Olivia

by Lori L. Otto

  I sigh, wanting to get my mind off of it. Thinking about college doesn’t make me feel any better, either. I couldn’t leave Jon in Manhattan, could I?

  “Do you think I’ll get in, Dad?” His smile is quick to form as he glances at me briefly over his shoulder.

  “You’re in, if you want to go.”

  “What, you’re going to buy my way in?”

  “It won’t be necessary. I’m sure you’ll get accepted on your own merit, but I’m sure I could get you in.”

  “I don’t want you to do that. I want to do this on my own. Like, if I get in, maybe I’m supposed to go there.”

  “Whatever you want, Contessa. So you liked the program?”

  “It was okay, Dad.” It was actually incredible, but I still think going to school with Jon would be a million times better for us.

  “Dorm life would be a big change for you,” my mom adds.

  “It’s going to be that way anywhere I go, though. It looks like it would be a lot of fun. I like how they put you into different colleges. It makes it feel less intimidating–more like a community of friends or something.”

  “That did look like fun,” she agrees. “I’d miss you so much!”

  “Poppet, this is a short drive,” my dad says. “I’m sure we’d see her often. You’d come home on the weekends, right?”

  I start to feel excited, thinking about it. I know my parents want me to go to Yale. Could I at least consider it? I wouldn’t really leave him behind. I mean, I’d definitely come home to see Jon, because he wouldn’t really have a place to stay in New Haven while I’m living in the dorms. “Sure,” I tell them. “All the time.” I start to think about future semesters at Yale, when I have my own apartment and Jon can come stay with me over the weekends. Or maybe I’ll stay with him in the city, in the apartment Granna left me. He’d probably have projects to work on after he graduates, so he likely wouldn’t be able to come to Connecticut all the time. Maybe he’d be living in the apartment. Maybe we’d even be engaged by then. My heart dances at the thought.

  What if Jon meets someone else when I’m away in New Haven? My stomach sinks. I’m not sure I can risk that.

  “What was Manny like?” Dad asks, interrupting the daydream.

  “He was really cool. I saw his studio and his work. He’s very talented. He introduced me to a ton of his friends.” I don’t bother to tell them about the liquor they were passing around; I didn’t have any.

  “Good,” he says. “I’m glad you’re opening up your options.” I smile at him in response.

  “Do you think you could drop me off at Jon’s dorm when we get back to the city? Something’s going on with his family.”

  “Anything serious?” Mom asks.

  “I thought you said he had class until six,” Dad adds.

  “He wouldn’t say, Mom, and yes, Dad, he does. I can find something to do for half an hour.”

  “How are you going to get home?”

  “I’ll get a cab. I just want to be there when he gets back to his dorm room.”

  “Be home at eight, Liv.”

  “I’m going to work on my homework with him, though,” I plead with him. “Nine-thirty?”

  “Nine,” he says. “And I’m going to read your essay when you get home.” I stare out the window and roll my eyes. Of course I wasn’t going to do my homework.

  “Fine.”

  CHAPTER 11

  When we reach the Columbia campus, I direct Dad to a parking lot close to Jon’s dorm. Mom gets out of the car to give me a hug.

  “I hope everything’s okay with Jon. If you need anything, let me know.”

  “I’m just worried about him, Mom. He didn’t seem okay last night on the phone.”

  “Let us know... or if you want us to come get you, I’ll talk Jacks into it.”

  “I know. Thanks,” I tell her, embracing her once more. “Love you, Dad!” I say to him as my mother opens her car door, waving once more on my way toward Jon’s building.

  I sit on the front stoop of his dorm, waiting for him. I don’t know his roommates well enough to go to his room. Jon shows up a little after six.

  “Hey, you,” he says as he approaches the doors. “This is a nice surprise.” I stand up and meet him on the edge of the sidewalk, catching him off guard as I press my lips to his. I open my eyes a little, watching his reaction as I scrape his bottom lip with my teeth. We both smile together. “This is just what I needed.” He holds me close, tight, for a long time.

