Olivia (40 page)

“
We’ll see,” I say with a smile.
Picking up a cloth, I wipe some cookie dough from my brothers
cheek, kissing it after that. “What are you going to do tonight,
Trey?” I ask him.

“
Going to see a movie,” he says,
copying my answer.

“
Which one?”

“
Cars!” he says. I cringe as I look
at my aunt, understanding her unspoken desire for him to watch
any other movie
. We are all sick of that
movie.

“
I think that movie’s broken,” I
lie.

“
Nooo!!” he squeals.

“
She’s just kidding, Trey,” my aunt
says quickly, glaring at me. “Your dad already told me it was
queued up and ready to go. Nikki loves Cars, too.”

“
I tried,” I smile on my way
downstairs.

“
I brought a book,” she calls after
me.

I shower and dress quickly, wanting to be ready when
Jon calls. My phone and purse in hand, I go back upstairs and sit
down at the kitchen table, looking through the dress-up clothes.
Nikki stands next to me, watching my every move. I start putting
bracelets and beads and tiaras on her, making her laugh.

“
What time are my parents coming
home?”

“
Sometime in the morning.” Kelly
looks to see my expression, which is moderate surprise. “It’s been
awhile since they had a night to themselves, hasn’t it?”

“
I guess so, yeah.”

My phone vibrates on the table. “Hey,” I say to Jon,
smiling.

“
Are you ready?”

“
I am. You?”

“
Definitely. I’ll be waiting out in
front of my dorm.”

“
Cool. I’ll see you in ten minutes
or so.”

“
Be careful.” I shove my phone in
my purse and put one more strand of fake pearls over Nikki’s
head.

“
I’ll see you later, if you’re
still up, I guess,” I tell my aunt, passing by her on my way to the
foyer.

“
You still have a curfew?” she
asks, following me to the door but keeping an ever-constant eye on
the kids in the other room.

“
Of course. Midnight.”

“
Midnight? When my girls were
seniors, we let them stay out until one on the weekends.” I raise
my eyebrows at her. “One o’clock, but this stays between us,” she
whispers. “And not a second later.”

“
Deal!” I exclaim, giving her a
hug.

“
I’ll be waiting up.”

“
Okay. Don’t worry about me,
though. And I have my phone, it just won’t be on during the movie,
of course.”

“
Of course.”

I hear her lock the door behind me as I skip to my
car, excited to see Jon and even more excited to give him the
news.

He’s already walking toward my car when I pull up,
his hands hiding something behind his back. He comes around to the
driver side, and I put the car in park to let him behind the wheel.
When I get out, he hands me a bouquet of camellias, tied together
with a ribbon. It looks like a bridesmaid bouquet, and smells sweet
and fresh.

“
Thank you,” I say, a bit taken
aback. His hair is still wet from his shower, and I run my fingers
through it, messing it up. His hands reach to my lower back and
pull me into him so he can kiss me fully.

“
You look nice,” he says. “You
smell amazing.”

“
New shampoo,” I say, shrugging. “I
have a surprise for you, too.”

“
Yeah?”

“
Yeah. My aunt is watching Trey at
my house–my parents are gone for the night. Kelly said I could stay
out until one,” I say, waggling my eyebrows at him.

“
That goes really well with
my
surprise,” he responds.

“
The flowers?”

“
Not the flowers. Go get in the
car, will ya?”

“
Yes, sir!”

As I settle into the cold leather of the passenger
seat, trying to arrange my skirt so that my legs don’t have to come
in direct contact with the fabric, Jon starts driving away from
campus.

“
Hear me out,” he starts. We look
at one another, and I nod my head and put my hand on his as it
rests on the center console. “I found this place in West
Harrison–”

“
Where’s that?”

“
Upstate, about 40 miles from here.
Far enough away from the city.”

“
Far enough for what?”

“
Far enough that we’ll have
privacy. I want to be alone with you tonight, Olivia.”

“
It’s a hotel?”

“
Yeah. A nice one, I checked. And
it has a parking garage with private elevators to rooms, so we
never have to be in any public areas.”

“
You can afford it?”

“
Mom gave me the last month’s rent
to ‘settle her affairs.’ Since you’re letting me use your gallery
space for storage, I’ve got cash for
other
affairs,” he says with a laugh. “We could stay for a few nights, if
we wanted.”

“
Well, we can’t even stay for one,”
I remind him. “We’d have to leave there by, what,
midnight?”

He glances at the clock in the dash. “That gives us
four and a half hours to be together,” he says. “I don’t even think
it will feel rushed.”

I smile nervously at him.

“
You have about thirty-five minutes
to back out–”

“
Drive faster!” I instruct him,
confused that he thinks I’d want to back out. “This is
brilliant!”

“
I don’t know that I’d go that far.
It’s desperation. I’d pretty much do anything.”

“
Well, this is perfect. It seems
like you’ve thought of everything. Thank you.”

“
I’m glad you’re excited. I was
worried you’d be upset with me for making such an
assumption.”

“
Did anything that happened this
afternoon leave any doubt in your mind about how much I want
you?”

“
You did take Camille’s
call–”

“
After the third time she called!”
I remind him. “And you told me to get it!” He laughs and picks up
my hand, kissing the back of it.

“
Can we continue our conversation
from earlier?”

“
Which one?”

“
The one about next year,” he
says.

“
Of course. I can’t wait for next
year! Can you imagine our lives?” I shake my head,
grinning.

He glances over at me quickly. “Liv, are you sure
about Columbia?” He’s quiet when he asks this.

