Contessa (26 page)

“
Like?
”

“
Non-alcoholic,
”
I tell him, shrugging my shoulders at my obvious suggestion.

“
Does the word virgin bother you?
”

I can feel my cheeks heat up at his question, making my answer to it obvious.

“
Personally,
”
he says before he takes a drink of his soda,
“
I like the word.
”

“
Why?
”

“
It
’
s pure,
”
he repeats his earlier response.

“
Yes, Jon, I know the definition now, thank you very much,
”
I say.

“
Alright, smarty, it implies purity in a woman.
”

“
And you like that?
”
I ask nervously.

“
I like the idea of that, yeah. What guy doesn
’
t?
”

I shrug my shoulders, having never had the conversation with any other guys.
“
So, what? You
’
re going to wait until your married or something?
”

Morris places the plates for our first course in front of us, and I pray he hasn
’
t picked up on our topic of discussion. My father would freak out if he knew I was talking about sex with Jon. He
’
d never let me out of the house again.

I pierce a piece of a pear with my fork, waiting for the manager to leave our general vicinity so that Jon can answer my question.
Would I want to wait, too? Could I, if he wanted to?

“
I didn
’
t.
”

“
You didn
’
t what?
”
I ask, rethinking my question. It was a yes or no question. His answer seeps in slowly. I put my fork down on my plate and put my hands in my lap.
“
Oh.
”
I try to keep the disappointment from my face–try to act unaffected by his response–but I am.

“
Yeah, I
’
m not... a virgin.
”

“
Yeah, right.
”
My attempt to react casually is backfiring horribly.
“
Cool.
”

He studies my face as I lose the battle to keep my feelings from showing.

“
That upsets you?
”

“
What?
”
I laugh.
“
Of course not, no. I mean, I didn
’
t really think you were one.
”

“
One what?
”

“
A virgin,
”
I say, frustrated. A few nearby diners look in my direction.
“
I
’
m sorry,
”
I mutter to him.

“
See? Look at our grown-up conversation,
”
he says sarcastically.

“
And I
’
ve never felt more like a little girl. A stupid, naïve little girl.
”

“
Livvy–
”
he tries to stop me.

“
No, really, Jon. I don
’
t really want to talk about it. I mean, I think my dad would be mortified to know we were even discussing this.
”

“
Honestly, yeah. I
’
m sure my dad
’
s pretty mortified for me at this point.
”

“
I
’
m
mortified.
”

“
Don
’
t be,
”
he says.
“
I
’
m sorry. That was completely inappropriate first-date conversation.
”

“
Yeah,
”
I agree. I pick up my fork and start eating again, but I
’
m not able to look him in the eyes. We both sit silently while we finish our first course. Morris brings us refills when he comes to clear the plates.

“
Looks like you needed this,
”
the manager says. I can
’
t look at him, either. Jon takes a drink and immediately starts coughing. He picks up my soda and takes a sip, looking at me curiously. He sets it down and pushes it back in my direction.

“
Something wrong?
”

“
That is definitely not a virgin.
”
I turn my head slowly to scan the dining room, trying to not look obvious.

“
Who?
”
I whisper.

Jon starts laughing hysterically.
“
Not
who
, Livvy. My drink,
”
he giggles, taking another drink.
“
There
’
s definitely rum in there.
”

“
Really?
”
I whisper.

“
Yeah, really.
”

“
Mine, too?
”

“
Of course not. They know you
’
re only sixteen.
”

“
Well, you
’
re only seventeen.
”

“
They don
’
t know that,
”
he says as he leans into me.
“
And Morris can obviously see when a date
’
s going downhill, fast.
”
He clinks his glass against mine and sips it again slowly.

“
Okay, for the record, it
’
s not going downhill. And will you consider what you just said? Surely they realize you
’
re not twenty-one, because if you are, this date just became, like, illegal or something.
”

“
Only if there was sex,
”
he says, throwing caution to the wind. I just stare at him with my mouth open. We both start laughing at the same time.

“
That
’
s not gonna happen,
”
I tell him, still cracking up.

“
Of course it
’
s not.
”
He gets serious quickly.
“
I hope you know that
’
s not what I was getting at.
”

“
No, I know.
”

“
Oh, hell,
”
he sighs as he stares intently into his glass.
“
Can we please start over?
”
When his eyes meet mine, they
’
re apologetic and sweet and earnest and I couldn
’
t say no if I wanted to.

“
Okay.
”

“
Thank you. Good evening, Livvy, and thank you for joining me here tonight.
”

“
Thank you for inviting me.
”

“
May I be upfront with you about something?
”

“
I wish you would,
”
I tell him in mock formal speech.

“
I can only blame my bad behavior on seeing you tonight–seeing you, in this dress, Livvy. I can act like it doesn
’
t affect me, but I would be lying. And I don
’
t want to lie to you. You
’
re a complete distraction, and you
’
ve completely disarmed me of all propriety and manners and good intentions.
”

“
Who knew I had such power?
”

He exhales quickly, laughing.
“
You have no idea, Livvy.
”

Our next course arrives, just in time to help us shift into a different conversation. I decide to take control.

“
When do you find out your test scores?
”

“
Probably in about two weeks.
”

“
Are you nervous?
”
All exuberance is suddenly gone from his eyes.

He clears his throat.
“
Yeah. Very.
”

“
What are you worried about?
”

“
Not realizing my dreams,
”
he says somberly.
“
Having grown up so close to Columbia, I
’
ve really never considered going anywhere else. I
’
ve held on to this dream all of my life. It
’
s what
’
s gotten me where I am today. Everything I
’
ve done has been to get accepted there.
”

“
Well, surely you
’
ll get in.
”

“
There are no guarantees, Livvy.
”

“
You
’
re at the top of your class–
”

“
In a public school, Livvy. That
’
s not as impressive as being top of my class in a prep school like yours.
”

“
It says a lot about you, I think. I mean, don
’
t they consider everything when they look at admissions?
”

“
What? My family
’
s income? My underwhelming childhood? The death of my father? The stupid decisions my mom
’
s made
all my life
?
”

I swallow hard, feeling like I
’
ve hit a nerve. He drinks the rest of his rum and Coke.

“
I guess,
”
he continues quietly.
“
But you still can
’
t bomb the SATs.
”

“
I
’
m sure you didn
’
t
bomb
them.
”

“
I
’
m sure I didn
’
t
bomb
them, yeah. But I know I didn
’
t do as well as I would have liked. My scores may get me in, but I doubt they
’
d be good enough to get me financial aid–which I have to have.
”

“
I bet you did fine,
”
I tell him, unsure what else I can really say to turn this into something less stressful for him.
“
And when you get in, and you get that scholarship, I
’
m going to take
you
out to dinner to celebrate.
”

He smiles at me.
“
Okay,
”
he says simply.

“
Where would you go?
”

“
To dinner?
”

“
Yeah,
”
I urge him on.
“
Anywhere in the world, where would you go?
”

“
Wow, anywhere in the
world
?
”

“
Why not?
”

“
You must not have much faith in this scholarship.
”

“
Of course I do!
”

“
Well, you can
’
t deliver on a dinner anywhere in the
world
.
”