Contessa

  He huffs briefly and stares out the window. “They’ve told you this?” he finally asks.

  I nod. “They love you. They’re going to be so proud to hear that you got accepted. Do you want to come in and tell them yourself?”

  “Not tonight,” he says quickly, still not looking at me. “Remember? You’re not feeling well and need to go to bed.”

  “Right.” I have to lean to see his face. “You’re not mad, are you?”

  A tense line defines his mouth when he finally looks in my direction. “I’m not feeling well, either.”

  “But I feel fine,” I remind him.

  “I don’t,” he reiterates as we pull up to my house. Glancing at his watch, he lets me know that we’re twelve minutes late.

  “Walk me to the door?”

  “No, thanks. Not tonight.”

  “Then kiss me here,” I bargain with him. He puts his hands on my cheeks and pulls my head toward his. Before we kiss, before I close my eyes, I see his shut tight. I place my hands on his upper arms. His entire body is tense as my lips move against his. “Don’t worry,” I whisper when he finally releases me. “We’re not going to get in trouble.”

  “Okay,” he answers simply.

  “I’ll call you later. Okay?”

  “That’s fine. Good night.” He hands me the box of cupcakes for my family.

  “Night, Jon. I love you.”

  “You too, Liv.” I get out of the car and start walking up the sidewalk when I realize Jon didn’t even take his birthday cupcake. The cab is a block away, and since I’m already so late, I decide not to chase it down.

  When I walk in the front door, I put the small box of desserts on the table next to the door. Mom peeks her head through the kitchen archway and says hi.

  “Hey, Mom,” I say solemnly, keeping my promise to Jon. “Kelly sent cupcakes for everyone. I’m thinking I’m going to just head to bed. It’s been a long day.”

  “Alright,” she says. That was easier than I thought it would be.

  Happy with my performance I bounce down the steps to the basement and skip to my room. “Hey, Dad!” I say, completely surprised to find him sitting on my bed. “Uhhh, what’s up?”

  “Come sit down,” he says.

  “What’s going on?” I smile innocently, overanalyzing my own actions for fear of giving myself away.

  “What did you do tonight?”

  “It’s Jon’s birthday. Remember, you said we could go out, and–”

  “I know, you’re only a little late, and Kelly called. I’m not upset about the time.”

  “Oh. Okay. We went to dinner and then we went for cupcakes.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “So I don’t smell alcohol on you at all?”

  “No,” I tell him, offended by the suggestion. “I can’t drink.”

  “I know that, Tessa. But I do smell it. You weren’t drinking tonight?”

  “No.”

  “So why do you smell like that?”

  “Like what? I smell like normal.”

  “Livvy.”

  “Okay, well before you get mad, let me explain.” He sighs loudly and rubs his forehead in frustration. “We weren’t just celebrating his birthday–”

  “Correct me if I’m wrong, but he only turned eighteen today, not twenty-one.”

  “Dad, will you give me a chance?”

  “Go on.”

  “He got his acceptance to Columbia, Dad!”

  My dad’s expression softens slightly as a faint smile forms across his lips. “That’s great, Tessa, but that’s no reason to drink. You’re only sixteen. He’s too young. What place even served you?”

  “Dad, I didn’t drink,” I lie. “Jon’s uncle owns a bar. He wanted him to stop by for a drink–just one drink, that’s all–to celebrate. He said his dad would have wanted to celebrate this special occasion. He wouldn’t let me drink, though.”

  “So he drank?”

  “Just one little drink, Dad.”

  “A shot?”

  “I guess, yeah. Just one, and he was fine. Then we went to dinner, and he was perfectly fine.”

  “I put my trust in him to take care of you while you’re together. Whether or not he seemed ‘perfectly fine,’ what he did is not acceptable in my eyes, Liv.”

  “I was fine, Dad. He did take care of me. He wasn’t driving. He’d never have had anything if he was driving, Dad, I know that. And on top of that, I know how you feel about it, and I wouldn’t have gotten in the car with him. I promise.”

