Contessa (73 page)

“
Of course.
”

“
Your dad
’
s not a big Hamlet fan, is he?
”

“
I don
’
t know. He
’
s a voracious reader, like you.
”

“
Was there a topic?
”

“
My topic was to discuss the theme of suicide in the play.
”

“
Good topic,
”
he says, his fingers making quick work of the intro paragraph. He bites his lip as he concentrates, and every once in awhile I see the corners of his lips turn up into a self-satisfied grin. As he writes, I sort the index cards into blank ones and study ones. I don
’
t worry too much about my chemistry test, because if I have any questions this week, I know that I can go to my dad–even if I am mad at him. He wouldn
’
t let me fail my test.
“
Here, read over my shoulder and tell me if it sounds like you at all.
”

I scan his paragraphs–four of them, taking up a whole page–noting a few words that need to change.
“
It
’
s got a much better thesis statement than mine had,
”
I tell him.
“
And I can tell some of these are your SAT words–
”

“
Better start learning them now,
”
he cuts me off, his warning sincere but sweet.

“
Maybe I
’
ll keep one or two in there.
”
I put my hands on his shoulders, and he promptly puts his on top of mine.
“
I
’
m sorry I got us in trouble,
”
I tell him. He looks up and over his shoulder at me, nodding.

“
I
’
m sorry I called you a child and a brat.
”

“
And stupid,
”
I add.

“
I didn
’
t call
you
stupid. Your actions weren
’
t the smartest, though.
”

“
I just want them to trust me,
”
I try to explain.

“
Well, you don
’
t earn trust by doing things behind their backs. Even if what you
’
re doing is completely legit and moral and something they
’
d be happy you were doing. I mean, you probably could have just told them in advance what your plans were, and I bet they would have been okay with them.
”

“
In hindsight.
”
I take a deep breath.
“
Sometimes I just don
’
t want them to know everything about me. Where I am. What I
’
m doing. Who I
’
m with. It
’
s my life.
”
I shrug my shoulders as Jon stands up.

“
I know,
”
he says, turning to pull me into a tight embrace.
“
It
’
s your life, and you
’
re
their
life at this point. Until you
’
re eighteen and move out of their house. And even then, you
’
ll still have moments when you feel they
’
re too involved.
”

“
Ugh,
”
I moan into his chest.

“
And you
’
ll have other moments when you
’
ll wish they were closer.
”

“
I doubt that.
”

“
Try losing a parent, Livvy,
”
he says somberly.

“
I have,
”
I remind him stoically.

He frowns.
“
You
’
re right, I
’
m sorry. But having my father here for sixteen years, and then waking up to a world where he
’
s not there... I
’
ve just become intimately familiar with that feeling. I don
’
t want to say whose loss is greater, but he was my life for much longer. We had so many memories,
and now that
’
s all I have left of him.
”

“
No, I understand,
”
I tell him with a sigh. I don
’
t have any memories of my birth mother at all, and I realize I can
’
t relate to the loss he
’
s suffered. I feel guilty, recognizing that I probably do take my adopted mom and dad for granted sometimes.
“
I
’
m sorry,
”
I whisper.
“
You
’
re probably right.
”
He kisses the top of my head before letting me go. We both go back to the table and finish organizing our things.

“
Shall we?
”
he asks, carefully closing my computer and tucking it in his bag.

“
If we have to.
”

“
We have to,
”
he says, helping to put my backpack on. He takes my hand in his and leads me out of the library.
“
You like to break things, huh?
”
he asks.

