EleanorandPark.pdf

For Forest, Jade, Haven and Jerry – and every-one else in the back of the truck

ELEANOR & PARK

Rainbow Rowell

Contents

CoverDedicationTitle Page

August 1986Chapter 1Chapter 2Chapter 3Chapter 4Chapter 5Chapter 6Chapter 7Chapter 8Chapter 9Chapter 10Chapter 11Chapter 12

Chapter 13Chapter 14Chapter 15Chapter 16Chapter 17Chapter 18Chapter 19Chapter 20Chapter 21Chapter 22Chapter 23Chapter 24Chapter 25Chapter 26Chapter 27Chapter 28Chapter 29Chapter 30Chapter 31Chapter 32Chapter 33Chapter 34

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Chapter 35Chapter 36Chapter 37Chapter 38Chapter 39Chapter 40Chapter 41Chapter 42Chapter 43Chapter 44Chapter 45Chapter 46Chapter 47Chapter 48Chapter 49Chapter 50Chapter 51Chapter 52Chapter 53Chapter 54Chapter 55Chapter 56

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Chapter 57Chapter 58

AcknowledgmentsAbout the AuthorCopyright

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He’d stopped trying to bring her back.She only came back when she felt like it, in

dreams and lies and broken-down déjà vu.Like, he’d be driving to work, and he’d see a

girl with red hair standing on the corner – andhe’d swear, for half a choking moment, that itwas her.

Then he’d see that the girl’s hair was moreblond than red.

And that she was holding a cigarette … Andwearing a Sex Pistols T-shirt.

Eleanor hated the Sex Pistols.Eleanor …Standing behind him until he turned his head.

Lying next to him just before he woke up. Mak-ing everyone else seem drabber and flatter andnever good enough.

Eleanor ruining everything.Eleanor, gone.He’d stopped trying to bring her back.

AUGUST 1986

CHAPTER 1

Park

XTC was no good for drowning out the moronsat the back of the bus.

Park pressed his headphones into his ears.Tomorrow he was going to bring Skinny

Puppy or the Misfits. Or maybe he’d make a spe-cial bus tape with as much screaming and wailingon it as possible.

He could get back to New Wave in Novem-ber, after he got his driver’s license. His parentshad already said Park could have his mom’s Im-pala, and he’d been saving up for a new tapedeck. Once he started driving to school, he couldlisten to whatever he wanted or nothing at all,and he’d get to sleep in an extra twenty minutes.

‘That doesn’t exist,’ somebody shouted be-hind him.

‘It so fucking does,’ Steve shouted back.‘Drunken-monkey style, man, it’s a real fuckingthing. You can kill somebody with it …’

‘You’re full of shit.’‘You’re full of shit,’ Steve said. ‘Park! Hey,

Park.’Park heard him, but didn’t answer. Some-

times, if you ignored Steve for a minute, hemoved onto someone else. Knowing that was 80percent of surviving with Steve as your neighbor.The other 20 percent was just keeping your headdown …

Which Park had momentarily forgotten. Aball of paper hit him in the back of the head.

‘Those were my Human Growth and Devel-opment notes, dicklick,’ Tina said.

‘I’m sorry, baby,’ Steve said. ‘I’ll teach youall about human growth and development. Whatdo you need to know?’

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‘Teach her drunken-monkey style,’ some-body said.

‘PARK!’ Steve shouted.Park pulled down his headphones and turned

to the back of the bus. Steve was holding court inthe last seat. Even sitting, his head practicallytouched the roof. Steve always looked like hewas surrounded by doll furniture. He’d lookedlike a grown man since the seventh grade, andthat was before he grew a full beard. Slightlybefore.

Sometimes Park wondered if Steve was withTina because she made him look even more likea monster. Most of the girls from the Flats weresmall, but Tina couldn’t be five feet. Massivehair, included.

Once, back in middle school, some guy hadtried to give Steve shit about how he better notget Tina pregnant because if he did, his giant ba-bies would kill her. ‘They’ll bust out of her stom-ach like in Aliens,’ the guy said. Steve broke hislittle finger on the guy’s face.

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When Park’s dad heard, he said, ‘Somebodyneeds to teach that Murphy kid how to make afist.’ But Park hoped nobody would. The guySteve hit couldn’t open his eyes for a week.

Park tossed Tina her balled-up homework.She caught it.

‘Park,’ Steve said, ‘tell Mikey about drunken-monkey karate.’

‘I don’t know anything about it.’ Parkshrugged.

‘But it exists, right?’‘I guess I’ve heard of it.’‘There,’ Steve said. He looked for something

to throw at Mikey, but couldn’t find anything. Hepointed instead. ‘I fucking told you.’

‘What the fuck does Sheridan know aboutkung fu?’ Mikey said.

‘Are you retarded?’ Steve said. ‘His mom’sChinese.’

Mikey looked at Park carefully. Park smiledand narrowed his eyes. ‘Yeah, I guess I see it,’

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Mikey said. ‘I always thought you wereMexican.’

‘Shit, Mikey,’ Steve said, ‘you’re such afucking racist.’

‘She’s not Chinese,’ Tina said. ‘She’sKorean.’

‘Who is?’ Steve asked.‘Park’s mom.’Park’s mom had been cutting Tina’s hair

since grade school. They both had the exact samehairstyle, long spiral perms with tall, featheredbangs.

‘She’s fucking hot is what she is,’ Steve said,cracking himself up. ‘No offense, Park.’

Park managed another smile and slunk backinto his seat, putting his headphones back on andcranking up the volume. He could still hear Steveand Mikey, four seats behind him.

‘But what’s the fucking point?’ Mikey asked.‘Dude, would you want to fight a drunk mon-

key? They’re fucking huge. Like Every Which

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Way But Loose, man. Imagine that bastard losinghis shit on you.’

Park noticed the new girl at about the sametime everybody else did. She was standing at thefront of the bus, next to the first available seat.

There was a kid sitting there by himself, afreshman. He put his bag down on the seat besidehim, then looked the other way. All down theaisle, anybody who was sitting alone moved tothe edge of their seat. Park heard Tina snicker;she lived for this stuff.

The new girl took a deep breath and steppedfarther down the aisle. Nobody would look at her.Park tried not to, but it was kind of a train wreck/eclipse situation.

The girl just looked like exactly the sort ofperson this would happen to.

Not just new – but big and awkward. Withcrazy hair, bright red on top of curly. And shewas dressed like … like she wanted people tolook at her. Or maybe like she didn’t get what amess she was. She had on a plaid shirt, a man’s

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shirt, with half a dozen weird necklaces hangingaround her neck and scarves wrapped around herwrists. She reminded Park of a scarecrow or oneof the trouble dolls his mom kept on her dresser.Like something that wouldn’t survive in the wild.

The bus stopped again, and a bunch morekids got on. They pushed past the girl, knockinginto her, and dropped into their own seats.

That was the thing – everybody on the busalready had a seat. They’d all claimed one on thefirst day of school. People like Park who werelucky enough to have a whole seat to themselvesweren’t going to give that up now. Especially notfor someone like this.

Park looked back up at the girl. She was juststanding there.

‘Hey, you,’ the bus driver yelled, ‘sit down.’The girl started moving toward the back of

the bus. Right into the belly of the beast. God,Park thought, stop. Turn around. He could feelSteve and Mikey licking their chops as she gotcloser. He tried again to look away.

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Then the girl spotted an empty seat justacross from Park. Her face lit with relief, and shehurried toward it.

‘Hey,’ Tina said sharply.The girl kept moving.‘Hey,’ Tina said, ‘Bozo.’Steve started laughing. His friends fell in a

few seconds behind him.‘You can’t sit there,’ Tina said. ‘That’s

Mikayla’s seat.’The girl stopped and looked up at Tina, then

looked back at the empty seat.‘Sit down,’ the driver bellowed from the

front.‘I have to sit somewhere,’ the girl said to

Tina in a firm, calm voice.‘Not my problem,’ Tina snapped. The bus

lurched, and the girl rocked back to keep fromfalling. Park tried to turn the volume up on hisWalkman, but it was already all the way up. Helooked back at the girl; it looked like she wasstarting to cry.

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Before he’d even decided to do it, Parkscooted toward the window.

‘Sit down,’ he said. It came out angrily. Thegirl turned to him, like she couldn’t tell whetherhe was another jerk or what. ‘Jesus-fuck,’ Parksaid softly, nodding to the space next to him,‘just sit down.’

The girl sat down. She didn’t say anything –thank God, she didn’t thank him – and she leftsix inches of space on the seat between them.

Park turned toward the Plexiglas window andwaited for a world of suck to hit the fan.

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CHAPTER 2

Eleanor

Eleanor considered her options:

1. She could walk home from school. Pros: Exer-cise, color in her cheeks, time to herself. Cons:She didn’t know her new address yet, or eventhe general direction to start walking.

2. She could call her mom and ask for a ride.Pros: Lots. Cons: Her mom didn’t have aphone. Or a car.

3. She could call her dad. Ha.4. She could call her grandma. Just to say hi.

She was sitting on the concrete steps at the frontof the school, staring out at the row of yellowbuses. Her bus was right there. No. 666.

Even if Eleanor could avoid the bus today,even if her fairy godmother showed up with apumpkin carriage, she’d still have to find a wayto get back to school tomorrow morning.

And it’s not like the devil-kids on the buswere going to wake up on the other side of theirbeds tomorrow. Seriously. It wouldn’t surpriseEleanor if they unhinged their jaws the next timeshe saw them. That girl in the back with theblond hair and the acid-washed jacket? Youcould practically see the horns hidden in herbangs. And her boyfriend was possibly a memberof the Nephilim.

That girl – all of them – hated Eleanor beforethey’d even laid eyes on her. Like they’d beenhired to kill her in a past life.

Eleanor couldn’t tell if the Asian kid who fi-nally let her sit down was one of them, or wheth-er he was just really stupid. (But not stupid-stu-pid … He was in two of Eleanor’s honorsclasses.)

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Her mom had insisted that the new school putEleanor in honors classes. She’d freaked whenshe saw how bad Eleanor’s grades were from lastyear in the ninth grade. ‘This can’t be a surpriseto you, Mrs Douglas,’ the counselor said. Ha,Eleanor thought, you’d be surprised what couldbe a surprise at this point.

Whatever. Eleanor could stare at the cloudsjust as easily in honors classes. There were just asmany windows.

If she ever even came back to this school.If she ever even got home.Eleanor couldn’t tell her mom about the bus

situation anyway because her mom had alreadysaid that Eleanor didn’t have to ride the bus. Lastnight, when she was helping Eleanor unpack …

‘Richie said he’ll take you,’ her mom said.‘It’s on his way to work.’

‘Is he going to make me ride in the back ofhis truck?’

‘He’s trying to make peace, Eleanor. Youpromised that you’d try, too.’

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‘It’s easier for me to make peace from adistance.’

‘I told him you were ready to be part of thisfamily.’

‘I’m already part of this family. I’m like acharter member.’

‘Eleanor,’ her mom said. ‘Please.’‘I’ll just ride the bus,’ Eleanor had said. ‘It’s

not a big deal. I’ll meet people.’Ha, Eleanor thought now. Giant, dramatic ha.Her bus was going to leave soon. A few of

the other buses were already pulling away. Some-body ran down the steps next to Eleanor and ac-cidentally kicked her bag. She pulled it out of theway and started to say sorry – but it was that stu-pid Asian kid, and he frowned when he saw thatit was her. She frowned right back at him, and heran ahead.

Oh, fine, Eleanor thought. The children ofhell shan’t go hungry on my watch.

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CHAPTER 3

Park

She didn’t talk to him on the ride home.Park had spent all day trying to think of how

to get away from the new girl. He’d have toswitch seats. That was the only answer. Butswitch to what seat? He didn’t want to force him-self on somebody else. And even the act ofswitching seats would catch Steve’s attention.

Park had expected Steve to start in on him assoon he let the girl sit down, but Steve had goneright back to talking about kung fu again. Park,by the way, knew plenty about kung fu. Becausehis dad was obsessed with martial arts, not be-cause his mom was Korean. Park and his littlebrother, Josh, had been taking taekwando sincethey could walk.

Switch seats, how …?He could probably find a seat up front with

the freshmen, but that would be a spectacularshow of weakness. And he almost hated to thinkabout leaving the weird new girl at the back ofthe bus by herself.

He hated himself for thinking like this.If his dad knew he was thinking like this,

he’d call Park a pussy. Out loud, for once. If hisgrandma knew, she’d smack him on the back ofthe head. ‘Where are you manners?’ she’d say.‘Is that any way to treat somebody who’s downon her luck?’

But Park didn’t have any luck – or status – tospare on that dumb redhead. He had just enoughto keep himself out of trouble. And he knew itwas crappy, but he was kind of grateful thatpeople like that girl existed. Because people likeSteve and Mikey and Tina existed, too, and theyneeded to be fed. If it wasn’t that redhead, it wasgoing to be somebody else. And if it wasn’tsomebody else, it was going to be Park.

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Steve had let it go this morning, but hewouldn’t keep letting it go …

Park could hear his grandma again. ‘Seri-ously, son, you’re giving yourself a stomach achebecause you did something nice while otherpeople were watching?’

It wasn’t even that nice, Park thought. He’dlet the girl sit down, but he’d sworn at her. Whenshe showed up in his English class that afternoon,it felt like she was there to haunt him …

‘Eleanor,’ Mr Stessman said. ‘What a power-ful name. It’s a queen’s name, you know.’

‘It’s the name of the fat Chipette,’ somebodybehind Park whispered. Somebody else laughed.

Mr Stessman gestured to an empty desk upfront.

‘We’re reading poetry today, Eleanor,’ MrStessman said. ‘Dickinson. Perhaps you’d like toget us started.’

Mr Stessman opened her book to the rightpage and pointed. ‘Go ahead,’ he said, ‘clear andloud. I’ll tell you when to stop.’

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The new girl looked at Mr Stessman like shehoped he was kidding. When it was clear that hewasn’t – he almost never was – she started toread.

‘I had been hungry all the years,’ she read. Afew kids laughed. Jesus, Park thought, only MrStessman would make a chubby girl read a poemabout eating on her first day of class.

‘Carry on, Eleanor,’ Mr Stessman said.She started over, which Park thought was a

terrible idea.‘I had been hungry all the years,’ she said,

louder this time.‘My noon had come, to dine,‘I, trembling, drew the table near,‘And touched the curious wine.‘T’was this on tables I had seen,‘When turning, hungry, lone,‘I looked in windows, for the wealth‘I could not hope to own.’

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Mr Stessman didn’t stop her, so she read thewhole poem in that cool, defiant voice. The samevoice she’d used on Tina.

‘That was wonderful,’ Mr Stessman saidwhen she was done. He was beaming. ‘Just won-derful. I hope you’ll stay with us, Eleanor, atleast until we do Medea. That’s a voice that ar-rives on a chariot drawn by dragons.’

When the girl showed up in history, MrSanderhoff didn’t make a scene. But he did say,‘Ah. Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine,’ when shehanded him her paperwork. She sat down a fewrows ahead of Park and, as far as he could tell,spent the whole period staring at the sun.

Park couldn’t think of a way to get rid of heron the bus. Or a way to get rid of himself. So heput his headphones on before the girl sat downand turned the volume all the way up.

Thank God she didn’t try to talk to him.

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CHAPTER 4

Eleanor

She got home that afternoon before all the littlekids, which was good because she wasn’t readyto see them again. It had been such a freak showwhen she’d walked in last night …

Eleanor had spent so much time thinkingabout what it would be like to finally come homeand how much she missed everybody – shethought they’d throw her a ticker-tape parade.She thought it would be a big hugfest.

But when Eleanor walked in the house, it waslike her siblings didn’t recognize her.

Ben just glanced at her, and Maisie – Maisiewas sitting on Richie’s lap. Which would havemade Eleanor throw right up if she hadn’t just

promised her mom that she’d be on her best be-havior for the rest of her life.

Only Mouse ran to hug Eleanor. She pickedhim up gratefully. He was five now, and heavy.

‘Hey, Mouse,’ she said. They’d called himthat since he was a baby, she couldn’t rememberwhy. He reminded her more of a big, sloppypuppy – always excited, always trying to jumpinto your lap.

‘Look, Dad, it’s Eleanor,’ Mouse said, jump-ing down. ‘Do you know Eleanor?’

Richie pretended not to hear. Maisie watchedand sucked her thumb. Eleanor hadn’t seen herdo that in years. She was eight now, but with herthumb in her mouth, she looked just like a baby.

The baby wouldn’t remember Eleanor at all.He’d be two … There he was, sitting on the floorwith Ben. Ben was eleven. He stared at the wallbehind the TV.

Their mom carried the duffel bag with Elean-or’s stuff into a bedroom off the living room, andEleanor followed her. The room was tiny, just big

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enough for a dresser and some bunk beds. Mouseran into the room after them. ‘You get the topbunk,’ he said, ‘and Ben has to sleep on the floorwith me. Mom already told us, and Ben started tocry.’

‘Don’t worry about that,’ their mom saidsoftly. ‘We all just have to readjust.’

There wasn’t room in this room to readjust.(Which Eleanor decided not to mention.) Shewent to bed as soon as she could, so she wouldn’thave to go back out to the living room.

When she woke up in the middle of the night,all three of her brothers were asleep on the floor.There was no way to get up without stepping onone of them, and she didn’t even know where thebathroom was …

She found it. There were only five rooms inthe house, and the bathroom just barely counted.It was attached to the kitchen – like literally at-tached, without a door. This house was designedby cave trolls, Eleanor thought. Somebody,

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probably her mom, had hung a flowered sheetbetween the refrigerator and the toilet.

When she got home from school, Eleanor letherself in with her new key. The house was pos-sibly even more depressing in daylight – dingyand bare – but at least Eleanor had the place, andher mom, to herself.

It was weird to come home and see her mom,just standing in the kitchen, like … like normal.She was making soup, chopping onions. Eleanorfelt like crying.

‘How was school?’ her mom asked.‘Fine,’ Eleanor said.‘Did you have a good first day?’‘Sure. I mean, yeah, it was just school.’‘Will you have a lot of catching up to do?’‘I don’t think so.’Her mom wiped her hands on the back of her

jeans and tucked her hair behind her ears, andEleanor was struck, for the ten-thousandth time,by how beautiful she was.

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When Eleanor was a little girl, she’d thoughther mom looked like a queen, like the star ofsome fairy tale.

Not a princess – princesses are just pretty.Eleanor’s mother was beautiful. She was tall andstately, with broad shoulders and an elegantwaist. All of her bones seemed more purposefulthan other people’s. Like they weren’t just thereto hold her up, they were there to make a point.

She had a strong nose and a sharp chin, andher cheekbones were high and thick. You’d lookat Eleanor’s mom and think she must be carvedinto the prow of a Viking ship somewhere ormaybe painted on the side of a plane …

Eleanor looked a lot like her.But not enough.Eleanor looked like her mother through a fish

tank. Rounder and softer. Slurred. Where hermother was statuesque, Eleanor was heavy.Where her mother was finely drawn, Eleanor wassmudged.

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After five kids, her mother had breasts andhips like a woman in a cigarette ad. At sixteen,Eleanor was already built like she ran a medievalpub.

She had too much of everything and too littleheight to hide it. Her breasts started just belowher chin, her hips were … a parody. Even hermom’s hair, long and wavy and auburn, was amore legitimate version of Eleanor’s bright redcurls.

Eleanor put her hand to her head self-consciously.

‘I have something to show you,’ her momsaid, covering the soup, ‘but I didn’t want to do itin front of the little kids. Here, come on.’

Eleanor followed her into the kids’ bedroom.Her mom opened the closet and took out a stackof towels and a laundry basket full of socks.

‘I couldn’t bring all your things when wemoved,’ she said. ‘Obviously we don’t have asmuch room here as we had in the old house …’She reached into the closet and pulled out a black

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plastic garbage bag. ‘But I packed as much as Icould.’

She handed Eleanor the bag and said, ‘I’msorry about the rest.’

Eleanor had assumed that Richie threw all herstuff in the trash a year ago, ten seconds afterhe’d kicked her out. She took the bag in her arms.‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘Thanks.’

Her mom reached out and touched Eleanor’sshoulder, just for a second. ‘The little kids will behome in twenty minutes or so,’ she said, ‘andwe’ll eat dinner around 4:30. I like to haveeverything settled before Richie comes home.’

Eleanor nodded. She opened the bag as soonas her mom left the room. She wanted to seewhat was still hers …

The first thing she recognized were the paperdolls. They were loose in the bag and wrinkled; afew were marked with crayons. It had been yearssince Eleanor had played with them, but she wasstill happy to see them there. She pressed themflat and laid them in a pile.

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Under the dolls were books, a dozen or sothat her mother must have grabbed at random;she wouldn’t have known which were Eleanor’sfavorites. Eleanor was glad to see Garp andWatership Down. It sucked that Oliver’s Storyhad made the cut, but Love Story hadn’t. AndLittle Men was there, but not Little Women orJo’s Boys.

There was a bunch more papers in the bag.She’d had a file cabinet in her old room, and itlooked like her mom had grabbed most of thefolders. Eleanor tried to get everything into a neatstack, all the report cards and school pictures andletters from pen pals.

She wondered where the rest of the stuff fromthe old house had ended up. Not just her stuff,but everybody’s. Like the furniture and the toys,and all of her mom’s plants and paintings. Hergrandma’s Danish wedding plates … The littlered ‘Uff da!’ horse that always used to hangabove the sink.

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Maybe it was packed away somewhere.Maybe her mom was hoping the cave-troll housewas just temporary.

Eleanor was still hoping that Richie was justtemporary.

At the bottom of the black trash bag was abox. Her heart jumped a little when she saw it.Her uncle in Minnesota used to send her family aFruit of the Month Club membership everyChristmas, and Eleanor and her brothers and sis-ter would always fight over the boxes that thefruit came in. It was stupid, but they were goodboxes – solid, with nice lids. This one was agrapefruit box, soft from wear at the edges.

Eleanor opened it carefully. Nothing insidehad been touched. There was her stationery, hercolored pencils and her Prismacolor markers (an-other Christmas present from her uncle). Therewas a stack of promotional cards from the mallthat still smelled like expensive perfumes. Andthere was her Walkman. Untouched. Un-batter-ied, too, but nevertheless, there. And where there

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was a Walkman, there was the possibility ofmusic.

Eleanor let her head fall over the box. Itsmelled like Chanel No. 5 and pencil shavings.She sighed.

There wasn’t anything to do with her re-covered belongings once she’d sorted throughthem – there wasn’t even room in the dresser forEleanor’s clothes. So she set aside the box andthe books, and carefully put everything else backin the garbage bag. Then she pushed the bag backas far as she could on the highest shelf in thecloset, behind the towels and a humidifier.

She climbed onto her bunk and found a scrag-gly old cat napping there. ‘Shoo,’ Eleanor said,shoving him. The cat leaped to the floor and outthe bedroom door.

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CHAPTER 5

Park

Mr Stessman was making them all memorize apoem, whatever poem they wanted. Well,whatever poem they picked.

‘You’re going to forget everything else Iteach you,’ Mr Stessman said, petting his mus-tache. ‘Everything. Maybe you’ll remember thatBeowulf fought a monster. Maybe you’ll remem-ber that “To be or not to be” is Hamlet, notMacbeth …

‘But everything else? Forget about it.’He was slowly walking up and down each

aisle. Mr Stessman loved this kind of stuff –theater in the round. He stopped next to Park’sdesk and leaned in casually with his hand on the

back of Park’s chair. Park stopped drawing andsat up straight. He couldn’t draw anyway.

‘So, you’re going to memorize a poem,’ MrStessman continued, pausing a moment to smiledown at Park like Gene Wilder in the chocolatefactory.

‘Brains love poetry. It’s sticky stuff. You’regoing to memorize this poem, and five yearsfrom now, we’re going to see each other at theVillage Inn, and you’ll say, “Mr Stessman, I stillremember ‘The Road Not Taken!’ Listen …‘Two roads diverged in a yellow wood …’”’

He moved on to the next desk. Park relaxed.‘Nobody gets to pick “The Road Not Taken,”

by the way, I’m sick to death of it. And no ShelSilverstein. He’s grand, but you’ve graduated.We’re all adults here. Choose an adult poem …

‘Choose a romantic poem, that’s my advice.You’ll get the most use out of it.’

He walked by the new girl’s desk, but shedidn’t turn away from the window.

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‘Of course, it’s up to you. You may choose“A Dream Deferred” – Eleanor?’ She turnedblankly. Mr Stessman leaned in. ‘You maychoose it, Eleanor. It’s poignant and it’s truth.But how often will you get to roll that one out?

‘No. Choose a poem that speaks to you.Choose a poem that will help you speak tosomeone else.’

Park planned to choose a poem that rhymed,so it would be easier to memorize. He liked MrStessman, he really did – but he wished he’d dialit back a few notches. Whenever he worked theroom like this, Park got embarrassed for him.

‘We meet tomorrow in the library,’ Mr Stess-man said, back at his desk. ‘Tomorrow, we’regathering rosebuds.’

The bell rang. On cue.

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CHAPTER 6

Eleanor

‘Watch it, raghead.’Tina pushed roughly past Eleanor and

climbed onto the bus.She had everybody else in their gym class

calling Eleanor Bozo, but Tina had alreadymoved on to Raghead and Bloody Mary. ‘Cuz itlooks like your whole head is on the rag,’ she’dexplained today in the locker room.

It made sense that Tina was in Eleanor’s gymclass – because gym was an extension of hell,and Tina was definitely a demon. A weird, mini-ature demon. Like a toy demon. Or a teacup. Andshe had a whole gang of lesser demons, alldressed in matching gymsuits.

Actually, everyone wore matching gymsuits.

At Eleanor’s old school, she’d thought it hadsucked that they had to wear gym shorts. (Elean-or hated her legs even more than she hated therest of her body.) But at North they had to weargymsuits. Polyester onesies. The bottom was red,and the top was red-and-white striped, and it allzipped up the front.

‘Red isn’t your color, Bozo,’ Tina had saidthe first time Eleanor suited up. The other girlsall laughed, even the black girls, who hated Tina.Laughing at Eleanor was Dr King’s mountain.

After Tina pushed past her, Eleanor took hertime getting on the bus – but she still got to herseat before that stupid Asian kid. Which meantshe’d have to get up to let him have his spot bythe window. Which would be awkward. It was allawkward. Every time the bus hit a pothole,Eleanor practically fell in the guy’s lap.

Maybe somebody else on the bus would dropout or die or something and she’d be able moveaway from him.

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At least he didn’t ever talk to her. Or look ather.

At least she didn’t think he did; Eleanor neverlooked at him.

Sometimes she looked at his shoes. He hadcool shoes. And sometimes she looked to seewhat he was reading …

Always comic books.Eleanor never brought anything to read on the

bus. She didn’t want Tina, or anybody else, tocatch her with her head down.

Park

It felt wrong to sit next to somebody every dayand not talk to her. Even if she was weird. (Jesus,was she weird. Today she was dressed like aChristmas tree, with all this stuff pinned to herclothes, shapes cut out of fabric, ribbon …) Theride home couldn’t go fast enough. Park couldn’twait to get away from her, away from everybody.

‘Dude, where’s your dobak?’

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He was trying to eat dinner alone in his room,but his little brother wouldn’t let him. Josh stoodin the doorway, already dressed for taekwandoand inhaling a chicken leg.

‘Dad’s going to be here, like now,’ Josh saidthrough the drumstick, ‘and he’s gonna shit ifyou’re not ready.’

Their mom came up behind Josh andthumped him on the head. ‘Don’t cuss, dirtymouth.’ She had to reach up to do it. Josh was hisfather’s son; he was already at least seven inchestaller than their mom – and three inches tallerthan Park.

Which sucked.Park pushed Josh out the door and slammed

it. So far, Park’s strategy for maintaining hisstatus as older brother despite their growing sizedifferential was to pretend he could still kickJosh’s ass.

He could still beat him at taekwando – butonly because Josh got impatient with any sportwhere his size wasn’t an obvious advantage. The

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high school football coach had already startedcoming to Josh’s Peewee games.

