Dear Jon (18 page)

Is it dumb to believe?

“Jon? I’m gonna miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too, Will. But I am so glad we’ve had this summer together. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

“Would you trade it for the universe?”

“Ummm,” I hedge, teasing him. “Yeah, I think I would. Sorry, but I mean… it’s the
universe
.”

“I’d trade it for a planet,” he counters.

“Which one?”

“…the one with
all
girls.” He laughs after saying it.

“Yeah, I think you’re going to be fine. By the time I leave, something tells me Ellen will be a tiny blip on your radar… just a speck… like that star right there.” I sit up and push his shoulder. “And don’t date girls who think cigarettes look cool. They don’t, and they’re not.”

“Yeah,
that
was dumb.”

“Yeah,” I agree. “That was.”

I can’t get Livvy’s letter off my mind tonight. It’s been three hours since I read it, and I’ve thought of nothing else except the memory she reflected on today.

I take off my glasses to read it once more, starting with the word at the bottom.

Unthinkable.

Not hardly. Not even close.

I love you, Jon.

I trusted you. In a moment of passion and utter foolishness, I trusted you.

I still feel bad. I always will. I could blame Finn, but I know I have to take responsibility for my actions that day. I was brimming with jealousy. I’d felt very territorial. She was mine.

“I want to possess you.”
That’s what I had told her that Sunday in my dorm room.
“Own you.”
Like she was a thing. Like she was an item I could control and keep. She played along. She was all in. She wasn’t thinking any more clearly than I was.

I have questioned my motivation since the day it happened… not every day, because I don’t even like to remember that was me that took such a chance with our futures. It was by far the dumbest thing I’d ever done. It was the worst thing I’d ever asked her to do.

I thought it was an act of love and commitment. You wanted to share something with me you’d shared with no one else. How romantic, right?

I’m seventeen, Jon. I was still in high school… and I know every time we slept together there was risk involved, but it was nothing like that day we came home from our vacations.

For one thing, why did you make me show you my pills? Why didn’t I question you then? Did you not trust me, when I was willing to put everything on the line for you? You made me prove how responsible I had been… you made me prove I wasn’t lying to you. I wouldn’t lie to you, Jon. Not when it really mattered… and this time, well. It really mattered, and it could have changed everything in our lives.

I’m still so sorry about that. I never properly apologized to her. I had admitted to her it was incredibly stupid, but I don’t think I ever explained just how remorseful I was.

If I had, I probably would be reading a slightly different version of this letter.

What if I had gotten pregnant, Jon? At the time, when I chose to set aside the Plan B, I put my faith in God and in you… that whatever happened to me was a consequence of our actions, and it was something I was going to face, regardless. You were very certain, though, that I wasn’t with child.

Why did I trust you then? Where was my brain at all?

I’m glad God had my best interest at heart, because I am not sure you did, or do.

I don’t blame her.

Would you have even stayed with me, had I been carrying your baby? I have so many doubts. I’m losing faith in you daily. It hurts me to even write it, but it’s true. I can’t fathom how you can just go on with your life like I was nothing… like we were nothing.

I thought you would love me through everything: through fights and mistakes and poor decisions. But you’ve turned your back on me and you walked away.

It’s the second time you’ve left me… the second time you’ve abandoned me without really giving me a chance to fight for us. I thought these letters would convey everything I’m feeling. I thought they might break through your shield.

They have, Liv.
You
have.

Thank God I didn’t get pregnant. Maybe you’ve learned something from your father… maybe you think it’s acceptable to leave another life behind, but it’s not, Jon. You make commitments, and you keep them. If you can’t, you owe it to someone to tell them.

I know I owe her an explanation. I wish I hadn’t let so many weeks pass. I wish I could be there to see her and talk to her now. I have every intention of making this right back at school.

I kissed Finn. I’m not even sure it was a conscious decision. How could it be when I loved you with everything I had? I gave you every ounce of me… I let you possess me. I put my life and my future in your hands.