  “This is, well, it’s a little disappointing,” he says quietly, and I feel bad for Jon, who has spent months trying to earn the respect of my father.

  “Dad, I think you’re over-reacting.”

  He raises his eyebrows at me, staying silent, waiting for me to continue.

  “It was supervised,” I tell him, “and it was no different than you letting us have a glass of champagne on New Year’s Eve.”

  “It’s very different, Olivia,” he says, now audibly frustrated. “Then, you were safe at home. Then, you had your cousin keeping an eye on your activities. Then, I knew exactly where you were and who you were with.”

  “Well, what if his mom didn’t approve of him drinking that night?”

  “I’ll have you know, Tessa, that we cleared it with her first. One drink at midnight.”

  “Of course you did. I just don’t see why you’re mad about him having one drink tonight. You’re not his father.”

  “I only care because you were with him. I mean, what if he had let you drink tonight?”

  “So what if he had?” I counter quickly.

  “Did he?” he nearly interrupts, obviously trying to catch me off guard.

  “No!” I state once more. “But if he had, Dad, what are you saying? That I’m such an irresponsible child that I wouldn’t know how to behave? That I’d run off with strangers, or start snorting blow or something?”

  “Okay, now you’re over-reacting. I am your father. I was put on this earth to make sure you make it to adulthood. That’s my job, my responsibility. It’s my purpose in life. And by the time you get there, it’s my personal goal to make sure you’re a functioning, contributing, exceptional member of society.

  “I don’t understand why you feel the need to constantly try to derail me. I’m doing this for your own good–”

  “I. Didn’t. Drink. Tonight. Dad.”

  “I’m sorry, Livvy, but I don’t believe you.”

  “Well, I’m sorry you don’t.”

  “You’re going to sit there and tell me that if I called him right now, he’d tell me you had nothing to drink tonight.”

  “He would.”

  “And would he also tell me that he, himself, had nothing to drink?”

  “Probably–”

  “So then how could I trust him?”

  “Dad, he just wants to impress you. I mean, this wasn’t a big deal. It wasn’t even his idea. That’s the only reason why he may not tell you the truth about what he did tonight. He shouldn’t get in trouble for this.”

  “No one’s getting in trouble, Livvy. But before you can go out with him again, I want to make sure he understands my rules where you’re involved.”

  “Dad, he gets it. He doesn’t need you to tell him again.”

  “Well, he can sit through a reminder.” I roll my eyes at him. “Why were you so animated at Kelly’s shop?”

  “Animated? I don’t think I was animated.” Again, he waits for me to continue. “I don’t know, Dad, I guess I’m just happy for Jon. It’s a big day for him. Can’t I be happy for him?”

  Dad stands up as he nods his head. “Of course you can, Contessa. You should be.”

  “Thank you,” I say stubbornly.

  “Has he gotten word of any scholarships or financial aid?”

  “Nothing yet.” I remember what I’d suggested to Jon in the car and consider telling my father.

  “I’m sure it’s coming,” he
says.

  “You’re sure, like, you know?”

  “Of course I don’t know. I don’t see any reason why he wouldn’t get assistance, though.”

  “You want him to go to Columbia, don’t you, Dad?”

  “Sure I do.” He smiles as he walks to the door. “Invite him over on Saturday,” he adds, “so we can chat.”

  “Alright, Dad,” I agree. Surely he’ll help Jon out with his tuition. I’m so excited about it that it’s all that’s on my mind when I talk to Jon.

  “Are you in trouble?” he asks without saying hello.

  “No,” I tell him. Even though my dad doesn’t believe me, he has no proof, and therefore doesn’t seem to be taking it out on me. He’s always been fair like that. “They’re cool.”

  “Wow. That’s surprising. I can’t believe you pulled that off.”

  “I’m not drunk,” I tell him. “But he does want to talk to you on Saturday before our date.”

  “Oh, great. What about?”

  “I think he’s going to reiterate the rules. Maybe something else, but I don’t want to ruin the surprise. Can you come over a little early so we aren’t late to the movie?”