Park changed into his dobak, wondering if hewas going to have to start wearing Josh’s hand-me-downs pretty soon. Maybe he could take aSharpie to all Josh’s Husker football T-shirts andmake them say Husker Dü. Or maybe it wouldn’teven be an issue – Park might never get any tallerthan five foot four. He might never grow out ofthe clothes he had now.

He put on his Chuck Taylors and took hisdinner into the kitchen, eating over the counter.His mom was trying to get gravy out of Josh’swhite jacket with a washcloth.

‘Mindy?’That’s how Park’s dad came home every

night, like the dad in a sit-com. (‘Lucy?’) And hismom would call out from wherever she was, ‘Inhere!’

Except she said it, ‘In hee-ya!’ Because shewas apparently never going to stop sounding likeshe just got here yesterday from Korea.

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Sometimes Park thought she kept the accent onpurpose, because his dad liked it. But his momtried so hard to fit in in every other way … If shecould sound like she grew up right around thecorner, she would.

His dad barreled into the kitchen and scoopedhis mom into his arms. They did this every night,too. Full-on make-out sessions, no matter whowas around. It was like watching Paul Bunyanmake out with one of those It’s a Small Worlddolls.

Park grabbed his brother’s sleeve. ‘Come on,let’s go.’ They could wait in the Impala. Theirdad would be out in a minute, as soon as he’dchanged into his giant dobak.

Eleanor

She still couldn’t get used to eating dinner soearly.

When did this all start? In the old house,they’d all eaten together, even Richie. Eleanor

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wasn’t complaining about not having to eat withRichie … But now it was like their mom wantedthem all out of the way before he came home.

She even made him a totally different dinner.The kids would get grilled cheese, and Richiewould get steak. Eleanor wasn’t complainingabout the grilled cheese either – it was a nicebreak from bean soup, and beans and rice, andhuevos y frijoles …

After dinner, Eleanor usually disappeared in-to her room to read, but the little kids alwayswent outside. What were they going to do when itgot cold – and when it started getting dark early?Would they all hide in the bedroom? It wascrazy. Diary of Anne Frank crazy.

Eleanor climbed up onto her bunk bed andgot out her stationery box. That dumb gray catwas sleeping in her bed again. She pushed himoff.

She opened the grapefruit box and flippedthrough her stationery. She kept meaning to writeletters to her friends from her old school. She

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hadn’t gotten to say goodbye to anybody whenshe left. Her mom had shown up out of the blueand pulled Eleanor out of class, all ‘Get yourthings, you’re coming home.’

Her mom had been so happy.And Eleanor had been so happy.They went straight to North to get Eleanor re-

gistered, then stopped at Burger King on the wayto the new house. Her mom kept squeezingEleanor’s hand … Eleanor had pretended not tonotice the bruises on her mom’s wrist.

The bedroom door opened, and her little sis-ter walked in, carrying the cat.

‘Mom wants you to leave the door open,’Maisie said, ‘for the breeze.’ Every window inthe house was open, but there didn’t seem to beany breeze. With the door open, Eleanor couldjust see Richie sitting on the couch. She scooteddown the bed until she couldn’t.

‘What are you doing?’ Maisie asked.‘Writing a letter.’‘To who?’

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‘I don’t know yet.’‘Can I come up?’‘No.’ For the moment, all Eleanor could think

about was keeping her box safe. She didn’t wantMaisie to see the colored pencils and clean paper.Plus, part of her still wanted to punish Maisie forsitting in Richie’s lap.

That never would have happened before.Before Richie kicked Eleanor out, all the kids

were allied against him. Maybe Eleanor hadhated him the most, and the most openly – butthey were all on her side, Ben and Maisie, evenMouse. Mouse used to steal Richie’s cigarettesand hide them. And Mouse was the one they’dsend to knock on their mom’s door when theyheard bedsprings …

When it was worse than bedsprings, when itwas shouting or crying, they’d huddle together,all five of them, on Eleanor’s bed. (They’d allhad their own beds in the old house.)

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Maisie sat at Eleanor’s right hand then. WhenMouse cried, when Ben’s face went blank anddreamy, Maisie and Eleanor would lock eyes.

‘I hate him,’ Eleanor would say.‘I hate him so much I wish he was dead,’

Maisie would answer.‘I hope he falls off a ladder at work.’‘I hope he gets hit by a truck.’‘A garbage truck.’‘Yeah,’ Maisie would say, gritting her teeth,

‘and all the garbage will fall on his dead body.’‘And then a bus will run him over.’‘Yeah.’‘I hope I’m on it.’Maisie put the cat back on Eleanor’s bed. ‘It

likes to sleep up there,’ she said.‘Do you call him Dad, too?’ Eleanor asked.‘He is our dad now,’ Maisie said.

Eleanor woke up in the middle of the night. Rich-ie had fallen asleep in the living room with theTV on. She didn’t breathe on the way to the bath-room and was too scared to flush the toilet. When

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she got back to her room, she closed the door.Fuck the breeze.

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CHAPTER 7

Park

‘I’m going to ask Kim out,’ Cal said.‘Don’t ask Kim out,’ Park said.‘Why not?’ They were sitting in the library,

and they were supposed to be looking for poems.Cal had already picked out something short abouta girl named Julia and the ‘liquefaction of herclothes.’ (‘Crass,’ Park said. ‘It can’t be crass,’Cal argued. ‘It’s three-hundred years old.’)

‘Because she’s Kim,’ Park said. ‘You can’task her out. Look at her.’

Kim was sitting at the next table over withtwo other preppy girls.

‘Look at her,’ Cal said, ‘she’s a Betty.’‘Jesus,’ Park said. ‘You sound so stupid.’‘What? That’s a thing. A Betty is a thing.’

‘But you got it from Thrasher or something,right?’

‘That’s how people learn new words, Park’ –Cal tapped a book of poetry – ‘reading.’

‘You’re trying too hard.’‘She’s a Betty,’ Cal said, nodding at Kim and

getting a Slim Jim out of his backpack.Park looked at Kim again. She had bobbed

blond hair and hard, curled bangs, and she wasthe only kid in school with a Swatch. Kim wasone of those people who never wrinkled … Shewouldn’t make eye contact with Cal. She’d beafraid he’d leave a stain.

‘This is my year,’ Cal said. ‘I’m getting agirlfriend.’

‘But probably not Kim.’‘Why not Kim? You think I need to aim

lower?’Park looked up at him. Cal wasn’t a bad-

looking guy. He had kind of a tall Barney Rubblething going on … He already had pieces of SlimJim caught in his front teeth.

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‘Aim elsewhere,’ Park said.‘Screw that,’ Cal said, ‘I’m starting at the top.

And I’m getting you a girl, too.’‘Thanks, but no thanks,’ Park said.‘Double-dating,’ Cal said.‘No.’‘In the Impala.’‘Don’t get your hopes up.’ Park’s dad had de-

cided to be a fascist about Park’s driver’s license;he’d announced last night that Park had to learnto drive a stick first. Park opened another book ofpoetry. It was all about war. He closed it.

‘Now there’s a girl who might want a pieceof you,’ Cal said. ‘Looks like somebody’s gotjungle fever.’

‘That isn’t even the right kind of racist,’ Parksaid, looking up. Cal was nodding toward the farcorner of the library. The new girl was sittingthere, staring right at them.

‘She’s kind of big,’ Cal said, ‘but the Impalais a spacious automobile.’

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‘She’s not looking at me. She’s just staring,she does that. Watch.’ Park waved at the girl, butshe didn’t blink.

He’d only made eye contact with her oncesince her first day on the bus. It was last week, inhistory, and she’d practically gouged out his eyeswith hers.

If you don’t want people to look at you, Parkhad thought at the time, don’t wear fishing luresin your hair. Her jewelry box must look like ajunk drawer. Not that everything she wore wasstupid …

She had a pair of Vans he liked, with straw-berries on them. And she had a green sharkskinblazer that Park would wear himself if he thoughthe could get away with it.

Did she think she was getting away with it?Park braced himself every morning before

she got on the bus, but you couldn’t brace your-self enough for the sight of her.

‘Do you know her?’ Cal asked.

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‘No,’ Park said quickly. ‘She’s on my bus.She’s weird.’

‘Jungle fever is a thing,’ Cal said.‘For black people. If you like black people.

And it’s not a compliment, I don’t think.’‘Your people come from the jungle,’ Cal

said, pointing at Park. ‘Apocalypse Now,anyone?’

‘You should ask Kim out,’ Park said. ‘That’sa really good idea.’

Eleanor

Eleanor wasn’t going to fight over an e.e. cum-mings book like it was the last Cabbage PatchKid. She found an empty table in the AfricanAmerican literature section.

That was another fucked-up thing about thisschool – effed-up, she corrected herself.

Most of the kids here were black, but most ofthe kids in her honors classes were white. Theygot bussed in from west Omaha. And the white

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kids from the Flats, dishonor students, got bussedin from the other direction.

Eleanor wished she had more honors classes.She wished there was honors gym …

Like they’d ever let her into honors gym.Eleanor would get put in remedial gym first.With all the other fat girls who couldn’t do sit-ups.

Anyway. Honor students – black, white orAsia Minor – tended to be nicer. Maybe theywere just as mean on the inside, but they werescared of getting in trouble. Or maybe they werejust as mean on the inside, but they’d beentrained to be polite – to give up their seats for oldpeople and girls.

Eleanor had honors English, history and geo-graphy, but she spent the rest of her day inCrazytown. Seriously, Blackboard Jungle. Sheshould probably try harder in her smart classes sothat she wouldn’t get kicked out of them.

She started copying a poem called ‘CagedBird’ into her notebook … Sweet. It rhymed.

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CHAPTER 8

Park

She was reading his comics.At first Park thought he was imagining it. He

kept getting this feeling that she was looking athim, but whenever he looked over at her, her facewas down.

He finally realized that she was staring at hislap. Not in a gross way. She was looking at hiscomics – he could see her eyes moving.

Park didn’t know that anyone with red haircould have brown eyes. (He didn’t know thatanyone could have hair that red. Or skin thatwhite.) The new girl’s eyes were darker than hismom’s, really dark, almost like holes in her face.

That made it sound bad, but it wasn’t. Itmight even be the best thing about her. It kind of

reminded Park of the way artists draw Jean Greysometimes when she’s using her telepathy, withher eyes all blacked out and alien.

Today the girl was wearing a giant men’sshirt with seashells all over it. The collar musthave been really big, like disco-big, becauseshe’d cut it, and it was fraying. She had a man’snecktie wrapped around her ponytail like a bigpolyester ribbon. She looked ridiculous.

And she was looking at his comics.Park felt like he should say something to her.

He always felt like he should say something toher, even if it was just ‘hello’ or ‘excuse me.’ Buthe’d gone too long without saying anything sincethe first time he’d cursed at her, and now it wasall just irrevocably weird. For an hour a day.Thirty minutes on the way to school, thirtyminutes back.

Park didn’t say anything. He just held hiscomics open wider and turned the pages moreslowly.

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Eleanor

Her mom looked tired when Eleanor got home.Like more tired than usual. Hard and crumblingat the edges.

When the little kids stormed in after school,her mom lost her temper over something stupid –Ben and Mouse fighting over a toy – and shepushed them all out the back door, Eleanorincluded.

Eleanor was so startled to be outside that shestood on the back stoop for a second, staringdown at Richie’s Rottweiler. He’d named the dogTonya after his ex-wife. She was supposed to bea real man-eater, Tonya – Tonya the dog – butEleanor had never seen her more than halfawake.

Eleanor tried knocking on the door. ‘Mom!Let me back in. I haven’t even taken a bath yet.’

She usually took her bath right after school,before Richie got home. It took a lot of the stressout of not having a bathroom door, especiallysince somebody’d torn down the sheet.

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Her mom ignored her.The little kids were already out on the play-

ground. The new house was right next door to anelementary school – the school where Ben andMouse and Maisie went – and the playgroundwas just beyond their backyard.

Eleanor didn’t know what else to do, so shewalked out to where she could see Ben, by theswing set, and sat on one of the swings. It was fi-nally jacket weather. Eleanor wished she had ajacket.

‘What are you supposed to do when it getstoo cold to play outside?’ she asked Ben. He wastaking Matchbox cars out of his pockets and lin-ing them up in the dirt. ‘Last year,’ he said, ‘Dadmade us go to bed at 7:30.’

‘God. You too? Why do you guys call himthat?’ She tried not to sound angry.

Ben shrugged. ‘I guess because he’s marriedto Mom.’

‘Yeah, but’ – Eleanor ran her hands up anddown the swing chains, then smelled them – ‘we

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never used to call him that. Do you feel like he’syour dad?’

‘I don’t know,’ Ben said flatly. ‘What’s thatsupposed to feel like?’

She didn’t answer him, so he went back tosetting up his cars. He needed a haircut, hisstrawberry-blond hair was curling almost to hiscollar. He was wearing an old T-shirt of Elean-or’s and a pair of corduroy pants that their momhad cut off into shorts. He was almost too old forall this, for cars and parks – eleven. The otherboys his age played basketball all night or hungout in groups at the edge of the playground.Eleanor hoped that Ben was a late bloomer.There was no room in that house to be a teenager.

‘He likes it when we call him Dad,’ Ben said,still lining up the cars.

Eleanor looked out at the playground. Mousewas playing with a bunch of kids who had a soc-cer ball. Maisie must have taken the baby some-where with her friends …

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It used to be Eleanor who was stuck with thebaby all the time. She wouldn’t even mindwatching him now, it would give her somethingto do – but Maisie didn’t want Eleanor’s help.

‘What was it like?’ Ben asked.‘What was what like?’‘Living with those people.’The sun was a few inches above the horizon,

and Eleanor looked hard at it.‘Okay,’ she said. Terrible. Lonely. Better

than here.‘Were there other kids?’‘Yeah. Really little kids. Three of them.’‘Did you have your own room?’‘Sort of.’ Technically, she hadn’t had to share

the Hickmans’ living room with anyone else.‘Were they nice?’ he asked.‘Yeah … yeah. They were nice. Not as nice

as you.’The Hickmans had started out nice. But then

they got tired.

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Eleanor was only supposed to stay with themfor a few days, maybe a week. Just until Richiecooled down and let her come home.

‘It’ll be like a slumber party,’ Mrs Hickmansaid to Eleanor the first night she made up thecouch. Mrs Hickman – Tammy – knew Eleanor’smom from high school. There was a photo overthe TV of the Hickmans’ wedding. Eleanor’smom was the maid of honor – in a dark greendress, with a white flower in her hair.

At first, her mom would call Eleanor at theHickmans’ almost every day after school. After afew months, the calls stopped. It turned out thatRichie hadn’t paid the phone bill, and it got dis-connected. But Eleanor didn’t know that for awhile.

‘We should call the state,’ Mr Hickman kepttelling his wife. They thought Eleanor couldn’thear them, but their bedroom was right over theliving room. ‘This can’t go on, Tammy.’

‘Andy, it’s not her fault.’

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‘I’m not saying it’s her fault, I’m just sayingwe didn’t sign on for this.’

‘She’s no trouble.’‘She’s not ours.’Eleanor tried to be even less trouble. She

practiced being in a room without leaving anyclues that she’d been there. She never turned onthe TV or asked to use the phone. She neverasked for seconds at dinner. She never askedTammy and Mr Hickman for anything – andthey’d never had a teenager, so it didn’t occur tothem that there might be anything she mightneed. She was glad that they didn’t know herbirthday.

‘We thought you were gone,’ Ben said, push-ing a car into the dirt. He looked like somebodywho didn’t want to cry.

‘Oh ye of little faith,’ Eleanor said, kickingher swing into action.

She looked around again for Maisie andfound her sitting over where the older boys wereplaying basketball. Eleanor recognized most of

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the boys from the bus. That stupid Asian kid wasthere, jumping higher than she would haveguessed he could. He was wearing long blackshorts and a T-shirt that said ‘Madness.’

‘I’m out of here,’ Eleanor told Ben, steppingoff the swing and pushing down the top of hishead. ‘But not gone or anything. Don’t get yourpanties in a bunch.’

She walked back into the house and rushedthrough the kitchen before her mom could sayanything. Richie was in the living room. Eleanorwalked between him and the TV, eyes straightahead. She wished she had a jacket.

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CHAPTER 9

Park

He was going to tell her that she did a good jobon her poem.

That would be a giant understatement any-way. She was the only person in class who’d readher poem like it wasn’t an assignment. She re-cited it like it was a living thing. Like somethingshe was letting out. You couldn’t look away fromher as long as she was talking. (Even more thanPark’s usual not being able to look away fromher.) When she was done, a lot of people clappedand Mr Stessman hugged her. Which was totallyagainst the Code of Conduct.

‘Hey. Nice job. In English.’ That’s what Parkwas going to say.

Or maybe, ‘I’m in your English class. Thatpoem you read was cool.’

Or, ‘You’re in Mr Stessman’s class, right?Yeah, I thought so.’

Park picked up his comics after taekwandoWednesday night, but he waited until Thursdaymorning to read them.

Eleanor

That stupid Asian kid totally knew that she wasreading his comics. He even looked up at Eleanorsometimes before he turned the page, like he wasthat polite.

He definitely wasn’t one of them, the busdemons. He didn’t talk to anyone on the bus.(Especially not her.) But he was in with themsomehow because, when Eleanor was sitting nextto him, they all left her alone. Even Tina. It madeEleanor wish she could sit next to him all daylong.

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This morning, when she got on the bus, itkind of felt like he was waiting for her. He washolding a comic called Watchmen, and it lookedso ugly that Eleanor decided not to bother eaves-dropping. Or eavesreading. Whatever.

(She liked it best when he read X-Men, eventhough she didn’t get everything that was goingon there; X-Men was worse than General Hospit-al. It took Eleanor a couple weeks to figure outthat Scott Summers and Cyclops were the sameguy, and she still wasn’t sure what was up withPhoenix.)

But Eleanor didn’t have anything else to do,so her eyes wandered over to the ugly comic …And then she was reading. And then they were atschool. Which was totally weird because theyweren’t even halfway through with it.

And which totally sucked because it meant hewould read the rest of the comic during school,and have something lame like ROM out on theway home.

Except he didn’t.

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When Eleanor got on the bus that afternoon,the Asian kid opened up Watchmen right wherethey’d left off.

They were still reading it when they got toEleanor’s stop – there was so much going on,they both stared at every frame for, like, entireminutes – and when she got up to leave, hehanded it to her.

Eleanor was so surprised, she tried to hand itback, but he’d already turned away. She shovedthe comic between her books like it wassomething secret, then got off the bus.

She read it three more times that night, lyingon the top bunk, petting the scrubby old cat. Thenshe put it in her grapefruit box overnight, so thatnothing would happen to it.

Park

What if she didn’t give it back?What if he didn’t get to finish the first issue

of Watchmen because he’d lent it to a girl who

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hadn’t asked for it and probably didn’t evenknow who Alan Moore was.

If she didn’t give it back, they were even.That would cancel out the whole ‘Jesus-fuck-sit-down’ scenario.

Jesus … No, it wouldn’t.What if she did give it back? What was he

supposed to say then? Thanks?

Eleanor

When she got to their seat, he was looking outthe window. She handed him the comic, and hetook it.

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CHAPTER 10

Eleanor

The next morning, when Eleanor got on the bus,there was a stack of comics on her seat.

She picked them up and sat down. He wasalready reading.

Eleanor put the comics between her booksand stared at the window. For some reason, shedidn’t want to read in front of him. It would belike letting him watch her eat. It would be like …admitting something.

But she thought about the comics all day, andas soon she got home, she climbed onto her bedand got them out. They were all the same title –Swamp Thing.

Eleanor ate dinner sitting cross-legged on herbed, extra careful not to spill anything on the

books because every issue was in pristine condi-tion; there wasn’t so much as a bent corner. (Stu-pid, perfect Asian kid.)

That night, after her brothers and sister fellasleep, Eleanor turned the light back on so shecould read. They were the loudest sleepers ever.Ben talked in his sleep, and Maisie and the babyboth snored. Mouse wet the bed – which didn’tmake noise, but still disturbed the general peace.The light didn’t seem to bother them though.

Eleanor was only distantly conscious of Rich-ie watching TV in the next room, and she practic-ally fell off the bed when he jerked the bedroomdoor open. He looked like he expected to catchsome middle-of-the-night hijinks, but when hesaw that it was only Eleanor and that she was justreading, he grunted and told her to turn out thelight so the little kids could sleep.

After he shut the door, Eleanor got up andturned off the light. (She could just about get outof bed without stepping on somebody now,

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which was lucky for them because she was thefirst one up every morning.)

She might have gotten away with leaving thelight on, but it wasn’t worth the risk. She didn’twant to have to look at Richie again.

He looked exactly like a rat. Like the human-being version of a rat. Like the villain in a DonBluth movie. Who knew what her mom saw inhim; Eleanor’s dad was messed-up-looking, too.

Every once in a while – when Richie man-aged to take a bath, put on decent clothes andstay sober all on the same day – Eleanor couldsort of see why her mom might have thought hewas handsome. Thank the Lord that didn’t hap-pen very often. When it did, Eleanor felt like go-ing to the bathroom and sticking a finger downher throat.

Anyway. Whatever. She could still read.There was enough light coming in from thewindow.

Park

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She read stuff as fast as he could give it to her.And when she handed it back to him the nextmorning, she always acted as if she were handinghim something fragile. Something precious. Youwouldn’t even know that she touched the comicsexcept for the smell.

Every book Park lent her came back smellinglike perfume. Not like the perfume his momwore. (Imari.) And not like the new girl; shesmelled like vanilla.

But she made his comics smell like roses. Awhole field of them.

She’d read all of his Alan Moore in less thanthree weeks. Now he was giving her X-Men com-ics five at a time, and he could tell that she likedthem because she wrote the characters’ names onher books, in between band names and songlyrics.

They still didn’t talk on the bus, but it had be-come a less confrontational silence. Almostfriendly. (But not quite.)

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Park would have to talk to her today – to tellher that he didn’t have anything to give her. He’doverslept, then forgotten to grab the stack ofcomics he’d set out for her the night before. Hehadn’t even had time to eat breakfast or brush histeeth, which made him self-conscious, knowinghe was going to be sitting so close to her.

But when she got on the bus and handed himyesterday’s comics, all Park did was shrug. Shelooked away. They both looked down.

She was wearing that ugly necktie again.Today it was tied around her wrist. Her arms andwrists were scattered with freckles, layers ofthem in different shades of gold and pink, evenon the back of her hands. Little-boy hands, hismom would call them, with short-short nails andragged cuticles.

She stared down at the books in her lap.Maybe she thought he was mad at her. He staredat her books, too – covered in ink and ArtNouveau doodles.

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‘So,’ he said, before he knew what to saynext, ‘you like the Smiths?’ He was careful not toblow his morning breath on her.

She looked up, surprised. Maybe confused.He pointed at her book, where she’d written‘How Soon Is Now?’ in tall green letters.

‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘I’ve never heardthem.’

‘So you just want people to think you like theSmiths?’ He couldn’t help but sound disdainful.

‘Yeah,’ she said, looking around the bus. ‘I’mtrying to impress the locals.’

He didn’t know if she could help but soundlike a smartass, but she sure wasn’t trying. Theair soured between them. Park shifted against thewall. She looked across the aisle to stare out thewindow.

When he got to English, he tried to catch hereye, but she looked away. He felt like she wastrying so hard to ignore him that she wouldn’teven participate in class.

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Mr Stessman kept trying to draw her out –she was his new favorite target whenever thingsgot sleepy in class. Today they were supposed tobe discussing Romeo and Juliet, but nobodywanted to talk.

‘You don’t seem troubled by their deaths,Miss Douglas.’

‘I’m sorry?’ she said. She narrowed her eyesat him.

‘It doesn’t strike you as sad?’ Mr Stessmanasked. ‘Two young lovers lay dead. Never was astory of more woe. Doesn’t that get to you?’

‘I guess not,’ she said.‘Are you so cold? So cool?’ He was standing

over her desk, pretending to plead with her.‘No …’ she said. ‘I just don’t think it’s a

tragedy.’‘It’s the tragedy,’ Mr Stessman said.She rolled her eyes. She was wearing two or

three necklaces, old fake pearls, like Park’sgrandmother wore to church, and she twistedthem while she talked.

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‘But he’s so obviously making fun of them,’she said.

‘Who is?’‘Shakespeare.’‘Do tell …’She rolled her eyes again. She knew Mr

Stessman’s game by now.‘Romeo and Juliet are just two rich kids

who’ve always gotten every little thing theywanted. And now, they think they want eachother.’

‘They’re in love …’ Mr Stessman said,clutching his heart.

‘They don’t even know each other,’ she said.‘It was love at first sight.’‘It was “Oh my God, he’s so cute” at first

sight. If Shakespeare wanted you to believe theywere in love, he wouldn’t tell you in almost thevery first scene that Romeo was hung up on Ros-aline … It’s Shakespeare making fun of love,’she said.

‘Then why has it survived?’

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‘I don’t know, because Shakespeare is areally good writer?’

‘No!’ Mr Stessman said. ‘Someone else,someone with a heart. Mr Sheridan, what beats inyour chest? Tell us, why has Romeo and Julietsurvived four hundred years?’

Park hated talking in class. Eleanor frownedat him, then looked away. He felt himself blush.

‘Because …’ he said quietly, looking at hisdesk, ‘because people want to remember whatit’s like to be young? And in love?’

Mr Stessman leaned back against the black-board and rubbed his beard.

‘Is that right?’ Park asked.‘Oh, it’s definitely right,’ Mr Stessman said.

‘I don’t know if that’s why Romeo and Juliet hasbecome the most beloved play of all time. But,yes, Mr Sheridan. Truer words never spoken.’

She didn’t acknowledge Park in history class,but she never did.

When he got on the bus that afternoon, shewas already there. She got up to let him have his

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place by the window, and then she surprised himby talking. Quietly. Almost under her breath. Buttalking.

‘It’s more like a wish list,’ she said.‘What?’‘They’re songs I’d like to hear. Or bands I’d

like to hear. Stuff that looks interesting.’‘If you’ve never heard the Smiths, how do

you even know about them?’‘I don’t know,’ she said defensively. ‘My

friends, my old friends … magazines. I don’tknow. Around.’

‘Why don’t you just listen to them?’She looked at him like he was officially an

idiot. ‘It’s not like they play the Smiths on Sweet98.’

And then, when Park didn’t say anything, sherolled her inky brown eyes into the back of herhead. ‘God,’ she said.

They didn’t talk anymore all the way home.That night, while he did his homework, Park

made a tape with all of his favorite Smiths songs,

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plus a few songs by Echo and the Bunnymen, andJoy Division.

He put the tape and five more X-Men comicsinto his backpack before he went to bed.

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CHAPTER 11

Eleanor

‘Why are you so quiet?’ Eleanor’s mother asked.Eleanor was taking a bath, and her mom wasmaking fifteen-bean soup. ‘That leaves threebeans for each us,’ Ben had cracked to Eleanorearlier.

‘I’m not quiet. I’m taking a bath.’‘Usually you sing in the bathtub.’‘I do not,’ Eleanor said.‘You do. Usually you sing “Rocky

Raccoon.”’‘God. Well, thanks for telling me, I won’t

anymore. God.’Eleanor got dressed quickly and tried to

squeeze past her mother. Her mom grabbed herby the wrists. ‘I like to hear you sing,’ she said.

She reached for a bottle on the counter behindEleanor and rubbed a drop of vanilla behind eachof the girl’s ears. Eleanor raised her shoulderslike it tickled.

‘Why do you always do that? I smell like aStrawberry Shortcake doll.’

‘I do it,’ her mom said, ‘because it’s cheaperthan perfume, but it smells just as good.’ Thenshe rubbed some vanilla behind her own ears andlaughed.

Eleanor laughed with her, and stood there fora few seconds smiling. Her mom was wearingsoft old jeans and a T-shirt, and her hair waspulled back in a smooth ponytail. She looked al-most like she used to. There was a picture of her– at one of Maisie’s birthday parties, scoopingice cream cones – with a ponytail just like that.

‘Are you okay?’ her mom asked.‘Yeah …’ Eleanor said, ‘yeah, I’m just tired.