“
No,
”
I sigh.
“
I can
’
t believe I did that. Promise me you won
’
t, like, sell your kidney or something to get it fixed.
”

“
I will not sell any part of my body. I
’
m saving it all for you.
”
He jokes, trying to make me smile.
“
I
’
m just going to plead my case with the computer shop. I
’
m ho
ping someone will have pity on
me. Whereas if you were to take it into a shop, they
’
d probably charge you three times as much just because they know your dad has the money.
”

“
If it comes to that, I
’
m sure he
’
ll pay.
”

“
Your dad probably has connections, Liv. If he were to take this somewhere, I guarantee he wouldn
’
t pay a dime. I
’
m just trying to save you from an uncomfortable conversation with him–one where you
’
d have to admit you lost your temper and broke your computer.
”

Even though I know he
’
s right, and he
’
s trying to be nice, it still sounds like he just called me a child–
again
. I
’
m quiet the rest of the way home, barely listening to what are undoubtedly excellent ideas for my Hamlet essay. I don
’
t want him to see me as a child. I realize he hasn
’
t called me Olivia all day, and oddly enough, it hurts my feelings. I start to wonder if he
’
s doing it on purpose.

“
So when your dad talks to you about being grounded, I want you to be humble and sincere and apologetic, okay?
”

“
I know,
”
I tell him.

“
Don
’
t be mad. It
’
s okay. It
’
s one week. It
’
s a week you didn
’
t want to spend with me anyway,
”
he says, mocking my earlier statement.

“
You know I didn
’
t mean that.
”

“
I know you didn
’
t.
”
He smiles and puts his arm around me, walking up the sidewalk to my house. We must be early, because Dad isn
’
t waiting outside, monitoring my every move.
“
Can I kiss you?
”

I shrug, eyeing the door.
“
I guess so.
”
He turns his back to the door to block our embrace, just in case my parents come outside. He kisses me slowly, and I
’
m sure he
’
s making it count since it will be our last for awhile. When he pulls away, I tug his shirt, bringing him back to me once more for a few more sweet kisses.
“
I
’
m sorry about today.
”

“
It
’
s okay. We
’
re learning.
”
He laughs lightly.
“
I
’
m sorry I was mean, too. I was just frustrated.
”

“
Understandably so,
”
I admit.
“
It
was
kind of stupid.
”

“
Let
’
s just put it behind us and move forward, Olivia. Okay?
”
My smile is immediate as I nod my head in assent.

“
I love you.
”

“
Love you, too, baby. Go knock
‘
em dead with that Hamlet essay.
”

“
Yeah, I hope I can maintain the quality.
”

“
I have no doubt you will. You
’
re a smart girl, Liv. Go with it.
”

“
You really think I
’
m smart?
”
I ask him.
“
Why do I have to have a tutor, if I
’
m so smart?
”

“
Of course you
’
re smart,
”
he says, as if my suggestion is preposterous.
“
You skipped a grade, remember, Liv? And you
’
re taking advanced placement classes on top of that, at the best school in Manhattan. This isn
’
t easy work, and I don
’
t tutor you much. You get this on your own. My role is to keep you focused. I
’
m not sure how I manage to do that, but somehow, it works, huh?
”

“
Yeah, it does. I appreciate your help.
”

“
I
’
d do anything for you, Olivia. Anything at all.
”

“
Me, too,
”
I say, although I don
’
t know what I could ever possibly do for him. He is so self-sufficient, and he never seems to need anything.

“
Alright. Go be your sweet self. Tell your dad I
’
m sorry, too, if needed. I hope I didn
’
t do anything to make things worse.
”

“
Okay. Have a good week.
”
We finally let go of one another and I head up the steps to the door.

“
Sneak me an email or text and let me know the details of your punishment,
”
he says softly,
“
because the thought of being away from you for a week kind of sucks.
”

“
I know.
”
I smile and wave from the doorway.
“
I will.
”

“
Bye, Liv.
”

“
Bye.
”

The grounding lasted longer than a week. Jon
’
s attempt at getting the computer fixed didn
’
t work, so I finally had to admit the truth to my dad. During the week I
’
d been without my own Mac, I had concocted a pretty decent story of my own, but in the end, I decided not to lie. I
’
d already been in enough trouble, and didn
’
t want the chance of getting caught.