Livvy (50 page)

“Shit,” I hear him say under his breath.

“What?” I ask, looking at him again.

“Don’t look to your right, Tessa. Take another step straight toward me.”

“There’s another one, Jack,” I hear Jon say, causing me to whip my head to the right, just as Dad asked me not to. Sure enough, another snake just like this one is watching me in the same manner.

I scream again, this time taking off in a sprint down the hill. I breeze past my dad, whose eyes are trained on the second viper. Jon glances back and forth between Dad and the snake. “Dad, run. Go, Jon. Just go!”

I hear Jon right behind me, and after making sure a good distance divides me and the predators, I look back. My dad is walking casually down the hill toward us, and I can hear a little laughter.

“What’s so funny?” I yell at him.

“I’m fairly certain that one was sleeping. He didn’t budge.”

“Well the other one was moving,” I say, deliberately picking up my feet higher as I continue to run down the hill. I don’t stop until I reach the bottom. Jon stopped about halfway down, waiting for Dad with the duffle bag in one hand and a crowbar in the other.

Mom envelops me quickly. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Just out of breath.” Dad and Jon are laughing as they walk together.

“Jacks, hurry,” Mom says.

“Poppet, we’re coming. We’re fine. Jon’s gonna kill anything that comes at us with a crowbar and an empty duffel bag, apparently.”

“Well, I didn’t see a shovel anywhere in the rental, Jack,” Jon says sarcastically. “You should ask for a refund.” Dad puts his hand on Jon’s shoulder until they final hit level ground again.

“I guess I forgot to ask for the body-burying model,” Dad teases. He immediately comes over to me, too, putting his arms around both me and my mother. “Don’t scare me like that again, Tessa,” he says with a sigh.

“I got a good picture of you and Mom,” I tell him.

“Well, I’d hate it if that was your parting gift,” he responds. “Let’s stay on paths from now on. Okay?”

“I’m never getting out of the car again,” I tell them. “Can we go?” Jon opens the door to the backseat and puts the crowbar under the seat. He tosses the bag in, too, then comes over to me. My parents back away, giving us a moment of privacy.

He says nothing, but looks at me as if he has something to say. He puts the pad of his thumb on my earlobe. I close my eyes briefly and nestle into his hand. When I look back up, he moves in for a kiss, massaging the back of my neck while he holds my head to his. He breaks away first, hugging me tightly. I can feel his heart racing.

“Let’s go to some more populated places,” Mom suggests as she climbs into the car. Jon and I follow suit, and he puts his arm around me and lets me rest my head on his shoulder as we make our way around the island.

Floripa, as we’ve learned the island is called by locals, has a few lagoons. I’ve never been in one before, and when we get out of the car and make our way toward the water, I wish I’d brought a swimming suit. There’s a small beach crowded with people, but the people in the water seem to be having so much fun that I wish I could be a part of it. In the summer–their winter–it will probably be too cold for that.

“I don’t think you’ll have snakes to worry about here,” Dad says. “I think Mom and I are going to check out some shops to try to find souvenirs for Jackson and the family. You’re welcome to join us, or–”

“I think we’ll go explore,” I cut him off, having no desire to shop. “If that’s okay.”

“Fine with me,” Jon says. We arrange for a time to meet back up this evening, and head in opposite directions. “Where to?”

“How do we get to the rocks?” I ask him, pointing to huge stones jutting out of the ocean in the distance.

“It looks like a bit of a hike,” he says. “You up for it?” He glances at my shoes, impressed to see that I’ve donned a pair of sneakers with my dress.

“Let’s go.” After getting directions from a group of people coming toward us, we start walking. I take quite a few pictures within the first half hour, finally coming to terms with the fact that I should probably be more selective with my photography since we still have hours left in the day. When I put away the camera, Jon offers to carry it for me. We hadn’t said more than twenty words to one another since we started our walk, both of us ignoring the lingering tension from this morning.

“So is now a good time to talk?” he finally asks me.

“Sure,” I tell him, remembering easily where we left off and feeling the need to recap. “You were telling me how insecure you were about our relationship, and I was trying to reinforce to you that I’ve done everything possible to make you understand how much I want to make this work. If what I’ve already done hasn’t convinced you of that, what more do you need? I’ll do it. Do you need to see it in action every day? Do you need to wake up with me every morning? If you’re this insecure, then why are you telling me to come here for the summer? Staying in New York seems to be the right choice for us–”

“That isn’t what I was thinking or implying, Liv. Shit,” he says with a sigh. “You know what? I shouldn’t have brought up being insecure. I certainly wasn’t referring to anything that’s happened in our past, though. I wouldn’t do that.”

“Then what were you saying?”

“I don’t know.” He’s quiet, navigating over the big rocks that take us further out into the ocean. He offers his hand once, but I don’t take it, determined to make it there on my own. A couple times, we literally have to jump to make it from one to the next. If my mind wasn’t on our argument, I’d probably be scared, but I feel strangely adventurous today.
I survived a snake attack, after all.
I laugh to myself, remembering Dad telling me that one was sleeping. I must have looked silly up there.

When we reach the last rock–a big one that barely juts out of the water but is big enough for us both to sit atop–he stares out at the horizon. “I’m not insecure,” he says finally. “Jealous, maybe. Not insecure.”

I slip my fingers through his, but he doesn’t hold on. Instead, he puts his arm across my shoulders and kisses my temple. After that, he puts my things down and sits down on the rock. I join him seconds later. He scoots over so his arm is touching mine. I take my shoes off, setting them behind me as I dip my toes into the cool water. Jon does the same.