Why?

We aren’t finished.

I keep telling myself that.

Unthinkable

I feel bad about everything she’s mentioned. How I didn’t wear a condom. How I made her prove to me that she’d taken her birth control, even after she said she had. How my focus that day as I had sex with her was just me wanting to prove my dominance over her. How I have walked away from her twice. How I have been so selfishly silent this entire summer. How she compared me to my emotionless father, saying I abandoned her.

And she’s right. I
can
be like my father in some ways. Driven. Intelligent. Curious. Serious. Ambitious. But there are negative traits of his that I could easily have inherited, or learned.

Abandonment… because for years, as a kid, I did feel that he had left us. That feeling was exacerbated by the acerbic tongue of my bitter mother, and it was valid on many levels. But I
never
would have abandoned my child. I can’t stand that she thinks that of me. In that 2% chance that something would have happened, I would have stayed by her side through it all.

I wouldn’t have abandoned either of them, no matter what. I won’t be like my father in that way.

I can be stoic like him, though, I know this. It’s how I’ve protected myself from further pain all summer, and I hate to say it, but the only way I can think about facing her at Columbia is to continue wearing this facade of strength and detachment. I don’t want her to see how much she’s hurt me. I don’t want her to ever think she could do something like what she did again and get away with it. I don’t want her to know how much and how deeply I have fallen for her. I have pride. There have to be consequences for her actions. There has to be an understanding that I wouldn’t accept another lapse in her fidelity, even if it was an impulsive kiss with a close friend. Would I walk away a third time without warning? No. I would make sure she understood all my reasons for leaving, and for finally moving on.

But there can’t be a third time. I don’t think there would be.

I check my watch. Eleven-forty-five. It’s nearly two in the morning in Manhattan. What are the chances she’s still awake? Pretty good, if she’s still painting… but I don’t want to be a distraction to her. Maybe Jack was right all along. I
was
the distraction. I don’t ever want to be what comes between her and her artwork again… between her and everything she knows about herself.

It would probably be easier to start the conversation while I’m still in Utah, though. I can keep my distance, emotionally, not having to see her… but that’s not really what I want.

I want to know if I will still feel the connection. I need to know if the undeniable pull to be together still exists when we’re in the presence of one another. I need tests. I need for every part of me to be a part of this decision. If I leave it to my brain, it’s over. If I leave it to my heart, I am done for, and she will always have the ability to crush me with one tiny mistake. I want to touch her skin or feel her arms hold me close to her; to smell her hair or her natural perfume; to see her smile or tears; to hear each sigh or breath or word; to taste each kiss.

Tomorrow, I’ll make sure I was able to get into the art class I’d chosen last week. It’s Figure Drawing, since I’ve already taken the two introductory drawing courses, and I know Livvy will have to take at least Basic Drawing in the same building before she can get into Painting I… if they don’t let her skip ahead, and they very well may. I’ve heard of them having portfolio reviews to allow for that, and I know her portfolio would blow everyone away.

But I’ve never heard of anyone bypassing Basic Drawing. It’s fundamental. If they allowed people to test out of it, I surely would have.

That will put me in at least one building with her one day a week.

And I’m pretty sure I just leveled up on my stalker status.

Already I’m planning my life around her, and I’m not even one-hundred percent certain I’m ready to take her back… one semester together should be telling, though. We’ll either be drawn together, or we’ll discover other interests that take us in opposing directions. I hope it’s the former. I’ll at least be open-minded to the possibility, but this needs to be gradual. No rushing into things. Friends, then dating, then… whatever becomes of us.

I smile at the prospect, suddenly nervous and anxious to see her. What if all the hostility comes back when I see her standing in front of me? Then what?

Then maybe she
isn’t
the one. I have to be open-minded about that, too.

“Max, bring me that marker, will ya?” I ask my brother with a box of books in my lap.

“Why do you have to go back?” he asks me, reluctantly handing me the Sharpie.

