Olivia (52 page)

“
And you want to, with me,” I say
evenly. I should be scared, but I’m only more excited, feeling his
passion for me mixed with a tinge of danger.

“
Ye–”

I act quickly, standing on my tiptoes to reach his
lips. He picks me up and lays me back against his bed, crawling
over me. He places a few kisses down my body, then looks back up at
me, holding the condom a few inches from my face.

“
It’s going to be right here,” he
says, tucking it under the pillow I’m lying on. “If you want me to
wear it, I will.” I nod and swallow, clawing at his torso, wanting
him back against me. “But I’m not going to wear it unless you ask
me to.”

“
Okay,” I whisper.

“
Okay?” he asks again. “At any
point, just stop me.”

“
Stop you from what?” I ask him, my
voice needy. “You haven’t started anything yet,” I remind him as
his arm muscles finally relent and he settles against
me.

His hungry kisses devour me, mine doing the same to
him. I don’t have any second thoughts while he makes love to
me.

“
Livvy!” I jump to alertness,
grabbing the sheet when I realize I’m still undressed. It’s dark
outside.

“
What time is it?” I ask Jon,
moving to the side. I’d fallen asleep on top of him.

“
Does that say seven forty-five or
eight forty-five?” he asks, panicked, looking at an analog clock
hanging on his roommate’s wall. It’s just too dark in the room to
see. He grabs his phone off of his nightstand and checks the time
there. “Seven forty-five,” he says. “Thank god, but get up,” he
says, nudging me.

“
I’m not gonna make it,” I say,
scrambling to find my clothes. He flicks on the lights with the
switch by the door, grabbing his shirt and covering himself up. I
still catch a glimpse of him and grin, momentarily forgetting the
urgency. He’s still turned on. Or he’s turned on
again
.

“
You’ll make it. You could probably
sprint and make it there.”

“
I’m not doing that.” I see myself
in his mirror and gasp. “I cannot go home like this!” I exclaim. “I
have to do something with my hair... do my lips look swollen?” I
ask, panicked, running my fingers along them.

“
Pull your hair back,” he says as
he puts his boxers on, “and yes, they do. So do mine,” he says,
examining his mouth in the mirror. The corners of his lips curl up
as he turns to me and presses them to mine gently. “Better?” he
breathes.

“
I don’t have time for that!” I
tell him.

“
Get ready.” He puts his jeans back
on and opens his door. “I’ll go get a cab.”

“
Put a shirt on!” I demand. “What
if someone recognizes us?” He shuts the door and finds the shirt
again, dragging it over his head quickly. He grabs a Yankee’s ball
cap from Fred’s dresser and tosses it to me.

“
Put that on. Cab,” he states
again, leaving. I’m only about thirty seconds behind him, deciding
I can put lipstick on in the car to try to disguise my raw mouth.
When I reach him, he pulls down on one side of my skirt,
straightening it for me.

“
Thanks,” I say as a taxi pulls up
in front of us. I start toward it hurriedly, but he pulls me back
to him, enveloping me in a tight hug. His embrace restricts my
arms, and I laugh a little.

“
Look at me,” he says. I glance up
from under the brim of the cap and smile. He pulls the hat off
momentarily to kiss me, then playfully tugs it back down, obscuring
my eyes. “Thank
you
,” he says. “I love
you.”

“
I love you, too,” I tell him,
finding it impossible to bite back the smile.

“
Let me know if you make it,” he
says, pushing me gently toward the cab and then stepping around me
to open the door.

“
When
,” I
correct him nervously.

“
Yes, when,” he agrees, shutting
the door. As the car drives away, he holds up two crossed fingers.
After I apply my lipstick, I pull my phone out and stare at it,
watching the minutes tick away as all the stop lights seem to be
working against me. The taxi pulls up to my house with one minute
to spare. I remember to take off the cap just before I open the
door, shoving it into my purse.

