Olivia (11 page)

I can’t not take advantage of this weekend, though.
Jon’s been so patient all summer, and I know the chances of this
happening again are not good. It’s not like this will be a common
occurrence. We both know this. I feel like we deserve another
chance to make this right. We deserve to experience one another
without having to feel immense amounts of guilt and regret about
it.

I’m not sure tonight will provide me with that
opportunity, either, though. I always thought I would tell my
mother when the time came. We’ve had that relationship for years. I
know she would want to know. I know I wouldn’t be in trouble–not
with her. Now my father, that’s another story entirely. I know he’d
want me to remain chaste until I got married at 35, but he is more
realistic than that. As much as I know he suspects something
happened between Jon and me in Greece, I think he has avoided
pushing the issue with me or Matty, not wanting to know the truth
anyway. Surely Matty has a breaking point. I know I do. There are
times when Dad and I are together that I feel like I could tell him
anything. He has a way of making me feel safe, regardless. I know I
could be weak in a moment like that. But again, I think he knows
the truth underneath, and he doesn’t want to believe that his
daughter is sexually active. Moreover, he doesn’t want to believe
his daughter would lie to him. Not after what we’ve been
through.

This time when I blink, a tear does escape.

After meeting me in a parking garage, Jon leads me
to his dorm room. We’d left our overnight bags in the trunk of my
car. He insisted on hanging up his button down shirt though,
wanting to wear it tonight when we go out with Abram.

“
You don’t have to dress up
tonight, Jon,” I tell him as we ascend the steps to get to his
room. “You’ll be with me. You can get in anywhere.”

“
Oh, so you’re bringing your clout
with us tonight, I see.”

“
Might as well.
I’m
wearing jeans–”

“
Really?” he asks, stopping us both
when we hit the second floor. A long hallway spans before
us.

“
Yes. I didn’t want to bring that
many outfits. Plus, I’ve got to convince Abram to stop wearing
those stuffy, ill-fitting suits. He looks like such a
dork.”

“
Why do you care what he looks
like?”

“
I guess I don’t,” I tell Jon as he
takes my hand and ambles slowly down the hall. “But he should just
dress...
better
... I don’t
know.”

“
Do you say stuff like that about
me behind my back?”

“
Nope,” I tell him honestly. “I
love how you dress, and I’ll love it even more when you’ll feel
comfortable walking around in your sexy undershirt, showing the
world your tattoo.”

“
I have the perfect backwards cap
for that,” he jokes with me.

“
And we’ll do this,” I suggest,
tugging on his loose-fitting jeans and exposing the waistline of
his boxers. “Hey, I like those,” I tell him as I trace the garment
slowly from one side of his back to the other, feeling the soft
cotton.

“
Good. I bought them for your
benefit.” He pulls his pants back up to his waist.

“
You don’t need to spend your money
on that kind of stuff. I’d be happy to pay for things only I’m
going to see,” I offer.

“
How would you get away with buying
men’s underwear, anyway?”

“
I don’t have to give my dad
itemized receipts or anything... he just looks at the statements
and tells me if I’m spending too much.”

“
And what’s too much?”

“
I don’t know. Apparently I haven’t
reached that amount yet,” I shrug.

“
So you don’t really have any hand
in managing your money?” I glare at him in response to this topic.
He knows I hate talking about my money handling opportunities, so
he just smiles, nods and drops it–but it’s obvious he’s saving it
for another time.

I’m sure it’s something I should worry about
someday.

Jon knocks on his dorm room door before he enters. I
follow him cautiously, seeing the huge mess on the left side of the
room. Sheets are strewn about on bunk beds and a pile of clothes
lingers in a corner.

“
Jon, this is–”

“
Before you say anything, that’s
where Hollis and Shu sleep.” I step further inside and finally see
the right side. Both beds are neatly made, bookshelves are full and
perfectly organized. This looks more like Jon.

“
Tiny twin beds,” I comment as a
guy emerges from a closet in the corner.

“
It’s not so bad,” Jon assures me.
“At least we don’t have the bunks. And Olivia, this is
Frederick.”

“
Hi.”

“
Livvy Holland,” he says with a
kind smile, offering me his hand to shake. “I bet this is different
from what you’re used to.” He gestures around the room, but mainly
to the messy side.

“
My little brother would fit in
fine,” I assure him. I don’t bother to tell them that my room has
looked like this on more than one occasion. Jon sits down on his
bed, waving me over. He puts his arm around my waist and kisses my
cheek. I’m blushing when I look up at his roommate, but he’s moved
to his desk, and now has his back to us.

“
You’re considering Columbia?” he
asks, still looking away.

“
Oh, um, yes,” I tell him, feeling
Jon’s lips around my earlobe. “I’ve been accepted already.” I nudge
him away, in case Frederick catches us.

“
What would you study?”

“
Art,” I answer quickly, looking up
at Jon with a reproving glance. He grins and kisses me.

“
Art,” Jon confirms as he pulls
away, still keeping his eyes trained on mine, “and me,
right?”

“
You wish,” I say to him playfully.
“You’re definitely a big draw to this campus. I don’t like being
away from you,” I whine. Seeing him one night this whole week, and
then for only about fifteen minutes, wasn’t enough.

“
Not all weeks will be like this,
baby,” he assures me. “I just wanted to get settled in, find a
routine, find all of my
classes
... you
know?”

“
I know. I just got spoiled over
the summer, I guess.”

“
Me, too,” he agrees in a whisper.
“But we can start making up for lost time tonight.” I nod, unable
to hide my wide grin. “Making up for lost
months
, in fact.”