“I’m going back to school, silly. And so are you. We’re going to be busy learning things, right?”

“Why can’t you go to school here?”

“Because my school’s in Manhattan, you know that.” He watches me with his arms crossed as I label my belongings. I set them to the side. “Come here.”

Max throws his arms around me, hugging me tightly. “I don’t want you to go.”

“I’m not leaving today, Max, so don’t get all mushy on me yet,” I say with a laugh, tickling his sides to force him to let go of me. “My flight’s not until the day after tomorrow. So what do you want to do today?”

“You’re not going to work?”

“Nope, my last day was yesterday. I just need to go pick up my paycheck today.”

“Can I go with you?”

I shrug my shoulders. “Sure… why don’t we get Will, too, and we’ll just have a guy’s day? Whatever you want to do.”

“That sounds fun,” he agrees.

“Go get dressed.” Max leaves the room hurriedly as I put one more layer of tape on the box, hoping it will arrive in one piece after being manhandled by the airline. I put it against the wall next to my luggage by the door on my way out. “Will, wanna hang out with us today? Just the guys?”

“Sure! What are we doing?”

“Anything you guys want, if you can agree on something. Or else we’ll just take turns going places.”

“I want to learn how to ice skate,” Will suggests. “They have hockey at school, and it’d be cool to play. I think Max is interested, too.”

“Yeah? We could do that. I’m probably a little rusty, so don’t look to me to teach you this lesson.”

“Maybe I’ll be able to do something better than you,” he says.

“There’s a first time for everything, right?” That earns me a punch in the arm. “Is that the best you’ve got?” I challenge him, daring me to hit me again. He does, but it’s still weak. “Man, if you’re going to play hockey, you’ll need to learn how to hit a lot harder. And no, you can’t practice on Max.”

Will grins a little, grabbing the book he’s been reading and going into the living room. This reminds me to go back to get my bag with a textbook and the letter I got from Livvy in this morning’s mail. Our little brother joins us moments later, and we all head out to enjoy our day together.

Shane greets me at the the worksite with my check.

“I’ve put a letter of recommendation in with it… should you ever need it. Don’t hesitate to use me as a reference. If you stayed here, I’d hire you for every job I’ve got.”

“Thanks,” I tell him.

“These your brothers?” he asks as we both walk toward the car.

“Yeah.” I signal for them both to get out. “Will, Max… this was my boss, Shane.”

“Nice to meet you, sir,” Max says, which is much more polite than Will’s simple, “Hey.”

“Thanks to both of you for letting Jon spend so much time here. Thanks to him, we’ll probably finish a week ahead of schedule.” He smiles at Will and Max, then leans in. “I added a little bonus to your brother’s check, so you make sure he takes you somewhere nice for lunch, you got it?”

“Yes, sir!” Max says.

“Thank you for the opportunity, Shane. You’ve been a great boss.”

“If you find yourself back here, look me up… but go get that degree first.”

“Yes, sir,” I say with a chuckle, shaking his hand. “Best of luck to you.”

“Thanks, kid. You, too.” He pats my arm before heading back to the house. I wave at a few of my coworkers before corralling my brothers into the car.

“Where to, guys?” I ask them, taking a peek inside the envelope. In addition to my paycheck is five-hundred dollars cash. I glance out the window to see if Shane’s still around, but he’s already gone inside.
Wow
. I never expected that.

“Ice rink, ice rink!” Max is chanting from the back seat.

“Ice rink it is,” I say, driving to a facility I’d seen near Audrey’s house.

Once we’re there, I help Max lace up his skates before putting mine on. Will has picked up a class schedule and tucked it inside his book. He heads to the ice, walking in skates with more confidence than he should probably have.

Max is equally excited, tugging on my arm while I secure our things into a locker. When we finally make it to the rink, he’s cautious about stepping on the ice. “You’re going to fall, Max, okay? That’s just a fact.”

“I don’t want to,” he says.