I watch as Camille picks away at the sandwich she’d
brought with her. She sighs, keeping her eyes trained on her food
and avoiding me. “He really didn’t talk about me at all? All
week?”

I touch her arm gently. She puts her food down and
turns her hand over to hold mine across the table. Finally, she
looks up at me, her eyes watery and her brow furrowed.

“
No,” I tell her, continuing the
conversation we need to have, that she has to hear. Before Spring
Break, I’d been encouraging her to set Finn free, with the promise
that he’d come back if he loved her. That was before I’d realized
he didn’t. My mission now is to convince her to move on.

“
But did he talk about
Natalia?”

“
No,” I answer. “I didn’t get the
impression that was a long-term thing.”

“
So then there’s hope?”

“
Camille, why do you want him?
There are so many better guys out there than him.”

“
Just because you found one doesn’t
mean there’s an abundance of them.”

“
No, but he’s proof they exist. Did
you really think you’d stay together forever? Through college and
everything?”

“
Yes!” she exclaims. “The only
college I applied to is the one he’s going to–”

“
Camille!”

“
Well, I thought we’d get
married...”

“
Oh, Camille,” I say in a soothing
tone, rubbing her arm. “You don’t want to marry a guy who cheats.
Can you imagine? There’d always be a little resentment about
Natalia, and then you’d never fully trust him. He’d come home from
work late, and that little fact would always be nagging at
you.”

“
I think I could learn to get past
it,” she says as a tear falls down her cheek. I glare across the
cafeteria where Finn sits. His eyes had been focused on us since we
sat down.

I mouth the word ‘jerk’ to him. He nods and shrugs.
He really should be the one having this conversation, with her, but
I know how desperate my best friend is, and I know it would be hard
for a spineless man to sit through that. I roll my eyes at him and
look back at Camille.

“
Is that your phone?” she asks. I
hear the clatter of the vibrating phone against my compact in my
purse and pull it out.

“
Hey!” I say cheerfully to
Jon.

“
You at lunch?”

“
Yeah.”

“
I’m out front, just outside the
gate. Do you think you can come out?”

“
Ummm... I’m not supposed to leave
the campus during the day, but... I guess they’ll never
know.”

“
Okay. See you in a
few.”

I hang up the phone as my eyes beg for Camille’s
forgiveness. “We can go for coffee after school or something,” I
tell her. “My treat. You can cry on my shoulder all you want, but
right now, he shouldn’t see you shed one more tear for him. You’re
better than he is.”

“
I know,” she says, swallowing back
more emotions. “What’s Jon want?”

“
Not sure,” I say, packing up my
things and grabbing my tray. “See you after school. I’ll meet you
at your locker, okay?” She sniffles and nods her head, giving me a
small smile. “That’s better.”

After putting my tray away, I wander down a side
hall and leave through the northern-most door. The school has so
many windows, though, it’s not easy to sneak out, so I don’t really
try. I can’t get into too much trouble if they catch me.

Jon’s standing near the curb with a bright red gift
bag in hand. I smile, wondering what’s inside. “Hi,” I say, my
happiness to see him bubbling over in my step, and then in our
kiss. Every time I think about yesterday, my body responds with a
rapid heartbeat and a telling grin. The hours we spent together in
his dorm on Sunday were the best hours of my life. I’d never felt
closer to him, or more in love with him. I felt bonded to him,
committed. I felt like I was his. It was what he wanted. It was
what I wanted, too. “What’d you get me?” I ask cheekily.

He hesitates, and doesn’t smile. “Wanna walk to your
car? Are you in the private lot?”

“
I can’t skip class,” I tell
him.

“
No, I’m not asking you
to.”

“
Do you need my car?”

“
No, Livvy. Just walk with
me?”

“
Okay. Can I open the
present?”

“
Wait until we cross the street,”
he says, handing me the bag. I peek inside, and immediately see the
plastic container on top. My stomach drops, and I stop walking in
the middle of the street. Jon tugs at my arm, forcing me to move.
“C’mon, it’s fine, baby. Get to the sidewalk at least.”

