Tegan were
expecting me to come back to the table; instead, I walked over to the stage and
waited until the woman finished speaking. When she was done, I took a deep
breath, looking around to ensure I wasn’t line jumping, and then I stepped up
on the stage.