  “Sure. I had a few things to talk to him about, too.”

  “What?”

  “Well, my senior prom is next month, and I want you to go with me.”

  “I’m pretty sure I can make that decision, Jon,” I tell him, my smile obvious in my tone. “Yes!”

  “I didn’t think I’d get any objection from you,” he adds with a chuckle.

  “Well, they’ll be fine with that.”

  “That’s not all I want, though.”

  “Oh. What else?”

  “I was thinking about getting a room at the hotel.”

  I laugh sarcastically. “They definitely aren’t going to be fine with that.”

  “That’s not what I’m going to ask. There are a bunch of after-parties–one that the school is even hosting. I thought I’d just set the stage and test the waters.”

  “Oh.”

  “How do you feel about that?” he asks.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “I’ll say it again, we don’t have to do anything, Liv. I won’t pressure you. But I’d love to spend as much time with you as possible, and normally, curfews are extended or dropped on prom night.”

  “No, yeah, of course,” I stutter. “I want that.”

  “Okay. Even if he says ‘no’ on Saturday, the idea will be there. We’ll give him some time to reconsider. How does that sound?”

  “Sounds good,” I say with a yawn.

  “Go sleep off that tequila, silly.”

  “Oh, you didn’t get your cupcake.”

  “Save it for me. I’ll have it Saturday.”

  “Okay. I love you, Jon. Happy birthday, and I’m so proud of you.”

  “Thanks, Olivia. I love you, too. Sleep well.”

  CHAPTER 16

  The next day, I fret through all of my classes, anxious to talk to Jon. I’d tried calling him at lunch, but he keeps his phone off at school, so I knew I wouldn’t get a chance to talk to him. I’d made him think everything was fine last night, but with my head now clear, I realize I’ve put him in a really bad situation. He normally tutors some freshmen on Fridays, so he’ll be busy until after dinner tonight.

  “Call me as soon as you get this,” I text him after school.

  “What are you doing tonight?” Camille asks me on my way to my car.

  “Nothing that I know of. Aren’t you seeing Finn?”

  “No, his mom’s getting remarried this weekend, so–”

  “Oh, that’s right. In Boston?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Wanna come over?” I ask, anxious for a distraction to keep my mind off of what I told my dad last night. Although I went to bed thinking he wasn’t angry, I know he has some choice things to say to Jon. And I know Jon’s going to be pretty upset with me.

  “Sure! I’m just going to run home and change.”

  “Okay. I’ll be there in about a half hour.” I make one stop on my way home, returning a handbag that I decided I really didn’t like. My dad’s car is in the drive when I pull up.

  “You’re home early,” I call to him from the doorway, curious as to why he’s here and fearing the worst.

  “Well, Jon called me earlier today,” he says from the kitchen. “He said he had something to talk to me about.” I stand still in the hallway, trying to gauge my dad’s tone.

  “Oh? What was it?”

  “I don’t know, Tessa. We were waiting for you to talk about it. Come in here.”

  I drop my bag in the foyer and walk quickly to the kitchen. “Why are you here?” I ask Jon, feeling my heart pounding in my chest. He’s sitting on a chair at the kitchen table, facing my dad, who’s seated on a stool at the bar. I can feel the tension immediately. Dad looks very serious, but Jon looks upbeat and completely oblivious. Which he is.

  “A couple reasons,” he says as he stands up and hands my dad a small square piece of paper. “First, I want to take Olivia to my senior prom.” I realize the paper is the invitation. My dad looks over it pensively.

  “It’s a month away. A lot can happen between now and then,” my father states. Jon stares at him, confused, waiting for another answer, a better answer.

  “I feel fairly confident I’ll still want her to go,” he says.

  “If you do–and she wants to go–then we can probably work something out.” Dad sighs, his expression still harder than normal, as he continues to examine the printed card.

  “I do,” I tell him as I take a seat in the chair next to Jon’s. He sits down next to me and holds my hand in his. “Of course I want to.”

  “What else did you need to talk about?” Dad asks.