I’m going to do my homework and go to bed.’Her mom seemed to know that something wasoff, but she didn’t push. She used to make

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Eleanor tell her everything. ‘What’s going on upthere?’ she’d say, knocking on the top of Elean-or’s head. ‘Are you making yourself crazy?’ Hermom hadn’t said anything like that since Eleanorhad moved home. She seemed to realize thatshe’d lost her right to knock.

Eleanor climbed up onto her bunk and pushedthe cat to the end. She didn’t have anything toread. Nothing new, anyway. Was he done bring-ing her comics? Why had he even started? Sheran her fingers over the embarrassing song titles– ‘This Charming Man’ and ‘How Soon IsNow?’ – on her math book. She wanted toscribble them out, but he’d probably notice andlord it over her.

Eleanor really was tired, that wasn’t a lie.She’d been staying up, reading, almost everynight. She fell asleep that night right after dinner.

She woke up to shouting. Richie shouting. Elean-or couldn’t tell what he was saying.

Underneath the shouting, her mother was cry-ing. She sounded like she’d been crying for a

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long time – she must be completely out of herhead if she was letting them hear her cry likethat.

Eleanor could tell that everyone else in theroom was already awake. She hung off the bunkuntil she could see the little kids take shape in thedark. All four of them were sitting together in aclump of blankets on the floor. Maisie was hold-ing the baby, rocking him almost frantically.Eleanor slid off the bed soundlessly and huddledwith them. Mouse immediately climbed into herlap. He was shaking and wet, and he wrapped hisarms and legs around Eleanor like a monkey.Their mother shrieked, two rooms away, and theyall five jumped together.

If this had happened two summers ago,Eleanor would have run and banged on the doorherself. She would have yelled at Richie to stop.She would have called 911 at the very, very, veryleast. But now that seemed like something a childwould do, or a fool. Now, all she could thinkabout was what they were going to do if the baby

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actually started to cry. Thank God he didn’t.Even he seemed to realize that trying to makethis stop would only ever make it worse.

When her alarm went off the next morning,Eleanor couldn’t remember having fallen tosleep. She couldn’t remember when the cryinghad stopped.

A horrible thought came to her, and she gotup, stumbling over the kids and the blankets. Sheopened the bedroom door and smelled bacon.

Which meant that her mother was alive.And that her stepdad was probably still eating

breakfast.Eleanor took a deep breath. She smelled like

pee. God. The cleanest clothes she had were theones she wore yesterday, which Tina wouldsurely point out, because it was a goddamn gymday on top of everything else.

She grabbed her clothes and stepped pur-posely out into the living room, determined not tomake eye contact with Richie if he was there. Hewas. (That demon. That bastard.) Her mother

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was standing at the stove, standing more still thanusual. You couldn’t not notice the bruise on theside of her face. Or the hickey under her chin.(That fuck, that fuck, that fuck.)

‘Mom,’ Eleanor whispered urgently, ‘I haveto clean off.’ Her mother’s eyes slowly focusedon her.

‘What?’Eleanor gestured at her clothes, which prob-

ably just looked wrinkled. ‘I slept on the floorwith Mouse.’

Her mother glanced nervously into the livingroom; Richie would punish Mouse if he knew.‘Okay, okay,’ she said, pushing Eleanor into thebathroom. ‘Give me your clothes, I’ll watch thedoor. And don’t let him smell it. I don’t need thisthis morning.’

As if Eleanor was the one who’d peed allover everything.

She washed off the top half of her body, thenthe bottom, so that she wouldn’t ever be totallynaked. Then she walked back through the living

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room, wearing yesterday’s clothes, trying reallyhard not to smell like pee.

Her books were in her bedroom, but Eleanordidn’t want to open the door and let out any moreacrid air – so she just left.

She got to the bus stop fifteen minutes early.She still felt rumpled and panicked, and, thanksto the bacon, her stomach was growling.

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CHAPTER 12

Park

When Park got on the bus, he set the comics andSmiths tape on the seat next to him, so they’d justbe waiting for her. So he wouldn’t have to sayanything.

When she got on the bus a few minutes later,Park could tell that something was wrong. Shegot on like she was lost and ended up there. Shewas wearing the same thing she’d worn yesterday– which wasn’t that weird, she was always wear-ing a different version of the same thing – buttoday was different. Her neck and wrists werebare, and her hair was a mess – a pile, an all-overglob, of red curls.

She stopped at their seat and looked down atthe pile of stuff he’d left for her. (Where were her

schoolbooks? He wondered) Then she pickedeverything up, careful as ever, and sat down.

Park wanted to look at her face, but hecouldn’t. He stared at her wrists instead. Shepicked up the cassette. He’d written ‘How Soonis Now and More’ on the thin white sticker.

She held it out to him.‘Thank you …’ she said. Now that was

something he’d never heard her say before. ‘But Ican’t.’

He didn’t take it.‘It’s for you, take it,’ he whispered. He

looked up from her hands to her dropped chin.‘No,’ she said, ‘I mean, thank you, but … I

can’t.’ She tried to give him the tape, but hedidn’t take it. Why did she have to make everylittle thing so hard?

‘I don’t want it,’ he said.She clenched her teeth and glared. She really

must hate him.‘No,’ she said, practically loud enough for

other people to hear. ‘I mean, I can’t. I don’t

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have any way to listen to it. God, just take itback.’

He took it. She covered her face. The kid inthe seat across from them, a twerpy senior whowas actually named Junior, was watching.

Park frowned at Junior until he turned away.Then Park turned back to the girl …

He took his Walkman out of the pocket of histrench coat and popped out his Dead Kennedystape. He slid the new tape in, pressed play, then –carefully – put the headphones over her hair. Hewas so careful, he didn’t even touch her.

He could hear the swampy guitar start andthen the first line of the song. ‘I am the son …and the heir …’

She lifted her head a little but didn’t look athim. She didn’t move her hands away from herface.

When they got to school, she took the head-phones off and gave them back to him.

They got off the bus together and stayed to-gether. Which was weird. Usually, they broke

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away from each other as soon as they hit the side-walk. That’s what seemed weird now, Parkthought; they walked the same way every day,her locker was just down the hall from his – howhad they managed to go their separate ways everymorning?

Park stopped for a minute when they got toher locker. He didn’t step close to her, but hestopped. She stopped, too.

‘Well,’ he said, looking down the hall, ‘nowyou’ve heard the Smiths.’

And she …Eleanor laughed.

Eleanor

She should have just taken the tape.She didn’t need to be telling everybody what

she had and didn’t have. She didn’t need to betelling weird Asian kids anything.

Weird Asian kid.

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She was pretty sure he was Asian. It was hardto tell. He had green eyes. And skin the color ofsunshine through honey.

Maybe he was Filipino. Was that in Asia?Probably. Asia’s out-of-control huge.

Eleanor had only known one Asian person inher life – Paul, who was in her math class at herold school. Paul was Chinese. His parents hadmoved to Omaha to get away from the Chinesegovernment. (Which seemed like an extremechoice. Like they’d looked at the globe and said,‘Yup. That’s as far away as possible.’)

Paul was the one who’d taught Eleanor to say‘Asian’ and not ‘oriental.’ ‘Oriental’s for food,’he’d said.

‘Whatever, LaChoy Boy,’ she’d said back.Eleanor couldn’t figure out what an Asian

person was doing in the Flats anyway. Everybodyelse here was seriously white. Like, white bychoice. Eleanor had never even heard the n-wordsaid out loud until she moved here, but the kidson her bus used it like it was the only way to

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indicate that somebody was black. Like there wasno other word or phrase that would work.

Eleanor stayed away from the n-word even inher head. It was bad enough that, thanks to Rich-ie’s influence, she went around mentally callingeveryone she met a ‘motherfucker.’ (Irony.)

There were three or four other Asian kids attheir school. Cousins. One of them had written anessay about being a refugee from Laos.

And then there was Ol’ Green Eyes.Who she was apparently going to tell her

whole life story to. Maybe on the way home,she’d tell him that she didn’t have a phone or awashing machine or a toothbrush.

That last thing, she was thinking about tellingher counselor. Mrs Dunne had sat Eleanor downon her first day of school and given a little speechabout how Eleanor could tell her anything. Allthrough the speech, she kept squeezing the fattestpart of Eleanor’s arm.

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If Eleanor told Mrs Dunne everything – aboutRichie, her mom, everything – Eleanor didn’tknow what would happen.

But if she told Mrs Dunne about the tooth-brush … maybe Mrs Dunne would just get herone. And then Eleanor could stop sneaking intothe bathroom after lunch to rub her teeth withsalt. (She’d seen that in a Western once. It prob-ably didn’t even work.)

The bell rang. 10:12.Just two more periods until English. She

wondered if he’d talk to her in class. Maybethat’s what they did now.

She could still hear that voice in her head –not his – the singer’s. From the Smiths. Youcould hear his accent, even when he was singing.He sounded like he was crying out.

‘I am the sun …And the air …’

Eleanor didn’t notice at first how un-horribleeveryone was being in gym. (Her head was stillon the bus.) They were playing volleyball today,

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and once Tina said, ‘Your serve, bitch,’ but thatwas it, and that was practically jocular, all-things-Tina considered.

When Eleanor got to the locker room, sherealized why Tina had been so low-key; she wasjust waiting. Tina and her friends – and the blackgirls, too, everybody wanted a piece of this –were standing at the end of Eleanor’s row, wait-ing for her to walk to her locker.

It was covered with Kotex pads. A wholebox, it looked like.

At first Eleanor thought the pads were actu-ally bloody, but when she got closer she couldsee that it was just red magic marker. Somebodyhad written ‘Raghead’ and ‘Big Red’ on a few ofthe pads, but they were the expensive kind, so theink was already starting to absorb.

If Eleanor’s clothes weren’t in that locker, ifshe was wearing anything other than this gym-suit, she would have just walked away.

Instead she walked past the girls, with herchin as high as she could manage, and

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methodically peeled the pads off her locker.There were even some inside, stuck to herclothes.

Eleanor cried a little bit, she couldn’t help it,but she kept her back to everybody so therewouldn’t be a show. It was all over in a fewminutes anyway because nobody wanted to belate to lunch. Most of the girls still had to changeand redo their hair.

After everyone else walked away, two blackgirls stayed. They walked over to Eleanor andstarted pulling pads off the wall. ‘Ain’t no thing,’one of the girls whispered, crumpling a pad into aball. Her name was DeNice, and she looked tooyoung to be in the tenth grade. She was small,and she wore her hair in two braided pigtails.

Eleanor shook her head, but didn’t sayanything.

‘Those girls are trifling,’ DeNice said.‘They’re so insignificant, God can hardly seethem.’

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‘Hmm-hmm,’ the other girl agreed. Eleanorwas pretty sure her name was Beebi. Beebi waswhat Eleanor’s mom would call ‘a big girl.’Much bigger than Eleanor. Beebi’s gymsuit waseven a different color than everybody else’s, likethey’d had to special order it for her. Whichmade Eleanor feel bad about feeling so bad abouther own body … And which also made her won-der why she was the official fat girl in the class.

They threw the pads in the trash and pushedthem under some wet paper towels so thatnobody would find them.

If DeNice and Beebi hadn’t been standingthere, Eleanor might have kept some of the pads,the ones that didn’t have any writing on them be-cause, God, what a waste.

She was late to lunch, then late to English.And if she didn’t know already that she liked thatstupid effing Asian kid, she knew it now.

Because even after everything that hadhappened in the last forty-five minutes – andeverything that had happened in the last twenty-

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four hours – all Eleanor could think about wasseeing Park.

Park

When they got back on the bus, she took hisWalkman without arguing. And without makinghim put it on for her. At the stop before hers, shehanded it back.

‘You can borrow it,’ he said quietly. ‘Listento the rest of the tape.’

‘I don’t want to break it,’ she said.‘You’re not going to break it.’‘I don’t want to use up the batteries.’‘I don’t care about the batteries.’She looked up at him then, in the eye, maybe

for the first time ever. Her hair looked even crazi-er than it had this morning – more frizzy thancurly, like she was working on a big red afro. Buther eyes were dead serious, cold sober. Anycliché you’ve ever heard used to describe ClintEastwood, those were Eleanor’s eyes.

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‘Really,’ she said. ‘You don’t care.’‘They’re just batteries,’ he said.She emptied the batteries and the tape from

Park’s Walkman, handed it back to him, then gotoff the bus without looking back.

God, she was weird.

Eleanor

The batteries started to die at 1:00 a.m., butEleanor kept listening for another hour until thevoices slowed to a stop.

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CHAPTER 13

Eleanor

She remembered her books today, and she waswearing fresh clothes. She’d had to wash herjeans out in the bathtub last night, so they werestill kind of damp … But altogether, Eleanor felta thousand times better than she had yesterday.Even her hair was halfway cooperating. She’dclumped it up into a bun and wrapped it with arubber band. It was going to hurt like crazy tryingto tear the rubber band out, but at least it wasstaying for now.

Best of all, she had Park’s songs in her head –and in her chest, somehow.

There was something about the music on thattape. It felt different. Like, it set her lungs andher stomach on edge. There was something

exciting about it, and something nervous. It madeEleanor feel like everything, like the world,wasn’t what she’d thought it was. And that was agood thing. That was the greatest thing.

When she got on the bus that morning, sheimmediately lifted her head to find Park. He waslooking up too, like he was waiting for her. Shecouldn’t help it, she grinned. Just for a second.

As soon as she sat down, Eleanor slunk lowin the seat, so the back-of-the-bus ruffianswouldn’t be able to see from the top of her headhow happy she felt.

She could feel Park sitting next to her, eventhough he was at least six inches away.

She handed him yesterday’s comics, thentugged nervously at the green ribbon woundround her wrist. She couldn’t think of what tosay. She started to worry that maybe shewouldn’t say anything, that she wouldn’t eventhank him …

Park’s hands were perfectly still in his lap.And perfectly perfect. Honey-colored with clean,

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pink fingernails. Everything about him wasstrong and slender. Every time he moved he hada reason.

They were almost to school when he brokethe silence.

‘Did you listen?’She nodded, letting her eyes climb as high as

his shoulders.‘Did you like it?’ he asked.She rolled her eyes. ‘Oh my God. It was …

just, like …’ – she spread out all her fingers – ‘soawesome.’

‘Are you being sarcastic? I can’t tell.’She looked up at his face, even though she

knew how that was going to feel, like someonewas hooking her insides out through her chest.

‘No. It was awesome. I didn’t want to stoplistening. That one song – is it “Love Will TearUs Apart”?’

‘Yeah, Joy Division.’‘Oh my God, that’s the best beginning to a

song ever.’

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He imitated the guitar and the drums.‘Yeah, yeah, yeah,’ she said. ‘I just wanted to

listen to those three seconds over and over.’‘You could have.’ His eyes were smiling, his

mouth only sort of.‘I didn’t want to waste the batteries,’ she said.He shook his head, like she was dumb.‘Plus,’ she said, ‘I love the rest of it just as

much, like the high part, the melody, the dahhh,dah-de-dah-dah, de-dahh, de dahhh.’

He nodded.‘And his voice at the end,’ she said, ‘when he

goes just a little bit too high … And then the veryend, where it sounds like the drums are fightingit, like they don’t want the song to be over …’

Park made drum noises with his mouth: ‘ch-ch-ch, ch-ch-ch.’

‘I just want to break that song into pieces,’she said, ‘and love them all to death.’

That made him laugh.‘What about the Smiths?’ he asked.‘I didn’t know who was who,’ she said.

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‘I’ll write it down for you.’‘I liked it all.’‘Good,’ he said.‘I loved it.’He smiled, but turned away to look out the

window. She looked down.They were pulling into the parking lot. Elean-

or didn’t want this new talking thing – like, reallytalking, back and forth and smiling at each other– to stop.

‘And …’ she said quickly, ‘I love the X-Men.But I hate Cyclops.’

He whipped his head back.‘You can’t hate Cyclops. He’s team captain.’‘He’s boring. He’s worse than Batman.’‘What? You hate Batman?’‘God. So boring. I can’t even make myself

read it. Whenever you bring Batman, I catch my-self listening to Steve, or staring out the window,wishing I was in hypersleep.’ The bus came to astop.

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‘Huh,’ Park said, standing up. He said itreally judgmentally.

‘What?’‘Now I know what you’re thinking when you

stare out the window.’‘No, you don’t,’ she said. ‘I mix it up.’Everybody else was pushing down the aisle

past them. Eleanor stood up, too.‘I’m bringing you The Dark Knight Returns,’

he said.‘What’s that?’‘Only the least boring Batman story ever.’‘The least boring Batman story ever, huh?

Does Batman raise both eyebrows?’He laughed again. His face completely

changed when he laughed. He didn’t havedimples, exactly, but the sides of his face foldedin on themselves, and his eyes almostdisappeared.

‘Just wait,’ he said.

Park

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That morning, in English, Park noticed thatEleanor’s hair came to a soft red point on theback of her neck.

Eleanor

That afternoon, in history, Eleanor noticed thatPark chewed on his pencil when he was thinking.And that the girl sitting behind him – what’s hername, Kim, with the giant breasts and the orangeEsprit bag – obviously had a crush on him.

Park

That night, Park made a tape with the Joy Divi-sion song on it, over and over again.

He emptied all his handheld video games andJosh’s remote-control cars, and called hisgrandma to tell her that all he wanted for hisbirthday in November was double-A batteries.

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CHAPTER 14

Eleanor

‘I know she doesn’t think I’m going to jump overthat thing,’ DeNice said.

DeNice and the other girl, the big girl, Beebi,talked to Eleanor now in gym. (Because being as-saulted with maxi pads is a great way to winfriends and influence people.)

Today in class, their gym teacher, Mrs Burt,had shown them how to swing over a thousand-year-old gymnastics horse. She said that nexttime everybody had to try.

‘She has got another thing coming,’ DeNicesaid after class, in the locker room. ‘Do I looklike Mary Lou Retton?’

Beebi giggled. ‘Better tell her you didn’t eatyour Wheaties.’

Actually, Eleanor thought, DeNice did kindof look like a gymnast. With her little-girl bangsand braids. She looked way too young to be inhigh school, and her clothes just made it worse.Puffed-sleeve shirts, overalls, matching ponytailballs … She wore her gymsuit baggy, like aromper.

Eleanor wasn’t scared of the horse, but shedidn’t want to have to run down the mats with thewhole class watching her. She didn’t want to run,period. It made her breasts feel like they were go-ing to detach from her body.

‘I’m going to tell Mrs Burt that my momdoesn’t want me to do anything that might rup-ture my hymen,’ Eleanor said. ‘For religiousreasons.’

‘For real?’ Beebi asked.‘No,’ Eleanor said, giggling. ‘Well. Actually

…’‘You’re nasty,’ DeNice said, hitching up her

overalls.

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Eleanor put her T-shirt on over her head thenwriggled out of her gymsuit, using the shirt ascover.

‘Are you coming?’ DeNice asked.‘Well, I’m probably not going to start skip-

ping class now just because of gymnastics,’Eleanor said, hopping to pull up her jeans.

‘No, are you coming to lunch?’‘Oh,’ Eleanor said, looking up. They were

waiting for her at the end of the lockers. ‘Yeah.’‘Then hurry up, Miss Jackson.’She sat with DeNice and Beebi at their usual

table by the windows. During passing period,Eleanor saw Park walk by.

Park

‘Why can’t you get your driver’s license byhomecoming?’ Cal asked.

Mr Stessman had them in small groups. Theywere supposed to be comparing Juliet to Ophelia.

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‘Because I can’t bend time and space,’ Parksaid. Eleanor was sitting across the room by thewindows. She was paired up with a guy namedEric, a basketball player. He was talking, andEleanor was frowning at him.

‘If you had your car,’ Cal said, ‘we could askKim.’

‘You can ask Kim,’ Park said.Eric was one of those tall guys who always

walked with his shoulders about a foot behind hiships. Constantly doing the limbo. Like he wasafraid to hit his head on every door jamb.

‘She wants to go with a group,’ Cal said.‘Plus I think she likes you.’

‘What? I don’t want to go to homecomingwith Kim. I don’t even like her. I mean, youknow … You like her.’

‘I know. That’s why the plan works. We allgo to homecoming together. She figures out youdon’t like her, she’s miserable, and guess who’sstanding right there, asking her to slow dance?’

‘I don’t want to make Kim miserable.’

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‘It’s her or me, man.’Eric said something else, and Eleanor

frowned again. Then she looked over at Park –and stopped frowning. Park smiled.

‘One minute,’ Mr Stessman said.‘Crap,’ Cal said. ‘What have we got …

Ophelia was bonkers, right? And Juliet was what,a sixth-grader?’

Eleanor

‘So Psylocke is another girl telepath?’‘Uh-huh,’ Park said.Every morning when Eleanor got on the bus,

she worried that Park wouldn’t take off his head-phones. That he would stop talking to her as sud-denly as he’d started … And if that happened – ifshe got on the bus one day and he didn’t look up– she didn’t want him to see how devastated itwould make her.

So far, it hadn’t happened.

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So far, they hadn’t stopped talking. Like, lit-erally. They talked every second they were sittingnext to each other. And almost every conversa-tion started with the words ‘what do you think…’

What did Eleanor think about that U2 album?She loved it.

What did Park think of Miami Vice? Hethought it was boring.

‘Yes,’ they said when they agreed with eachother. Back and forth – ‘Yes,’ ‘Yes,’ ‘Yes!’

‘I know.’‘Exactly.’‘Right?’They agreed about everything important and

argued about everything else. And that was good,too, because whenever they argued, Eleanorcould always crack Park up.

‘Why do the X-Men need another girl tele-path?’ she asked.

‘This one has purple hair.’‘It’s all so sexist.’

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Park’s eyes got wide. Well, sort of wide. So-metimes she wondered if the shape of his eyes af-fected how he saw things. That was probably themost racist question of all time.

‘The X-Men aren’t sexist,’ he said, shakinghis head. ‘They’re a metaphor for acceptance;they’ve sworn to protect a world that hates andfears them.’

‘Yeah,’ she said, ‘but …’‘There’s no but,’ he said, laughing.‘But,’ Eleanor insisted, ‘the girls are all so

stereotypically girly and passive. Half of themjust think really hard. Like that’s their super-power, thinking. And Shadowcat’s power is evenworse – she disappears.’

‘She becomes intangible,’ Park said. ‘That’sdifferent.’

‘It’s still something you could do in themiddle of a tea party,’ Eleanor said.

‘Not if you were holding hot tea. Plus, you’reforgetting Storm.’

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‘I’m not forgetting Storm. She controls theweather with her head; it’s still just thinking.Which is about all she could do in those boots.’

‘She has a cool Mohawk …’ Park said.‘Irrelevant,’ Eleanor answered.Park leaned his head back against the seat,

smiling, and looked at the ceiling. ‘The X-Menaren’t sexist.’

‘Are you trying to think of an empowered X-woman?’ Eleanor asked. ‘How about Dazzler?She’s a living disco ball. Or the White Queen?She thinks really hard while wearing spotlesswhite lingerie.’

‘What kind of power would you want?’ heasked, changing the subject. He turned his facetoward her, laying his cheek against the top of theseat. Smiling.

‘I’d want to fly,’ Eleanor said, looking awayfrom him. ‘I know it’s not very useful, but … it’sflying.’

‘Yes,’ he said.

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Park

‘Damn, Park, are you going on a Ninja mission?’‘Ninjas wear black, Steve.’‘What?’Park should have gone inside to change after

taekwando, but his dad said he had to be back by9:00, and that gave him less than an hour to showEleanor.

Steve was outside working on his Camaro.He didn’t have his license yet either, but he wasgetting ready.

‘Going to see your girlfriend?’ he called toPark.

‘What?’‘Sneaking out to see your girlfriend? Bloody

Mary?’‘She’s not my girlfriend,’ Park said, then

swallowed.‘Sneaking out Ninja-style,’ Steve said.Park shook his head and broke into a run.

Well, she wasn’t, he thought to himself, cuttingthrough the alley.

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He didn’t know where Eleanor lived, exactly.He knew where she got on the bus, and he knewthat she lived next to the school …

It must be this one, he thought. He stopped ata small white house. There were a few brokentoys in the yard, and a giant Rottweiler wasasleep on the porch.

Park walked toward the house slowly. Thedog lifted its head and watched him for a second,then settled back to sleep. It didn’t move, evenwhen Park climbed the steps and knocked on thedoor.

The guy who answered looked too young tobe Eleanor’s dad. Park was pretty sure he’d seenthis guy around the neighborhood. He didn’tknow who he’d expected to come to the door.Somebody more exotic. Somebody more like her.

The guy didn’t even say anything. Just stoodat the door and waited.

‘Is Eleanor home?’ Park asked.‘Who wants to know?’ He had a nose like a

knife, and he looked straight down it at Park.

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‘We go to school together,’ Park said.The guy looked at Park for another second,

then closed the door. Park wasn’t sure what todo. He waited for a few minutes, then right as hewas thinking about leaving, Eleanor opened thedoor just enough to slide through.

Her eyes were round with alarm. In the darklike this, it didn’t even look like she had irises.

As soon as he saw her, he knew it had been amistake to come here – he felt like he shouldhave known that sooner. He’d been so caught upin showing her …

‘Hey,’ he said.‘Hi.’‘I …’‘… came to challenge me in hand-to-hand

combat?’Park reached into the front of his dobak and

pulled out the second issue of Watchmen. Herface lit up; she was so pale, so luminous underthe street light, that wasn’t just an expression.

‘Have you read it?’ she asked.

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He shook his head. ‘I thought we could …together.’

Eleanor glanced back at the house, thenstepped quickly off the steps. He followed herdown the steps, across the gravel driveway, to theback stoop of the elementary school. There was abig safety light over the door. Eleanor sat on thetop step, and Park sat next to her.

It took twice as long to read Watchmen as itdid any other comic, and it took even longer to-night because it was so strange to be sitting to-gether somewhere other than on the bus. To evensee each other outside of school. Eleanor’s hairwas wet and hanging in long, dark curls aroundher face.

When they got to the last page, all Parkwanted to do was sit and talk about it. (All hereally wanted to do was sit and talk to Eleanor.)But she was already standing up and lookingback at her house.

‘I’ve got to go,’ she said.‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Okay. I guess I do, too.’

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She left him sitting on the elementary schoolsteps. She was disappearing inside the house be-fore he could think about saying goodbye.

Eleanor

When she walked back into the house, the livingroom was dark, but the TV was on. Eleanor couldsee Richie sitting on the couch and her momstanding in the doorway of the kitchen.

It was just a few steps to her room …‘Is that your boyfriend?’ Richie asked before

she made it. He didn’t look up from the TV.‘No,’ she said. ‘He’s just a boy from school.’‘What did he want?’‘To talk to me about an assignment.’She waited in her bedroom doorway. Then,

when Richie didn’t say anything more, shestepped inside, shutting the door behind her.

‘I know what you’re up to,’ he said, raisinghis voice, just as the door closed. ‘Nothing but abitch in heat.’

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Eleanor let his words hit her full on. Tookthem right on the chin.

She climbed into bed and clenched her eyesand jaw and fists – held everything clenched untilshe could breathe without screaming.

Until this moment, she’d kept Park in a placein her head that she thought Richie couldn’t getto. Completely separate from this house andeverything that happened here. (It was a prettyawesome place. Like the only part of her head fitfor praying.)

But now Richie was in there, just pissing allover everything. Making everything she felt feelas rank and rotten as him.

Now she couldn’t think about Park …About the way he looked in the dark, dressed

in white, like a superhero.About the way he smelled, like sweat and bar

soap.About the way he smiled when he liked

something, with his lips just turned up at thecorners …

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Without feeling Richie leer.She kicked the cat out of the bed, just to be

mean. He squawked, but jumped right back up.‘Eleanor,’ Maisie whispered from the bottom

bunk, ‘was that your boyfriend?’Eleanor crushed her teeth together. ‘No,’ she

whispered back viciously. ‘He’s just a boy.’

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CHAPTER 15

Eleanor

Her mother stood in the bedroom the next morn-ing while Eleanor got ready. ‘Here,’ shewhispered, taking the hairbrush and drawingEleanor’s hair into a ponytail without brushingout the curl.

‘Eleanor …’ she said.‘I know why you’re in here,’ Eleanor said,

pulling away. ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’‘Just listen.’‘No. I know. He won’t come back, okay? I

didn’t invite him, but I’ll tell him, and he won’tcome back.’