“I don’t want to, either,” I tell him, “but I’m going to fall, too. I don’t believe that humans were meant to ice skate.” After saying it, I look around for my other brother, and see him doing remarkably well on his own. “At least
this
human wasn’t meant to.”

I step onto the ice first, but Max is hesitant.

“I’m scared, Jon.”

“Don’t be, buddy. You’re short, so you don’t have far to fall… plus, they have bars you can hold on to around the rink, see?”

“Hold my hand?” he asks.

“Sure thing,” I tell him, taking his small hand in mine and waiting for him to get enough courage to take his first step. “Just get a feel for it. You can just walk first.” I pick up my feet and show him how it’s not that different from walking normally. “Instead of heel-toe, you just pick up your foot and put it down in one motion. Just like you did on the carpet. You just want to be more sure of your step on the ice, because if you’re not at the right angle, the skate will slip right out from under you.”

“And then I’ll fall.”

“Yeah.” I put him between me and the wall, encouraging him to hold on to the rail, too. Mom will kill me if he breaks a bone two weeks before school starts. We go very slowly around the rink, and when little girls start to pass us, Max starts to get a little more daring. He tries skating, still gripping tightly to my hand. At his slow pace, I just have to keep stomping in my skates. “You’re doing great, buddy!” I tell him as his strides take him a little further.

“Good job, Max,” Will says loudly as he passes us. He seems to be a natural at this. He stops abruptly and moves to the side of the rink. “Jon, let him try on his own.”

“I don’t know…” I don’t think he’s ready.

“Max, let go of Jon, okay? And then just come toward me. You can go slow.”

Our younger brother nods as he releases me, and then lets go of the wall, too. Will cheers Max on as he glides cautiously toward him, taking tiny steps away, increasing their distance, but our youngest brother is laughing, liking the challenge.

“See, Max? You just have to try… it’s not hard, is it?”

“No!” he says excitedly, stumbling a little but managing to stay upright.

“Jon, go skate,” Will says. “I’ll watch him.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll do a lap,” I tell them both, skating off slowly. Little kids still pass
me
, but I’m okay with that.

I remember wanting to go skating with Livvy. I was sure she’d been a million times, and I knew it was a cliché date idea, but I wanted us to cling together in the cold, supporting each other when one of us felt unsteady on our feet… kiss after we fell on the ice. It seemed like such a fun, free thing to do.

I pass my brothers a few times, trusting Max with Will more and more as I watch them together. When I decide to take a break, Will is holding Max’s hand and pulling him with him. Our little brother can’t stop smiling as the breeze whips through his messy hair.

I go to the locker, taking off the skates and putting my sneakers back on. I grab my backpack and head to the cafe area, ordering some ice water before settling into a booth in the corner.

I wonder if Livvy will continue to write me when I go back to Manhattan. I’ve become accustomed to her letters. If they were to stop, I know I’d miss them, and her.

I love you, Jon.

I loved you when you first kissed me. I loved you when you last kissed me.

I loved you when I kissed Finn.

Ugh. Seeing his name still irritates me, but I’m interested to see where she’s going to take this letter.

My graduation day was supposed to be really special. It was a milestone, and not because I was leaving high school behind, but because it was another step toward independence. Imaginary barriers that once held me back simply because of my age or grade would no longer stop us from moving forward with our lives.

I had been looking forward to that day for a long time.

When I woke up that morning, I couldn’t wait to see you. At first, I’d forgotten we’d even fought. But as soon as I moved in my bed, the throbbing pain in my head brought back all the bad memories from the night before. I started crying, waking up my mom. She’d slept with me that night to make sure I was okay.

The morning was fraught with confusion for me. Nothing really made sense. Why was I rushing to get ready? Why did I pick out the dress I was going to wear? What did I want for breakfast? Why couldn’t I stop crying? Why wouldn’t my brother settle down? Every decision seemed difficult. I was annoyed.

Had it been any other day, I would have crawled back into bed and stayed there. I’d even asked my dad if I had to go, but of course he said yes.

