Infinite (Strange and Beautiful, Book 1) (60 page)

I
tried not to sound too giddy when I agreed, but I thought some of it spilled
over. “Drive carefully,” I warned before I turned off the phone. 

I
crossed the room to my dresser to get a pair of socks. My toes were cold, and I
wondered if Mom or Dad forgot to turn the heat back up this morning because it
sure didn’t feel like they had. I decided to head downstairs and check while I
waited for Jackson, but, as I passed, I noticed Skylar’s door was partway open.

I
popped my head inside, planning to greet her with a “good morning” and let her
know Jackson was on his way over, but instead I shrieked as the sight of my
half naked sister.

She
was standing in front of the mirror, doing only God knows what, and spun around
in alarm. “What?” she looked around, frantically, as if expecting to see an
intruder or an army of spiders coming to get her. “What’s wrong?”

“Why
are you standing there half naked with the door wide open?” I closed the door
behind me and pressed my back against it.

Skylar’s
shoulders relaxed and the fear left her eyes. It was replaced with annoyance,
which she further expressed through her clipped reply. “It’s not as if anyone’s
going to see.”

“Hello?”
I waved my hands in front of me. “What am I?”

“Honestly,
Sil,” she laughed. “If you’re afraid of seeing a girl half dressed, I can’t
imagine what’ll happen when you see Jackson undressed.”

I
paused for a moment, considering it. Instead of freaking out, like Skylar
seemed to expect, I suddenly felt very warm all over. I shook the enticing
mental image away and returned to the matter at hand.

“What
if it had been Luke who walked by?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. “I
don’t think he wants to see you in your bra and panties. I mean, that could
very possibly scar him for life.”

“I
think Luke’s delicate sensibilities are safe,” Skylar snorted. “He isn’t likely
to drag his lazy ass out of bed for at least a couple more hours. Even then,
he’d probably be too worried about band practice to even notice the door was
open.” From the way she spat the word “band,” it was obvious Skylar was still
miffed about Stevie joining.

“Fair
point,” I conceded, turning and pulling the door open to leave. “But Jackson is
on his way over, so I’m going downstairs and I’m going to close the door behind
me, and I’d very much appreciated it if you’d at least pretend to have a little
modesty.”

“When
you’d get to be so bossy?” Skylar called after me as I slipped out the door,
pulling it tightly shut behind me.

After
checking the thermostat and turning it up a couple degrees to ward off the
chill in the air, I went back to the living room and did a decent imitation of
watching television while really keeping a look out for Jackson. 

As
soon as I saw the cobalt blue of his car, I was out of my seat and headed for
the door. When I got there, I pulled it open and waved as Jackson climbed out
of his car. He looked adorable bundled up in a heavy flannel coat and his hat
and scarf.

“Hey,”
I called as he walked up the sidewalk.

“Hey
yourself,” he grinned as he stepped up on the first stair leading up to the
front door. I didn’t notice the patch of ice until, suddenly, his arms were
moving like a windmill as he started to slip backwards.

Instinctively,
I stepped forward, soaking my socked feet on the wet entry, and grabbed for
him. Of course, my intended help only served as a hindrance because Jackson
outweighed me by quite a bit. He grabbed onto my shoulders, trying to steady
himself, but he couldn’t find his footing again. Instead, I found myself
falling forward as he continued to fall back until he landed first on his butt,
sending his legs into the air and tangling with mine, before he found himself
flat on his back as I landed on top of him with an, “Oomph.”

  It
took me a minute to regain my breath. When I did, I scrambled off of him. “Oh.
My. God. Are you okay?”

Jackson
sat up, slowly, with a wince. He rubbed the back of his head. “I think someone
forgot to salt the steps,” he muttered as I offered him my hand. He took it and
slowly stood. He rubbed his backside, grimacing. “I’m pretty sure that’s going
to bruise.”

“Sorry.”
I winced at his obvious discomfort and felt all the more guilty because he’d
cushioned my fall.

“It’s
not your fault,” he said as I led him into the house, closing the door behind
us.

“Are
you sure you’re okay?” I asked as I peeled off my sopping socks.

“Yeah,”
he sighed, gingerly removing his coat. “Just sore and wet.”