“I think I know what’s going on. You’re afraid. That’s it.”

I sigh as I tilt my head to rest on his shoulder. “Yeah,” I admit.

“What are you scared of?”

“I’m scared that I’ll be...
changed
here. That I’ll become someone different.”

“Absolutely you will,” he says, smiling.

“That doesn’t frighten
you
?”

“Not one bit. Are you afraid you won’t love me anymore?”

I shake my head. “The other way around. What if I change so much you won’t know me? Or love me?”

Now he laughs out loud. “Impossible. Experiences change us all the time. This trip has changed us, right?”

I nod.

“And this walk to the rocks. It’s an entirely new thing you’ve done. The adrenaline that got you here took more bravery than you knew you had. It did the same to me.
This
changed you.”

“It’s different.”

“Is it? I don’t think so. Fundamentally, people are how they are. At the core, they have their traits and morals and...” His voice trails off, but I wait for him to continue.

“Experiences change the way we see things, or react to things, but they don’t change us at the foundation like that. Well, maybe psychotropic drugs or, like, finding religion do, but you are too smart for drugs, and you know your spirituality already. You’re connected to something greater and divine when you paint.

“This will not change the person you are so much that we stop loving one another. If anything, this will help define you better. What an amazing opportunity Ariana is offering you.”

“I almost wish it was
you
that had this offer,” I tell him.

“No, no,” he says with a light chuckle. “I don’t wish that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to be the one to choose to separate us again.” He meets my eyes and smiles apologetically.

“If the tables were turned, though... would you?” I ask him. “Would you take it?”

“I would,” he says quietly, holding my hand. I can tell he was afraid to admit it. I consider what I would do if the tables were turned, and he left me again. I feel sad as I remember the loneliness I felt when he went to Utah.

“Even if it meant leaving me behind again?”

“We’re bigger than this, Livvy. And my God, baby,” he says emphatically, “we survived last summer. I hate bringing it up, but we weren’t just divided by miles, we had some serious issues. Look at us now. Forgiveness happened. Empathy. A new understanding. We grew. As individuals we grew, and as a couple, too.”

He puts his hand on my cheek and angles my face to his. I move to meet his lips quickly, scratching the nape of his neck lightly with my fingernails.

“I love you, Olivia.” As I try to kiss him again, he stops me and forces me to look him in the eye. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Jon. I just don’t want you to ever love me any less.”

“Ninety days and five-thousand miles couldn’t even begin to chip away at the mountain of affection I have for you, baby.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I
do
know that. I will make whatever assurances you need to make you believe it.”

“Really?”

“Definitely. If you want to wake up with me every morning, let me be your alarm clock. I’ll call you and tell you all the ways I love you until you’re ready to get out of bed.”

“And at night?”

“I’ll tell you bedtime stories of our fairytale future together until you fall asleep. And in every one, I’ll love you a little more.”

“That sounds okay,” I admit coyly, looking at him and waiting for another kiss.

He nods his head as I feel something brush up against my foot. I nearly knock my camera into the ocean as I escape from the water in a panic.

Jon laughs at me.

“There was something in the water,” I tell him urgently. “Get out, Jon.”

“That was my foot, baby. I was trying to be sweet.” I sigh in relief, laughing a little. He moves my bag back to the center of the rock.

“Oh.” I sit back down, but leave my feet up on the stone surface that’s been warmed by the sun. “Don’t try so hard.”

He pulls one leg out of the water so he can face me better and drags his hand up my bare thigh. He massages one leg and kisses the opposite knee. When he looks up, he avows, “I’m going to make you go. And I’m going to make sure you know every day that I love you and am waiting for you.”

I lean into him and kiss him on the lips. He pulls his hand from my leg and puts it behind my head, gently tugging on some strands of hair. “I’m going to hold you to it,” I whisper when he pulls away. I bring his head back to mine, and we kiss some more. I hear his other leg leave the water as he crawls closer toward me.

A few people at the shoreline start to whistle, and I peek out of one eye to see them watching us on the verge of making out. I pull my skirt down to cover my thigh and tuck my head down, ending the kiss. “I think they might start taking pictures soon,” I joke with Jon. “And not because of who I am, but because of what I want to do to show you that I love you.” He laughs, too, helping me up and suggesting we go back to the beach. This time, we hold hands the whole way, providing support to each other as we leap over the gaps of water. My heart is racing by the time we make it to land. It could be the adrenaline again... or it could just be Jon.

CHAPTER 17

Toward the end of the week, Ariana holds an impromptu gathering with us and some of her friends. She has a
lot
of friends. Quite a few of them only speak Portuguese, and my two and a half months of studies have not prepared me for any real conversations. It’s very limiting, as I’m sure many of these people have very interesting things to say.

For a few of them, other people translate our conversations for us. Jon has been talking to a couple of men dressed in nice suits for the past hour. I’d been introduced to them, but was whisked away to meet a girl who’d come to live here from Great Britain with her boyfriend. They are both a little bohemian, and have carefree attitudes towards life. Not at all what I expect from two English people, but I love the way they talk about things that have happened in their lives.

“How did your parents take it when you dropped out of Oxford?” I ask Kora, who is just four years older than I am.

“They were devastated,” she says. “Mum wanted me to be a doctor, but it didn’t interest me. Both of my brothers are, but the thought of being stuck in some sterile hospital environment all of my life was giving me a nervous breakdown. We came here three years ago on holiday. We went home once to get our things.”