‘Okay, well … good,’ her mom said, foldingher arms, still whispering. ‘It’s just that you’re soyoung.’

‘No,’ Eleanor said, ‘that’s not what it is. Butit doesn’t even matter. He won’t come back,okay? It isn’t even like that anyway.’

Her mom left the room. Richie was still in thehouse. Eleanor ran out the front door when sheheard him turn on the bathroom sink.

It’s not even like that, she thought as shewalked to the bus stop. And thinking it made herwant to cry, because she knew it was true.

And wanting to cry just made her angry.Because if she was going to cry about

something, it was going to be the fact that her lifewas complete shit – not because some cool, cuteguy didn’t like her like that.

Especially when just being Park’s friend waspretty much the best thing that had ever happenedto her.

She must have looked ticked off when she goton the bus because Park didn’t say hi when shesat down.

Eleanor looked into the aisle.

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After a few seconds, he reached over andpulled at the old silk scarf she’d tied around herwrist.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said.‘For what?’ She even sounded angry. God,

she was a jerk.‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I feel like maybe I

got you in trouble last night …’He pulled on the scarf again, so she looked at

him. She tried not to look mad – but she’d ratherlook mad than look like she’d spent all nightthinking about how beautiful his lips are.

‘Was that your dad?’ he asked.She jerked her head back. ‘No. No, that was

my … mother’s husband. He’s not really my any-thing. My problem, I guess.’

‘Did you get in trouble?’‘Sort of.’ She really didn’t want to talk to

Park about Richie. She’d just about scraped allthe Richie off the Park place in her head.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said again.

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‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘It wasn’t your fault.Anyway, thanks for bringing Watchmen. I’m gladI got to read it.’

‘It was cool, huh?’‘Oh, yeah. Kind of brutal. I mean that part

with the Comedian …’‘Yeah … sorry.’‘No, I didn’t mean that. I mean … I think I

need to reread it.’‘I read it again twice last night. You can take

it tonight.’‘Yeah? Thanks.’He was still holding the end of her scarf, rub-

bing the silk idly between his thumb and fingers.She watched his hand.

If he were to look up at her now, he’d knowexactly how stupid she was. She could feel herface go soft and gummy. If Park were to look upat her now, he’d know everything.

He didn’t look up. He wound the scarf aroundhis fingers until her hand was hanging in thespace between them.

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Then he slid the silk and his fingers into heropen palm.

And Eleanor disintegrated.

Park

Holding Eleanor’s hand was like holding a but-terfly. Or a heartbeat. Like holding somethingcomplete, and completely alive.

As soon as he touched her, he wondered howhe’d gone this long without doing it. He rubbedhis thumb through her palm and up her fingers,and was aware of her every breath.

Park had held hands with girls before. Girls atSkateland. A girl at the ninth-grade dance lastyear. (They’d kissed while they waited for herdad to pick them up.) He’d even held Tina’shand, back when they ‘went’ together in the sixthgrade.

And always, before, it had been fine. Notmuch different from holding Josh’s hand whenthey were little kids crossing the street. Or

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holding his grandma’s hand when she took himto church. Maybe a little sweatier, a little moreawkward.

When he’d kissed that girl last year, with hismouth dry and his eyes mostly open, Park hadwondered if maybe there was something wrongwith him.

He’d even wondered – seriously, while hewas kissing her, he’d wondered this – whether hemight be gay. Except he didn’t feel like kissingany guys either. And if he thought about She-Hulk or Storm (instead of this girl, Dawn) thekissing got a lot better.

Maybe I’m not attracted to real girls, he’dthought at the time. Maybe I’m some sort ofperverted cartoon-sexual.

Or maybe, he thought now, he just didn’t re-cognize all those other girls. The way a computerdrive will spit out a disk if it doesn’t recognizethe formatting.

When he touched Eleanor’s hand, he recog-nized her. He knew.

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Eleanor

Disintegrated.Like something had gone wrong beaming her

onto the Starship Enterprise.If you’ve ever wondered what that feels like,

it’s a lot like melting – but more violent.Even in a million different pieces, Eleanor

could still feel Park holding her hand. Could stillfeel his thumb exploring her palm. She sat com-pletely still because she didn’t have any other op-tion. She tried to remember what kind of animalsparalyzed their prey before they ate them …

Maybe Park had paralyzed her with his ninjamagic, his Vulcan handhold, and now he was go-ing to eat her.

That would be awesome.

Park

They broke apart when the bus stopped. A floodof reality rushed through Park, and he lookedaround nervously to see if anyone had been

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watching them. Then he looked nervously atEleanor to see if she’d noticed him looking.

She was still staring at the floor, even as shepicked up her books and stood in the aisle.

If someone had been watching, what wouldthey have seen? Park couldn’t imagine what hisface had looked like when he touched Eleanor.Like somebody taking the first drink in a DietPepsi commercial. Over-the-top bliss.

He stood behind her in the aisle. She was justabout his height. Her hair was pulled up, and herneck was flushed and splotchy. He resisted theurge to lay his cheek against it.

He walked with her all the way to her locker,and leaned against the wall as she opened it. Shedidn’t say anything, just shifted some books ontothe shelf and took down a few others.

As the buzz of touching her faded, he wasstarting to realize that Eleanor hadn’t actuallydone anything to touch him back. She hadn’t benther fingers around his. She hadn’t even looked athim. She still hadn’t looked at him. Jesus.

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He knocked gently on her locker door.‘Hey,’ he said.She shut the door. ‘Hey, what?’‘Okay?’ he asked.She nodded.‘I’ll see you in English?’ he asked.She nodded and walked away.Jesus.

Eleanor

All through first and second and third hour,Eleanor rubbed her palm.

Nothing happened.How could it be possible that there were that

many nerve endings all in one place?And were they always there, or did they just

flip on whenever they felt like it? Because, ifthey were always there, how did she manage toturn doorknobs without fainting?

Maybe this was why so many people said itfelt better to drive a stick shift.

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Park

Jesus. Was it possible to rape somebody’s hand?Eleanor wouldn’t look at Park during English

and history. He went to her locker after school,but she wasn’t there.

When he got on the bus, she was already sit-ting in their seat – but sitting in his spot, againstthe wall. He was too embarrassed to say any-thing. He sat down next to her and let his handshang between his knees …

Which meant she really had to reach for hiswrist, to pull his hand into hers. She wrapped herfingers around his and touched his palm with herthumb.

Her fingers were trembling.Park shifted in his seat and turned his back to

the aisle.‘Okay?’ she whispered.He nodded, taking a deep breath. They both

stared down at their hands.Jesus.

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CHAPTER 16

Eleanor

Saturdays were the worst.On Sundays, Eleanor could think all day

about how close it was to Monday. But Saturdayswere ten years long.

She’d already finished her homework. Somecreep had written ‘do i make you wet?’ on hergeography book, so she spent a really long timecovering it up with a black ink pen. She tried toturn it into some kind of flower.

She watched cartoons with the little kids untilgolf came on, then played double solitaire withMaisie until they were both bored stupid.

Later, she’d listen to music. She’d saved thelast two batteries Park had given her so that shecould listen to her tape player today when she

missed him most. She had five tapes from himnow – which meant, if her batteries lasted, shehad four hundred and fifty minutes to spend withPark in her head, holding his hand.

Maybe it was stupid, but that’s what she didwith him, even in her fantasies – even where any-thing was possible. As far as Eleanor was con-cerned, that just showed how wonderful it was tohold Park’s hand.

(Besides they didn’t just hold hands. Parktouched her hands like they were something rareand precious, like her fingers were intimatelyconnected to the rest of her body. Which, ofcourse, they were. It was hard to explain. Hemade her feel like more than the sum of herparts.)

The only bad thing about their new busroutine was that it had seriously cut back on theirconversations. She could hardly look at Parkwhen he was touching her. And Park seemed tohave a hard time finishing his sentences. (Whichmeant he liked her. Ha.)

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Yesterday, on the way home from school,their bus had to take a fifteen-minute detour be-cause of a busted sewer pipe. Steve had startedcussing about how he needed to get to his newjob at the gas station. And Park had said, ‘Wow.’

‘What?’ Eleanor sat by the wall now, becauseit made her feel safer, less exposed. She could al-most pretend that they had the bus to themselves.

‘I can actually burst sewers with my mind,’Park said.

‘That’s a very limited mutation,’ she said.‘What do they call you?’

‘They call me … um …’ And then he’d star-ted laughing and pulled at one of her curls. (Thatwas a new, awesome development – the hairtouching. Sometimes he’d come up behind herafter school, and tug at her ponytail or tap the topof her bun.)

‘I … don’t know what they call me,’ he said.‘Maybe the Public Works,’ she said, laying

her hand on top of his, finger to finger. Her

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fingertips came to his last knuckle. It might bethe only part of her that was smaller than him.

‘You’re like a little girl,’ he said.‘What do you mean?’‘Your hands. They just look …’ He took her

hand in both of his. ‘I don’t know … vulnerable.’‘Pipemaster,’ she whispered.‘What?’‘That’s your superhero name. No, wait – the

Piper. Like, “Time to pay the Piper!”’He laughed and pulled at another curl.That was the most talking they’d done in two

weeks. She’d started to write him a letter – she’dstarted it a million times – but that seemed likesuch a seventh-grade thing to do. What could shewrite?

‘Dear Park, I like you. You have really cutehair.’

He did have really cute hair. Really, really.Short in the back, but kind of long and fanned outin the front. It was completely straight and almostcompletely black, which, on Park, seemed like a

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lifestyle choice. He always wore black, practic-ally head to toe. Black punk rock T-shirts overblack thermal long-sleeved shirts. Black sneak-ers. Blue jeans. Almost all black, almost everyday. (He did have one white T-shirt, but it said‘Black Flag’ on the front in big, black letters.)

Whenever Eleanor wore black, her mom saidthat she looked like she was going to a funeral –in a coffin. Anyway, her mom used to say stufflike that, back when she occasionally noticedwhat Eleanor was wearing. Eleanor had taken allthe safety pins from her mom’s sewing kit andused them to pin scraps of silk and velvet overthe holes in her jeans, and her mom hadn’t evenmentioned it.

Park looked good in black. It made him looklike he was drawn in charcoal. Thick, arched,black eyebrows. Short, black lashes. High, shin-ing cheeks.

‘Dear Park, I like you so much. You havereally beautiful cheeks.’

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The only thing she didn’t like to think about,about Park, was what he could possibly see inher.

Park

The pick-up kept dying.Park’s dad wasn’t saying anything, but Park

knew he was getting pissed.‘Try again,’ his dad said. ‘Just listen to the

engine, then shift.’That was an oversimplification if Park had

ever heard one. Listen to the engine, depress theclutch, shift, gas, release, steer, check your mir-rors, signal your turn, look twice for motorcycles…

The crappy part was that he was pretty surehe could do it if his dad wasn’t sitting there, fum-ing. Park could see himself doing it in his headjust fine.

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It was like this at taekwando sometimes, too.Park could never master something new if hisdad was the one teaching it.

Clutch, shift, gas.The pick-up died.‘You’re thinking too much,’ his dad snapped.Which is what his dad always said. When

Park was a kid, he’d try to argue with him. ‘Ican’t help but think,’ Park would say during taek-wando. ‘I can’t turn off my brain.’

‘If you fight like that, somebody’s going toturn it off for you.’

Clutch, shift, grind.‘Start it again … Now don’t think, just shift

… I said, don’t think.’The truck died again. Park put his hands at

ten and two and laid his head on the steeringwheel, bracing himself. His dad was radiatingfrustration.

‘Goddamn, Park, I don’t know what to dowith you. We’ve been working on this for a year.I taught your brother to drive in two weeks.’

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If his mom were here, she would have calledfoul at this. ‘You don’t do that,’ she’d say. ‘Twoboys. Different.’

And his dad would grit his teeth.‘I guess Josh doesn’t have any trouble not

thinking,’ Park said.‘Call your brother stupid all you want,’ his

dad said. ‘He can drive a manual transmission.’‘But I’m only ever gonna get to drive the Im-

pala,’ Park muttered into the dash, ‘and it’s anautomatic.’

‘That isn’t the point,’ his dad half shouted. IfPark’s mom were here, she would have said,‘Hey, mister, I don’t think so. You go outside andyell at sky, you so angry.’

What did it say about Park that he wished hismom would follow him around defending him?

That he was a pussy.That’s what his dad thought. It’s probably

what he was thinking now. He was probably be-ing so quiet because he was trying not to say itout loud.

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‘Try it again,’ his dad said.‘No, I’m done.’‘You’re done when I say you’re done.’‘No,’ Park said, ‘I’m done now.’‘Well, I’m not driving us home. Try it again.’Park started the truck. It died. His dad

slammed his giant hand against the glove box.Park opened the truck door and jumped to theground. His dad shouted his name, but Park keptwalking. They were only a couple miles fromhome.

If his dad drove by him on the way home,Park didn’t notice. When he got back to hisneighborhood, at dusk, Park turned down Elean-or’s street instead of his own. There were twolittle reddish-blond kids playing in her yard, eventhough it was kind of cold.

He couldn’t see into the house. Maybe if hestood here long enough, she’d look out the win-dow. Park just wanted to see her face. Her bigbrown eyes, her full pink lips. Her mouth kind oflooked like the Joker’s – depending on who was

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drawing him – really wide and curvy. Notpsychotic, obviously … Park should never tellher this. It definitely didn’t sound like acompliment.

Eleanor didn’t look out the window. But thekids were staring at him, so Park walked home.

Saturdays were the worst.

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CHAPTER 17

Eleanor

Mondays were the best.Today, when she got on the bus, Park actually

smiled at her. Like, smiled at her the whole timeshe was walking down the aisle.

Eleanor couldn’t bring herself to smile dir-ectly back at him, not in front of everybody. Butshe couldn’t help but smile, so she smiled at thefloor and looked up every few seconds to seewhether he was still looking at her.

He was.Tina was looking at her, too, but Eleanor ig-

nored her.Park stood up when she got to their row, and

as soon as she sat down, he took her hand and

kissed it. It happened so fast, she didn’t havetime to die of ecstasy or embarrassment.

She let her face fall for just a few secondsagainst his shoulder, against the sleeve of hisblack trench coat. He squeezed her hand tight.

‘I missed you,’ he whispered. She felt tears inher eyes and turned to the window.

They didn’t say anything more all the way toschool. Park walked with Eleanor to her locker,and they both stood there quietly, leaning againstthe wall almost until the bell rang. The hall waspractically empty.

Then Park reached up and wrapped one of herred curls around his honey finger.

‘Back to missing you,’ he said, letting it go.

She was late to homeroom and didn’t hear MrSarpy tell her that she had an office pass. Heslammed it on her desk.

‘Eleanor, wake up! You’ve got a pass fromyour counselor.’ God, he was a jerk, she was gladshe didn’t have him for a real class. As shewalked to the office, she trailed her fingertips

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along the brick wall and hummed a song Parkhad given her.

She was so blissed out, she even smiled atMrs Dunne when she got to her office.

‘Eleanor,’ she said, hugging her. Mrs Dunnewas big on hugging. She’d hugged Eleanor thevery first time they met. ‘How are you?’

‘I’m good.’‘You look good,’ Mrs Dunne said.Eleanor looked down at her sweater (a very

fat man had probably bought it to wear golfing in1968) and at her holey jeans. God, how bad didshe usually look? ‘Thanks, I guess.’

‘I’ve been talking to your teachers,’ MrsDunne said. ‘Did you know you’re getting As inalmost all your classes?’

Eleanor shrugged. She didn’t have cable or aphone, and she felt like she was living under-ground in her own house … There was plenty oftime for homework.

‘Well, you are,’ Mrs Dunne said. ‘And I’m soproud of you.’

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Eleanor was glad there was a desk betweenthem now. Mrs Dunne looked like she had anoth-er hug coming on.

‘But that’s not why I called you down here.The reason you’re here is because I got a tele-phone call for you this morning, before schoolstarted. A man called – he said that he was yourdad – and that he was calling here because hedidn’t have your home number …’

‘I don’t actually have a home number,’Eleanor said.

‘Ah,’ Mrs Dunne said, ‘I see. Would yourdad know that?’

‘Probably not,’ Eleanor said. She was sur-prised he even knew what school she went to.

‘Would you like to call him? You could usemy office.’

Would she like to call him? Why would hewant to call her? Maybe something horrible(something really horrible) had happened. Maybeher grandma had died. God.

‘Sure …’ Eleanor said.

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‘You know,’ Mrs Dunne said, ‘you can comeuse my phone whenever you need to.’ She stoodup and sat on the edge of her desk, resting herhand on Eleanor’s knee. Eleanor was this close toasking for a toothbrush, but she thought thatwould lead to a marathon of hugging and knee-rubbing.

‘Thanks,’ Eleanor said instead.‘Okay,’ Mrs Dunne said, beaming. ‘I’ll be

right back then. I’ll just go freshen up mylipstick.’

When Mrs Dunne left, Eleanor dialed herdad’s number, surprised that she still knew it byheart. He answered after the third ring.

‘Hey, Dad. It’s Eleanor.’‘Hey, baby, how are you?’She thought for a second about telling him

the truth. ‘Fine,’ she said.‘How’s everybody?’‘Fine.’‘You guys never call.’

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There was no use telling him that they didn’thave a phone. Or pointing out that he nevercalled them back when they did have a phone. Oreven saying that maybe he should find a way totalk to them, him being the one with a phone anda car and a life of his own.

There was no use telling her dad anything.Eleanor had known that for so long, she couldn’teven remember figuring it out.

‘Hey, I’ve got a cool offer for you,’ he said.‘I thought maybe you could come over on Fridaynight.’ Her dad had a voice like someone on TV,somebody who would try to sell you record com-pilations. Disco hits of the ’70s or the latestTime-Life collection.

‘Donna wants me to go to some wedding,’ hesaid, ‘and I told her you would probably watchMatt. Thought you might like some babysittingmoney.’

‘Who’s Donna?’‘You know, Donna – Donna my fiancée. You

guys met her the last time you were here.’

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That was almost a year ago. ‘Your neighbor?’Eleanor asked.

‘Yeah, Donna. You can come over and spendthe night. Watch Matt, eat pizza, talk on thephone … It will be the easiest ten bucks you evermade.’

And actually the first.‘Okay,’ Eleanor said. ‘Are you picking us

up? Do you know where we live now?’‘I’ll pick you up at school – just you this

time. I don’t want to give you a whole house fullof kids to watch. What time do they let you out ofthere?’

‘Three.’‘Cool. I’ll see you Friday at three.’‘All right.’‘Well, all right. I love you, baby, study hard.’Mrs Dunne was waiting in the doorway, with

her arms open.Fine, Eleanor thought as she walked down the

hall. Everything is fine. Everyone is fine. She

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kissed the back of her hand, just to see how it felton her lips.

Park

‘I’m not going to homecoming,’ Park said.‘Of course you’re not going … To the

dance,’ Cal said. ‘I mean, it’s way too late to renta tux anyways.’

They were early to English class. Cal sat twoseats behind him, so Park kept having to lookback over his shoulder to see if Eleanor hadwalked in yet.

‘You’re renting a tux?’ Park asked.‘Uh, yeah,’ Cal said.‘Nobody rents a tux for homecoming.’‘So who’s going to look like the classiest guy

there? Besides, what do you know – you’re noteven going – to the dance, that is. The footballgame, however? Different story.’

‘I don’t even like football,’ Park said, lookingback at the door.

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‘Could you stop being the worst friend in theworld for, like, five minutes?’

Park looked up at the clock. ‘Yes.’‘Please,’ Cal said, ‘do me this one favor.

There’s a whole group of cool people going, andif you go, Kim will sit with us. You’re a Kimmagnet.’

‘Don’t you see what a problem that is?’‘No. It’s like I’ve found the perfect bait for

my Kim trap.’‘Stop saying her name like that.’‘Why? She’s not here yet, is she?’Park glanced over his shoulder. ‘Can’t you

just like a girl who likes you back?’‘None of them like me back,’ Cal said. ‘I may

as well like the one I really want. Come on,please. Come to the game on Friday – for me.’

‘I don’t know …’ Park said.‘Wow, what’s up with her. She looks like she

just killed somebody for fun.’Park whipped his head around. Eleanor. Smil-

ing at him.

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She had the kind of smile you see in tooth-paste commercials, where you can see practicallyall of somebody’s teeth. She should smile likethat all the time, Park thought; it made her facecross over from weird to beautiful. He wanted tomake her smile like that constantly.

Mr Stessman pretended to fall against thechalkboard when he walked in. ‘Good God,Eleanor, stop. You’re blinding me. Is that whyyou keep that smile locked away, because it’s toopowerful for mortal man?’

She looked down self-consciously andflattened her smile into a smirk.

‘Psst,’ Cal said. Kim was sitting downbetween them. Cal locked his fingers togetherlike he was begging. Park sighed and nodded hishead.

Eleanor

She waited for the phone call from her dad to gosour on her. (Conversations with her dad were

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like whiplash; they didn’t always hurt rightaway.)

But it didn’t. Nothing could bring Eleanordown. Nothing could drive Park’s words fromher head.

He missed her …Who knows what he missed. Her fatness. Her

weirdness. The fact that she couldn’t talk to himlike a regular person. Whatever. Whatever per-version caused him to like her was his problem.But he did like her, she was sure of it.

At least for now.For today.He liked her. He missed her.She was so distracted in gym class, she actu-

ally forgot not to try. They were playing basket-ball, and Eleanor caught the ball, colliding withone of Tina’s friends, a jumpy, wiry girl namedAnnette. ‘Are you trying to start something?’ An-nette demanded, pushing forward – pushing theball into Eleanor’s chest. ‘Are you? Come on,then, let’s go. Come on.’ Eleanor took a few

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steps back, out of bounds, and waited for MrsBurt to blow the whistle.

Annette stayed mad for the rest of the game,but Eleanor didn’t let it get to her.

That feeling she used to have when she wassitting next to Park on the bus – that feeling thatshe was on base, that she was safe for the mo-ment – she could summon it now. Like a forcefield. Like she was the Invisible Girl.

That would make Park Mr Fantastic.

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CHAPTER 18

Eleanor

Her mom wasn’t going to let her babysit.‘He has four children,’ her mother said. She

was rolling out dough for tortillas. ‘Did he forgetthat?

Eleanor had stupidly told her mother abouther dad’s phone call in front of her brothers andsister – they’d all gotten really excited. And thenEleanor had to tell them that they weren’t invited,that it was just babysitting, anyway, and that Dadwasn’t even going to be there.

Mouse had started to cry, and Maisie got madand stormed out. Ben asked Eleanor if she’d callDad back to see if he could come along to help.‘Tell him I babysit all the time,’ Ben said.

‘Your father is a piece of work,’ her mothersaid. ‘Every time, he breaks your hearts. Andevery time, he expects me to pick up the pieces.’

Pick up, sweep aside – same difference in hermom’s world. Eleanor didn’t argue.

‘Please let me go,’ she said.‘Why do you want to go?’ her mom asked.

‘Why do you even care about him? He’s nevercared about you.’

God. Even if it were true, it still hurt to hear itthat way.

‘I don’t care,’ Eleanor said. ‘I just need to getout of here. I haven’t been anywhere but schoolin two months. Plus, he said he’d pay me.’

‘If he has extra money sitting around, maybehe should pay his child support.’

‘Mom … it’s ten dollars. Please.’Her mother sighed. ‘Fine. I’ll talk to Richie.’‘No. Don’t talk to Richie. He’ll just say no.

And, anyway, he can’t tell me that I can’t see myfather.’

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‘Richie is the head of this household,’ hermom said. ‘Richie is the one who puts food onour table.’

What food? Eleanor wanted to ask. And, forthat matter, what table? They ate on the couch oron the floor or sitting on the back steps holdingpaper plates. Besides, Richie would say no justfor the pleasure of saying it. It would make himfeel like the King of Spain. Which was probablywhy her mom wanted to give him the chance.

‘Mom.’ Eleanor put her face in her hand andleaned against the refrigerator. ‘Please.’

‘Oh, fine,’ her mother said bitterly. ‘Fine. Butif he gives you any money, you can split it withyour brothers and sister. That’s the least you cando.’

They could have it all. All Eleanor wantedwas the chance to talk to Park on the phone. Tobe able to talk to him without every inbred hells-pawn in the Flats listening.

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The next morning on the bus, while Park ran hisfinger along the inside of her bracelet, Eleanorasked him for his phone number.

He started laughing.‘Why is that funny?’ she asked.‘Because,’ he said quietly. They said

everything quietly, even though everyone else onthe bus roared, even though you’d have to shoutinto a megaphone to be heard over all the cursingand idiocy. ‘I feel like you’re hitting on me,’ hesaid.

‘Maybe I shouldn’t ask for your number,’ shesaid. ‘You’ve never asked for mine.’

He looked up at her through his bangs.‘I figured you weren’t allowed to talk on the

phone … after that time with your stepdad.’‘I probably wouldn’t be, if I had a phone.’

She usually tried not to tell Park things like that.Like, all the things she didn’t have. She waitedfor him to react, but he didn’t. He just ran histhumb along the veins in her wrist.

‘Then why do you want my number?’

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God, she thought, never mind. ‘You don’thave to give it to me.’

He rolled his eyes and got a pen out of hisbackpack, then reached over and took one of herbooks.

‘No,’ she whispered, ‘don’t. I don’t want mymom to see it.’

He frowned at her book. ‘I’d think you’d bemore worried about her seeing this.’

Eleanor looked down. Crap. Whoever wrotethat gross thing on her geography book had writ-ten on her history book, too.

‘suck me off,’ it said, in ugly blue letters.She grabbed Park’s pen and started scribbling

it out.‘Why would you write that?’ he asked. ‘Is

that a song?’‘I didn’t write it,’ she said. She could feel

patches of red creep up her neck.‘Then who did?’

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She gave him the meanest look she was cap-able of. (It was hard to look at him with anythingother than gooey eyes.)

‘I don’t know,’ she said.‘Why would anyone write that?’‘I don’t know.’ She pulled her books against

her chest and wrapped her arms around them.‘Hey,’ he said.Eleanor ignored him and looked out the win-

dow. She couldn’t believe she’d let him see thaton her book. It was one thing to let him see hercrazy life a little bit at a time … So, yeah, I havea terrible stepdad, and I don’t have a phone, andsometimes when we’re out of dish soap I washmy hair with flea and tick shampoo …

It was another thing to remind him that shewas that girl. She may as well invite him to gymclass. She might as well give him an alphabeticallist of all the names they called her.

A – Ass, FatB – Bitch, Red-Headed

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He’d probably try to ask her why she was thatgirl.

‘Hey,’ he said.She shook her head.It wouldn’t do any good to tell him that she

hadn’t been that girl at her old school. Yeah,she’d been made fun of before. There were al-ways mean boys – and there were always, alwaysmean girls – but she’d had friends at her oldschool. She’d had people to eat lunch with andpass notes to. People used to pick her to be ontheir team in gym class just because they thoughtshe was nice and funny.

‘Eleanor …’ he said.But there was no one like Park at her old

school.There was no one like Park anywhere.‘What,’ she said to the window.‘How’re you going to call me if you don’t

have my number?’‘Who said I was going to call you?’ She

hugged her books.

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He leaned against her, pressing his shoulderinto hers.

‘Don’t be mad at me,’ he said, sighing. ‘Itmakes me crazy.’

‘I’m never mad at you,’ she said.‘Right.’‘I’m not.’‘You must just be mad near me a lot.’She pushed her shoulder against his and

smiled despite herself.‘I’m babysitting at my dad’s house Friday

night,’ she said, ‘and he said I could use thephone.’

Park turned his face eagerly. It was painfullyclose to hers. She could kiss him – or head-butthim – before he’d ever have a chance to pullaway. ‘Yeah?’ he asked.

‘Yeah.’‘Yeah,’ he said, smiling. ‘But you won’t let

me write down my number?’‘Tell me,’ she said. ‘I’ll memorize it.’‘Let me write it down.’

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‘I’ll memorize it to the tune of a song, so thatI don’t forget.’

He started singing his number to the tune of‘867-5309,’ which cracked her right up.

Park

Park tried to remember the first time he saw her.Because he could remember, on that day, see-

ing what everybody else saw. He could remem-ber thinking that she was asking for it …

That it was bad enough to have curly red hair.That it was bad enough to have a face shaped likea box of chocolates.