“
I didn’t take it,” I whisper, more
to myself than to him. “How did I not take it?”

“
I shouldn’t have put them on the
nightstand,” he says. “Take it now,” he instructs me. “There’s a
bottle of water in there.”

I nod quickly as he guides me into the parking
garage. Once we’re inside, I find a bench to sit on, immediately
next to the door. I take out the packet of birth control pills
cautiously, eyeing Sunday’s pill like it betrayed me. My fingers
fumble as I try to punch it through the foil, but it eventually
stops fighting me. Jon opens the water, handing it to me as I pop
the pill on my tongue. I drink half of the bottle because my mouth
feels suddenly dry.

“
It’s fine, though,” I say. Even
though it sounded like a statement, I expect his
confirmation.

“
Yes.” He sits down next to me and
puts his hand on my knee, squeezing it gently. We both stare at the
ground, and he taps his toes to mine, trying to get a response. I’m
too worried to move. My stomach is queasy. “I guess you can only be
so careful,” he says, shaking his head. “It was stupid. I shouldn’t
have asked for that. I’m sorry.”

“
But it’s fine, right?”

“
Yes, Liv. I’m sure it’s
fine.”

I exhale and nod, noticing that the gift bag isn’t
as light as it should be. There’s something else inside. Jon sighs
heavily as I push the paper away to reveal the contents. I pull out
a small box, reading the label aloud. “Plan B,” I say. “What’s
this?” I read the type below.
Emergency
contraceptive.
“The morning-after pill? You said it’s
fine.”

“
It is, baby. I’m sure it
is.”

“
Then why did you give me this if
it’s fine?”

“
For
your
peace of mind,” he says. “I’m confident, Liv. It would be highly
unlikely based on where you are in your cycle,” he says, “and
you’ve been taking the pills regularly until last
night.”

“
But you’re worried?” I ask him.
Obviously, he must be, if he bought this.

“
No,” he reiterates. “I’m not. It’s
just... I don’t know, it’s just a reality these days, Livvy, and
this is exactly the situation this product was made
for.”

“
No, it’s not a reality,” I correct
him. “People lived for thousands of years without needing a
morning-after pill–”

“
Right, because there were
back-alley clinics that would be happy to risk a mother’s life
while aborting a child with a coat hanger. Who needs a
pill?”

“
That’s crass, Jon. That’s
awful
.”

“
I’m sorry, but it’s true. People
have been... you know...”

“
Terminating pregnancies since the
beginning of time? It’s as common as breathing,” I say
sarcastically.

“
That’s not what I’m saying.” He
takes the box and puts it back into the bag. “Let’s not fight about
this, okay?”

“
I don’t need it, though, do I?”
I’m still not sure what to make of it.

“
I don’t think so,” he says softly.
“I just want you to have a choice, that’s all.”

“
I don’t want to make that choice,”
I say, my voice elevated. He angles my face to his and tries to
comfort me with a smile. “What would you do?”

“
I don’t want to tell you what to
do. And honestly, I wouldn’t ask what you decide to do, Livvy. I
don’t think you can possibly be pregnant,” he says, and I swear I
hear his voice waver on the last word, “so in my mind, you never
have to take it.”

“
So you’ll leave me with the
consequences, and the wondering, and the guilt? That’s not
fair!”

He lifts his eyebrows as his eyes wander around the
garage. “I never thought of it that way.” He takes my hand and
weaves his fingers between mine. “You’re right. What would I do?”
he asks softly.

“
Yeah. What would you do, if you
were me?”

The corners of his lips point downward as he shakes
his head. “I wouldn’t take it.” He clears his throat, sounding
choked up, but he stays perfectly composed. “It’s my opinion that a
child is never unwanted in this world, even if its parents choose
to give it up. If my dad had his way, and acted on his gut
instinct, I wouldn’t be here right now.”