Contessa (86 page)

“
I do, Jon,
”
I cry.
“
I love you!
”

“
And what, you lied about the college money, too?
Why
would you
do
that?
”

“
You didn
’
t want it anyway–
”

“
You
’
re right, I didn
’
t–
”

“
And I don
’
t understand why you don
’
t!
”

“
I wouldn
’
t expect you to. You
’
ve had everything delivered on a freaking
platinum
platter all of your life. Have you ever worked for anything? Have you ever not gotten what you wanted?
”

“
All the time!
”

“
Right, right, I forgot, you didn
’
t get the dad you wanted. You disgust me.
”

“
Jon...
”

“
How could you say those things to him? How could you take him for granted? I would do anything to have my father back. He wasn
’
t necessarily a good man, or a great father, but he was my dad. He would have moved heaven and earth for me. Just like your dad does. And to insult him like that...
”

“
I know,
”
I sob.
“
I know I shouldn
’
t have said those things.
”

“
No, you shouldn
’
t have. I
’
m not sure how you
’
ll make this better, Liv. But I know this much: I don
’
t want to see you until you do.
”

“
What do you mean by that?
”

“
We need some time apart. Grow up. Start doing things for someone other than yourself.
”

“
That
’
s not fair, I
’
d do anything for you.
”

“
For one thing, I can
’
t even believe you when you say that. And another thing, I don
’
t know that I could trust you to continue to treat me with any amount of respect or dignity.
”

“
I mean it. And I do respect you.
”

“
Yeah?
”
He picks up my left hand and I close my fist instinctively, thinking he
’
s going to try to take the ring back. He doesn
’
t, though. He opens up my hand, palm up, and starts to press into each of the paint stains.
“
Well, what did your father do to lose your respect?
”
After he
’
s touched every one of them, he throws my hand down.

I think about his question as I wipe more tears away. I think about his gesture even more. He knows I keep the marks for Nate. They
’
re my own tattoos, my permanent reminders of him that I always have with me. I
’
m embarrassed that he
’
s figured it out.
“
Nothing,
”
I whisper.

“
Exactly. Go make it right.
”

“
But I don
’
t know how.
”
My statement isn
’
t meant to garner any sympathy from him. I honestly don
’
t know what I can do to fix things.

“
I
’
d start with some soap and hot water,
”
he says sarcastically, nodding once more to my hand. He turns to walk up the street toward the bus stop.

“
I love you,
”
I call to him. He keeps walking, as if he didn
’
t hear.

But I know he did.

I watch him until he gets on the bus, hoping he
’
ll look back, but he never does.

A cab pulls up in front of my house. I
’
d forgotten that I invited Camille over.

“
Hey, Liv!
”
she waves at me as the taxi pulls away from the curb. After getting a glimpse of my face, she rushes over.
“
What
’
s wrong?
”

“
Everything,
”
I cry to her, finally too weak to stand, falling on my knees to the damp grass. She squats down next to me.

“
What happened? Was that Jon?
”

“
Yeah. He broke up with me.
”

My best friend takes my left hand into hers, examining the ring.
“
You
’
re still wearing it.
”

“
He
’
s mad at me. I screwed up, Camille. Really badly, with everyone.
”

“
What
’
d you do?
”

I begin to try to explain, but so much has happened since I walked through the front door that I can
’
t even find order in things.
How did Jon asking Dad if I could go to prom with him turn into this?

“
I
’
m sure you
’
re making it out to be much worse than it is.
”

“
In most instances, I
’
d agree, but not this one,
”
I cough out through lingering sobs.
“
It
’
s bad.
”

“
Should I go?
”

“
I don
’
t want you to,
”
I tell her,
“
but I have no doubt I
’
m grounded.
”

“
Well, let me get you inside, at least.
”
She helps me to my feet, steadying me as I continue to cry.
“
Livvy, it will all be okay. I promise.
”

“
I said so many things that I can
’
t take back. And I need to. I
have
to. I made Daddy cry,
”
I choke out, crying even harder.
“
He couldn
’
t even look at me. And then he got in a fight with my mom. It
’
s awful.
”

“
Shhh.
”
She tries to comfort me, opening the front door. I can hear my dad in Trey
’
s room, talking to him softly. I
’
m sure this ordeal really affected my brother. There
’
s no way he didn
’
t hear what was going on outside his door. We were all too loud.
I feel even worse.

“
Let
’
s go,
”
Dad says to my brother. He appears in the hallway carrying a duffel bag. He takes a small suitcase from my brother in his left hand. My brother
’
s hand is clutching tightly to Dad
’
s fingers.

“
What–
”

“
Don
’
t upset your brother.
”
That
’
s all he says to me as he brushes past me and Camille. He doesn
’
t even look at me, though. I turn around to watch him grab his keys and usher my brother out the front door.

“
Daddy!
”
I yell after him. Camille and I stand, frozen, only moving as we both shudder when the door slams shut.

“
Oh, crap, Livvy.
”

I bust out crying, even harder than before. My best friend guides me to the couch, putting her arm around me after we sit down. A few times, she tries to say something, but stops herself. In the end, she just lets me get all of my emotions out as I hug a pillow tightly into my stomach. It doesn
’
t make the nausea go away.

“
I feel sick,
”
I finally tell her.

“
Calm down,
”
she says.
“
You
’
re just upset. Take some deep breaths.
”
I try to follow her advice, but my efforts keep getting thwarted as I choke out more tears.
“
My dad left once,
”
she says plainly.
“
He came back after a few days.
”

“
What? A few
days
? My parents haven
’
t been apart in years, Camille. Literally
years
.
”

She frowns at me, trying to be consoling.
“
He
’
s human, though. We all need space sometimes.
”

“
Not him,
”
I argue.
“
He
’
s nothing without his family. He says that all the time.
”

“
He has your brother. He
’
ll be fine.
”

“
I wonder if Mom knows he left.
”
We both sit in silence as my mind lingers on that thought.
“
I need to talk to my mom,
”
I finally tell her.
“
I have to start somewhere.
”

“
Okay,
”
Camille says.
“
I can wait in your room, if you want.
”

“
No. I think it
’
s best if I do this alone.
”

“
Well, you can call me any time. Okay?
”

“
Okay.
”

“
And in fact, I want you to call me. Tonight.
”

“
If I
’
m not grounded, I will. So don
’
t count on a call,
”
I try to joke with her.

“
You
’
ll be alright.
”

“
I
’
m a horrible person.
”
I slump into the couch.

“
You
’
re a good person,
”
she argues, patting my knee.
“
You
are
.
”

I nod, but don
’
t really agree.
“
I
’
ll talk to you later.
”

“
Love you, Liv.
”

“
Thanks, Camille. Love you, too.
”

I try to compose myself, waiting fifteen minutes before venturing up into my mother
’
s room.

“
Mom?
”
I call to her from outside the locked door.

“
Go to your room, Liv,
”
she says, her voice still stifled by sadness.
“
Think about what you
’
ve done today. I
’
ll come down when I
’
m ready to talk to you.
”

“
Mom, I
’
m sorry,
”
I plead with her.

“
That
’
s not enough today. Just go to your room, and don
’
t come out until I tell you to.
”