  “What’s going on?” I ask him.

  “Let’s go inside,” he says, his posture slumping a tad as he takes my hand and leads me into the building. His resident advisor nods at me on the way to his room.

  Frederick is sitting at his desk, typing something on his computer, and another guy is lying on the bed, looking at an adult magazine. He quickly throws it on the side of the bed when he sees me enter the room.

  “Hollis, this is Livvy.”

  “So I see,” he says, standing up and nodding at me. “Livvy Holland, in the flesh.” His eyes travel the length of my body–twice.

  “Watch it,” Jon says as he sets his bag down on his bed.

  “Nice to meet you,” I tell him.

  “Well?” Frederick says, turning around and acknowledging us. “What’s the latest? Is she out?” Jon shakes his head at him before looking at me.

  “Have a seat,” he says to me with a sad smile, pointing to the only seat on his side of the room. I sit on his twin bed with my back against the wall, kicking off my shoes before pulling my knees into my chest. “I have some bad news.” He sits down next to me, facing me, but talking to everyone in the room. “So, Mom was involved in a hit and run last night.”

  “Is she okay? She’s in the hospital?” I ask him, worried.

  “She hit and ran,” he tells me dryly. “She’s in jail.”

  “Oh, my God. Where are your brothers?”

  “Yeah,” he sighs. “Social services picked them up last night. Apparently, they’d been alone for two days. She got fired and went on a bender that ended when she rounded a corner and clipped a parked car.”

  “Whose car was she driving?”

  “A friend’s. A boyfriend? I don’t know the guy.”

  “She was drunk?”

  “Luckily,” he says, “she’d stopped drinking early in the day. Her blood alcohol was below the legal limit. If there’s any good news, it’s that. But none of this is good news.”

  “Yeah,” I say, stunned. “Wait, your brothers were alone for two days?”

  He stares at me seriously.

  “I should have let you go over there,” I tell him, feeling awful that I’d convinced him to spend most of his free time over the weekend with me.

  “If I’d wanted to go, Liv, I would have. I thought since they didn’t call, they didn’t need me. It turns out, Will didn’t call because he didn’t want me fighting with Mom again.”

  “Well, how long is social services going to keep your brothers?”

  “I don’t know,” he tells me. “They’re researching the case.”

  “Can you get them?”

  “At this point, no. They are researching this from every angle, and they don’t know me from Adam.”

  “Well, where will they stay?”

  “Foster care,” he says, “until they find that she’s a fit parent.”

  The room is silent. I certainly don’t know what to say, but I think about Max and wonder what his young mind must be thinking.

  “Are Will and Max together?”

  “Right now they are. I talked to Will on the phone. Max wouldn’t stop crying. He’s really scared.”

  “Jon,” Frederick begins, “you’ve told me before that you weren’t so sure your mom was a fit parent. Isn’t that exactly what your last fight was over?”

  “Yeah,” he says, not at all humored by the situation. I wasn’t even aware that they were fighting, and feel a little left out.

  “So what if they agree wit
h you?” he asks. I watch Jon’s face, noting the defined lines on his forehead as I take his hand in mine. He holds on tightly, looking down at the bedspread.

  “I don’t know... I apply for custody? I don’t know how that works. I could be their legal guardian.”

  “But how are you going to go to school and raise your brothers? How are you going to pay bills?” Hollis asks.

  “Maybe I don’t go to school,” he says quietly.

  “Jon,” I tell him in disbelief. “This is what you’ve worked your whole life for.”

  “Well, I didn’t know that my brothers would be in a predicament where they wouldn’t have a parent to raise them at all. Plans change.”

  “Is there no one else?”

  “Mom has a sister in Utah.”

  “Have you talked to her?”

  “Yeah, she’s actually flying up tomorrow to bail Mom out.”

  “Jon, I could ask my dad–”

  “Liv.”

  “I’m just putting it out there.”

  “Well, don’t. It’s bad enough that they have to know about it at all.”