  “If you see at the bottom, Jack, there’s information about an after-party the school is hosting. It’s meant to keep us out of trouble.” He laughs nervously. “All of my friends are staying for that, and I was kind of hoping that Olivia could, too.”

  My dad doesn’t even consider it. “I don’t know, Jon.” He looks up and directly at me. “We might be able to talk about the possibility of extending your curfew for a few hours,” he says, “maybe until one or two, but this all night thing... I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “It’s fully chaperoned, Jack,” Jon explains. “No alcohol or anything.” I close my eyes at the mention of alcohol, knowing what’s coming next.

  “Speaking of alcohol,” my dad begins, predictable as always. I swallow hard, bracing myself. Jon shakes free of my grasp, and I realize I was squeezing his hand very tightly. “Tell me about last night.”

  “I’m not sure what you mean,” my boyfriend says. “I’m not sure what one has to do with the other.”

  “So you didn’t go to a bar last night?” Dad asks.

  I open my eyes in time to see Jon flashing a quick glance in my direction. He answers before I can interject, although I can’t figure out what I would say. “Well, my uncle wanted to see me. He does work in a bar. I got accepted into Columbia,” he explains quietly and cautiously.

  “Did you have a drink?”

  “No sir,” he lies. I watch my dad for his reaction.

  “Livvy told me you did,” he argues. “Is she lying? Or are you?”

  “Dad–”

  “I want Jon to answer me,” he interrupts. I dip my head into my hands.

  “I apologize, sir–”

  “Jack,” he corrects him.

  “Jack, yes, I’m sorry. We each had a drink.” My head snaps up quickly to catch my dad’s hard stare.

  “You... each... had a drink?”

  “Yes–” Jon starts.

  “No–” I try to stop the downward spiral, placing my hand on his arm.

  “No more lies, Livvy!” my dad yells, standing up and pointing at me. “I’ve had it!”

  “We each had two,” Jon tells my father. “I wasn’t aware that she was even taking the second one–”
r />   “Well that just goes to prove my point,” Dad says. “When she is in your care, I expect her to be your first priority! I expect you to know where she is and what she’s doing!”

  “I don’t need to be taken care of, Dad! I’m an adult.”

  “By whose standard?” my father barks back at me.

  “She was standing right behind me,” Jon interrupts and continues. “And I apologize, I would never have given her that second drink. I believe my uncle and I both excluded her from the second one, but she was able to get served anyway.”

  “What about the first? Why the hell did you give my sixteen-year-old daughter any alcohol in the first place?! Do you realize I could have your uncle arrested for this?”

  “I didn’t think she was going to drink it!” Jon yells, feeling cornered and frustrated and worried for his uncle. “She said she didn’t want it, so I never thought she’d actually drink it. Please, don’t–”

  “I didn’t want it,” I tell my dad, trying to get a foothold, “but I took it myself, no one gave it to me. I was just excited for Jon. I was caught up in the moment. He’d just told me he got accepted to Columbia, and–”

  “Then why did you drink it, Olivia, if you didn’t want it?” my dad asks tersely.

  “I don’t know–”

  “That’s not a very adult answer,” he warns me sarcastically. “And why did you lie about it?”

  “I don’t know!” I yell back at him. “Because I don’t think it’s a big deal–”

  “Well, it is.” He’s starting to sound more composed again, and returns to the stool at the bar. He takes a sip of water and clears his throat. “It should have been obvious to you both. It’s a big deal to me and to your mother, and I don’t want it to happen again.”

  “I understand,” Jon says, his jaw taut. “It’s crystal clear. It won’t happen again.”

  “Olivia?”

  “It won’t happen again,” I copy Jon’s response, crossing my arms. “Are we done?” I ask.

  “Not exactly,” Jon says, his eyes on fire, his posture determined. I didn’t expect him to be the one to extend our conversation. “I wanted to talk to your dad about the money.” My boyfriend and father continue to look at each other from across the room.

  “What money?” I ask him, watching my dad’s expression closely.

  “The financial assistance they offered for me to go to Columbia,” he says plainly.