“
Yes! I have no doubts,” I assure
him, squeezing his hand. “It’s all I want.”

“
Why?” he asks.

“
What do you mean,
why
?” I laugh. “It’s a good school, right? You’ve said
so yourself a million times, and–”

“
Baby, it’s a good school for
me
. They have a program that suits my
interests.”

“
Columbia has an art program.” I
look at him closely, unsure of his response.

“
It’s not renowned for its fine
arts program, Olivia. And it’s very competitive.”

“
I couldn’t compete?” I can’t help
but feel offended.

“
I don’t know, Liv. Right now, you
can’t
paint
. I’m not sure what you’ll be
like in six months. And to make a living at it, either in school or
after, you have to be able to maintain a certain level of
productivity.”

“
Please shut up.”

“
What?”

“
I don’t want to talk about that.
You know I’m struggling. You know I’m trying. Please don’t talk
about that.”

“
We need to. It’s your
future–”

“
I thought you would be
happy
about me going to school with you,
but it sounds like you’re not. Earlier, you were fine with it. You
were happy we’d get to be together–
alone
–a
lot
.”

“
Choose Parsons then, Liv. If you
just want to stay in the city, then choose Parsons. You’d be
surrounded by creative people, just like you, and–”

“
I don’t want to be surrounded by
people like me. I want to be with you. The point of staying in New
York is to stay with you.”

“
My fear is that you staying in New
York will have you surrounded not only by people like you, and
people like me, but people like the paparazzi, too. And people like
Abram.”

“
Abram’s fired, and won’t be coming
near me. And if I go to Columbia, well... it’s not like people are
going to be on campus, following my every move. I mean, in that
sense, I think Columbia would be better than Parsons.”

“
If you lived on campus,
maybe–”

“
So then I’ll live on campus. It’s
what the school requires, I just know they make exceptions, and
since I have the loft–”

“
Liv, why are you doing
this?”

“
Doing what?” I ask, glaring at him
as his focus stays on the road in front of us.

“
Sacrificing what you want for me.”
He speaks softly, and I barely hear him over the road noise. “Don’t
do that.”

“
Jon,” I plead, rubbing the back of
his hand with my thumb. “I want you, first and foremost. You’re the
most important thing to me. And, I mean, once I start painting
again, I just need to stick with it. I’m just going to college for
my parents... for the diploma. I don’t need any of that to paint,
and you know it.”

“
Then your reasoning has a
fundamental flaw. Living in your tiny box, leading your sheltered
life, it won’t make you grow and develop as an artist. You have to
live, and experience things, Olivia. An education will change how
you see everything around you. Picking the right school means you
get to focus your efforts on things that are already close to your
heart... things that interest you. Being around other people who
share your interests will expand your mind and bring about
inspiring conversation and challenging opposition that will make
you question yourself, and know yourself better. That’s what’s key
to being an artist.”

I sit silently, releasing his hand and looking out
the side window.

“
I’m not telling you anything you
don’t know, Liv,” he adds quietly. “Donna taught us
that.”

“
Granna said my talent was deeply
ingrained in me. Granna said nothing could ever take that away.” I
swallow, recognizing the irony in that. We’re both silent, letting
that settle in.

“
You’ve led such a sheltered life,”
Jon says, choosing not to pick it apart.

“
I have not,” I argue. “I’ve been
to half the states in America and twenty foreign countries. We
traveled a lot when I was younger. I’ve seen a lot more of the
world than you have.”

“
Seeing things with an undeveloped
mind and collecting stamps in your passport doesn’t mean you’ve
experienced anything in the world. What social injustices were
these countries facing? Or was this a first-world global tour? I
bet the view from the Ritz Carlton doesn’t show any amount of
strife, huh?”

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. What he’s saying
is hurtful, and meant to be that way. “What is with you? Everything
was great this afternoon. It was perfect. Is there some reason you
don’t want me to go to Columbia?”

“
I don’t want you to sacrifice who
you are.”

“
I’m not.”

“
Who are you?” he asks,
animated.

“
I’m Livvy Holland. The girl you’ve
been dating for a year and a half. The same girl you sat next to
for years at Nate’s Art Room.”

“
But you’re
not
the same girl.” He bites his lip after he says it.
I wait for an explanation, but it doesn’t come.

We’re both quiet as we arrive in West Harrison. Jon
parks my car in the drive and leaves it running as he gets out to
check in. I send Camille a text message, checking in with her. I
also mention that Jon and I are fighting.

“
Wouldn’t it be
cool if we could be single together?”
is her response. I
stuff my phone in my purse. That wouldn’t be cool at all. I don’t
want to be single. I don’t want to be without Jon.

Am I different? Have I changed? Hasn’t he changed
me?

Does he not like who I’ve
become?
I fight back the tears, feeling suddenly inadequate
and unsure what to do about it.
Is he right about
me?

“
Ready?” Jon asks when he gets back
in the car. I’m sure he can feel the tension in the air as much as
I can.

“
Sure.” He drives around the back
to the parking garage and continues to the fourth level. He parks
close to the doors leading into the building. I grab my purse and
the flowers on my way out. He takes my hand, but neither of us says
a word as we navigate the hallway, both of us walking with our
heads angled to the floor. I realize I’m grinding my teeth when we
get to the room.

“
Olivia, please don’t be mad at me.
Not tonight.”

I cross the room and sit on the bed, throwing my
purse into a nearby chair and studying the flowers intently,
touching the petals. I have a nearly compulsive desire to start
plucking them off in frustration.