  “Jon, don’t be ashamed of this,” Frederick tells him. “Everyone messes up. Maybe this is what she needs to happen to get her life back on track.”

  He shakes his head in disagreement. “She’s not gonna change.”

  “Even when her kids have been taken from her?” I ask, trying to talk some sense into him, to give him some bit of hope.

  “All she’s done since I left for school, Olivia, is complain to me about how hard it is raising them alone. She’s probably living it up in her jail cell. That’s her freedom,” he half-jokes.

  “Maybe your aunt can help her.” I rub his arm with my other hand, wishing I had something better to say to him.

  “Maybe.” He tries to smile at me and leans in for a quick kiss. “I hope she can.”

  Hollis stands up and stretches, grabbing a piece of paper from his desk and balling it up, throwing it at Frederick. “Fred and I were going to go grab a bite. You guys want to come?”

  “I’m not hungry,” Jon says, then quickly amends his answer. “Did you want to go?” he asks. “We can go.”

  “No, no. I’m fine.”

  “Can we trust you two alone?” Hollis teases, giving us a sideways glance as both he and Jon’s other roommate put on their jackets.

  “Probably more than I could trust you alone,” Jon says. “I can’t imagine what you do when the rest of us are gone. Oh, wait, yes I can. The evidence is under your bed.”

  “Screw you,” his roommate says, still smiling. “Don’t touch my porn.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it.” As Jon says this, he sits next to me against the wall and puts his arm around my shoulder. “I have this,” he whispers tauntingly.

  “I bet you’ve had that–” My jaw drops at his assumption. No matter how correct it is, it’s not something I want people talking about.

  Jon’s body becomes rigid, and I watch him closely for his response. “All right, get out before you cross a line.”

  “Calm down,” Hollis says. “I’m just messing with you.” Frederick keeps quiet, but pushes their other roommate out into the hallway.

  “Nice to see you again, Livvy.”

  “Thanks,” I smile at the nicer roommate. There’s something about Hollis that I just don’t like. He closes the door softly behind him. “Where’s your other roommate?”

  “Shu had a death in the family, so he went back to Miami for a funeral.”

  I’m happy that we have some time to ourselves. “Lie down,” I instruct him. “On your stomach. I’m giving you a massage.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I want to,” I tell him with a frown. “I want to do something to make you feel a little better.”

  He kisses me on the cheek and then lies down as I told him to, putting his head on his forearms. He playfully squirms a little as I settle into position against his body. I push up his t-shirt so my hands can touch his skin. Before I begin, I expose his right shoulder blade and kiss the tattoo on the word sleep, and once again on the word dream. It had become a ritual for me, a way to show him my reverence for him and for his devotion to me.

  I talk to him softly as I knead his muscles. “You can’t leave school,” I start. “I know you love your brothers. I know you feel responsible for them... but you’re not.”

  “There just aren’t many options.”

  “I think you need to really talk to your mom about her alcoholism, and about the responsibilities she has as a parent. Her actions are selfish, Jon, but I don’t think she’d want you to give up your future because of her past mistakes. I don’t think that at all.”

  “I’ve tried.”

  “I’m sure you have. But don’t give up on her... and for sure don’t give up on your dreams. Why don’t you take tomorrow night to talk to your aunt and come up with a game plan?”

  “That’s our night,” he says. “I look forward to Wednesdays.”

  “Well, I’m here tonight instead. And we have class to teach on Thursday, if you can make it. And if you can’t, I’m sure I can manage on my own. Or maybe Mom could help. Take some time for your family. It’s okay.”

  Jon turns over on his back, but I maintain my stance sitting on top of him. He takes my hands in his and tugs gently, pulling me to lie against his body. I kiss him, then lay my head on his shoulder as he wraps his arms around me. “I love you, Olivia. I hate that we have to sacrifice our time together, but I really appreciate you understanding.”

  “Sure,” I tell him. “And if you need me, you know where to find me.”

