Olivia (16 page)

I wasn’t happy with Granna that night. I remember
that I’d left the Art Room with my father after class without even
telling her goodbye. The next time I saw her, she didn’t let it
pass. She told me that it had hurt her. She had tears in her eyes
when she said it.

Granna was a strong woman. I’d rarely seen her
emotional like that, and I’d felt horrible.

The room seems to have shrunken in size, and that
lone desk at the back of the room feels alive. “I’m going to go get
a smoothie,” I tell Jon, feeling inundated with guilt about how I’d
let Granna down then, and now. “Wanna come?”

“
No, I’ll stay.”

“
Do you want your own?” I
ask.

“
If you get a large, I’ll share,”
he says. “If that’s okay.” He looks up at me as I nod my head. “You
okay?”

“
Yeah, why?”

“
You look pale.”

“
I’m fine.” I grab some cash and my
phone, pocketing them both on my way out the door. I decide to call
my best friend, wanting to get my mind off of that
memory.

“
What do you want?” Finn
asks.

“
Where’s Camille?”

“
Her parents are having a talk with
her.”

“
What’d you do?” I ask.

“
We were making out when they got
home. That’s all.”

“
Just making out?”

“
We’d just started,” he explains.
“If they’d come home three minutes later, I don’t think I’d be
sitting in her room right now.”

I laugh a little. He always seems to get away with
things. I feel like he’s just blessed with good luck.

“
What are you doing?”

“
Physics homework at the Art Room,
but I had to get out of there for a bit.”

“
You went?” he asks,
surprised.

“
I did... but now I’m wishing I
hadn’t. I just feel her presence, and she’s still disappointed in
me.”

“
I doubt that,” Finn says. “Can I
copy your Physics homework tomorrow?” For a second, I’m annoyed
that he’s changed the subject, but then remember why I’d called
Camille. I
want
to forget about
Granna.

“
How do you expect to get in to
college?”

“
Soccer,” he says
confidently.

“
They won’t take an idiot, no
matter how well you can kick a ball around,” I tell him. “Meet me
at 7:30 tomorrow morning and I’ll go over it with you.”

“
Cool.”

“
But can you try to do it on your
own?”

“
Sure, Liv. Sure thing.” I’m
positive he won’t. “Where’s your man?”

“
He’s in the Art Room. I just left
to get a smoothie.”

“
And he can’t make you feel better
about this whole Donna thing?”

“
I don’t want to bring it up to
him,” I admit. “I don’t really want to talk about it at
all.”

“
Well, hey,” he says. “I think it’s
good you went.”

“
Thank you, Finn.” It makes me feel
good to hear him recognize how difficult it was for me to come
here. Most of the time, I don’t think he listens to me, so in the
moments when I know he does, it makes me appreciate his friendship.
“See you before school?”

“
I’ll be there. I’ll tell Camille
you called, too.”

I take my time getting a beverage at the smoothie
shop. After perusing the entire menu, I finally settle on a
concoction I’d never had before. Worried that Jon won’t like it, I
get a more normal flavor for him.

“
I was about to come looking for
you,” Jon says when I return. “I’m finished with my work.” He
raises his eyebrows expectantly, and I hand him his
drink.

“
What does that mean?” I ask
him.

“
You finished with
yours?”

“
No,” I laugh. “I’m not in the
mood.”

“
Let’s go out to the courtyard,” he
says. “I’ll help you finish your homework after art
class.”

“
Okay.” He takes my drink from me,
tasting it. Handing it back, he tries to guess the
ingredients.

“
Peach. Mango. I swear I taste
squash.”

“
Yeah, I didn’t realize I got that
one.” I crinkle my nose. I hate squash. Without asking, he switches
smoothies with me.

Once outside, Jon pushes aside some dead leaves and
sits down against the brick wall. He clears the ground to his
right, and I settle next to him.

“
Donna hardly ever came out here.
Did you notice that?”

I think about it, and he’s right. “This space is
grossly underused,” I say. “You and I used to work out here all the
time when you were teaching me to draw. And my parents and I liked
having late-night picnics out here when my mom used to work late.
Granna thought it was too closed in.”

“
It’s private,” Jon comments. “I
can see why your family would like it. Fresh air with no threat of
photographers. I bet most people don’t even realize it’s
here.”

“
I’m sure they don’t.” The
courtyard is completely enveloped by the building. Three trees
stand tall, but from the street on either block, it just looks like
there is a yard behind our building. The small patch of land gets
sun only a couple of hours a day, so Dad has spent a lot of time
maintaining the lawn–even if it means planting new grass a few
times a year.

“
Does the desk in the back bother
you?”

“
Yeah,” I admit.

“
Want me to move it somewhere
else?”

“
No, no. It’s silly.”

“
I want you to feel comfortable
here, Liv. I want you to feel inspired again.”

“
I’m fine. I don’t want to cry,” I
whisper before clearing my throat. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
I look over at him, leaning up to kiss him. He sets his smoothie
down so he can use both hands to angle my body and put his arms
around me.

“
Two and a half weeks,” he
reiterates when we part. He nudges some hair out of my face with
his nose and kisses my cheek. “When do you think we’ll be able to
be alone again?”

“
I don’t know,” I answer
honestly.

“
After last night...” he says, but
stops. He doesn’t have to say anymore. For the past three
Wednesdays, Jon and his brothers had been welcomed into our home
for dinner. Last night was the first time the brothers and my
parents left me and Jon alone in the basement. We heard the
laughter upstairs while they played board games, and at times it
was like they all forgot we were even there.

