Free Infinite (Strange and Beautiful, Book 1) by Brittney Musick

“Well, I’m not going to pull up here to pick you up if
that’s what you’re thinking. So, are you coming or not?”
    I
nodded wordlessly and hurried after him.
    We
walked across the parking lot, bypassing the few remaining cars. At first I was
confused where we were headed until we reached the very last row of parking. In
the far corner, parked at an angle, was a cobalt blue Chevy Camaro with white
racing stripes on the hood and roof, and Jackson headed straight for it.
    I
trailed behind, most likely with my mouth hanging open, as Jackson walked
around to the driver’s side and unlocked the door.
    He
paused before opening the door and looked over the roof to me. “What’s wrong
with you?”
    “ This is your car?” I asked, wide-eyed and incredulous.
    “Yep,”
he said simply as he slid into the driver’s seat and reached across to the
passenger’s side and unlocked the door. I pulled it open and slid inside.
    “Me
and my brothers spent two years restoring it,” Jackson explained once I was
inside and pulling on my seatbelt.
    I
was still too baffled by the awesomeness of his car to reply as he put the key
in the ignition, and the engine boomed to life. He then pulled on his seatbelt
and switched on the radio. He revved the engine before he backed out of the
parking space.
    “So,
how did you miss your ride, anyway?” he asked as he stopped at the stop sign
leading out of the parking lot.
    “Oh.”
I had to think for a minute. It was surreal to be sitting in a classic car with
a gorgeous guy. Once I collected my thoughts, I said, “I was talking to
Annabelle Jansen about the school newspaper.”
    “Taking
Journalism then, I assume?”
    I
nodded, and because I couldn’t help it and simply had to tell someone, I said,
“She asked me if I’d like to write a review for the paper.”
    I
didn’t think that Tegan would mind too much if she weren’t the first person I
told. Besides, she would most certainly be the first to hear all the details of
this bizarrely monumental moment where I not only managed to talk to a guy, but
I managed to talk to a really hot, nice guy.
    “That’s
cool,” he nodded. “You like to write?”
    “Sometimes,”
I admitted. “I’ve never written anything for other people to read before. Well,
besides, a teacher, but that doesn’t really count, does it? I mean, I doubt
most teachers even really care anyway. After all, they all usually assign the
same things anyway. Books reports, autobiographies, and stuff like that. I
don’t know why they bother, really. I feel like I write the same, boring things
every time if it’s about myself.”
    “Oh,
I don’t know,” Jackson commented, “I bet yours would be rather entertaining.”
    I
glanced over at Jackson and saw a smile playing on his full lips. He probably
wanted to laugh at me. He probably thought I was a blundering idiot. After all,
I knew I was rambling, so I grew quiet. I always seemed to get a case of verbal
diarrhea when I was nervous, and cute guys made me very nervous.
    When
I didn’t reply to his comment, Jackson asked, “So, what are you writing your
review on?”
    “I
don’t know,” I answered. “I’m supposed to make a list of movies or books
tonight and talk to Annabelle tomorrow.”
    “Got
any ideas yet?”
    “I’m
not sure,” I said. “I haven’t seen many movies lately. At least not any new ones,
but I read a lot. Maybe Perks of Being a Wallflower, but I’m not sure if
that’s really appropriate to suggest at school. I know it’s been banned in some
places.”
    “That’s
true. It’s a good book, but the themes aren’t really,” he seemed to search for
the right words for a moment, “school administration friendly.”
    “That’s
for sure,” I nodded.
    “Have
you read anything by John Green?” Jackson asked.
    “No,
I haven’t,” I answered, “but the name sounds familiar.”
    “He
has a couple of books out. Looking For Alaska and An Abundance of
Katherines just came out a week or