Contessa (34 page)

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Authors: Lori L. Otto

Tags: #Fiction, #Coming of Age

BOOK: Contessa
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About the tutoring? He won

t change his mind about that.


About what, then? Dating him?


Livvy, calm down. You know what, we

re here to meet these parents tonight and show off their kids

talents, not to be with Jon–


–or worry about whether or not only one of them will come back inside unscathed–

my uncle adds.


Matty, that

s not funny.


Yeah, it is,

my mom says with a smile.

The thought of your dad hurting anyone. Come on, Liv. Introduce me to some of your students.

The conversation between Dad and Jon is fairly brief. My dad joins Mom, Matty and me while we

re talking to Jordan

s older sister about the program. Dad introduces himself, and immediately starts to charm the visitors. I can

t find Jon anywhere, and suddenly it

s the only thing I can think about. I finally see him as he

s walking out the front door.


Excuse me, I

ll be right back.

My dad avoids my eye contact as I leave the conversation and make my way to the entrance. When I get outside, I see Jon going into the smoothie shop.


Hey,

I say from behind him once I enter the store.


What would you like?

he asks without turning around.


I

m good,

I tell him.


Alright. I

d like a strawberry banana cocktail with a shot of vodka,

he tells the woman behind the counter.

She smiles at him weakly.

Wish I had that to offer you.

He waits for his smoothie before he turns around to me.


I think I

ll go home soon,

he tells me as he walks out of the shop. He leans against a parking meter and takes a drink.


Okay. What happened? You don

t get to come tutor me?


Oh, no, that

s still on. Under the ever-watchful eye of your dad, that

s still on the schedule. But you
told him about me, Livvy
? You told him I

m not a virgin? Why in the
world
would you tell your father such a thing?


I honestly didn

t mean to. I was talking to Mom–


Let me be more specific,

he says, interrupting me.

There are some things you just don

t need to tell your parents. Some things are private, and should stay between us. I

m dating you, not them, okay?


Okay,

I whisper, feeling bad.

I

m really sorry. I was just confused.


About what, Liv? Ask me questions if you have them. Especially if they

re about me. I have those answers, not Mom and Dad, okay?


Okay,

I repeat softly.

How many girls have you slept with?

He nods at me, knowing the question was coming.

Two.


When?


The first one was last year–last summer. The second was a couple months later.

His answers surprise me–and disappoint me.


Oh.

I can feel my bottom lip begin to quiver.

Wait, a couple months later? Is it not that big of a deal to you?


What do you mean?


You

ll just sleep with whomever? How could you have had meaningful relationships in that span of time?


You

re right. I couldn

t. It

s not like I didn

t know them, though.


So, what, it just happened?


No. Sex doesn

t just happen. It was premeditated, I guess.


So you loved these girls?

He stares at me as he searches for an answer, a good enough answer. He opens his mouth to speak, but changes his mind and remains quiet, turning his back to me and looking at the park across the street. Small bulbs adorn the trees and glow as the sun disappears beyond the horizon.


No,

he says, then swallows hard. He turns back around to face me.

I didn

t love them. I cared about them, and they liked me, but I didn

t love them.


Who were they?


One girl was a classmate of mine, the first one. She and I were lab partners our sophomore year, and we started dating shortly before my dad died. After he was gone, I just–

He shakes his head and doesn

t finish his sentence.

We enjoyed each other

s company. And honestly, I was lonely.


How long had you been seeing her?


Two months? Maybe three? But, I mean, I

ve known her for a couple years. She moved away a few weeks later. I knew it wasn

t anything permanent, but I needed someone at the time.


Who was the other one?


She

s a neighbor of mine. I

ve known her all my life and we spent a lot of time together last summer. I needed to feel close to someone...
something
. I was grasping at whatever bit of intimacy I could find.


Well, that

s just a bad answer,

I tell him, stunned.


It

s the truth,

he explains.

You may not like my answer, Liv, but it

s better than a lie.


I

m not sure that it is.


Did you want me to tell you I loved them?


Ideally, I

d like you to tell me you didn

t sleep with them.


Well, I

m not going to lie. I would hope that if the tables were turned, you

d still be honest even though you knew the truth might hurt. Because I can get over the pain. Regaining trust is something I have a really hard time with.


Well, I don

t have to lie,

I spit back at him.

Because I didn

t do anything wrong.


Livvy, I didn

t do anything
wrong
, either. I did something I

m not entirely proud of. I did something that you clearly are having a hard time accepting. There was nothing wrong with what I did, though. No one got hurt.


If I could have predicted the future, and if I could have known that you would be dating me now, I can honestly say I wouldn

t have wasted my time with those other girls. Especially now that I know how important it is to you.


I want it to be important to you, too.


It is.

He runs his fingers through his hair and throws away his
nearly full
drink.

I

m tired, Livvy. This has been a horrible day, and I just want to put it behind me. So I

m gonna go.


Okay,

I tell him, stone-faced.


And here.

He hands me a
one hundred
dollar bill.

Please give that back to your dad. I don

t want his money.


What was it for?


Cab fare. Tell him he won

t need to worry about you taking the bus anymore.

My eyes well up with tears as I crumple the money in my hand.

Are you breaking up with me?


Do you still want to go out with me?

he asks as he takes a step closer to me.

Because I still want to see you, if you can try to accept this.


I

ll try.


You

re sure?


Yes, I

ll try. I will.


Alright. Then just tell your dad I will pay for cabs, carriage rides, limos, whatever he deems appropriate for you. I swear I will never take you on a city bus again. I think your dad

s a little misinformed about what happens on buses, but I

m not going to be the one to argue with him. Not with this anyway. I

ll save it for something more important.

I force a smile.

Okay.


So I

ll see you Monday after school. Around four?


I

ll be there, ready to study.


Alright. If you have any more questions, call me. Text me. Send smoke signals. Just leave your parents out of it, okay? For us?


Got it. I truly am sorry.


Just a minor hurdle. I

ll jump through hoops. Just stop raising them up so high, okay?


Okay. Good night. Thank you for coming.


It was nice to see you.

He kisses my forehead before heading west to catch his bus. I tuck the money in my handbag and return to the school to rejoin the open house. Everyone is starting to file upstairs for the concert and for the gallery unveiling. I follow at the end of the line, my parents nowhere in sight.

What greets me as I walk into the gallery upstairs catches me completely off guard. The first painting anyone sees is the example I used when we were discussing the color brown. It

s the painting I gave to Granna. It

s a painting of Nate. My parents stand on one side of it, Granna on the other. The rest of the parents are inspecting their own child

s work. I start to turn back around to go downstairs.

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