Page 4 of Semi Sweet
Despite the multiple houses, expensive clothing, and other things that Evan had grown up with, he’d always been so kind in the beginning. Sometimes I wasn’t sure if it was real or it had been a ploy to suck me in. I’d become so wary over the years that I know longer trusted what I remembered. Had he taken an interest in my creativity and dreams of being a best seller or did I make it up so it didn’t hurt so bad? I hated the uncertain fog. Was that a trauma response? That momentarily made my fingers stop moving to reflect before I resumed with even more vigor.
“Why do you want to be a published author?” Evan asked one night as Olivia typed away on her laptop. “Like why is this something you want to do for fun?” It seemed like he wanted to understand her better.
“There’s just something about people having this discourse about my characters. I want them to love them as much as I do. I want to go into a bookstore and see all my books on a table. I feel like I’ll mean something if my books make a difference in someone’s lives.”
Evan smiled. “That’s the most Olivia answer I’ve ever heard.” When they first started dating Evan thought that Olivia was quirky and complex. “But if it makes you happy, then who am I to judge?”
Back then, when I’d still shared my plot ideas or openly entered writing contests, I hadn’t considered that comment to be mean. Evan’s demeanor changed when he got his corporate job and it had seemed so sudden. Now that time had passed and I was being more honest with myself, his resentment and descent had been much more gradual. There were many bitter remarks that I’d laughed off, explained away. People had tried to warn me. The nostalgia seeped away and was replaced with resentment. A different reason for trying to stifle my tears as I worked.
Olivia’s father was a stern but honest man. He always wanted what was best for his daughters, Allison, Olivia, and Elenore. If you were a hard worker and had goals, he had no problems with you.
“He doesn’t have a plan,” Mr. Hale warned his daughter at the supper table.
“He’s nineteen, Dad,” Olivia tried to insist.
“So are you,” he contested. “And you have a plan. Two plans.”
My dad knew how badly I wanted to be an author, but we’d discussed having other options just in case. I’d gotten my undergraduate degree in English, but I was planning on marketing for grad school in case I tried to get into the industry another way.
I think my dad had a sixth sense and knew that Evan was going to rely on family money until he had no other choice. Evan didn’t go to school. He took money from his grandparents to pay his rent. They’d all but picked out the place where he lived, way more lavish than someone our age should have been able to afford. I looked around our living room and should have appreciated what I had, but I currently wasn’t feeling very grateful.
“Move in with me. My place is so big, too big for just me.”
Olivia was surprised at his urgency. They were still teenagers. They’d only been together for two years. “I’m not sure I could help you pay the rent.”
“No need. My grandparents bought it outright. They only ask that I get more involved in the company. I figured I should start easing in.”
Olivia had reservations, but she also thought she was with the love of her life. “I don’t think you can just ease in,” she said. “Cash Value Market is a big company that makes important decisions daily. If they wait too long, they lose money.”
Evan didn’t seem concerned. “Most of those people aren’t related to the CEO, COO, and CFO.”
I’d stopped trying to convince him after that. It was obvious that he’d made up his mind. He made it sound so easy and the more he told me and other people about it, the more I fell into a false sense of security. The more I believed it. Maybe falling into denial was a better way to describe it. The bitter taste of anger with myself was hard to choke down as I started writing again.
“If I live with him, I’ll be able to focus on paying off my student loans,” Olivia attempted to convince her parents.
“You could do the same thing here,” her mother said.
“You’re nineteen,” Mr. Hale scolded. “I forbid it.”
“What if I do it anyway?” Olivia asked.
Mr. Hale looked at her gravely. “Don’t come back.”
I didn’t consider myself a defiant child. Before Evan came along, my parents and I never fought. My dad only made living with Evan more desirable by trying to deny me it. Now I was convinced that the Quittero lifestyle had bewitched me. I saw what money could give me. My dad just wanted me to work for it, not sleep with someone to get there.
In the beginning I was too preoccupied with my freedom and the perks from living with Evan to miss my sisters. I had financial stability! How could my father be upset by that? On paper, my life looked like it was going to be perfect. I began to type so furiously I wondered if I’d break my keyboard.
Geraldo Quittero passed away when Evan and Olivia turned twenty. His role within the company had changed over the years, but he’d been in quality control before he’d gotten feeble. Positions were shuffled around after his death. Even Uncle Gio got more responsibilities despite having a store of his own. There was an opening at corporate and Evan no longer had the option to just ease into the company. He hung up his polo and traded it in for a suit.
I wish I could tell all the people who mocked me and were jealous of me that this had changed my life for the better. Technically Evan made more money, not that we needed it with what was bequeathed to him. No, the moment Evan’s grandfather was dead and buried was when the Evan that made me swoon as a teen died with him.The replacement was foreign and alien, polished and styled in Armani.
No more longboarding or pretending to give a crap about my story ideas. He was too distinguished for fun. Too tired to do anything spontaneous. Now he came home from work and drank too much bourbon and watched political news shows. Somehow I’d started a relationship with a middle-aged man. This time I didn’t fight it when the tears wanted to spill.
“I’m worried about you!” Olivia pleaded. “I feel like you are changing.”
Evan stared at her quizzically. “What are you talking about? Everything is fine.”
“Tell me and I’ll help you. Did your grandmother make you feel guilty for waiting so long to shift to corporate? Was it your grandfather’s dying wish for you to go all in? If you think I’m putting pressure on you to work so hard, I assure you, it’s not my intent.”