I see no reason why I should have listened, though. If ever I should have stood up to my father, it would have been that day.

It was a horrible day.

To begin with, I had a terrible bump and bruise on my head. It was my own fault, I know, but I still should have taken time to heal.

Then, we were fighting. I’m not sure what more I could have done to work things out. You weren’t answering my calls or texts. Why did you do that, Jon? Why do you shut me out when we have bad fights? I can’t stand it. All I want to do is work things out, and you always run away.

Why?

I don’t think I can accept that anymore. We’ve been through too much for you to just walk away without trying. If that’s the only way you can cope with arguments, well… I don’t think it’s fair or right. I’d even say I don’t think it’s mature.

She’s right about all of it. I should have picked up the phone the first time she called. Ignoring her over and over again just created more tension, more distance, and look where it’s gotten me. For someone who was constantly thinking she was the immature one, this is one of the worst things I could have done.

An
adult
faces these problems. An
adult
gives other people the chance to explain, to apologize, at least to talk.

What an ass I’ve been.

You didn’t show up to my ceremony… when we should have been celebrating it together. It was a monumental disappointment, Jon. Remember how you felt when your mom missed yours? I never thought you’d do that to me.

How could I have done that to her? I remember the immense sadness. I hate that I made Livvy feel the same way.

To make matters worse, they called me by my birth name at graduation. And it wasn’t just embarrassment. It disassociated me from my family. It reminded me that this wasn’t where my life began. People laughed at me. They laughed as they watched me remember that I was once an orphan, and didn’t always belong to this loving family.

I wanted to cry. I wanted to, and then I did.

For someone who was already in a state of confusion and sadness, this sort of pushed me over the edge. I lost it.

Please, try to put yourself in my shoes. If you were in my head that day, you would have been just as lost and as low as I was.

I’m not saying what I did was right. I’m not saying it was excusable. I’m not saying it was smart or warranted or forgivable. I’m not saying it was what I wanted. I never wanted to kiss him. There was never a conscious thought that led me to him. It was not premeditated. It was not done in a moment of passion. It was not anything you’re making it out to be.

The only thing it was… was a mistake.

I wanted you. I wanted you to hold the icepack to my head. I wanted you to sleep next to me that night and make sure I was okay. I wanted you to stand backstage at my graduation and hold my hand, tell me that I looked beautiful even though a large, white bandage was sitting just beneath my cap. I wanted you to be there when they called me the name of a girl I haven’t known in thirteen years. I wanted you to hold me and console me. I wanted to cry in your arms. I wanted you to kiss me.

I wanted you to kiss me and make it all better. That’s all I wanted at all that day.

You.

Only you.

Always you.

Where were you?

I’ve felt bad all summer for what happened. I won’t feel guilty anymore because I know there was no intent or motive. I know what happened was innocent. I am just sad you haven’t given me the chance to make you see that.

I know where my heart is; where it’s been for the past two years; where it’s been every single day this summer. It’s been with you, waiting for you, yearning for you, making plans with you…

Has it been a waste of time?

Is it time to let go?

I’ve learned so much about myself this summer. I’m strong-willed. I’m independent. I’m expressive. I’m unpredictable. I’m worthy of love.

If not yours… someone’s.

I put the letter aside and put my head in my hands. It would serve me right for her to give up now. All this time, I’ve been blaming her. She’s been the bad guy, the one who ruined everything… but I’ve done just as much damage. I know I have.

You’re making me question everything. I felt like I knew where my life was headed, but maybe I’ll be traveling that path alone.

We aren’t finished.

Is there any point in thinking I can convince you of that now? Should I continue to try?

I guess the point now is… I’m not finished. I have a full life ahead of me, and I’m excited about it.

I wanted you to be there to share it with me. I can’t stop you from walking away, though.

I won’t try to anymore, either.

The End

I turn the letter over, face down, to hide those words. Is it over? For good? Has she given up on us?