I
took his coat and hung it in the closet to dry while Jackson toed off his
shoes. “I’ll see if Luke has something you can borrow while we dry your
clothes.”

Jackson
nodded, leaning back against the front door, and I hurried upstairs, wet socks
in hand. I deposited them in the laundry basket before going into my room and
changing into some clean, dry clothes before going to Luke’s door. I knocked,
but there was no answer, so I knocked again. When I still didn’t hear anything,
I cracked the door open, praying I wouldn’t find anything traumatizing, and saw
his sleeping form lying in his bed.

I
rolled my eyes at my brother’s sloth-like ways as I pushed the door open the
rest of the way and scanned his messy room.

“Luke,”
I whispered, “Jackson needs to borrow some of your clothes.”

There,
I thought, now he can’t say I took his stuff without asking. I skirted around
the mess on the floor over to the closet. It was a struggle to push it open,
but once I finally got it to move, I was surprised to find Luke actually had
his clothes hanging up. I’d been expecting an avalanche of textiles.

I
scanned the items inside for a second, using the lone ray of light from the
window to see, before I grabbed a plain blue t-shirt that looked like it would
fit Jackson’s long torso. Then I edged over to his dresser and pulled open a
couple drawers before I found his jeans. I found a pair of cargo pants that
Luke almost never wore. I wasn’t sure if they’d be long enough since Luke was
several inches shorter than Jackson, but he’d only have to wear them until his
clothes were dry.  

I
crept back out of the room, closing the door behind me, and headed downstairs.
Jackson was still waiting by the door. His eyes were closed and he looked
peaceful. I hoped that meant he wasn’t too sore. He opened his eyes when the
step creaked beneath my socked foot.

I
smiled, holding the clothes out to him. “I hope these will fit.”

“Thanks,”
Jackson said, pushing off from the door. His movements were slower and less
graceful than usual, I noted, as he made his way down the hall to the bathroom.

I
headed down the hall a moment later and into the kitchen. I opened the cabinet
above the stove that Mom always referred to as the “catch all” because it was
usually where all of the random items wound up. Standing on tiptoes, I dug
around inside for a moment before finding the pain medication I sought. Jackson
looked like he’d need it. I also grabbed a couple of cans of pop from the
refrigerator and headed into the living room.

As
I was setting the drinks and pain medicine on the coffee table, Jackson
appeared at the doorway to the living room with his wet clothes in hand. I looked
him over for any obvious signs of injury; he seemed fine. I also noticed that
Luke’s clothes seemed to fit him well enough. The cargo pants hung a little low
on his hips, but that seemed to help with the length. The shirt was a bit
baggy, which wasn’t a huge surprise since Luke—while certainly not fat—was
husky compared to Jackson’s lean swimmer’s build.

“Here,”
I said, crossing the room to take his wet clothes. “I’ll put those in the
dryer.” He handed them over and I nodded toward the coffee table. “I left a
drink and some pain medicine on the coffee table.”

“Thanks,
Sil.” His smile was grim as he walked stiffly over to the couch and sat down
gingerly. I watched as he opened one of the Cokes and took a drink before
reaching for the pain medicine.

After
getting Jackson’s clothes into the dryer, I hurried back to the living room.
“So,” I said, taking the seat next to him on the couch. “You certainly know how
to make an entrance.”

“Yeah,”
Jackson laughed, “I totally planned that.”

I
grinned. “I knew it!”

“I
couldn’t resist,” he smirked. “I just love falling on my ass.”

“Poor
baby.” I stuck out my bottom lip in a pout. “So, what do you feel like doing?”

“I
don’t know. I thought I was coming over so you could entertain me.”

“Is
that all I am to you?” I scoffed. “A source of entertainment?”

“Well,
you are also my cute arm candy,” he winked.

“Nice,”
I blushed. “How about a movie?”

“A
movie sounds good. What have you got?”

“A
little bit of everything,” I shrugged. “Any particular genre you’re in the mood
for?”

He
shook his head. “Just pick something.”

“I
don’t like the sound of that, Jackson,” I commented as I stood to go look
through our collection of DVDs. “My dad usually says that to my mom when he’s
planning to sleep through the movie.”