  “I always need you,” he says, nudging me gently with a subtle movement of his whole body. “Get my mind off this. Tell me about Yale.”

  At the moment, I can’t imagine being so far away from Jon. “It was Yale,” I state evenly. “Really nothing special. It was pretty, and the people were nice, but I don’t know that it’s enough to make me want to go there, you know?”

  “No?”

  “I don’t know. Oh, but I did bring you a souvenir,” I tell him, hopping up quickly to get my oversized bag.

  “I’m not wearing a Yale hoodie to Columbia,” he jokes.

  “You don’t have to wear anything,” I retort, pulling out the envelope Manny had given me earlier today.

  “Mmmm...” he says suggestively. “I like the sound of that.” He makes a move to take his shirt off, but I stop him by climbing back on top of him and assuming my previous position of kneeling over his body. He laughs, putting his hands on my thighs.

  “Here,” I say proudly, handing him the picture. He takes it from me quickly, holding it in front of his face, blocking me from seeing his expression. “Well?”

  He moves the photo aside, staring at me wide-eyed. “God, Liv, it looks like you weren’t wearing anything in this picture. Who took this?”

  “I’m wearing a sweater. I just pulled it down over my shoulder.”

  “Who took it?” he whispers, enunciating each word perfectly and slowly.

  “Manny, my tour guide.”

  “There’s no way this Manny is a woman, huh?”

  “No,” I tell him, rolling my eyes. “He’s a photography major.”

  “What, did he lure you into his studio?” He continues without waiting for a response. “Sounds like a burgeoning pervert. I thought New York had hit its quota of sexual predator model scouts. Oh, but he’s in Connecticut,” he corrects himself sarcastically.

  “Wow, stop criminalizing him,” I tell him, taken aback by his response. I expected the picture to cheer him up, but he seems put off by it. “He did this for you.”

  “For me?”

  “Yes, he suggested I take a picture for my boyfriend.”

  “Did he, now?” He laughs a little, looking once again at the photo. “That’s the oldest line in the book, baby.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Sounds a lot less obvious than, ‘Do you have a boyfriend?�
� don’t you think?” he asks.

  “I swear, it was all in the name of art,” I say, blowing him off but starting to wonder if there may be any truth to what he’s saying.

  “I’d bet you my scholarships he’s got a copy of this tucked between his mattresses.”

  “But you worked so hard for those scholarships,” I tease him. “Why would you want to just hand that money over like that? And plus... gross. Manny’s no Hollis.” I crinkle my nose at the thought.

  “Baby, trust me.” He touches the picture softly, and I imagine he’s tracing my face, but I can’t tell. “There is nothing gross about this picture... and all guys are like Hollis, just maybe to a lesser extent.”

  I slap his chest playfully. “You like it?”

  “I love it, Olivia,” he assures me. “Tell me, where was your dad when all of this was happening?”

  “He and Mom were both with the dean.”

  “And what did they say about this photo shoot?”

  “I didn’t tell them.”

  “Good, so there is some instinct that told you this wasn’t okay.”

  “Sure it was okay,” I argue. “But yes, I do know it would not have been a dad-approved activity.”

  “For the record,” he tells me, “this isn’t a boyfriend-approved activity, either–unless I’m holding the camera.”

  “Fine, I’ll take it back.” I snatch it from his hands, but he moves quickly, sitting up to reclaim it.

  “You will do no such thing.” We look at the photo together. “It’s actually pretty good,” he admits, “but I still don’t trust the guy.”

  I consider what he’s said, wondering if he’s jealous. After nearly a year of dating, he’s never once voiced his concern about any other guys. He’s never been the jealous type, and I sense that it’s not his motivation now.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell him, starting to question Manny’s reason for taking the picture, just like Jon had. “I honestly didn’t think anything of it at the time.”

  He smiles and nods. “I’m sure you didn’t.” He sets the picture aside and starts to play with my hair, his eyes staring intently into mine. “Were you alone with him?”

  “For the tour I was, but there was someone else in the studio with us when he took the picture.”