Livvy by Lori L. Otto Read Free Book Online Page A

to sell some paintings. I’ll talk to some of the professors at school and see if they know of any good agents.”
    “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you don’t have a whole lot in storage,” he says softly.
    “I have enough,” I start. “And I’m going to start painting at the studio at Yale. They’re open all night. Plus,” I say, taking a deep breath to expel the next sentence as quickly and incoherently as possible, “I think I’ll try to find buyers for the series in the loft.” Mom’s fork clanks against her plate. Dad is more graceful, setting it down softly on his napkin. Matty puts his hand on my arm.
    “Livvy, I know how deeply personal those are to you,” Mom says.
    “I don’t know that I can bear to look at them every time I’m there, though, Mom.” I have to tighten my stomach muscles to keep my voice from shaking or cracking as I speak. “Especially if I’ll be spending every weekend there.”
    “Well, then we put them in storage,” Dad suggests. “I don’t want you making any impulsive decisions that you’ll regret later.”
    “I’d only regret it if he took me back someday,” I admit. “And I don’t think that’s going to happen.” Both of my parents look at me sympathetically. Dad starts to nod his head.
    “I want you to think about it for a few weeks. Okay?”
    “That’s fine,” I tell him.
    “And you don’t have to spend every weekend there, Contessa. Like I told you, you are always welcome here. This is your home. I’ll set up a small studio in Jackson’s old bedroom, if you’d like. We love having you here. “
    “I know, Dad. Thank you.”
    He and I do the dishes together, and he tells me he’s checked the oil in my car and filled it up with gas for me as he helps me get my things together to head back to school.
    “You don’t care that he’s got a mohawk?” I ask him, giving him one more hug before I get in the car.
    “As long as he treats you well, Livvy, no. I don’t care.”
    “I love you, Daddy.” He shuts the door after I settle into the driver’s seat. He knocks on my window before I back out. I press the button to roll it down. “Yes?”
    “Remember. Hair grows back,” he says with a wink. I decide not to mention the piercings and tattoo. I mean, he accepted Jon’s tattoo, anyway.
    “Bye, Dad,” I laugh.
     
    Back at the dorm, Katrina and Rachelle give me all of five minutes to unpack my things before dragging me into the bathroom we share, bottles in hand. “You’re gonna do this with us, right?” Rachelle asks.
    “It’s less permanent than this awful cut, so why not?” I nod and smile. I’ll be ready to remind Dad of that next weekend when he sees the new addition to my own hair.
     
    Emmanuel wasn’t in class the following Tuesday, but he was waiting outside the room before our professor arrived today, just wanting to confirm our date for tonight. He’d taken one of the blue streaks of my hair between his fingers, smiling in approval. A few times during the lecture, I caught him looking my way. Rachelle had noticed, too, pointing it out to me more than once.
    “Are you nervous?” she asks as I get ready. I consider her question, feeling very calm and collected.
    “Nope.”
    “Good, you shouldn’t be,” she says. “The way he couldn’t keep his eyes off you today makes me wonder if he’ll be able to keep his hands off you tonight,” she jokes.
    “He better,” I laugh back, now suddenly feeling anxious. Emmanuel isn’t shy. He is very self-assured and confident. I can tell he’s experienced, more so than I am. What if he does expect something from me tonight? I hadn’t considered that until now. Two friends, talking about photography. Of course I know it’s more than that, but if I just keep telling myself that, it eases my fears.
    “You at least have to let him kiss you,” Katrina says. “He’ll try to kiss you. No doubt.”
    “Did you see how he was watching your lips as your were talking to him