No, he hadn’t thought exactly that. He’dthought …

That it was bad enough to have a millionfreckles and chubby baby cheeks.

God, she had adorable cheeks. Dimples ontop of freckles, which shouldn’t even be allowed,and round as crabapples. It was kind of amazingthat more people didn’t try to pinch her cheeks.

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His grandma was definitely going to pinch herwhen they met.

But Park hadn’t thought that either, the firsttime he saw Eleanor on the bus. He rememberedthinking that it was bad enough that she lookedthe way she did …

Did she have to dress like that? And act likethat? Did she have to try so hard to be different?

He remembered feeling embarrassed for her.And now …Now, he felt the fight rising up in his throat

whenever he thought of people making fun ofher.

When he thought of someone writing thatugly thing on her book … it made him feel likeBill Bixby just before he turned into the Hulk.

It had been so hard, on the bus, to pretendthat it didn’t bother him. He didn’t want to makeanything worse for her – he’d put his hands in hispockets and pressed them into fists, and heldthem that way all morning long.

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All morning long, he’d wanted to punchsomething. Or kick something. Park had gymclass right after lunch, and he ran so hard duringdrills, he’d started to retch up his fish sandwich.

Mr Koenig, his gym teacher, made him leaveclass early and take a shower. ‘Hit the bricks,Sheridan. Now. This isn’t Chariots of Fuckin’Fire.’

Park wished it was only righteous anger thathe felt. He wished that he could feel defensiveand protective of Eleanor without feeling …everything else.

Without feeling like they were making fun ofhim, too.

There were moments – not just today, mo-ments every day since they’d met – when Eleanormade him self-conscious, when he saw peopletalking and he was sure they were talking aboutthem. Raucous moments on the bus when he wassure that everyone was laughing at them.

And in those moments, Park thought aboutpulling back from her.

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Not breaking up with her. That phrase didn’teven seem to apply here. Just … easing away.Recovering the six inches between them.

He’d roll the thought over in his head untilthe next time he saw her.

In class, at her desk. On the bus, waiting forhim. Reading alone in the cafeteria.

Whenever he saw Eleanor, he couldn’t thinkabout pulling away. He couldn’t think about any-thing at all.

Except touching her.Except doing whatever he could or had to, to

make her happy.

‘What do you mean you’re not coming tonight?’Cal said.

They were in study hall, and Cal was eating aSnack Pack butterscotch pudding. Park tried tokeep his voice down. ‘Something came up.’

‘Something?’ Cal said, slamming his spooninto his pudding. ‘Like you being completelylame – is that what came up? Because that comesup a lot lately.’

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‘No. Something. Like, a girl something.’Cal leaned in. ‘You’ve got a girl something?’Park felt himself blush. ‘Sort of. Yeah. I can’t

really talk about it.’‘But we had a plan,’ Cal said.‘You had a plan,’ Park said, ‘and it was

terrible.’‘Worst friend in the world,’ Cal said.

Eleanor

She was so nervous, she couldn’t even touch herlunch. She gave DeNice her creamed turkey andBeebi her fruit cocktail.

Park made her practice his phone number allthe way home.

And then he wrote it on her book anyway. Hehid it in song titles.

‘Forever Young.’‘That’s a four,’ he said. ‘Will you

remember?’

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‘I won’t have to,’ she said, ‘I already knowyour number by heart.’

‘And this is just a five,’ he said, ‘because Ican’t think of any five songs, and this one’ –‘Summer of ’69’ – ‘With this one, remember thesix, but forget the nine.’

‘I hate that song.’‘God, I know … Hey, I can’t think of any two

songs.’“‘Two of Us,”’ she said.‘Two of us?’‘It’s a Beatles song.’‘Oh … that’s why I don’t know it.’ He wrote

it down.‘I know your number by heart,’ she said.‘I’m just afraid you’re going to forget it,’ he

said quietly. He pushed her hair out of her eyeswith his pen.

‘I’m not going to forget it,’ she said. Ever.She’d probably scream out Park’s number on herdeathbed. Or have it tattooed over her heart when

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he finally got sick of her. ‘I’m good withnumbers.’

‘If you don’t call me Friday night,’ he said,‘because you can’t remember my number …’

‘How about this, I’ll give you my dad’s num-ber, and if I haven’t called you by nine, you cancall me.’

‘That’s an excellent idea,’ he said,‘seriously.’

‘But you can’t call it any other time.’‘I feel like …’ He started laughing and

looked away.‘What?’ she asked. She elbowed him.‘I feel like we have a date,’ he said. ‘Is that

stupid?’‘No,’ she said.‘Even though we’re together every day …’‘We’re never really together,’ she said.‘It’s like we have fifty chaperones.’‘Hostile chaperones,’ Eleanor whispered.‘Yeah,’ Park said.

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He put his pen in his pocket, then took herhand and held it to his chest for a minute.

It was the nicest thing she could imagine. Itmade her want to have his babies and give himboth of her kidneys.

‘A date,’ he said.‘Practically.’

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CHAPTER 19

Eleanor

When she woke up that morning, she felt like itwas her birthday – like she used to feel on herbirthday, back when there was a shot in hell ofice cream.

Maybe her dad would have ice cream … If hedid, he’d probably throw it away before Eleanorgot there. He was always dropping hints abouther weight. Well, he used to, anyway. Maybewhen he stopped caring about her altogether,he’d stopped caring about that, too.

Eleanor put on an old striped men’s shirt andhad her mom tie one of her ties – like knot it, forreal – around her neck.

Her mom actually kissed Eleanor goodbye atthe door and told her to have fun, and to call theneighbors if things got weird with her dad.

Right, Eleanor thought, I’ll be sure to call youif Dad’s fiancée calls me a bitch and then makesme use a bathroom without a door. Oh wait …

She was a little nervous. It had been a year, atleast, since she’d seen her dad, and a while be-fore that. He hadn’t called at all when she livedwith the Hickmans. Maybe he didn’t know shewas there. She never told him.

When Richie first started coming around, Benused to get really angry and say he was going tomove in with their dad – which was an empty eff-ing promise, and everyone knew it. Even Mouse,who was just a toddler.

Their dad couldn’t stand having them evenfor a few days. He used to pick them up fromtheir mom’s house, then drop them off at hismom’s house while he went off and did whateverit was that he did on the weekend. (Presumably,lots and lots of marijuana.)

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Park cracked up when he saw Eleanor’s tie.That was even better than making him smile.

‘I didn’t know we were getting dressed up,’he said when she sat down next to him.

‘I’m expecting you to take me someplacenice,’ she said softly.

‘I will …’ he said. He took the tie in bothhands and straightened it. ‘Someday.’

He was a lot more likely to say stuff like thaton the way to school than he was on the wayhome. Sometimes she wondered if he was fullyawake.

He turned practically sideways in his seat.‘So you’re leaving right after school?’

‘Yeah.’‘And you’ll call me as soon as you get there

…’‘No, I’ll call you as soon as the kid settles

down. I really do have to babysit.’‘I’m going to ask you a lot of personal ques-

tions,’ he said, leaning forward. ‘I have a list.’‘I’m not afraid of your list.’

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‘It’s extremely long,’ he said, ‘and extremelypersonal.’

‘I hope you’re not expecting answers …’He sat back in the seat and looked over at her.

‘I wish you’d go away,’ he whispered, ‘so thatwe could finally talk.’

Eleanor stood on the front steps after school.She’d hoped to catch Park before he got on thebus, but she must have missed him.

She wasn’t sure what kind of car to watchfor; her dad was always buying classic cars, thenselling them when money got tight.

She was starting to worry that he wasn’t com-ing at all – he could’ve gone to the wrong highschool or changed his mind – when he honkedfor her.

He pulled up in an old Karmann Ghia con-vertible. It looked like the car James Dean diedin. Her dad’s arm was hanging over the door,holding a cigarette. ‘Eleanor!’ he shouted.

She walked to the car and got in. There wer-en’t any seat belts.

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‘Is that all you brought?’ he asked, looking ather school bag.

‘It’s just one night.’ She shrugged.‘All right,’ he said, backing out of the parking

space too fast. She’d forgotten what a crappydriver he was. He did everything too fast andone-handed.

Eleanor braced herself on the dashboard. Itwas cold out, and once they were driving, it gotcolder. ‘Can we put the top up?’ she shouted.

‘Haven’t fixed it yet,’ her dad said, andlaughed.

He still lived in the same duplex he’d lived insince her parents split up. It was solid and brick,and about a ten-minute drive from Eleanor’sschool.

When they got inside, he took a better look ather.

‘Is that what all the cool kids are wearingthese days?’ he asked. She looked down at her gi-ant white shirt, her fat paisley tie and her half-dead purple corduroys.

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‘Yup,’ she said flatly. ‘This is pretty muchour uniform.’

Her dad’s girlfriend – fiancée – Donna, didn’tget off work until five, and after that she had topick her kid up from daycare. In the meantime,Eleanor and her dad sat on the couch andwatched ESPN.

He smoked cigarette after cigarette, andsipped Scotch out of a short glass. Every once ina while the phone would ring, and he’d have along, laughy conversation with somebody about acar or a deal or a bet. You’d think that everysingle person who called was his best friend inthe whole world. Her dad had baby blond hairand a round, boyish face. When he smiled, whichwas constantly, his whole face lit up like a bill-board. If Eleanor paid too much attention, shehated him.

His duplex had changed since the last timeshe’d been here, and it was more than just thebox of Fisher Price toys in the living room andthe makeup in the bathroom.

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When they’d first started visiting him here –after the divorce, but before Richie – their dad’sduplex had been a bare-bones bachelor pad. Hedidn’t even have enough bowls for them all tohave soup. He’d served Eleanor clam chowderonce in a highball glass. And he only had twotowels. ‘One wet,’ he’d said, ‘one dry.’

Now Eleanor fixated on all the small luxuriesstrewn and tucked around the house. Packs of ci-garettes, newspapers, magazines … Brand-namecereal and quilted toilet paper. His refrigeratorwas full of things you tossed into the cart withoutthinking about it just because they sounded good.Custard-style yogurt. Grapefruit juice. Littleround cheeses individually wrapped in red wax.

She couldn’t wait for her dad to leave so thatshe could start eating everything. There werestacks of Coca-Cola cans in the pantry. She wasgoing to drink Coke like water all night, shemight even wash her face with it. And she wasgoing to order a pizza. Unless the pizza came outof her babysitting money. (That would be just

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like her dad. He’d take you to the cleaners withfine print.) Eleanor didn’t care if eating all hisfood pissed him off or if it freaked out Donna.She might never see either of them againanyway.

Now she wished she had brought anovernight bag. She could have snuck home cansof Chef Boyardee and Campbell’s chickennoodle soup for the little kids. She would havefelt like Santa Claus when she came home …

She didn’t want to think about the little kidsright now. Or Christmas.

She tried to turn the station to MTV, but herdad frowned at her. He was on the phone again.

‘Can I listen to records?’ she whispered.He nodded.She had an old mix tape in her pocket, and

she was going to dub over it to make a tape forPark. But there was a whole packet of emptyMaxell tapes sitting on her dad’s stereo. Eleanorheld a cassette up to her dad, and he nodded,

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flicking his cigarette into an ashtray shaped like anaked African woman.

Eleanor sat down in front of the crates full ofrecord albums.

These used to be both of her parents’ records,not just his. Her mom must not have wanted anyof them. Or maybe her dad just took themwithout asking.

Her mom had loved this Bonnie Raitt album.Eleanor wondered if her dad ever listened to it.

She felt seven years old, flipping throughtheir records.

Before she was allowed to take the albumsout of their sleeves, Eleanor used to lay them outon the floor and stare at the artwork. When shewas old enough, her dad taught her how to dustthe records with a wood-handled velvet brush.

She could remember her mother lighting in-cense and putting on her favorite records – JudeeSill and Judy Collins and Crosby, Stills and Nash– while she cleaned the house.

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She could remember her dad putting on re-cords – Jimi Hendrix and Deep Purple and JethroTull – when his friends came over and stayed lateinto the night.

Eleanor could remember lying on her stom-ach on an old Persian rug, drinking grape juiceout of a jelly jar, being extra quiet because herbaby brother was asleep in the next room – andstudying each record, one by one. Turning theirnames over and over in her mouth. Cream.Vanilla Fudge. Canned Heat.

The records smelled exactly like they alwayshad. Like her dad’s bedroom. Like Richie’s coat.Like pot, Eleanor realized. Duh. She flippedthrough the records more matter-of-factly now,on a mission. Looking for Rubber Soul andRevolver.

Sometimes it seemed as if she would never beable to give Park anything like what he’d givenher. It was like he dumped all this treasure on herevery morning without even thinking about it,without any sense of what it was worth.

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She couldn’t repay him. She couldn’t evenappropriately thank him. How can you thanksomeone for The Cure? Or the X-Men? Some-times it felt like she’d always be in his debt.

And then she realized that Park didn’t knowabout the Beatles.

Park

Park went to the playground to play basketballafter school. Just to kill time. But he couldn’t fo-cus on the game – he kept looking up at the backof Eleanor’s house.

When he got home, he called out to his mom.‘Mom! I’m home!’

‘Park,’ she called. ‘Out here! In the garage.’He grabbed a cherry Popsicle out of the freez-

er and headed out there. He could smell thepermanent-wave solution as soon as he openedthe door.

Park’s dad had converted their garage into asalon when Josh started kindergarten and their

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mom went to beauty school. She even had a littlesign hanging by the side door. ‘Mindy’s Hair &Nails.’

‘Min-Dae,’ it said on her driver’s license.Everyone in the neighborhood who could af-

ford a hair stylist came to Park’s mom. On home-coming and prom weekends, she’d spend all dayin the garage. Both Park and Josh were recruitedfrom time to time to hold hot curling irons.

Today, his mom had Tina sitting in her chair.Tina’s hair was wound tight in rollers, and Park’smom was squeezing something onto them with aplastic bottle. The smell burned his eyes.

‘Hey, Mom,’ he said. ‘Hey, Tina.’‘Hey, honey,’ his mom said. She pronounced

it with two ‘n’s.Tina smiled broadly at him. ‘Close eyes, Ti-

na,’ his mom said. ‘Stay close.’‘Hey, Mrs Sheridan,’ Tina said, holding a

white washcloth over her eyes, ‘have you metPark’s girlfriend yet?’

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His mom didn’t look up from Tina’s head.‘Nooo,’ she said, clucking her tongue. ‘No girl-friend. Not Park.’

‘Uh-huh,’ Tina said. ‘Tell her, Park – hername is Eleanor, and she’s new this year. Wecan’t keep them apart on the bus.’

Park stared at Tina. Shocked that she’d sellhim out like this. Startled by her rosy take on buslife. Surprised that she was even paying attentionto him, and to Eleanor. His mom looked over atPark, but not for long; Tina’s hair was at a critic-al stage.

‘I don’t know about any girlfriend,’ his momsaid.

‘I’ll bet you’ve seen her in the neighbor-hood,’ Tina said, assuring. ‘She has really pretty,red hair. Naturally curly.’

‘Is that right?’ his mom said.‘No,’ Park said, anger and everything else

curdling in his stomach.‘You’re such a guy, Park,’ Tina said from be-

hind the washcloth. ‘I’m sure it’s natural.’

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‘No,’ he said, ‘she’s not my girlfriend. I don’thave a girlfriend,’ he said to his mom.

‘Okay, okay,’ she said. ‘Too much girl talkfor you. Too much girl talk, Ti-na. You go checkon dinner now,’ she said to Park.

He backed out of the garage, still wanting toargue, feeling more denial twitching in his throat.He slammed the door, then went into the kitchenand slammed as much as he could in there. Theoven. The cabinets. The trash.

‘What the hell is wrong with you?’ his dadsaid, walking into the kitchen.

Park froze. He could not get into troubletonight.

‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘Sorry. I’m sorry.’‘Jesus, Park, take it out on the bag …’ There

was an old-school punching bag in the garage,hanging way out of Park’s reach.

‘Mindy!’ his dad shouted.‘Out here!’

Eleanor didn’t call during dinner, which wasgood. That got on his dad’s nerves.

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But she didn’t call after dinner either. Parkwalked around the house, picking things up ran-domly, then setting them down. Even though itdidn’t make sense, he worried that Eleanorwasn’t calling because he’d betrayed her. Thatshe knew somehow, that she’d sensed a disturb-ance in the Force.

The phone rang at 7:15, and his momanswered it. He could tell right away that it washis grandma.

Park tapped his fingers on a bookshelf. Whydidn’t his parents want call waiting? Everyonehad call waiting. His grandparents had call wait-ing. And why couldn’t his grandma just comeover, if she wanted to talk? They lived right nextdoor.

‘No, I don’t think so,’ his mother said. ‘SixtyMinutes always on Sunday … Maybe you thinkof Twenty-Twenty? No? … John Stos-sel? No?… Geraldo Rivera? Di-anne Sawyer?’

Park gently banged his head against the livingroom wall.

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‘God damn it, Park,’ his dad snapped, ‘whatis wrong with you?’

His dad and Josh were trying to watch The A-Team.

‘Nothing,’ Park said, ‘nothing. I’m sorry. I’mjust waiting for a phone call.’

‘Is your girlfriend calling?’ Josh asked.‘Park’s dating Big Red.’

‘She’s not—’ Park caught himself shoutingand clenched his fists. ‘If I ever hear you call herthat again, I’ll kill you. I’ll literally kill you. I’llgo to jail for the rest of my life, and it’ll breakMom’s heart, but I will. Kill. You.’

His dad looked at Park like he always did,like he was trying to figure out what the fuck waswrong with him.

‘Park has a girlfriend?’ he asked Josh. ‘Whydo they call her Big Red?’

‘I think it’s because she has red hair and gianttits,’ Josh said.

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‘No way, dirty mouth,’ their mother said. Sheheld her hand over the phone. ‘You’ – she poin-ted at Josh – ‘in your room. Now.’

‘But, Mom, The A-Team is on.’‘You heard your mother,’ their dad said.

‘You don’t get to talk like that in this house.’‘You talk like that,’ Josh said, dragging him-

self off the couch.‘I’m thirty-nine years old,’ their dad said,

‘and a decorated veteran. I’ll say whatever thehell I want.’

Their mother jabbed a long fingernail at hisdad and covered the phone again. ‘I’ll send youto your room, too.’

‘Honey, I wish you would,’ their dad said,throwing a throw pillow at her.

‘Hugh Downs?’ Park’s mom said into thephone. The pillow fell on the floor and shepicked it up. ‘No? … Okay, I’ll keep thinking.Okay. Love you. Okay, bye-bye.’

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As soon as she hung up, the phone rang. Parksprung away from the wall. His dad grinned athim. His mom answered the phone.

‘Hello?’ she said. ‘Yes, one moment please.’She looked at Park. ‘Telephone.’

‘Can I take it in my room?’His mom nodded. His dad mouthed, ‘Big

Red.’Park ran into his room, then stopped to catch

his breath before he picked up the phone. Hecouldn’t. He picked it up anyway.

‘I got it, Mom, thanks.’He waited for the click. ‘Hello?’‘Hi,’ Eleanor said. He felt all of the tension

rush out of him. Without it, he could hardly standup.

‘Hi,’ he breathed.She giggled.‘What?’ he said.‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘Hi.’‘I didn’t think you were going to call.’‘It’s not even 7:30.’

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‘Yeah, well … is your brother asleep?’‘He’s not my brother,’ she said. ‘I mean, not

yet. I guess my dad’s engaged to his mom. But,no, he’s not asleep. He’s watching FraggleRock.’

Park carefully picked up the phone and car-ried it to his bed. He sat down gently. He didn’twant her to hear anything. He didn’t want her toknow he had a twin-sized waterbed and a phoneshaped like a Ferrari.

‘What time is your dad coming home?’ heasked.

‘Late, I hope. They said they almost never geta babysitter.’

‘Cool.’She giggled again.‘What?’ he asked.‘I don’t know,’ she said, ‘I feel like you’re

whispering in my ear.’‘I’m always whispering in your ear,’ he said,

lying back on his pillows.

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‘Yeah, but it’s usually about, like, Magnetoor something.’ Her voice was higher on thephone, and richer, like he was listening to it onheadphones.

‘I’m not going to say anything tonight that Icould say on the bus or during English class,’ hesaid.

‘And I’m not going to say anything that Ican’t say in front of a three-year-old.’

‘Nice.’‘I’m just kidding. He’s in the other room, and

he’s totally ignoring me.’‘So …’ Park said.‘So …’ she said, ‘… things we can’t say on

the bus.’‘Things we can’t say on the bus – go.’‘I hate those people,’ she said.He laughed, then thought of Tina and was

glad that Eleanor couldn’t see his face. ‘Me, too,sometimes. I mean, I guess I’m used to them.I’ve known most of them my whole life. Steve’smy next-door neighbor.’

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‘How did that happen?’‘What do you mean?’ he asked.‘I mean, you don’t seem like you’re from

there …’‘Because I’m Korean?’‘You’re Korean?’‘Half.’‘I guess I don’t really know what that means.’‘Me neither,’ he said.‘What do you mean? Are you adopted?’‘No. My mom’s from Korea. She just doesn’t

talk about it very much.’‘How did she end up in the Flats?’‘My dad. He served in Korea, they fell in

love, and he brought her back.’‘Wow, really?’‘Yeah.’‘That’s pretty romantic.’Eleanor didn’t know the half of it; his parents

were probably making out right now. ‘I guessso,’ he said.

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‘That’s not what I meant though. I meant …that you’re different from the other people in theneighborhood, you know?’

Of course he knew. They’d all been tellinghim so his whole life. When Tina liked Park in-stead of Steve in grade school, Steve had said, ‘Ithink she feels safe with you because you’re likehalf girl.’ Park hated football. He cried when hisdad took him pheasant hunting. Nobody in theneighborhood could ever tell who he was dressedas on Halloween. (‘I’m Doctor Who.’ ‘I’m HarpoMarx.’ ‘I’m Count Floyd.’) And he kind ofwanted his mom to give him blond highlights.Park knew he was different.

‘No,’ he said. ‘I don’t know.’‘You …’ she said, ‘you’re so … cool.’

Eleanor

‘Cool?’ he said.God. She couldn’t believe she’d said that.

Talk about uncool. Like the opposite of cool.

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Like, if you looked up ‘cool’ in the dictionary,there’d be a photo of some cool person there say-ing, ‘What the eff is wrong with you, Eleanor?’

‘I’m not cool,’ he said. ‘You’re cool.’‘Ha,’ she said. ‘I wish I were drinking milk,

and I wish you were here, so that you couldwatch it shoot out my nose in response to that.’

‘Are you kidding me?’ he said. ‘You’re DirtyHarry.’

‘I’m dirty hairy?’‘Like Clint Eastwood, you know?’‘No.’‘You don’t care what anyone thinks about

you,’ he said.‘That’s crazy,’ she said. ‘I care what every-

one thinks about me.’‘I can’t tell,’ he said. ‘You just seem like

yourself, no matter what’s happening around you.My grandmother would say you’re comfortablein your own skin.’

‘Why would she say that?’‘Because that’s how she talks.’

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‘I’m stuck in my own skin,’ Eleanor said.‘And why are we even talking about me? Wewere talking about you.’

‘I’d rather talk about you,’ he said. His voicedropped a little. It was nice to hear just his voiceand nothing else. (Nothing besides Fraggle Rockin the next room.) His voice was deeper thanshe’d ever realized, but sort of warm in themiddle. He kind of reminded her of Peter Gabri-el. Not singing, obviously. And not with a Britishaccent.

‘Where did you come from?’ he asked.‘The future.’

Park

Eleanor had an answer for everything – but shestill managed to evade most of Park’s questions.

She wouldn’t talk about her family or herhouse. She wouldn’t talk about anything thathappened before she moved to the neighborhood

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or anything that happened after she got off thebus.

When her sort-of stepbrother fell asleeparound nine, she asked Park to call her back infifteen minutes, so she could put the kid to bed.

Park hurried to the bathroom and hoped thathe wouldn’t run into either of his parents. So farthey were leaving him alone.

He got back to his room. He checked theclock … eight more minutes. He put a tape in hisstereo. He changed into pajama pants and a T-shirt.

He called her back.‘It so hasn’t been fifteen minutes,’ she said.‘I couldn’t wait. Do you want me to call you

back?’‘No.’ Her voice was even softer now.‘Did he stay asleep?’‘Yeah,’ she said.‘Where are you now?’‘Like, where in the house?’‘Yeah, where.’

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‘Why?’ she asked, with something justgentler than disdain.

‘Because I’m thinking about you,’ he said,exasperated.

‘So?’‘Because I want to feel like I’m with you,’ he

said. ‘Why do you make everything so hard?’‘Probably because I’m so cool …’ she said.‘Ha.’‘I’m lying on the floor in the living room,’

she said faintly. ‘In front of the stereo.’‘In the dark? It sounds dark.’‘In the dark, yeah.’He lay back on his bed again and covered his

eyes with his arm. He could see her. In his head.He imagined green lights on a stereo. Streetlights through a window. He imagined her faceglowing, the coolest light in the room.

‘Is that U2?’ he asked. He could hear ‘Bad’ inthe background.

‘Yeah, I think it’s my favorite song rightnow. I keep rewinding it, and playing it over and

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over again. It’s nice not to have to worry aboutbatteries.’

‘What’s your favorite part?’‘Of the song?’‘Yeah.’‘All of it,’ she said, ‘especially the chorus – I

mean, I guess it’s the chorus.’‘I’m wide awake,’ he half sang.‘Yeah …’ she said, softly.He kept singing then. Because he wasn’t sure

what to say next.

Eleanor

‘Eleanor?’ Park said.She didn’t answer.‘Are you there?’She was so out of it, she actually nodded her

head. ‘Yes,’ she said out loud, catching herself.‘What are you thinking?’‘I’m thinking – I’m – I’m not thinking.’‘Not thinking in a good way? Or a bad way?’

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‘I don’t know,’ she said. She rolled over ontoher stomach, and pressed her face into the carpet.‘Both.’

He was quiet. She listened to him breathe.She wanted to ask him to hold the phone closer tohis mouth.

‘I miss you,’ she said.‘I’m right here.’‘I wish you were here. Or that I was there. I

wish that there was some chance of talking likethis after tonight, or seeing each other. Like,really seeing each other. Of being alone,together.’

‘Why can’t there be?’ he asked.She laughed. That’s when she realized she

was crying.‘Eleanor …’‘Stop. Don’t say my name like that. It only

makes it worse.’‘Makes what worse?’‘Everything,’ she said.He was quiet.

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She sat up and wiped her nose on her sleeve.‘Do you have a nickname?’ he asked. That

was one of his tricks, whenever she was put offor irritated – changing the subject in the sweetestway possible.

‘Yeah,’ she said, ‘Eleanor.’‘Not Nora? Or Ella? Or … Lena, you could

be Lena. Or Lenny or Elle …’‘Are you trying to give me a nickname?’‘No, I love your name. I don’t want to cheat

myself out of a single syllable.’‘You’re such a dork.’ She wiped her eyes.‘Eleanor …’ he said, ‘why can’t we see each

other?’‘God,’ she said, ‘don’t. I’d almost stopped

crying.’‘Tell me. Talk to me.’‘Because,’ she said, ‘because my stepdad

would kill me.’‘Why does he care?’‘He doesn’t care. He just wants to kill me.’‘Why?’

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‘Stop asking that,’ she said angrily. Therewas no stopping the tears now. ‘You always askthat. Why. Like there’s an answer for everything.Not everybody has your life, you know, or yourfamily. In your life, things happen for reasons.People make sense. But that’s not my life.Nobody in my life makes sense …’

‘Not even me?’ he asked.‘Ha. Especially not you.’‘Why would you say that?’ He sounded hurt.

What did he have to be hurt about?‘Why, why, why …’ she said.‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘why. Why are you always so

mad at me?’‘I’m never mad at you.’ It came out a sob. He

was so stupid.‘You are,’ he said. ‘You’re mad at me right

now. You always turn on me, just when we startto get somewhere.’

‘Get where?’‘Somewhere,’ he said. ‘With each other.