The newfound freedom wasn’t wasted on us, but we
also knew any one of them could come downstairs at a moment’s
notice. Although we lay under a blanket–it
was
cold in the basement–we kept all of our clothes
on. Hands and lips explored freely, and there were times when he
had to cover my lips with his to keep me quiet.

It was intense, and my body was weak and relaxed by
the time he had to leave.

“
I want you, Olivia.” The way he
looks at me gives me confidence to try something new. I kiss him
again, but before we part, I decide to give him the sign I’d
promised him. I want him to know, without a doubt, that I want him
the same way. I suck gently on his bottom lip, scraping it lightly
with my teeth before I pull away.

I blush and can’t look at his response as I listen
to the wind rustle in the tree limbs above us. “What was that?” he
asks. I duck my head into my hands, embarrassed.

“
Nothing,” I mumble. “It was my
sign to you. I read that guys like it–”

“
Wow, where are you reading such
things?”

“
Online,” I admit, looking up at
him from behind my lashes. “The girl said it drives men crazy,” I
explain, shaking my head.

“
That girl knows what she’s talking
about. That was sexy as hell, Olivia.”

“
Does it make you feel like I want
you?” I ask him, grinning widely. “That I want to be with
you?”

He puts the palm of his hand against the back of my
head and pulls me to him again. This time, it seems like he offers
his lip to me. When he feels my teeth, he groans into my mouth and
kisses me harder. He slides his other hand under my shirt, pressing
it hard against my chest.

I thought he might find it sexy, but I didn’t think
it would be such a turn on. We’re both breathless this time when he
pulls away, and the way my body feels is completely out of sync
with my rational mind.

“
What if we brought blankets
here–”

“
No,” I say.

“
I just had to ask.” He squints his
eyes, looking apologetic. “What I was going to say is what if we
brought
drop cloths
out here and painted
in the courtyard tonight?”

I laugh at his suggestion, knowing that wasn’t his
original question. “We could turn the flood lights on.”

“
We could.”

“
No, I like this...” I wasn’t
confident in our lesson plan for the night–mainly because I didn’t
think Jon would be able to do the technique quite right–until this
idea came up. “We can show them how colors look altered in
different types of light.”

“
Great idea,” he says, looking at
me proudly. “Will you demonstrate?”

I take a sip of my smoothie and feel my hands start
to tremble lightly. I shake my head, looking down at my feet.

“
It’s okay,” he assures me. “I’ve
got this.” He squeezes my knee before drinking from his cup. He
kisses me again, this time sweetly. It ends quickly.

“
You taste like squash,” I tease
him.

“
Can’t get enough of it now,
huh?”

“
Let’s just say if it was
strawberries, I may have caved in at your request for
blankets.”

“
Yeah, right,” he says as he
stands. I grab the hand he holds out for me and pull myself up.
“Let’s go get set up.”

After the success of last week’s class, it was
easier to go back to the Art Room this week. The kids had a fun
time last Thursday, and tonight, we pulled out the paintings that
they’d done and talked about the colors. As I suspected, the
majority of them noticed the variations. The class was split,
though. Half of them liked their work better last week in the
courtyard, the other half liked it better under the
fluorescents.

When the main lesson began, I returned to the
courtyard by myself until the parents showed up for their kids. I
still don’t want to be confined in that space with no Granna–and
apparently no talent, either.

“
So, tell me more about your show?”
Jon asks as we clean off all the desks after class. He’d obviously
seen my eyes lingering on her desk again. I can tell now that he’s
just trying to keep my mind off Granna, and I don’t
mind.

“
We’re going to have it three weeks
from Friday at some studio in the design district. We’re showing
twenty pieces, in hopes of selling one. I’m supposed to stay in the
background, though,” I explain. “They want to see what the comments
are without knowing the work was done by a sixteen-year-old.” I
smile.

“
Well, you’ll be seventeen by then.
But I guess technically, all the work was done by a
sixteen-year-old. Fifteen, in some cases, right?”

“
A few,” I say proudly.

“
And just how are you going to
blend in?” he says with a laugh.

“
I’m just going to pretend to be a
patron there, with my daddy,” I tell him innocently. “How I’ll keep
Dad from buying them, I don’t know.”

Jon chuckles, taking the cleaning rag from me. “I’m
sorry I can’t go,” he says. “I promised Will I’d go to his game.
It’s homecoming.”

“
No, it’s fine. Maybe I could bring
over desserts or something to your mom’s apartment
after.”

“
We’ll see,” is his response, which
I find odd. He doesn’t notice me staring after him curiously, but I
decide not to press the issue. “Are you ready? I’ve got a seven
o’clock study group in the morning, so I need to get back to the
campus.”

“
Yeah. Want me to drive
you?”

“
You don’t have to.”

“
I want to.”

“
Then sure,” he says, taking my
hand in his. I lock the door behind us after shutting off the
lights. We start walking the two blocks to my house, just like
we’ve always done. He stops me at the corner of the building by the
stairs to the second floor and backs me up to the wall, kissing me.
“I wish you could’ve stayed inside.”

“
Me, too,” I tell him with a frown
as we start walking again. Once at the house, I run inside to tell
my parents that I’m taking him home.

“
Be back by ten?” Dad asks. I look
at my watch and shrug, knowing it’s more than enough time to drive
him to Columbia and back. I don’t argue, simply nodding my head. I
like the casual way Dad is letting loose of my restrictions. It
always comes as a nice surprise to both me and Jon. This was an
hour later than my curfew last year on school nights. I knew it was
wasted tonight, though, since Jon had to be up early and I still
had homework to do.

Jon drives my car to his dorm, like he typically
does. He puts the car in park when we get to the campus. “So we’re
on for dinner and a movie Saturday?” he asks.