“
True,” I tell him just before his
lips press against mine once more, this time showing his need and
hunger. It makes me a little nervous.

“
I’ll leave you two alone,” his
roommate says.

A few short, sweet kisses linger before Jon
addresses Frederick, but he keeps his focus on me for a few seconds
longer, even after he stands up off the bed. “Nah, we’re on our way
out,” he says, taking my hand in his.

“
It was nice to meet you,” I tell
Frederick as we begin to leave.

“
Don’t forget this!” he yells after
us, handing Jon a large, black tube. “After all the trouble you
went through...”

“
Thanks, man,” Jon says, tucking
the tube under his arm.

“
What’s that?” I ask
him.

“
A surprise.” He moves the long
container to the other side of his body–away from me–as soon as he
sees my hands move toward it. “I’m not sure if you know what the
word
surprise
means. I’m saving this for
tonight.”

“
Ohhh. It’s nothing... weird, is
it?” He lifts his eyebrows, urging me to press him for more
information. “Never mind.”

“
No,” he laughs, “don’t
never mind
me. What weird things do you
have in mind?”

I jab him in the rib as we walk toward a tall
building, signaling to him that I won’t be indulging him in his
perverse conversation. “I love this campus,” I tell him. “I
definitely want to go here.”

“
Why?” he asks plainly.

“
It’s a great school,” I tell him.
“It’s good enough for you, which means it should be good enough for
me.”

“
Baby, you could go anywhere. Have
you given any more consideration to Yale?”

I bring my finger to my chin in mock thought for
three seconds. “Yes. I don’t want to go there.”

“
Tell me one good reason why you
don’t want to go there.”

“
You’re not there.”

“
I said
good
reason.”

“
That’s not good
enough?”

“
Olivia,” he says as he opens the
door to the library, “I think you’d get so much more out of the art
program at Yale. Don’t you?” The smell of the library reminds me of
our time at the Public Library in Midtown.
Yes, I
want to be here with him.

“
There’s a good program here, too.
Plus, who knows if I can get back into it–”

“
Liv, you
will
get back into it. You love painting. It’s a part
of you.”

“
It doesn’t have to be,” I tell him
with a shrug. “Maybe it’s not.”

“
This is just a minor hurdle,
Olivia. It will come back, and you’ll get back into your routine,
and be better than ever.” His voice has confidence that I don’t
feel.

“
I’m afraid I can’t do it
anymore.”

“
You haven’t tried.”

“
I try every week!” I tell him, a
little louder than I’d intended. A few students look in our
direction. Jon shakes his head at me. “I do, too.”

“
We’ll be at the loft tonight.
Maybe we should try then.”

“
Do you hear yourself?” I ask him,
looking at him like he’s crazy. “We have been planning this night
for weeks, and now you’re suggesting I just go there and
paint
? I thought you wanted
this...”

“
I do, baby, but I want to help you
find your way back there, too. You’re happier when you
paint.”

“
I’ve never been happier than I am
now, with you. You can’t see that?” He looks down at me and puts
his arms around me, giving me a kiss and tapping my backside with
the tube.

“
I see that,” he whispers. “But
you’re different.”

“
Bad
different?” I can’t hide the fact that he’s starting to offend
me.

“
No. Just
different
different.”

“
If you don’t want to do this
tonight–”

“
Whoa. Stop right there,” he says
as he takes my hands and pulls me into an aisle of books. “I never
meant to give you the impression that I didn’t want to be with you
tonight. I’ve been thinking about this–hell, every day since last
June. No,
before
that! I want you, and I
want us to have a good night that’s free from guilt and sadness,
okay? I want you to know that I’d do anything for you.”

“
I know you would.”

“
And I know you’d do anything for
me.”

“
I would,” I tell him
convincingly.

“
But I want you to do things for
you
, too.”

I study his expression carefully, trying to decipher
his meaning. Finally, I shake my head at him and ask, “What do you
mean?”

“
Olivia, do you want to sleep with
me tonight? Or are you just doing this because you know I want
to?”

“
Of course I want to.”

“
If you take me out of the
equation, would you be wanting to have sex tonight?” I look around,
praying that no one can hear us. We appear to be alone. “Is that
really something you desire?”

“
That’s dumb, Jon,” I tell him. “If
I took you out of the equation, no, I wouldn’t be prowling around,
looking for someone to sleep with me. But that doesn’t mean I don’t
want to be with you tonight. I do. One hundred percent, I
do.”

“
If I told you I wanted to just go
to the movies tonight, like always–if I wanted this to be a regular
date night, where I’m lucky if my hand merely brushes the side of
your breast–how would that make you feel?”

“
I won’t force you to do anything
you don’t want to do,” I tell him confidently. “I just thought you
wanted it.”

He rolls his eyes at me and cocks his head. “You’re
not following me.”

“
No, I’m not. And I’m sorry, but
can we maybe take this conversation outside? I feel like everyone
is listening.”

He glances through the shelves of books on both
sides of us and shakes his head at me, but takes my hand and leads
me back out into the cool autumn day.

“
Want to have a seat?” he asks when
we reach the courtyard.

“
Sure.” I guide him to a patch of
grass directly in the sun and sit down, sitting with my legs
crossed. After he sets the tube aside, he lies back next to me on
his elbows and squints up at the sky.

“
What’s this all about?” I
ask.

He doesn’t look at me when he answers. “I just feel
like fear of rejection or failure or of being a disappointment to
someone are the only things that motivate you these days.”

“
I don’t think that’s true,” I
argue without giving it another thought.