Like, a few minutes ago, you said you missed

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me. And for maybe the first time ever, you didn’tsound sarcastic or defensive or like you think I’man idiot. And now you’re yelling at me.’

‘I’m not yelling.’‘You’re mad,’ he said. ‘Why are you mad?’She didn’t want him to hear her cry. She held

her breath. That made it worse.‘Eleanor …’ he said.Even worse.‘Stop saying that.’‘What can I say then? You can ask me why,

you know. I promise I’ll have answers.’He sounded frustrated with her, but not

angry. She could remember him sounding angrywith her only once. The first day she got on thebus.

‘You can ask me why,’ he said again.‘Yeah?’ She sniffed.‘Yeah.’‘Okay.’ She looked down at the turntable, at

her own reflection in the tinted acrylic lid. She

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looked like a fat-faced ghost. She closed hereyes.

‘Why do you even like me?’

Park

He opened his eyes.He sat up, stood up, started pacing around his

small room. He went to stand by the window –the one that faced her house, even though it was ablock away and she wasn’t home – holding thebase of the car phone against his stomach.

She’d asked him to explain something hecouldn’t even explain to himself.

‘I don’t like you,’ he said. ‘I need you.’He waited for her to cut him down. To say

‘Ha’ or ‘God’ or ‘You sound like a Bread song.’But she was quiet.He crawled back onto the bed, not caring

whether she heard it swish. ‘You can ask me whyI need you,’ he whispered. He didn’t even haveto whisper. On the phone, in the dark, he just had

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to move his lips and breathe. ‘But I don’t know. Ijust know that I do …

‘I miss you, Eleanor. I want to be with you allthe time. You’re the smartest girl I’ve ever met,and the funniest, and everything you do surprisesme. And I wish I could say that those are thereasons I like you, because that would make mesound like a really evolved human being …

‘But I think it’s got as much to do with yourhair being red and your hands being soft … andthe fact that you smell like homemade birthdaycake.’

He waited for her to say something. Shedidn’t.

Someone knocked softly on his door.‘Just a second,’ he whispered into the phone.

‘Yeah?’ he said.His mom opened his door, just enough to

push her head through. ‘Not too late,’ she said.‘Not too late,’ he said. She smiled and shut

the door.‘I’m back,’ he said. ‘Are you there?’

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‘I’m here,’ Eleanor said.‘Say something.’‘I don’t know what to say.’‘Say something, so that I don’t feel so

stupid.’‘Don’t feel stupid, Park,’ she said.‘Nice.’They were both quiet.‘Ask me why I like you,’ she finally said.He felt himself smile. He felt like something

warm had spilled in his chest.‘Eleanor,’ he said, just because he liked say-

ing it, ‘why do you like me?’‘I don’t like you.’He waited. And waited …Then he started to laugh. ‘You’re kind of

mean,’ he said.‘Don’t laugh. It just encourages me.’He could hear that she was smiling, too. He

could picture her. Smiling.‘I don’t like you, Park,’ she said again. ‘I …’

She stopped. ‘I can’t do this.’

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‘Why not?’‘It’s embarrassing.’‘So far, just for me.’‘I’m afraid I’ll say too much,’ she said.‘You can’t.’‘I’m afraid I’ll tell you the truth.’‘Eleanor …’‘Park.’‘You don’t like me …’ he said, leading her,

pressing the base of the phone into his lowest rib.‘I don’t like you, Park,’ she said, sounding

for a second like she actually meant it. ‘I …’ –her voice nearly disappeared – ‘sometimes Ithink I live for you.’

He closed his eyes and arched his head backinto his pillow.

‘I don’t think I even breathe when we’re nottogether,’ she whispered. ‘Which means, when Isee you on Monday morning, it’s been like sixtyhours since I’ve taken a breath. That’s probablywhy I’m so crabby, and why I snap at you. All Ido when we’re apart is think about you, and all I

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do when we’re together is panic. Because everysecond feels so important. And because I’m soout of control, I can’t help myself. I’m not evenmine anymore, I’m yours, and what if you decidethat you don’t want me? How could you want melike I want you?’

He was quiet. He wanted everything she’djust said to be the last thing he heard. He wantedto fall asleep with ‘I want you’ in his ears.

‘God,’ she said. ‘I told you I shouldn’t talk. Ididn’t even answer your question.’

Eleanor

She hadn’t even said anything nice about him.She hadn’t told him that he was prettier than anygirl, and that his skin was like sunshine with asuntan.

And that’s exactly why she hadn’t said it. Be-cause all her feelings for him – hot and beautifulin her heart – turned to gobbledygook in hermouth.

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She flipped the tape and pressed play, andwaited for Robert Smith to start singing beforeshe climbed up onto her dad’s brown leathercouch.

‘Why can’t I see you?’ Park asked. His voicesounded raw and pure. Like something justhatched.

‘Because my stepfather is crazy.’‘Does he have to know?’‘My mom will tell him.’‘Does she have to know?’‘Eleanor ran her fingers along the edge of the

glass coffee table. ‘What do you mean?’‘I don’t know what I mean. I just know that I

need to see you. Like this.’‘I’m not even allowed to talk to boys.’‘Until when?’‘I don’t know, never. This is one of those

things that doesn’t make sense. My mom doesn’twant to do anything that could possibly irritatemy stepfather. And my stepfather gets off on be-ing mean. Especially to me. He hates me.’

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‘Why?’‘Because I hate him.’‘Why?’She wanted, badly, to change the subject, but

she didn’t.‘Because he’s a bad person. Just … trust me.

He’s the kind of bad that tries to kill anythinggood. If he knew about you, he’d do whatever hecould to take you away from me.’

‘He can’t take me away from you,’ Park said.Sure he can, she thought. ‘He can take me

away from you,’ she said. ‘The last time he gotreally mad at me, he kicked me out and didn’t letme come home for a year.’

‘Jesus.’‘Yeah.’‘I’m sorry.’‘Don’t be sorry,’ she said. ‘Just don’t tempt

him.’‘We could meet at the playground.’‘My siblings would turn me in.’‘We could meet somewhere else.’

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‘Where?’‘Here,’ he said. ‘You could come here.’‘What would your parents say?’‘It’s nice to meet you, Eleanor, would you

like to stay for dinner?’She laughed. She wanted to say it wouldn’t

work, but maybe it would. Maybe.‘Are you sure you want them to meet me?’

she asked.‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I want everyone to meet you.

You’re my favorite person of all time.’He kept making her feel like it was safe to

smile. ‘I don’t want to embarrass you …’ shesaid.

‘You couldn’t.’Headlights shot across the living room.‘Damn,’ she said. ‘I think my dad’s home.’

She got up and looked out the window. Her dadand Donna were getting out of the KarmannGhia. Donna’s hair was a mess.

‘Damn, damn, damn,’ she said. ‘I never saidwhy I like you, and now I have to go.’

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‘That’s okay,’ he said.‘It’s because you’re kind,’ she said. ‘And be-

cause you get all my jokes …’‘Okay,’ he laughed.‘And you’re smarter than I am.’‘I am not.’‘And you look like a protagonist.’ She was

talking as fast as she could think. ‘You look likethe person who wins in the end. You’re so pretty,and so good. You have magic eyes,’ shewhispered. ‘And you make me feel like acannibal.’

‘You’re crazy.’‘I have to go.’ She leaned over so the receiver

was close to the base.‘Eleanor – wait,’ Park said. She could hear

her dad in the kitchen and her heartbeateverywhere.

‘Eleanor – wait – I love you.’‘Eleanor?’ her dad was standing in the door-

way. He was being quiet, in case she was asleep.

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She hung up the phone and pretended that shewas.

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CHAPTER 20

Eleanor

The next day was a blur.Her dad complained that she’d eaten all the

yogurt.‘I didn’t eat it, I gave it to Matt.’Her dad only had seven dollars in his wallet,

so that’s what he gave her. When he was ready totake her home, she said she had to go the bath-room. She went up to the hall closet, found threebrand new toothbrushes and shoved them into thefront of her pants, along with a bar of Dove soap.Donna might have seen her (she was right therein the bedroom), but she didn’t say anything.

Eleanor felt sorry for Donna. Her dad neverlaughed at anyone’s jokes but his own.

When her dad dropped Eleanor off at her house,all the little kids ran out to see him. He gave themrides around the neighborhood in his new car.

Eleanor wished she had a phone to call thecops. ‘There’s a guy driving around the Flatswith a bunch of kids hanging out of a convertible.I’m pretty sure none of them have seat belts onand that he’s been drinking Scotch all morning.Oh, and while you’re here, there’s another guy inthe backyard smoking hash. In a school zone.’

When their dad finally left, Mouse couldn’tstop talking about him. After a few hours, Richietold everybody to put their coats on. ‘We’re go-ing to a movie,’ he said, looking right at Eleanor.‘All of us.’

Eleanor and the little kids climbed into theback of the truck and huddled against the cab,making faces at the baby, who got to sit inside.Richie drove down Park’s street on the way outof the neighborhood, but Park wasn’t outside,thank God. Of course, Tina and her Neanderthal

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boyfriend were out. Eleanor didn’t even try toduck. What was the point? Steve whistled at her.

It was snowing on the way home from themovie. (Short Circuit.) Richie drove slow, whichmeant that even more snow fell on them, but atleast nobody flew out of the truck.

Huh, Eleanor thought. I’m not fantasizingabout being thrown from a moving vehicle.Weird.

When they drove by Park’s house again in thedark, she wondered which window was his.

Park

He regretted saying it. Not because it wasn’t true.He loved her. Of course he did. There was noother way to explain … everything Park felt.

But he hadn’t meant to tell her like that. Sosoon. And over the phone. Especially knowinghow she felt about Romeo and Juliet.

Park was waiting for his little brother tochange clothes. Every Sunday, they got dressed

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up, in nice pants and sweaters, and had dinnerwith their grandparents. But Josh was playing Su-per Mario and wouldn’t turn it off. (He was aboutto get to the infinity turtle for the first time.)

‘I’m going over,’ Park yelled to his parents.‘I’ll see you there.’

He ran across the yard because he didn’t feellike putting on a coat.

His grandparents’ house smelled likechicken-fried chicken. His grandma only hadfour Sunday dinners in her repertoire – chicken-fried chicken, chicken-fried steak, pot roast andcorned beef – but they were all good.

His grandpa was watching TV in the livingroom. Park stopped to give him half a hug, thenwent into the kitchen and hugged his grandma.She was so small, even Park towered over her.All the women in his family were tiny, and all themen were huge. Only Park’s DNA had missedthe memo. Maybe the Korean genes scrambledeverything.

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That didn’t explain Josh’s hugeness, though.Josh looked like the Korean genes had skippedhim altogether. His eyes were brown and justbarely almondy – almond-flavored. And his hairwas dark, but not even close to black. Joshlooked like a big German or Polish kid whoseeyes kind of crinkled when he smiled.

Their grandmother looked nothing but Irish.Or maybe Park only thought that because every-one in his dad’s family made such a big dealabout being Irish. Park got a ‘Kiss Me, I’m Irish’T-shirt every year for Christmas.

He set his grandparents’ table without beingasked, because it had always been his job. Whenhis mom got there, he hung out in the kitchenwith her and his grandma, and listened to themgossip about the neighbors.

‘I heard from Jamie that Park’s going steadywith one of those kids who live over with RichieTrout,’ his grandma said.

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It shouldn’t surprise Park that his dad hadalready told his grandma. His dad could neverkeep a secret.

‘Everybody talking about Park’s girlfriend,’his mom said, ‘except for Park.’

‘I heard she’s a redhead,’ his grandma said.Park pretended to read the newspaper. ‘You

shouldn’t listen to gossip, Grandma.’‘Well, I wouldn’t have to,’ his grandma said,

‘if you’d just introduce us to her.’He rolled his eyes. Which made him think of

Eleanor. Which almost made him feel like tellingthem about her, just so he’d have a reason to sayher name.

‘Well, my heart goes out to any child livingin that house,’ his grandma said. ‘That Trout boyhas never been any good. He smashed out ourmailbox while your dad was in the service. Iknow it was him because he was the only one inthe neighborhood with an El Camino. He grewup in that little house, you know, until his parentsmoved someplace even more redneck than here.

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Wyoming, I think it was. They probably movedto get away from him.’

‘Tishhhh,’ his mom said. Grandma was alittle sharp for his mom’s taste sometimes.

‘We thought he’d moved out west, too,’ shesaid, ‘but now he’s back with an older wife wholooks like a movie star and a whole house full ofred-headed stepchildren. Gil told your grandpathat they’ve got a big old dog living there, too. Inever …’

Park felt like he should defend Eleanor. Buthe wasn’t sure how.

‘It doesn’t surprise me that you have a thingfor redheads,’ his grandma said. ‘Your grandfath-er was in love with a redhead. Lucky for me, shewouldn’t have anything to do with him.’

What would Park’s grandmother say if he didintroduce her to Eleanor? What would she say tothe neighbors?

And what would his mother say?He watched his mom mash potatoes with a

masher as big as her arm. She was wearing

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stonewashed jeans and a pink V-neck sweater,with fringed leather boots. There was a gold an-gel charm hanging around her neck and goldcrosses hanging from her ears. She’d be the mostpopular girl on the bus. He couldn’t imagine herliving anywhere but here.

Eleanor

She’d never lied to her mother. Not about any-thing important, anyway. But on Sunday night,while Richie was at the bar, Eleanor told hermom that she might go over to a friend’s houseafter school the next day.

‘Who’s that?’ her mom asked.‘Tina,’ Eleanor said. It was the first name she

thought of. ‘She lives in the neighborhood.’Her mom was distracted. Richie was late, and

his steak was drying out in the oven. If she took itout, he’d be pissed that it was cold. But if she leftit in, he’d be pissed that it was tough.

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‘Okay,’ she said. ‘I’m glad you’re finallymaking friends.’

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CHAPTER 21

Eleanor

Would he look different?Now that she knew that he loved her? (Or

that he had loved her, at least for a minute or twoon Friday night. At least enough to say so.)

Would he look different?Would he look away?He did look different. More beautiful than

ever. When she got on the bus, Park was sittingtall in the seat, so she could see him. (Or maybeso that he could see her.) And when he let her in-to the seat, he sat back down again against her.They both slouched down low.

‘That was the longest weekend of my life,’ hesaid.

She laughed and leaned into him.

‘Are you over me?’ he asked. She wished shecould say things like that. That she could ask himquestions like that, even in a joking way.

‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘Over and over and over.’‘Yeah?’‘Yeah, no.’She reached into his jacket and slipped the

Beatles tape into his T-shirt pocket. He caughther hand and held it to his heart.

‘What’s this?’ He pulled the tape out with hisother hand.

‘The greatest songs ever written. You’rewelcome.’

He rubbed her hand against his chest. Justbarely. Just enough to make her blush.

‘Thank you,’ he said.She waited until they were at her locker to

tell him the other thing. She didn’t want anyoneto hear. He was standing next to her and pur-posely bumping his backpack into her shoulder.

‘I told my mom that I might go over to afriend’s house after school.’

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‘You did?’‘Yeah, it doesn’t have to be today though. I

don’t think she’ll change her mind.’‘No, today. Come over today.’‘Don’t you have to ask your mom?’He shook his head. ‘She doesn’t care. I can

even have girls in my room, if I keep the dooropen.’

‘Girl-zzz? You’ve had enough girls in yourroom to require a ruling?’

‘Oh, yeah,’ he said. ‘You know me.’I don’t, she thought to herself, not really.

Park

For the first time in weeks, Park didn’t have thatanxious feeling in his stomach on the way homefrom school, like he had to soak up enough ofEleanor to keep him until the next day.

He had a different anxious feeling. Now thathe was actually introducing Eleanor to his mom,

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he couldn’t help but see her the way his momwas going to.

His mom was a beautician who sold Avon.She never left the house without touching up hermascara. When Patti Smith was on SaturdayNight Live, his mom had gotten upset – ‘Why shewant to look like man? It’s so sad.’

Eleanor, today, was wearing her sharkskinsuit jacket and an old plaid cowboy shirt. She hadmore in common with his grandpa than his mom.

And it wasn’t just the clothes. It was her.Eleanor wasn’t … nice.She was good. She was honorable. She was

honest. She would definitely help an old ladyacross the street. But nobody – not even the oldlady – would ever say, ‘Have you met that Elean-or Douglas? What a nice girl.’

Park’s mom liked nice. She loved nice. Sheliked smiling and small talk and eye contact …All things Eleanor sucked at.

Also, his mom didn’t get sarcasm. And hewas pretty sure it wasn’t a language thing. She

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just didn’t get it. She called David Letterman ‘theugly, mean one on after Johnny.’

Park realized that his hands were sweatingand let go of Eleanor’s. He put his hand on herknee instead, and that felt so good, so new, hestopped thinking about his mom for a fewminutes.

When they got to his stop, he stood in theaisle and waited for her. But she shook her head.‘I’ll meet you there,’ she said.

He felt relieved. And then guilty. As soon asthe bus pulled away, he ran to his house. Hisbrother wouldn’t be home yet, that was good.‘Mom!’

‘In here!’ she called from the kitchen. Shewas painting her nails a pearly pink.

‘Mom,’ he said. ‘Hey. Um, Eleanor’s comingover in few minutes. My, um, my Eleanor. Now.Is that okay?’

‘Right now?’ She shook the bottle. Click,click, click.

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‘Yeah, don’t make a big deal, okay? Just …be cool.’

‘Okay,’ she said. ‘I’m cool.’He nodded, then looked around the kitchen

and the living room to make sure there was noth-ing weird sitting out. He checked his room, too.His mom had made his bed.

He opened the door before Eleanor knocked.‘Hi,’ she said. She looked nervous. Well, she

looked angry, but he was pretty sure that was be-cause she was nervous.

‘Hey,’ he said. This morning, all he’d beenable to think about was how to get more servingsof Eleanor into his day, but now that she washere … he wished he had thought this through.‘Come on in,’ he said. ‘And smile,’ he whisperedat the second-to-last second, ‘okay?’

‘What?’‘Smile.’‘Why?’‘Never mind.’

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His mom was standing in the doorway to thekitchen.

‘Mom, this is Eleanor,’ he said.His mom smiled broadly.Eleanor smiled, too, but it was all messed up.

She looked like she was squinting into a brightlight or getting ready to tell someone bad news.

He thought he saw his mom’s pupils widen,but he was probably imagining it.

Eleanor went to shake his mom’s hand, butshe waved them in the air, like ‘sorry my nailsare wet,’ a gesture that Eleanor didn’t seem torecognize.

‘It’s nice to meet you, Eleanor.’ El-la-no.‘It’s nice to meet you,’ Eleanor said, still

squinty and weird.‘You live close enough to walk?’ his mom

asked.Eleanor nodded.‘That’s nice,’ his mom said.Eleanor nodded.‘You kids want some pop? Some snacks?’

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‘No,’ Park said, cutting her off. ‘I mean …’Eleanor shook her head.‘We’re just going to watch some TV,’ he

said, ‘okay?’‘Sure,’ his mom said. ‘You know where to

find me.’She went back in the kitchen, and Park

walked over to the couch. He wished he lived ina split-level or a house with a finished basement.Whenever he went over to Cal’s house in westOmaha, Cal’s mom sent them downstairs and leftthem alone.

Park sat on the couch. Eleanor sat at the otherend. She was staring at the floor and chewing onthe skin around her fingernails.

He turned on MTV and took a deep breath.After a few minutes, he scooted toward the

middle of the couch. ‘Hey,’ he said. Eleanorstared at the coffee table. There was big bunch ofred glass grapes on the table. His mom lovedgrapes. ‘Hey,’ he said again.

He scooted closer.

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‘Why did you tell me to smile?’ shewhispered.

‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘Because I wasnervous.’

‘Why are you nervous? This is your house.’‘I know, but I’ve never brought anyone like

you home before.’She looked at the television. There was a

Wang Chung video on.Eleanor stood up suddenly. ‘I’ll see you

tomorrow.’‘No,’ he said. He stood up, too. ‘What?

Why?’‘Just. I’ll see you tomorrow,’ she said.‘No,’ he said. He took her arm by the elbow.

‘You just got here. What is it?’She looked up at him painfully, ‘Anyone like

me?’‘That’s not what I meant,’ he said. ‘I meant

anyone I care about.’She took a breath and shook her head. There

were tears on her cheeks. ‘It doesn’t matter. I

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shouldn’t be here, I’m going to embarrass you.I’m going home.’

‘No,’ he pulled her closer. ‘Calm down,okay?’

‘What if your mom sees me crying?’‘That … wouldn’t be great, but I don’t want

you to leave.’ He was afraid that if she left now,she’d never come back. ‘Come on, sit next tome.’

Park sat down and pulled Eleanor down nextto him, so he was sitting between her and thekitchen.

‘I hate meeting new people,’ she whispered.‘Why?’‘Because they never like me.’‘I liked you.’‘No, you didn’t, I had to wear you down.’‘I like you now.’ He put his arm around her.‘Don’t. What if your mom comes in?’‘She won’t care.’‘I care,’ Eleanor said, pushing him away. ‘It’s

too much. You’re making me nervous.’

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‘Okay,’ he said, giving her space. ‘Just don’tleave.’

She nodded and looked at the TV.After a while, maybe twenty minutes, she

stood up again.‘Stay a little longer,’ he said. ‘Don’t you want

to meet my dad?’‘I super don’t want to meet your dad.’‘Will you come back tomorrow?’‘I don’t know.’‘I wish I could walk you home.’‘You can walk me to the door.’ He did.‘Will you tell your mom I said goodbye? I

don’t want her to think I’m rude.’‘Yeah.’Eleanor stepped out onto his porch.‘Hey,’ he said. It came out hard and frus-

trated. ‘I told you to smile because you’re prettywhen you smile.’

She walked to the bottom of the steps, thenlooked back at him. ‘It’d be better if you thoughtI was pretty when I don’t.’

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‘That’s not what I meant,’ he said, but shewas walking away.

When Park went inside, his mother came outto smile at him.

‘Your Eleanor seems nice,’ she said.He nodded and went to his room. No, he

thought, falling onto his bed. No, she doesn’t.

Eleanor

He was probably going to break up with her to-morrow. Whatever. At least she wouldn’t have tomeet his dad. God, what must his dad be like? Helooked just like Tom Selleck; Eleanor had seen afamily portrait sitting on their TV cabinet. Parkin grade school, by the way? Extremely cute.Like, Webster cute. The whole family was cute.Even his white brother.

His mom looked exactly like a doll. In TheWizard of Oz – the book, not the movie –Dorothy goes to this place called the Dainty Ch-ina Country, and all the people are tiny and

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perfect. When Eleanor was little and her momread her the story, Eleanor had thought theDainty China people were Chinese. But theywere actually ceramic, or they’d turn ceramic, ifyou tried to sneak one back to Kansas.

Eleanor imagined Park’s dad, Tom Selleck,tucking his Dainty China person into his flakjacket and sneaking her out of Korea.

Park’s mom made Eleanor feel like a giant.Eleanor couldn’t be that much taller than her,maybe three or four inches. But Eleanor was somuch bigger. If you were an alien who came toEarth to study its life forms, you wouldn’t eventhink the two of them were the same species.

When Eleanor was around girls like that –like Park’s mom, like Tina, like most of the girlsin the neighborhood – she wondered where theyput their organs. Like, how could you have astomach and intestines and kidneys, and stillwear such tiny jeans? Eleanor knew that she wasfat, but she didn’t feel that fat. She could feel herbones and muscles just underneath all the chub,

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and they were big, too. Park’s mom could wearEleanor’s ribcage like a roomy vest.

Park was probably going to break up with hertomorrow, and not even because she was huge.He was going to break up with her because shewas a huge mess. Because she couldn’t even bearound regular people without freaking out.

It was just too much. Meeting his pretty, per-fect mom. Seeing his normal, perfect house.Eleanor hadn’t known there were houses like thatin this crappy neighborhood – houses with wall-to-wall carpeting and little baskets of potpourrieverywhere. She didn’t know there were familieslike that. The only upside to living in this effed-up neighborhood was that everybody else waseffed up, too. The other kids might hate Eleanorfor being big and weird, but they weren’t goingto hate on her for having a broken family and abroke-down house. That was kind of the rulearound here.

Park’s family didn’t fit. They were the Cleav-ers. And he’d told her that his grandparents lived

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in the house next door, which had flower boxes,for Christ’s sake. His family was practically theWaltons.

Eleanor’s family had been messed up evenbefore Richie came around and sent everythingstraight to hell.

She would never belong in Park’s livingroom. She never felt like she belonged anywhere,except for when she was lying on her bed, pre-tending to be somewhere else.

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CHAPTER 22

Eleanor

When Eleanor got to their seat the next morning,Park didn’t stand up to let her in. He just scootedover. It didn’t seem like he wanted to look at her;he handed her some comic books, then turnedaway.

Steve was being really loud. Maybe he wasalways this loud. When Park was holding herhand, Eleanor couldn’t even hear herself think.

Everyone in the back of the bus was singingthe Nebraska fight song. There was some biggame coming up this weekend, against Oklahomaor Oregon or something. Mr Stessman was givingthem extra credit all week for wearing red. Youwouldn’t think Mr Stessman would be prone to

all this Husker crap, but it seemed like nobodywas immune.

Except Park.Park was wearing a U2 shirt today with a pic-

ture of a little boy on the chest. Eleanor had beenup all night thinking about how he was probablydone with her, and now she just wanted to putherself out of her misery.

She pulled at the edge of his sleeve.‘Yeah?’ Park said softly.‘Are you over me?’ she asked. It didn’t come

out like a joke. Because it wasn’t.He shook his head, but looked out the

window.‘Are you mad at me?’ she asked.His fingers were locked loosely together in

his lap, like he was thinking about praying. ‘Sortof.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she said.‘You don’t even know why I’m mad.’‘I’m still sorry.’He looked at her then and smiled a little.

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‘Do you want to know?’ he asked.‘No.’‘Why not?’‘Because it’s probably for something I can’t

help.’‘Like what?’ he asked.‘Like for being weird,’ she said. ‘Or … for

hyperventilating in your living room.’‘I feel like that was partly my fault.’‘I’m sorry,’ she said.‘Eleanor, stop, listen, I’m mad because I feel

like you decided to leave my house as soon asyou walked in, maybe even before that.’

‘I felt like I shouldn’t be there,’ she said. Shedidn’t say it loud enough to be heard over thecreeps in the back. (Seriously. Their singing waseven worse than their shouting.) ‘I didn’t feel likeyou wanted me there,’ she said, a little louder.

The way Park looked at her then, biting hisbottom lip, she knew she was at least a little bitright.

She’d wanted to be all wrong.

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She’d wanted him to tell her that he did wanther at his house, that he wanted her to come backand try again.

Park said something, but she couldn’t hearhim, because now the kids in the back werechanting. Steve was standing at the back of theaisle, waving his gorilla arms like a conductor.

Go. Big. Red.Go. Big. Red.Go. Big. Red.She looked around. Everyone was saying it.Go. Big. Red.Go. Big. Red.Eleanor’s fingertips went cold. She looked

around again, and realized that they were alllooking at her.

Go. Big. Red.Realized that they meant it for her.Go. Big. Red.She looked at Park. He knew it, too. He was

staring straight ahead. His fists were clenched

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tight at his sides. He looked like someone she’dnever met.

‘It’s okay,’ she said.He closed his eyes and shook his head.The bus was parking in front of their school,

and Eleanor couldn’t wait to get off. She forcedherself to stay in her seat until it stopped, and tocalmly walk forward. The chanting broke up intolaughter. Park was right behind her, but hestopped as soon as he was off the bus. He threwhis backpack on the ground and took off his coat.

Eleanor stopped, too. ‘Hey,’ she said, ‘wait,no. What are you doing?’

‘I’m ending this.’‘No. Come on. It’s not worth it.’‘You are,’ he said fiercely, looking at her.

‘You’re worth it.’‘This isn’t for me,’ she said. She wanted to

pull at him, but she didn’t feel like he was hers tohold back. ‘I don’t want this.’

‘I’m tired of them embarrassing you.’

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Steve was getting off the bus, and Parkclenched his fists again.

‘Embarrassing me?’ she said. ‘Or embarrass-ing you?’

He looked back at her, stricken. And sheknew again that she was right. Damn it. Why didhe keep letting her be right about all the crappystuff?