“Hey,
I’m injured, remember?” he grinned. “I need to rest.”

“What
ever
.”
Rolling my eyes, I walked over to the shelving unit we used for movies and
music and looked through the DVDs for a moment before I picked up one. “Since
you’re planning to sleep, I’m choosing
High School Musical.
”

Jackson’s
eyes grew wide as I carried the DVD over to the entertainment center. “Are you
serious?” he laughed.

“Oh,
come on, Jackie,” I grinned, cheerfully. The nickname earned me a heatless
glare. “We can sing along.”

The
glare and incredulity was quickly replaced with a look of intrigue. “You know,”
he considered, “it just might be worth watching if you’re going to sing along.”

I
raised an eyebrow. “This goes back to being a source of entertainment, right?”

“You
catch on quickly, young grasshopper,” he grinned.

I
shook my head as I put the DVD in the player. Once the disc was in, I grabbed
the remote control for the DVD player and walked back to the couch. I slid back
into my seat next to Jackson and pulled the knitted afghan off the back of the
couch.

“Cold?”
Jackson guessed as I spread the blanket over my legs.

I
nodded. “Are you?”

“A
little.” I unfolded the afghan the rest of the way and covered both of our legs
with it before Jackson wrapped his arm around my shoulders. I leaned into him
and he pulled me closer as the movie started to play.

Apparently,
Jackson wasn’t the only one who needed to rest because my eyes were heavy and
falling shut before Zac Efron and Vanessa Anne Hudgens were finished singing
“Start of Something New.”

I
was roused from my peaceful slumber with my head against Jackson’s chest when I
heard the doorbell ring. I looked at the television and saw that the
High
School Musical
gang was singing about all of them being in something
together.

I
lifted my head slightly as Jackson let out a light snore. I made a mental note
to remember to tease him about it later. Dad also snored, but he was much
louder. His snores sounded like a huge rumbling, and Mom hated when he fell
asleep on the couch while watching a movie or TV show. He got so loud it made
it hard to hear anything but him. Sometimes she’d just keep turning the
television up until it got so loud he woke up.

I
wondered who was at the door, but I couldn’t bring myself to actually move. I
was too comfortable and sleepy; I wanted to stay just where I was snuggled up
to Jackson.

The
sound of footsteps on the stairs came as a relief. I assumed it was Skylar,
coming to answer the door. It was probably for her anyway because I doubted
Luke was out of bed yet. I laid my head back down on Jackson’s chest and closed
my eyes to go back to sleep only to awake moments later to the sound of
Skylar’s voice.

“Aw,
aren’t they so cute?”

I
groaned, lifted my head, and glared sleepily at her before noting that Scott
was there; obviously, he’d been the one at the door. I wasn’t overly surprised
to see him. He and Skylar had been talking more regularly since Christmas
break. I wasn’t sure if they were just friends or if they were trying to be
something more once again. Since Skylar seemed to be in a better mood—Oxide
aside—my guess was the latter.

Scott
waved and smiled a little at me before moving to sit on the loveseat. Skylar
took the seat beside him and turned her attention to the television screen. She
scrunched up her nose. “What on earth are you watching?”

“
High
School Musical
,” I muttered, rubbing my sleepy eyes while trying,
unsuccessfully, to stifle a yawn.

Skylar
glanced at Scott with an expression that seemed to ask if he had any idea what
that was; he simply shrugged.

I
rolled my eyes as I forced myself to sit up. I then nudged Jackson in the
shoulder. He looked so peaceful, and I figured he must be a heavy sleeper—or
just really exhausted— if he could sleep through the sound of my sister’s loud
mouth. I didn’t want to wake him, but I figured since I couldn’t sleep and he
was supposed to be there to visit with me, he should have to suffer through the
invasion of Skylar and her sort of, maybe boyfriend too.

When
nudging him didn’t work, I grabbed his shoulder and shook it. “Jackson.” I
shook him lightly as I said his name.

I
glanced over at Scott and Skylar; they were both watching and I felt myself
blush. For some reason, waking Jackson felt incredibly intimate and doing so
under someone else’s watchful eyes was somewhat embarrassing. I shook him
again, harder, and after a moment, he finally lifted his head as a snore died
in his throat as his eyes popped opened.