“
We
’
re busy,
”
I tell him brightly, looking up and leaning into him, kissing his cheek.
“
We were talking about Valentine
’
s Day, remember?
”
“
We
’
re not
that
busy,
”
he says, sticking his hand into my purse. I struggle with him as he wrestles the phone out of my bag and hits the button to answer it. I promptly end the call.
“
Livvy!
”
“
They know not to bother us when we
’
re studying!
”
“
They don
’
t know we
’
re studying,
”
he says.
“
What do you think your dad
’
s going to think we
’
re doing?
”
“
Well, we
’
re not doing anything wrong.
”
Jon grabs the phone from my grasp and calls my dad.
“
What the hell, Liv?
”
he whispers.
“
Here,
”
he says, handing me the phone when Dad answers. I keep my lips pressed together, not saying a word. He takes the phone once more.
“
Jack?
”
I can
’
t hear my dad on the other end of the line, but I get the gist of his mood quickly as Jon stumbles over his responses, clearly shaken.
“
We
’
re, um, at the library. The main one. Yes, sir, the librarian was upset that the phone was ringing. We just wanted to get somewhere that we could talk.
”
And just as he says this, he gets up and walks toward the entrance, leaving me
–
and all of our things
–
behind. I
’
d follow him, except both of our laptops are set up and we have about a half-dozen books spread out between us.
He starts to run his fingers through his hair, but stops, holding the pose as he listens intently. He nods a few times, then looks in my direction and begins to walk back toward me. He doesn
’
t look happy, pulling the phone away from his ear and covering the mouthpiece.
“
He wants to talk to you,
”
he says quietly.
“
Is he mad?
”
“
Just take the phone, Liv.
”
He shoves the phone into my hand and returns to his seat, pulling my chemistry book in front of him and studying the page intently.
“
Hey, Daddy,
”
I say as innocently as I can. Jon glares at me and rolls his eyes as my dad speaks calmly in my ear.
“
Where are you, Livvy?
”
“
At the library.
”
“
Which one?
”
“
The main one, by Bryant Park.
”
“
Why aren
’
t you here watching your brother?
”
“
Because it
’
s Tuesday, and we always study on Tuesdays, remember?
”
I say with a tinge of sarcasm.
“
But you don
’
t go back to school until tomorrow, Tessa. What are you really doing?
”
“
Studying, Dad! I swear!
”
A nearby librarian shushes me, causing quite a few people around us to look in my direction. I tuck my head down and continue the conversation as quietly as my elevated temper will allow.
“
Just because I don
’
t go back until tomorrow doesn
’
t mean I don
’
t have homework to do. We have a chemistry test Friday and I
’
m supposed to write this essay on Hamlet by Thursday.
”
“
And how much do you have written?
”
I ponder lying to him, but I know he
’
ll check.
“
The introductory paragraph.
”
“
I want you home by six.
”
“
But Dad, we haven
’
t eaten. We have until nine, normally.
”
“
Well,
normally
your mother and I know where you are and what you
’
re doing.
Normally
we
’
re not greeted by our older and much more
responsible
niece playing checkers with your brother. Tonight, you
’
ll be home at six and we cooked dinner. You can eat here.
”
“
Jon, too?
”
“
No. I
’
m afraid this is the last you
’
ll see of Jon this week.
”
“
Why?
”
I whisper.
“
We can talk about this tonight when you get home. Wrap up what you
’
re working on. You
’
ve got forty-five minutes.
”
“
Dad!
”
I say a little louder.
“
Forty-five minutes,
”
he reiterates. I hang up on him before saying goodbye.
“
I have to be home at six,
”
I tell Jon, still angry with my dad.
“
I know. And you
’
re grounded for the week.
Awesome
.
”
I can tell he
’
s upset.
“
He told you that?
”
“
Yep.
”
He grabs some index cards and starts writing notes on them.
“
What are you doing?
”
“
Trying to get you prepared for your test. I
’
m going to write down the pages you really need to spend some extra time going over. If you have questions, send me an email, if he lets you.
”
“
Are you mad at me?
”
He puts a cap on the marker he
’
d been using and sets it down, hard.
“
What
’
s the rule, Livvy?
”
“
Keep my grades up?
”
I ask him as I kneel in the chair with my elbows on the table.
“
No. Get your parents to see us as adults. Get your dad to trust me.
”
“
Oh,
that
goal,
”
I tell him innocently, trying to lighten the mood. It doesn
’
t work.
“
Well, you didn
’
t do anything wrong. They shouldn
’
t be mad at you.
”
“
Well, you acting like a child isn
’
t working in my favor.
”
I raise my eyebrows and stare at him, shocked.
“
A
child?
”
“
I understand you
’
re trying to assert your independence with them. It
’
s all a part of growing up, but choosing to ignore his phone call when he has no earthly idea where you are? It
’
s just stupid. It
’
s senseless. If I was your dad, I
’
d ground you for a month. Two weeks for sneaking around behind my back, and two weeks for being a brat about it.
”
“
A
brat?
”
He laughs in disbelief at my outrage.
“
What would you call yourself?
”
“
A girl who just wanted to spend some time with her boyfriend,
”
I tell him angrily, getting up and gathering my things.
“
That
’
s what I
’
d call myself. And yeah, I guess I
’
m
stupid
for wanting that.
”
I push away the archives and grab my chemistry book from him, sending index cards flying around his end of the table.
“
It
’
s a good thing I
’
m grounded, because the last thing I want to do now is spend time
alone
with you this weekend.
”
“
Liv, I
’
m sorry,
”
he starts as he slowly begins to pick up the cards.
“
I just–
”
“
I don
’
t care.
”
I slam the lid to my computer and drop my chemistry book on top of it. I hear a strange noise and we both stop everything.
I hope that isn
’
t what I think it is.
I move the book and Jon lifts the lid of the computer, revealing a severely cracked display.
“
Great,
”
I mumble, throwing myself back into my chair.
“
And now I
will
be grounded for a month.
”
“
Take mine,
”
he says.
“
I
’
m not going to take your computer. You need it.
”
“
Livvy,
”
he says sternly.
“
Take my computer. I don
’
t want you to be grounded for a month. I will figure out how to get this fixed in the meantime.
”
“
It
’
s gonna cost a lot of money.
”
My eyes start to water.
“
Well, we both know I don
’
t have that.
”
He lets out a quick sigh.
“
Give me a few days to try to work something out. If I can
’
t get it done, maybe I
’
ll at least have a good story for you to tell your parents so they don
’
t ground you. My computer
’
s a luxury to me at this point. I
’
ll just go to the library to use their computers like I have been all my life. Just take mine for now.
”
“
Are you sure?
”
“
Yeah. Hey, don
’
t cry,
”
he tries to comfort me.
“
We don
’
t have time for tears. Let
’
s try to move some files over.
”
“
How?
”
I ask him, unable to make any sense of what
’
s on the screen. I stand up to let him sit down.
“
Good point.
”
“
It was just the intro to my essay, which Dad is going to want to see.
”
“
Can you rewrite it on my computer?
”
“
Honestly, I wrote it before Christmas break; I have no idea what it said.
”
That, and I
’
m not good under pressure like this.
“
Hamlet?
”
he asks as he settles into the chair and opens up a blank document.
“
Yeah.
”
“
Can you pick up the cards?
”
he asks, smiling sheepishly, nodding to the mess I
’
d made.