‘If this is for me,’ she said, as fiercely as shecould, ‘then listen to me. I don’t want this.’

He looked in her eyes. His eyes were sogreen, they looked yellow. He was breathingheavy, and his face was dark red under the gold.

‘Is it for me?’ she asked.He nodded. He dug into her with his eyes. He

looked like he was begging for something.‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘Please. Let’s go to

class.’He closed his eyes and, eventually, nodded.

She bent over to get his coat, and heard Stevesay, ‘That’s right, Red. Show it off.’

And then Park was gone.

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When she turned to look, he was alreadyshoving Steve back toward the bus. They lookedlike David and Goliath, if David had gotten closeenough to let Goliath kick his ass.

Kids were already yelling ‘fight!’ and run-ning from every direction. Eleanor ran, too.

She heard Park say, ‘I’m so sick of yourmouth.’

And she heard Steve say, ‘Are you seriouswith this?’

He pushed Park hard, but Park didn’t fall.Park took a few steps back, then cranked hisshoulder forward, spinning into the air and kick-ing Steve right in the mouth. The whole crowdgasped.

Tina screamed.Steve sprung forward almost as soon as Park

landed, swinging his giant fists and clubbing Parkin the head.

Eleanor thought that she might be watchinghim die.

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She ran to get between them, but Tina wasalready there. Then one of the bus drivers wasthere. And an assistant principal. All pushingthem apart.

Park was panting and hanging his head.Steve was holding his own mouth. There was

a waterfall of blood on his chin. ‘Jesus Christ,Park, what the fuck? I think you knocked out mytooth.’

Park lifted his head. His whole face wascovered with blood. He staggered forward andthe assistant principal caught him. ‘Leave … mygirlfriend … alone.’

‘I didn’t know she was really your girlfriend,’Steve shouted. A bunch more blood spilled out ofhis mouth.

‘Jesus, Steve. It shouldn’t matter.’‘It matters,’ Steve spat. ‘You’re my friend. I

didn’t know she was your girlfriend.’Park put his hands on his knees and shook his

head, splattering the sidewalk.‘Well, she is.’

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‘All right,’ Steve said. ‘Jesus.’There were enough adults now to herd the

boys to the building. Eleanor carried Park’s coatand his backpack to her locker. She didn’t knowwhat to do with them.

She didn’t know what to do with herselfeither. She didn’t know how to feel.

Was she supposed to be happy that Park hadcalled her his girlfriend? It’s not like he’d givenher any choice in the matter – and it’s not likehe’d said it happily. He said it with his headdown, with his face dripping blood.

Should she be worried about him? Could hestill have brain damage, even though he’d beentalking? Could he still stroke out, or fall into acoma? Whenever anyone in her family was fight-ing, her mother would start shouting, ‘Not in thehead, not in the head!’

Also, was it wrong to be so worried aboutPark’s face?

Steve had the kind of face that could take orleave teeth. A few gaps in Steve’s smile would

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just add to the big creepy goon look he wasrocking.

But Park’s face was like art. And not weird,ugly art either. Park had the sort of face youpainted because you didn’t want history to forgetit.

Was Eleanor supposed to be mad at him still?Was she supposed to be indignant? Was she sup-posed to shout at him when she saw him in Eng-lish class, ‘Was that for me? Or for you?’

She hung his trench coat in her locker, andleaned in to take a deep breath. It smelled likeIrish Spring and a little bit like potpourri and likesomething she couldn’t describe anyway otherthan boy.

Park wasn’t in English or history, and he wasn’ton the bus after school. Neither was Steve. Tinawalked by Eleanor’s seat with her head in the air;Eleanor looked away. Everybody else on the buswas talking about the fight. ‘Fucking Kung Fu,fucking David Carradine.’ And ‘Fuck David Car-radine – fucking Chuck Norris.’

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Eleanor got off at Park’s stop.

Park

He was suspended for two days.Steve was suspended for two weeks because

this was his third fight of the year. Park felt kindof bad about that – because Park was the onewho’d started the fight – but then he thoughtabout all the other ridiculous crap Steve did everyday and never got busted for.

Park’s mom was so mad, she wouldn’t comeget him. She called his dad at work. When hisdad showed up, the principal thought he wasSteve’s dad.

‘Actually,’ his dad said, pointing at Park,‘that one’s mine.’

The school nurse said Park didn’t have to gothe hospital, but he looked pretty bad. He had ablack eye and probably a broken nose.

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Steve did have to go the hospital. His toothwas loose, and the nurse was pretty sure he’dbroken a finger.

Park waited in the office with ice on his facewhile his dad talked to the principal. The secret-ary brought him a Sprite from the teachers’lounge.

His dad didn’t say anything until they weredriving.

‘Taekwando is the art of self-defense,’ hesaid sternly.

Park didn’t answer. His whole face wasthrobbing; the nurse wasn’t allowed to give outTylenol.

‘Did you really kick him in the face?’ his dadasked.

Park nodded.‘That had to be a jump kick.’‘Jump reverse hook,’ Park groaned.‘No way.’

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Park tried to give his dad a dirty look, but anylook at all felt like getting hit in the face withrocks.

‘He’s lucky you wear those little tennisshoes,’ his dad said, ‘even in the middle of winter… Seriously, a jump reverse hook?’

Park nodded.‘Huh. Well, your mom is going to hit the

goddamn roof when she sees you. She was atyour grandma’s house, crying, when she calledme.’

His dad was right. When Park walked in, hismom was practically incoherent.

She took him by the shoulders and looked upat his face, shaking her head. ‘Fighting!’ she said,stabbing her index finger into his chest. ‘Fightinglike white-trash dumb monkey …’

He’d seen her this mad at Josh before – he’dseen her throw a basket of silk flowers at Josh’shead – but never at him.

‘Waste,’ she said. ‘Waste! Fighting! Can’ttrust you with own face.’

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His dad tried to put his hand on her shoulder,but she shook him off.

‘Get the boy a steak, Harold,’ his grandmasaid, sitting Park at the kitchen table and inspect-ing his face.

‘I’m not wasting a steak on that,’ his grandpasaid.

His dad went to the cupboard to get Parksome Tylenol and a glass of water.

‘Can you breathe?’ his grandma asked.‘Through my mouth,’ Park said.‘Your dad broke his nose so many times, he

can only breathe through one nostril. That’s whyhe snores like a freight train.’

‘No more taekwando,’ his mom said. ‘Nomore fighting.’

‘Mindy …’ his dad said. ‘It was one fight. Hewas sticking up for some girl the kids pick on.’

‘She’s not some girl,’ Park growled. Hisvoice made every bone in his head vibrate withpain. ‘She’s my girlfriend.’

He hoped so, anyway.

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‘Is it the redhead?’ his grandma asked.‘Eleanor,’ he said. ‘Her name – is Eleanor.’‘No girlfriend, no,’ his mom said, folding her

arms. ‘Grounded.’

Eleanor

When Eleanor rang the doorbell, Magnum P.I.answered.

‘Hi,’ she said, trying to smile. ‘I go to schoolwith Park. I have his books and stuff.’

Park’s dad looked her up and down, but notlike he was checking her out, thank God. Morelike he was sizing her up. (Which was also un-comfortable.) ‘Are you Helen?’ he asked.

‘Eleanor,’ she said.‘Eleanor, right … Just a second.’Before she could tell him that she just wanted

to drop off Park’s stuff, he walked away. He leftthe door open, and Eleanor could hear him talk-ing to someone, probably in the kitchen, probablyPark’s mom. ‘Come on, Mindy …’ And, ‘Just for

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a few minutes …’ And then, right before he cameback to the door, ‘With a nickname like Big Red,I expected her to be a lot bigger.’

‘I was just dropping this off,’ Eleanor saidwhen he pushed the screen open.

‘Thanks,’ he said, ‘come on in.’Eleanor held up Park’s backpack.‘Seriously, kid,’ he said. ‘Come on in and

give it to him yourself. I’m sure he wants to seeyou.’

Don’t be, she thought.But she followed him through the living

room, down the short hall to Park’s room. Hisdad knocked softly and peeked in the door.

‘Hey. Sugar Ray. Someone’s here to see you.You want to powder your nose first?’

He opened the door for Eleanor, then walkedaway.

Park’s room was small, but it was packedwith stuff. Stacks of books and tapes and comicbooks. Model airplanes. Model cars. Board

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games. A rotating solar system hung over his bedlike one of those things you put over a crib.

Park was on his bed, trying to prop himselfup on his elbows, when she walked in.

She gasped when she saw his face. It lookedso much worse than it had earlier.

One of his eyes was swollen shut, and hisnose was thick and purple. It made her want tocry. And to kiss him. (Because apparentlyeverything made her want to kiss him. Park couldtell her that he had lice and leprosy and parasiticworms living in his mouth, and she would stillput on fresh ChapStik. God.)

‘Are you okay?’ she asked. Park nodded andsat up against his headboard. She set down hisbag and his coat, and walked over to the bed. Hemade room for her, so she sat down.

‘Whoa,’ she said, falling backwards, tippingPark on his side. He groaned and grabbed herarm.

‘Sorry,’ she said, ‘oh my God, sorry, are youokay? I wasn’t expecting a waterbed.’ Just saying

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that word made her giggle. Park laughed a little,too. It sounded like snorting.

‘My mom bought it,’ he said. ‘She thinksthey’re good for your back.’

He was keeping both of his eyes mostly shut,even the good one, and he didn’t open his mouthwhen he talked.

‘Does it hurt to talk?’ she asked.He nodded. He hadn’t let go of her arm, even

though she’d recovered her balance. If anything,he was holding it tighter.

She reached up with her other hand andlightly touched his hair. Brushed it out of hisface. It felt smooth and sharp at the same time,like she could feel each strand under herfingertips.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said.She didn’t ask why.There were tears pooling in the slit of his left

eye and slipping down his right cheek. She star-ted to wipe them away, but she didn’t want totouch him.

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‘It’s okay …’ she said. She let her hand settlein her own lap.

She wondered if he was still trying to breakup with her. If he was, she wouldn’t hold itagainst him.

‘Did I ruin everything?’ he asked.‘Every-what?’ she whispered, as if listening

might hurt him, too.‘Every-us.’She shook her head, even though he probably

couldn’t see her. ‘Not. Possible,’ she said.He ran his palm down her arm and squeezed

her hand. She could see the muscles flex in hisforearm and just under the sleeve of his T-shirt.

‘I think you might have ruined your face,’ shesaid.

He groaned.‘Which is okay,’ she said, ‘because you were

way too cute for me, anyway.’‘You think I’m cute?’ he said thickly, pulling

on her hand.

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She was glad he couldn’t see her face. ‘Ithink you’re …’

Beautiful. Breathtaking. Like the person in aGreek myth who makes one of the gods stopcaring about being a god.

Somehow the bruises and swelling made Parkeven more beautiful. His face looked ready tobreak out of its chrysalis.

‘They’re still going to make fun of me,’ sheblurted. ‘This fight doesn’t change that. Youcan’t start kicking people every time someonethinks I’m weird or ugly … Promise me youwon’t try. Promise me that you’ll try not to care.’

He pulled on her hand again, and shook hishead, gingerly.

‘Because it doesn’t matter to me, Park. If youlike me,’ she said, ‘I swear to God, nothing elsematters.’

He leaned back into his headboard, andpulled her hand to his chest.

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‘Eleanor, how many times do I have to tellyou,’ he said, through his teeth, ‘that I don’t likeyou …’

Park was grounded, and he wouldn’t be back atschool until Friday.

But nobody bothered Eleanor the next day onthe bus. Nothing bothered her all day long.

After gym class, she found more pervy stuffwritten on her chemistry book – ‘pop thatcherry,’ written in globby purple ink. Instead ofscribbling it out, Eleanor tore off the cover andthrew it away. She might be broke and pathetic,but she could still scrounge up another brown pa-per bag.

When Eleanor got home after school, hermom followed her into the kids’ room. Therewere two new pairs of Goodwill jeans folded onthe top bunk.

‘I found some money when I was doing laun-dry,’ her mom said. Which meant that Richie hadaccidentally left money in his pants. If he came

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home drunk, he’d never ask about it – he’d justassume he spent it at the bar.

Whenever her mom found money, she tried tospend it on things Richie would never notice.Clothes for Eleanor. New underwear for Ben.Cans of tuna fish and bags of flour. Things thatcould be hidden in drawers and cupboards.

Her mom had become some sort of geniusdouble agent since she hooked up with Richie. Itwas like she was keeping them all alive behindhis back.

Eleanor tried the jeans on before anybodyelse got home. They were a little big, but muchnicer than anything else she had. All her otherpants had something wrong with them – a brokenzipper or a tear in the crotch – some flaw she hadto hide by constantly pulling down her shirt. Itwould be nice to have jeans that didn’t do any-thing worse than sag.

Maisie’s present was a bag of half-dressedBarbies. When Maisie got home, she laid all the

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dolls out on the bottom bunk, trying to put to-gether one or two complete outfits for them.

Eleanor climbed onto the bed with her andhelped comb and braid their frayed hair.

‘I wish there’d been a Ken in there,’ Maisiesaid.

On Friday morning, when Eleanor got to her busstop, Park was already there waiting for her.

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CHAPTER 23

Park

His eye went from purple to blue to green toyellow.

‘How long am I grounded?’ he asked hismother.

‘Long enough to make you sorry about fight,’she said.

‘I am sorry,’ he said.But he wasn’t really. The fight had changed

something on the bus. Park felt less anxious now– more relaxed. Maybe it was because he’d stoodup to Steve. Maybe it was because he had noth-ing left to hide …

Plus nobody on the bus had ever seen any-body kick like that in real life.

‘It was pretty fantastic,’ Eleanor said on theway to school, a few days after he came back.‘Where did you learn to do that?’

‘My dad’s been making me go to taekwandosince kindergarten … It was actually kind of astupid, show-offy kick. If Steve had been think-ing, he could have grabbed my leg or pushedme.’

‘If Steve had been thinking …’ she said.‘I thought you’d think it was lame,’ he said.‘I did.’‘Lame and fantastic?’‘Those are both your middle names …’‘I want to try again.’‘Try what again? Your Karate Kid thing? I

think that would be less fantastic. You’ve got toknow when to walk away …’

‘No, I want you to come over again. Wouldyou?’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said. ‘You’regrounded.’

‘Yeah …’

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Eleanor

Everybody at school knew that Eleanor was thereason Park Sheridan kicked Steve Dixon in themouth.

There was a new kind of whispering whenshe walked down the halls.

Somebody in geography asked her if it wastrue that they were fighting over her. ‘No!’Eleanor said. ‘For Christ’s sake.’

Later she wished that she would have said‘Yes!’ – because if that had gotten back to Tina,oh my God, it would have made her furious.

On the day of the fight, DeNice and Beebiwanted Eleanor to tell them every gory detail.Especially the gory details. DeNice even boughtEleanor an ice cream cone to celebrate.

‘Anyone who whups Steve Dixon’s sorry assdeserves a medal,’ DeNice said.

‘I didn’t go near Steve’s ass,’ Eleanor said.‘But you were the cause of the ass-whup-

ping,’ DeNice said. ‘I heard your boy kicked himso hard, Steve cried blood.’

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‘That’s not true,’ Eleanor said.‘Girl, you need to learn a lesson about stand-

ing in your own light,’ DeNice said. ‘If myJonesy kicked Steve’s ass, I’d be walking aroundthis place singing that song from Rocky. Nuh-nuh, nuhhh, nuh-nuh, nuhhh …’

That made Beebi giggle. Everything DeNicesaid made Beebi giggle. They’d been best friendssince grade school, and the better she got to knowthem, the more Eleanor felt like it was an honorthat they’d let her into their club.

Granted, it was a weird club.DeNice was wearing her overalls today with

a pink T-shirt, pink and yellow hair ribbons and apink bandana tied around her leg. When theywere standing in line for ice cream, some boywalked by and told DeNice that she looked like ablack Punky Brewster.

DeNice didn’t even flinch. ‘I don’t need toworry about that riffraff,’ she said to Eleanor. ‘Igot a man.’

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Jonesy and DeNice were engaged. He’dalready graduated and was working as an assist-ant manager at ShopKo. They were getting mar-ried as soon as DeNice was legal.

‘And your man’s fine,’ Beebi said, giggling.When Beebi giggled, Eleanor giggled, too.

Beebi’s laugh was that contagious. And she al-ways had a manic, surprised look in her eyes –that look people get when they can’t keep astraight face.

‘Eleanor wouldn’t think he’s fine,’ DeNiceteased. ‘She’s only interested in stone-coldkillers.’

Park

‘How long am I grounded?’ Park asked hisfather.

‘That’s not up to me, that’s up to yourmother.’

His dad was sitting on the couch, reading Sol-dier of Fortune.

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‘She says forever,’ Park said.‘I guess it’s forever then.’It was almost Christmas break. If Park was

grounded during Christmas break, he’d have togo three weeks without seeing Eleanor.

‘Dad …’‘I’ve got an idea,’ his dad said, setting down

the magazine. ‘You can be ungrounded as soonas you learn to drive a stick. Then you can driveyour girlfriend around …’

‘What girlfriend?’ his mother said. She camein the front door, carrying groceries. Park got upto help her. His dad got up to give her awelcome-home tongue kiss.

‘I told Park I’d unground him if he learnedhow to drive.’

‘I know how to drive,’ Park shouted from thekitchen.

‘Learning how to drive an automatic is likelearning how to do a girl pushup,’ his dad said.

‘No girl,’ his mother said. ‘Grounded.’

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‘But for how long?’ Park asked, walking backinto the living room. His parents were sitting onthe couch. ‘You can’t ground me forever.’

‘Sure we can,’ his dad said.‘Why?’ Park asked.His mother looked agitated. ‘You’re groun-

ded until you stop thinking about that troublegirl.’

Park and his dad both broke character to lookat her.

‘What trouble girl?’ Park asked.‘Big Red?’ his dad asked.‘I don’t like her,’ his mother said, adamantly.

‘She comes to my house and cries, very weirdgirl, and then next thing I know, you’re kickingfriends and school is calling, face broken … Andeverybody, everybody, tell me that family istrouble. Just trouble. I don’t want it.’

Park took a breath and held it. Everything in-side of him felt too hot to let out.

‘Mindy …’ his dad said, holding a wait-a-minute hand up to Park.

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‘No,’ she said, ‘no. No weird white girl in myhouse.’

‘I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but weirdwhite girls are my only option,’ Park said asloudly as he could. Even this angry, he couldn’tyell at his mother.

‘There are other girls,’ his mother said.‘Good girls.’

‘She is a good girl,’ Park said. ‘You don’teven know her.’

His dad was standing, pushing Park towardthe door. ‘Go,’ he said sternly. ‘Go play basket-ball or something.’

‘Good girls don’t dress like boys,’ his mothersaid.

‘Go,’ his dad said.Park didn’t feel like playing basketball, and it

was too cold outside without his coat. He stood infront of his house for a few minutes, thenstomped over to his grandparents’ house. Heknocked, then opened the door; they never lockedit.

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They were both in the kitchen, watchingFamily Feud. His grandmother was making Pol-ish sausage.

‘Park!’ she said. ‘I must have known youwere coming. I made way too many Tater Tots.’

‘I thought you were grounded,’ his grandpasaid.

‘Hush, Harold, you can’t be grounded fromyour own grandparents … Are you feeling okay,honey? You look flushed.’

‘I’m just cold,’ Park said.‘Are you staying for dinner?’‘Yeah,’ he said.After dinner, they watched Matlock. His

grandmother crocheted. She was working on ablanket for somebody’s baby shower. Park staredat the TV, but didn’t take anything in.

His grandmother had filled the wall behindthe TV with framed eight-by-ten photographs.There were pictures of his dad and his dad’solder brother who died in Vietnam, and picturesof Park and Josh from every school year. There

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was a smaller photo of his parents, on their wed-ding day. His dad was in his dress uniform, andhis mom was wearing a pink miniskirt. Some-body had written ‘Seoul, 1970’ in the corner. Hisdad was twenty-three. His mom was eighteen,only two years older than Park.

Everybody had thought she must be pregnant,his dad had told him. But she wasn’t. ‘Practicallypregnant,’ his dad said, ‘but that’s a differentthing … We were just in love.’

Park hadn’t expected his mom to like Elean-or, not right away – but he hadn’t expected her toreject her, either. His mom was so nice to every-body. ‘Your mother’s an angel,’ his grandma al-ways said. It’s what everyone always said.

His grandparents sent him home after HillStreet Blues.

His mom had gone to bed, but his dad wassitting on the couch, waiting for him. Park triedto walk past.

‘Sit down,’ his dad said.Park sat down.

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‘You’re not grounded anymore.’‘Why not?’‘It doesn’t matter why not. You’re not groun-

ded, and your mother is sorry, you know, foreverything she said.’

‘You’re just saying that,’ Park said.His dad sighed. ‘Well, maybe I am. But that

doesn’t matter either. Your mother wants what’sbest for you, right? Hasn’t she always wantedwhat’s best for you?’

‘I guess …’‘So she’s just worried about you. She thinks

she can help you pick out a girlfriend the sameway she helps you pick out your classes and yourclothes …’

‘She doesn’t pick out my clothes.’‘Jesus, Park, could you just shut up and

listen?’Park sat quietly in the blue easy chair.‘This is new to us, you know? Your mother’s

sorry. She’s sorry that she hurt your feelings, and

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she wants you to invite your girlfriend over todinner.’

‘So that she can make her feel bad andweird?’

‘Well, she is kind of weird, isn’t she?’Park didn’t have the energy to be angry. He

sighed and let his head fall back on the chair. Hisdad kept talking.

‘Isn’t that why you like her?’

Park knew he should still be mad.He knew there were big chunks of this situ-

ation that were completely uncool and out oforder.

But he wasn’t grounded anymore, he was go-ing to get to spend more time with Eleanor …Maybe they’d even find a way to be alone. Parkcouldn’t wait to tell her. He couldn’t wait formorning.

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CHAPTER 24

Eleanor

It was a terrible thing to admit. But sometimesEleanor slept right through the yelling.

Especially after she’d been back a couplemonths. If she were to wake up every time Richiegot angry … If she got scared every time sheheard him yelling in the back room …

Sometimes Maisie would wake her up, crawl-ing into the top bunk. Maisie wouldn’t let Elean-or see her cry during the day, but she shook like alittle baby and sucked her thumb at night. All fiveof them had learned to cry without making anynoise. ‘It’s okay,’ Eleanor would say, huggingher. ‘It’s okay.’

Tonight, when Eleanor woke up, she knewsomething was different.

She heard the back door slam open. And sherealized that, before she’d been quite awake,she’d heard men’s voices outside. Men cursing.

There was more slamming in the kitchen –and then gunshots. Eleanor knew they were gun-shots, even though she’d never heard any before.

Gang members, she thought. Drug dealers.Rapists. Gang members who were also drug-dealing rapists. She could imagine a thousandheinous people who might have some bone topick out of Richie’s skull – even his friends werescary.

She must have started to get out of bed assoon as she heard the gunshots. She was alreadyon the bottom bunk, crawling over Maisie.‘Don’t move,’ she whispered, not sure whetherMaisie was awake.

Eleanor opened the window just enough to fitthrough. There wasn’t any screen. She climbedout and ran as lightly as she could off the porch.She stopped at the house next door – an old guynamed Gil lived there. He wore suspenders with

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T-shirts and gave them dirty looks when he wassweeping his sidewalk.

Gil took forever to answer the door, andwhen he did, Eleanor realized she’d used up allher adrenaline knocking.

‘Hi,’ she said weakly.He looked mean and mad as spit. Gil could

dirty-look Tina right under the table, and thenhe’d probably kick her.

‘Can I use your phone?’ she asked. ‘I need tocall the police.’

‘What?’ Gil barked. His hair was oiled down,and he even wore suspenders with his pajamas.

‘I need to call 911,’ she said. She soundedlike she was trying to borrow a cup of sugar. ‘Ormaybe you could call 911 for me? There are menin my house with … guns. Please.’

Gil didn’t seem impressed, but he let her in.His house was really nice inside. She wondered ifhe used to have a wife – or if he just really likedruffles. The phone was in the kitchen. ‘I think

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there are men in my house,’ Eleanor told the 911operator. ‘I heard gunshots.’

Gil didn’t tell her to leave, so she waited forthe police in his kitchen. He had a whole pan ofbrownies on the counter, but he didn’t offer herany. His refrigerator was covered with magnetsshaped like states, and he had an egg timer thatlooked like a chicken. He sat at the kitchen tableand lit a cigarette. He didn’t offer her one ofthose either.

When the police pulled up, Eleanor walkedout of the house, feeling silly suddenly about herbare feet. Gil shut the door behind her.

The cops didn’t get out of their car. ‘Youcalled 911?’ one of them asked.

‘I think there’s somebody in my house,’ shesaid shakily. ‘I heard people yelling andgunshots.’

‘All right,’ he said. ‘Hang on a minute, andwe’ll go in with you.’

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With me, Eleanor thought. She wasn’t goingback in there at all. What was she going to say tothe Hells Angels in her living room?

The police officers – two big guys in tallblack boots – parked and followed her up ontothe porch.

‘Go ahead,’ one said, ‘open the door.’‘I can’t. It’s locked.’‘How’d you get out?’‘The window.’‘Then go back through the window.’The next time Eleanor called 911, she was

going to request cops who wouldn’t send heralone into an occupied building. Did firemen dothis, too? Hey, kid, you go in first and unlock thedoor.

She climbed in the window, climbed overMaisie (still sleeping), ran into the living room,opened the front door, then ran back to her roomand sat on the bottom bunk.

‘This is the police,’ she heard.

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Then she heard Richie cussing, ‘What thefuck?’

Her mom: ‘What’s going on?’‘This is the police.’Her brothers and sisters were waking up and

crawling to each other frantically. Someonestepped on the baby and he started to cry.

Eleanor heard the police tramping through thehouse. She heard Richie shouting. The bedroomdoor flew open, and their mom came in like MrRochester’s wife, in a long, torn, whitenightgown.

‘Did you call them?’ she asked Eleanor.Eleanor nodded. ‘I heard gunshots,’ she said.‘Shhhh,’ her mother said, rushing to the bed

and pressing her hand too hard over Eleanor’smouth. ‘Don’t say anything more,’ she hissed. ‘Ifthey ask, say it was a mistake. This was all amistake.’

The door opened, and her mother moved herhand away. Two flashlights shot around the

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room. Her siblings were all awake and crying.Their eyes flashed like cats’.

‘They’re just scared,’ her mother said. ‘Theydon’t know what’s happening.’

‘There’s nobody here,’ the cop said to Elean-or, shining his light in her direction. ‘We checkedthe yard and the basement.’

It was more of an accusation than anassurance.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I thought I heardsomething …’

The lights went out, and Eleanor heard allthree men talking in the living room. She heardthe police officers on the porch, with their heavyboots, and she heard them drive away. The win-dow was still open.

Richie came into the room then – he nevercame into their room. Eleanor felt a new flood ofadrenaline.

‘What were you thinking?’ he asked softly.She didn’t say anything. Her mother held her

hand, and Eleanor locked her jaw shut.

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‘Richie, she didn’t know,’ her mom said.‘She just heard the gun.’

‘What the fuck,’ he said, slamming his fist in-to the door. The veneer splintered.

‘She thought she was protecting us, it was amistake.’

‘Are you trying to get rid of me?’ he shouted.‘Did you think you could get rid of me?’

Eleanor hid her face in her mother’s shoulder.It wasn’t a protection. It was like hiding behindthe thing in the room he was most likely to hit.

‘It was a mistake,’ her mother said gently.‘She was trying to help.’

‘You never call them here,’ he said to Elean-or, his voice dying, his eyes wild. ‘Never again.’

And then, shouting, ‘I can get rid of all ofyou.’ He slammed the door behind him.

‘Back to bed,’ her mother said. ‘Everybody…’

‘But, Mom …’ Eleanor whispered.‘In bed,’ her mom said, helping Eleanor up

the ladder to her bunk. Then her mom leaned in

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close, her mouth touching Eleanor’s ear. ‘It wasRichie,’ she whispered. ‘There were kids playingbasketball in the park, being loud … He was justtrying to scare them. But he doesn’t have a li-cense, and there are other things in the house – hecould have been arrested. No more tonight. Not abreath.’

She knelt down with the boys for a minute,petting and hushing, then floated out of the room.

Eleanor could swear she heard five hearts ra-cing. Every one of them was stifling a sob. Cry-ing inside out. She climbed out of her bed and in-to Maisie’s.

‘It’s okay,’ she whispered to the room. ‘It’sokay now.’

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CHAPTER 25

Park

Eleanor seemed off that morning. She didn’t sayanything while they waited for the bus. Whenthey got on, she dropped onto their seat andleaned against the wall.

Park pulled on her sleeve, and she not-even-half smiled.

‘Okay?’ he asked.She glanced up at him. ‘Now,’ she said.He didn’t believe her. He pulled on her sleeve

again.She fell against him and hid her face in his

shoulder.Park laid his face in her hair and closed his

eyes.‘Okay?’ he asked.

‘Almost,’ she said.She pulled away when the bus stopped. She

never let him hold her hand once they were offthe bus. She wouldn’t touch him in the hallways.‘People will look at us,’ she always said.

He couldn’t believe that still mattered to her.Girls who don’t want to be looked at don’t tiecurtain tassels in their hair. They don’t wearmen’s golf shoes with the spikes still attached.

So today he stood by her locker and onlythought about touching her. He wanted to tell herhis news – but she seemed so far away, he wasn’tsure she’d hear him.

Eleanor

Where would she go this time?Back to the Hickmans’?‘Hey, remember that time when my mom

asked if I could stay with you guys for a fewdays, and then she didn’t come back for a year? Ireally appreciate the fact that you didn’t turn me

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into Child Protective Services. That was veryChristian of you. Do you still have that foldoutcouch?’

Fuck.Before Richie moved in, Eleanor only knew

that word from books and bathroom walls. Fuck-ing woman. Fucking kids. Fuck you, you littlebitch – who the fuck touched my stereo?

Eleanor hadn’t seen it coming the last time.When Richie kicked her out.

She couldn’t have seen it coming because shenever thought it could happen. She never thoughthe’d try – and she never, ever thought her momwould go along with it. (Richie must have recog-nized before Eleanor did that her mother’s allegi-ances had shifted.)

It was embarrassing to think about the daythat it happened – embarrassing, on top ofeverything else – because it really was Eleanor’sfault. She really was asking for it.

She was in her room, typing song lyrics on anold manual typewriter that her mom had brought

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home from the Goodwill. It needed new ribbon(Eleanor had a box full of cartridges that didn’tfit), but it still worked. She loved everythingabout that typewriter, the way the keys felt, thesticky, crunchy noise they made. She even likedthe way it smelled, like metal and shoe polish.

She was bored that day, the day it happened.It was too hot to do anything but lie around or

read or watch TV. Richie was in the living room.He hadn’t gotten out of bed until 2:00 or 3:00,and everybody could tell he was in a bad mood.Her mom was walking around the house innervous circles, offering Richie lemonade andsandwiches and aspirin. Eleanor hated it whenher mom acted like that. Relentlessly submissive.It was humiliating to be in the same room.

So Eleanor was upstairs typing song lyrics.‘Scarborough Fair.’

She heard Richie complaining.‘What the fuck is that noise?’ And, ‘Fuck,

Sabrina, can’t you shut her up?’

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Her mom tiptoed up the stairs and ducked herhead into Eleanor’s room. ‘Richie isn’t feelingwell,’ she said. ‘Can you put that away?’ Shelooked pale and nervous. Eleanor hated that look.

She waited for her mother to get back down-stairs. Then, without really thinking about why,Eleanor deliberately pressed a key.

ACrunch-lap.Her fingertips trembled over the keyboard.RECrch-crch-lap-tap.Nothing happened. No one stirred. The house

was hot and stiff and as quiet as a library in hell.Eleanor closed her eyes and jerked her chin intothe air.

YOU GOING TO SCRABOROUGH FAIRPARSLEY SAAGE ROSEMAYRY ANDTHYME

Richie came up the stairs so fast, in Eleanor’shead he was flying. In Eleanor’s head, he burstopen the door by hurling a ball of fire at it.

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He was on her before she could brace herself,tearing the typewriter from her hands and throw-ing it into the wall so hard it broke through theplaster and hung for a moment in the lath.

Eleanor was too shocked to make out what hewas shouting at her. FAT and FUCK and BITCH.

He’d never come this close to her before. Herfear of him crushed her back. She didn’t wanthim to see it in her eyes, so she pressed her faceinto her hands in her pillow.

FAT and FUCK and BITCH. And IWARNED YOU, SABRINA.

‘I hate you,’ Eleanor whispered into the pil-low. She could hear things slamming. She couldhear her mother in the doorway, talking softly,like she was trying to put a baby back to sleep.

FAT and FUCK and BITCH and BEGGINGFOR IT, JUST FUCKING BEGGING FOR IT.

‘I hate you,’ Eleanor said louder. ‘I hate you,I hate you, I hate you.’

FUCK THIS.‘I hate you.’

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FUCK ALL OF YOU.‘Fuck you.’STUPID BITCHES.‘Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.’WHAT DID SHE JUST SAY?In Eleanor’s head, the house shook.Her mother was pulling on her then, trying to

pull her out of bed. Eleanor tried to come withher, but she was too scared to stand up. Shewanted to flatten herself to the floor and crawlaway. She wanted to pretend that the room wasfull of smoke.

Richie was roaring. Her mother pulled Elean-or to the top of the stairs, then pushed her down.He was right behind them.

Eleanor fell against the banister and practic-ally ran to the front door on all fours. She gotoutside and kept running to the end of the side-walk. Ben was sitting on the porch, playing withhis Hot Wheels. He stopped and watched Eleanorrun by.

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Eleanor wondered if she should keep running,but where would she go? Even when she was alittle girl, she never fantasized about runningaway. She could never imagine herself past theedge of the yard. Where would she go? Whowould take her?

When the front door opened again, Eleanortook a few steps into the street.

It was just her mom. She took Eleanor’s armand started walking quickly toward the neigh-bor’s house.

If Eleanor would have known then what wasabout to happen, she would have run back to tellBen goodbye. She would have looked for Maisieand Mouse and kissed them each hard on thecheek. Maybe she would have asked to go backinside to see the baby.

And if Richie had been inside waiting for her,maybe she would have dropped to her knees andbegged him to let her stay. Maybe she wouldhave said anything he wanted her to.

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If he wanted that now – if he wanted her to begfor forgiveness, for mercy, if that was the priceshe had to pay to stay – she’d do it.

She hoped he couldn’t see that.She hoped none of them could see what was

left of her.

Park

She ignored Mr Stessman in English class.In history, she stared out the window.On the way home, she wasn’t irritable; she

wasn’t anything at all.‘Okay?’ he asked.She nodded her head against him.When she got off the bus at her stop, Park

still hadn’t told her. So he jumped up and fol-lowed her, even though he knew she wouldn’twant him to.

‘Park …’ she said, looking nervously downthe street to her house.

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‘I know,’ he said, ‘but I wanted to tell you …I’m not grounded anymore.’

‘You’re not?’‘Uh-uh.’ He shook his head.‘That’s great,’ she said.‘Yeah …’She looked back at her house.‘It means you can come over again,’ he said.‘Oh,’ she said.‘I mean, if you want to.’ This wasn’t going

like he thought it would. Even when Eleanor waslooking at him, she wasn’t looking at him.

‘Oh,’ she said.‘Eleanor? Is everything okay?’She nodded.‘Do you still …’ He hung onto the backpack

straps across his chest. ‘I mean, do you still wantto? Do you still miss me?’

She nodded. She looked like she was going tocry. Park hoped she wouldn’t cry at his houseagain … If she ever came back. It felt like shewas slipping away.

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‘I’m just really tired,’ she said.291/593

CHAPTER 26

Eleanor

Did she miss him?She wanted to lose herself in him. To tie his

arms around her like a tourniquet.If she showed him how much she needed

him, he’d run away.

CHAPTER 27

Eleanor

Eleanor felt better the next morning. Morningsusually got the best of her.

This morning, she woke up with that stupidcat curled up against her like it couldn’t tell thatshe’d never liked him or cats in general.

And then her mom gave her a fried egg sand-wich that Richie hadn’t wanted, and pinned anold, chipped glass flower to Eleanor’s jacket.

‘I found it at the thrift shop,’ her mom said.‘Maisie wanted it, but I saved it for you.’ Shesmudged vanilla behind Eleanor’s ears.

‘I might go to Tina’s house after school,’Eleanor said.

‘Okay, have fun.’

Eleanor hoped that Park would be waiting forher at the bus stop, but she wouldn’t blame him ifhe wasn’t.

He was. He was standing there in the half-light, wearing a gray trench coat and black high-tops, and watching for her.

She ran past the last few houses to get to him.‘Good morning,’ she said, shoving him with

both hands.He laughed and stepped back. ‘Who are you?’‘I’m your girlfriend,’ she said. ‘Ask

anybody.’‘No … my girlfriend is sad and quiet and

keeps me up all night worrying about her.’‘Bummer. Sounds like you need a different

girlfriend.’He smiled and shook his head.It was cold and half dark, and Eleanor could

see Park’s breath. She resisted the urge to try toswallow it.

‘I told my mom that I was going to a friend’shouse after school …’ she said.

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‘Yeah?’Park was the only person she knew who wore

his backpack actually on his shoulders, not slungover one side – and he was always holding ontothe straps, like he’d just jumped out of a plane orsomething. It was extremely cute. Especiallywhen he was being shy and letting his head hangforward.

She pulled the front of his bangs. ‘Yeah.’‘Cool,’ he said, smiling, all shiny cheeks and

full lips.Don’t bite his face, Eleanor told herself. It’s

disturbing and needy and never happens in situ-ation comedies or movies that end with bigkisses.

‘I’m sorry about yesterday,’ she said.He hung onto his straps and shrugged.‘Yesterday happens.’God, it was like he wanted her to eat his face

clean off.

Park

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He almost told her all the things his mom hadsaid about her.

It seemed like it was wrong to keep secretsfrom Eleanor.

But it seemed like it would be more wrong toshare that kind of secret. It would just makeEleanor even more nervous. She might even re-fuse to come over …

And she was so happy today. She was a dif-ferent person. She kept squeezing his hand. Sheeven bit his shoulder when they were getting offthe bus.

Plus, if he told her, at the very least she wasgoing to want to go home and change. She waswearing an orange argyle sweater today, way toobig, with her silky green tie and baggy painter’sjeans.

Park didn’t know if Eleanor even had anygirl’s clothes – and he didn’t care. He kind ofliked that she didn’t. Maybe that was another gaything about him, but he didn’t think so, becauseEleanor wouldn’t look like a guy even if you cut

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off her hair and gave her a mustache. All themen’s clothes she wore just called attention tohow much of a girl she was.

He wasn’t going to tell her about his mom.And he wasn’t going to tell her to smile. But ifshe bit him again, he was going to losesomething.

‘Who are you?’ he asked, when she was stillsmiling in English class.

‘Ask anybody,’ she said.

Eleanor

In Spanish class today, they were supposed towrite a letter in Spanish to a friend. SeñoraBouzon put on an episode of Qué Pasa, USA?while they worked on it.

Eleanor tried to write a letter to Park. Shedidn’t get very far.

Estimado Señor Sheridan,Mi gusta comer su cara.Besos,

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Leonor

For the rest of the day, whenever Eleanor feltnervous or scared, she told herself to be happy in-stead. (It didn’t really make her feel better, but itkept her from feeling worse …)

She told herself that Park’s family must bedecent people because they’d raised a person likePark. Never mind that this principle didn’t holdtrue in her own family. It wasn’t like she had toface his family alone. Park would be there. Thatwas the whole point. Was there any place so hor-rible that she wouldn’t go there to be with Park?

She saw him after seventh hour in a placeshe’d never seen him before, carrying a micro-scope down the hall on the third floor. It was atleast twice as nice as seeing him somewhere sheexpected him to be.

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CHAPTER 28

Park

He called his mom during lunch to tell her thatEleanor was coming over. His counselor let himuse her phone. (Mrs Dunne loved the opportunityto be good in a crisis, so all Park had to do wasimply that it was an emergency.)

‘I just wanted to tell you that Eleanor is com-ing over after school,’ he told his mom. ‘Dad saidit was all right.’

‘Fine,’ his mother said, not even pretendingthat she was okay with it. ‘Is she staying fordinner?’

‘I don’t know,’ Park said. ‘Probably not.’His mother sighed.‘You have to be nice to her, you know.’

‘I’m nice to everybody,’ his mom said. ‘Youknow that.’

He could tell Eleanor was nervous on the bus.She was quiet, and she kept running her bottomlip through her teeth, making it go white, so thatyou could see that her lips had freckles, too.

Park tried to get her to talk about Watchmen;they’d just read the fourth chapter. ‘What do youthink of the pirate story?’ he asked.

‘What pirate story?’‘You know, there’s that character who’s al-

ways reading a comic book about pirates, thestory within the story, the pirate story.’

‘I always skip that part,’ she said.‘You skip it?’‘It’s boring. Blah, blah, blah – pirates! – blah,

blah, blah.’‘Nothing Alan Moore writes can be blah-

blah-blahed,’ Park said solemnly.Eleanor shrugged and bit her lip.‘I’m beginning to think you shouldn’t have

started reading comics with a book that

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completely deconstructs the last fifty years of thegenre,’ he said.

‘All I’m hearing is blah, blah, blah, genre.’The bus stopped near Eleanor’s house. She

looked at him.‘We may as well get off at my stop,’ Park

said, ‘right?’Eleanor shrugged again.They got off at his stop, along with Steve and

Tina and most of the people who sat at the backof the bus. All the back-of-the-bus kids hung outin Steve’s garage when he wasn’t at work, evenin winter.

Park and Eleanor trailed behind them.‘I’m sorry I look so stupid today,’ she said.‘You look like you always do,’ he said. Her

bag was hanging at the end of her arm. He triedto take it, but she pulled away.

‘I always look stupid?’‘That’s not what I meant …’‘It’s what you said,’ she muttered.

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He wanted to ask her not to be mad rightnow. Like, anytime but now. She could be mad athim for no reason all day tomorrow, if shewanted to.

‘You really know how to make a girl feelspecial,’ Eleanor said.

‘I’ve never pretended to know anything aboutgirls,’ he answered.

‘That’s not what I heard,’ she said. ‘I heardyou were allowed to have girl-zzz in your room…’

‘They were there,’ he said, ‘but I didn’t learnanything.’

They both stopped on his porch. He took herbag from her and tried not to look nervous.Eleanor was looking down the walk, like shemight bolt.

‘I meant that you don’t look any differentthan you usually look,’ he said softly, just in casehis mom was standing on the other side of thedoor. ‘And you always look nice.’

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‘I never look nice,’ she said. Like he was anidiot.

‘I like the way you look,’ he said. It came outmore like an argument than a compliment.

‘That doesn’t mean it’s nice.’ She was whis-pering, too.

‘Fine then, you look like a hobo.’‘A hobo?’ Her eyes lit.‘Yeah, a gypsy hobo,’ he said. ‘You look like

you just joined the cast of Godspell.’‘I don’t even know what that is.’‘It’s terrible.’She stepped closer to him. ‘I look like a

hobo?’‘Worse,’ he said. ‘Like a sad hobo clown.’‘And you like it?’‘I love it.’As soon as he said it, she broke into a smile.

And when Eleanor smiled, something broke in-side of him.

Something always did.

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Eleanor

It was probably a good thing that Park’s momopened the door when she did because Eleanorwas thinking about kissing him, and no way wasthat a good idea – Eleanor didn’t know the firstthing about kissing.

Of course, she’d watched a million kisses onTV (thank you, Fonzie), but TV never showedyou the mechanics of it. If Eleanor tried to kissPark, it would be like a real-life version of somelittle girl making her Barbie kiss Ken. Justsmashing their faces together.

Besides, if Park’s mom had opened the doorright in the middle of a big, awkward kiss, she’dhate Eleanor even more.

Park’s mom did hate her, you could tell. Ormaybe she just hated the idea of Eleanor, of a girlseducing her firstborn son right in her own livingroom.

Eleanor followed Park in and sat down. Shetried to look extra polite. When his mom offeredthem a snack, Eleanor said, ‘That would be great,

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thank you.’ His mom was looking at Eleanor likeshe was something somebody had spilled on thebaby-blue couch. She brought out cookies, thenleft them alone.

Park seemed so happy. Eleanor tried to con-centrate on how nice it was to be with him – butit was taking too much of her concentration, justkeeping herself together.

It was the little things about Park’s house thatreally freaked her out. Like all the glass grapeshanging from everything. And the curtains thatmatched the sofa that matched the little doily-napkins under the lamps.

You’d think that nobody interesting couldgrow up in a house as nice and boring as this one– but Park was the smartest, funniest guy she’dever met, and this was his home planet.

Eleanor wanted to feel superior to Park’smom and her Avon-lady house. But, instead, shekept thinking about how nice it must be to live ina house like this one. With your own room. And

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your own parents. And six different kinds ofcookies in the cupboard.

Park

Eleanor was right. She never looked nice. Shelooked like art, and art wasn’t supposed to looknice; it was supposed to make you feelsomething.

Eleanor sitting next to him on the couch madePark feel like someone had opened a window inthe middle of the room. Like someone had re-placed all the air in the room with brand new, im-proved air (now with twice the freshness).

Eleanor made him feel like something washappening. Even when they were just sitting onthe couch.

She wouldn’t let him hold her hand, not in hishouse, and she wouldn’t stay for dinner. But sheagreed to come back tomorrow – if his parentssaid it was okay, which they did.

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His mom was being perfectly nice so far. Shewasn’t turning on the charm, like she did for herclients and the neighbors, but she wasn’t beingrude either. And if she wanted to hide in the kit-chen every time Eleanor came over, Parkthought, that was her prerogative.

Eleanor came over again on Thursday after-noon and Friday. And on Saturday, while theywere playing Nintendo with Josh, his dad askedher to stay for dinner.

Park couldn’t believe it when she said yes.His dad put the leaf into the dining room table,and Eleanor sat right next to Park. She wasnervous, he could tell. She barely touched hersloppy joe, and after a while her smile started togo all grimacey around the edges.

After dinner, they all watched Back to the Fu-ture on HBO, and his mom made popcorn. Elean-or sat with Park on the floor, leaning against thecouch, and when he surreptitiously took herhand, she didn’t pull away. He rubbed the inside

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of her palm because he knew she liked it. It madeher eyelids dip like she was going to fall asleep.

When the movie was over, Park’s dad in-sisted that Park walk Eleanor home.

‘Thanks for having me, Mr Sheridan,’ shesaid. ‘And thank you for dinner, Mrs Sheridan. Itwas delicious, I had a great time.’ She didn’teven sound like she was being sarcastic.

When they got to the door, she called back,‘Good night!’

Park closed the door behind them. You couldalmost see all the nervous niceness draining outof Eleanor. He wanted to hug her, to help wring itout.

‘You can’t walk me home,’ she said with herusual edge, ‘you know that, right?’

‘I know. But I can walk you partway.’‘I don’t know …’‘Come on,’ he said, ‘it’s dark. No one will

see us.’‘Okay,’ she said, but she put her hands in her

pockets. They both walked slowly.

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‘Your family is really great,’ she said after aminute. ‘Really.’

He took her arm. ‘Hey, I want to show yousomething.’ He pulled her into the next driveway,between a pine tree and an RV.

‘Park, this is trespassing.’‘It’s not. My grandparents live here.’‘What do you want to show me?’‘Nothing, really, I just want to be alone with

you for a minute.’He pulled her to the back of the driveway,

where they were almost completely hidden by aline of trees and the RV and the garage.

‘Seriously?’ she said. ‘That was so lame.’‘I know,’ he said, turning to her. ‘Next time,

I’ll just say, “Eleanor, follow me down this darkalley, I want to kiss you.”’

She didn’t roll her eyes. She took a breath,then closed her mouth. He was learning how tocatch her off guard.

She pushed her hands deeper in her pockets,so he put his hands on her elbows instead. ‘Next

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time,’ he said, ‘I’ll just say, “Eleanor, duck be-hind these bushes with me, I’m going to lose mymind if I don’t kiss you.”’

She didn’t move, so he thought it was prob-ably okay to touch her face. Her skin was as softas it looked, white and smooth as freckledporcelain.

‘I’ll just say, “Eleanor, follow me down thisrabbit hole …”’

He laid his thumb on her lips to see if she’dpull away. She didn’t. He leaned closer. Hewanted to close his eyes, but he didn’t trust hernot to leave him standing there.

When his lips were almost touching hers, sheshook her head. Her nose rubbed against his.

‘I’ve never done this before,’ she said.‘S’okay,’ he said.‘It’s not, it’s going to be terrible.’He shook his head. ‘It’s not.’She shook her head a little more. Just a little.

‘You’re going to regret this,’ she said.

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That made him laugh, so he had to wait asecond before he kissed her.

It wasn’t terrible. Eleanor’s lips were soft andwarm, and he could feel her pulse in her cheek. Itwas good that she was so nervous – because itforced him not to be. It steadied him to feel hertrembling.

He pulled away before he wanted to. Hehadn’t done this enough to know how to breathe.

When he pulled away, her eyes were mostlyclosed. His grandparents had a light on, on theirfront porch, and Eleanor’s face caught every bitof it. She looked like she should be married to theman in the moon.

Her face dropped after a second, and he lethis hand fall to her shoulder.

‘Okay?’ he whispered.She nodded. He pulled her closer and kissed

the top her head. He tried to find her ear under allthat hair.

‘Come here,’ he said, ‘I want to show yousomething.’

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She laughed. He lifted her chin.The second time was even less terrible.

Eleanor

They walked together from his grandparents’driveway to the alley, then Park waited there inthe shadows and watched Eleanor walk homealone.

She told herself not to look back.

Richie was home, and everybody except hermom was watching TV. It wasn’t that late;Eleanor tried to act like there was nothing strangeabout her coming home in the dark.

‘Where have you been?’ Richie said.‘At a friend’s house.’‘What friend?’‘I told you, honey,’ her mom said, stepping

into the room, drying a pan. ‘Eleanor has a girl-friend in the neighborhood. Lisa.’

‘Tina,’ Eleanor said.

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‘Girlfriend, huh?’ Richie said. ‘Giving up onmen already?’ He thought that was pretty funny.

Eleanor went into the bedroom and closed thedoor. She didn’t turn on the light. She climbedinto bed in her street clothes, opened the curtainsand wiped the condensation off the window. Shecouldn’t see the alley or anything movingoutside.

The window fogged over again. Eleanorclosed her eyes and laid her forehead against theglass.

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CHAPTER 29

Eleanor

When she saw Park standing at the bus stop onMonday morning, she started giggling. Seriously,giggling like a cartoon character … when theircheeks get all red, and little hearts start poppingout of their ears …

It was ridiculous.

Park

When he saw Eleanor walking toward him onMonday morning, Park wanted to run to her andsweep her up in his arms. Like some guy in thesoap operas his mom watched. He hung onto hisbackpack to hold himself back …

It was kind of wonderful.

Eleanor

Park was just her height, but he seemed taller.

Park

Eleanor’s eyelashes were the same color as herfreckles.

Eleanor

They talked about The White Album on the wayto school, but just as an excuse to stare at eachother’s mouths. You’d think they were lip-reading.

Maybe that’s why Park kept laughing, evenwhen they were talking about ‘Helter Skelter’ –which wasn’t the Beatles’ funniest song, even be-fore Charles Manson got a hold of it.

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CHAPTER 30

Park

‘Hey,’ Cal said, taking a bite out of his Rib-a-Que sandwich. ‘You should come to the basket-ball game with us Thursday. And don’t even tryto tell me you don’t like basketball, Spud.’

‘I don’t know …’‘Kim’s going to be there.’Park groaned. ‘Cal …’‘Sitting next to me,’ Cal said. ‘Because we’re

totally going out.’‘Wait, seriously?’ Park covered his mouth to

keep a chunk of sandwich from flying out. ‘Arewe talking about the same Kim?’

‘Is that so hard to believe?’ Cal opened hiscarton of milk completely and drank out of it likea cup. ‘She wasn’t even into you, you know. She

was just bored, and she thought you were myster-ious and quiet – like, “still waters run deep.” Itold her that sometimes still waters just run still.’

‘Thanks.’‘But she’s totally into me now, so you can

hang out with us if you want. The basketballgames are a blast. They sell nachos andeverything.’

‘I’ll think about it,’ Park said.He wasn’t going to think about it. He wasn’t

going anywhere without Eleanor. And she didn’tseem like the basketball game type.

Eleanor

‘Hey, girl,’ DeNice said after gym class. Theywere in the locker room, changing back into theirstreet clothes. ‘So I’ve been thinking, you’ve gotto go to Sprite Nite with us this week. Jonesy’sgot his car fixed, and he’s got this Thursday off.We are going to do it right, right, right, allthrough the night, night, night.’

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‘You know I’m not allowed to go out,’ Elean-or said.

‘I know that you’re not allowed to go to yourboyfriend’s house either,’ DeNice said.

‘I heard that,’ Beebi said.Eleanor should never have told them about

Park’s house, but she’d been dying to tell some-body. (This was how people ended up in jail aftercommitting the perfect crime.) ‘Keep it down,’she said. ‘God.’

‘You should come,’ Beebi said. Her face wasperfectly round, with dimples so deep that whenshe smiled she looked tufted, like a cushion. ‘Wehave so much fun. I’ll bet you’ve never evenbeen dancing before.’

‘I don’t know …’ Eleanor said.‘Is this about your man?’ DeNice asked. ‘Be-

cause he can come, too. He don’t take up muchspace.’

Beebi giggled, so Eleanor giggled, too. Shecouldn’t imagine Park dancing. He’d probably be

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really good at it, if all the Top 40 music didn’tmake his ears bleed. He was good at everything.

Still … She couldn’t imagine the two of themgoing out with DeNice or Beebi. Or anybody.Thinking about going out with Park, in public,was kind of like thinking about taking your hel-met off in space.

Park

His mom said that if they were going to hang outevery night after school, which they definitelywere, they had to start doing homework.

‘She’s probably right,’ Eleanor said on thebus. ‘I’ve been faking it in English all week.’

‘You were faking it today? Seriously? Itdidn’t sound like it.’

‘We did Shakespeare last year at my oldschool … But I can’t fake it in math. I can’t even… what’s the opposite of faking it?’

‘I can help you with your math, you know.I’m already through algebra.’

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‘Gosh, Wally, that’d be dreamy.’‘Or not,’ he said. ‘I could not help you with

your math.’Even her mean, smirky smile made him

crazy.

They tried to study in the living room, but Joshwanted to watch TV, so they took their stuff intothe kitchen.

His mom said it was okay; then said she hadstuff to do in the garage. Whatever.

Eleanor moved her lips when she read …Park kicked her gently under the table, and

threw crumpled-up pieces of paper into her hair.They were almost never alone, and now that theyalmost-practically were, he felt kind of frantic forher attention.

He flipped her algebra book closed with hispen.

‘Seriously?’ She tried to open it again.‘No,’ he said, pulling it toward him.‘I thought we were studying.’‘I know,’ he said, ‘I just … we’re alone.’

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‘Sort of …’‘So we should be doing alone things.’‘You sound so creepy right now …’‘I meant talking.’ He wasn’t sure what he

meant. He looked down at the table. Eleanor’s al-gebra book was covered with her handwriting,the lyrics to one song wrapped and coiled aroundthe title of another. He saw his name written intiny cursive letters – your own name alwaysstands out – and hidden in the chorus of a Smithssong.

He felt himself grin.‘What?’ Eleanor asked.‘Nothing.’‘What.’He looked back at the book. He was going to

think about this later, after she went home. Hewas going to think about Eleanor sitting in class,thinking about him, carefully writing his namesomeplace she thought only she would see.

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And then he noticed something else. Writtenjust as small, just as carefully, in all lowercaseletters. ‘i know your a slut you smell like cum.’

‘What,’ Eleanor said, trying to pull the bookaway. Park held onto it. He felt the Bruce Bannerblood rushing to his face.

‘Why didn’t you tell me that this was stillhappening?’

‘That what was still happening?’He didn’t want to say it, he didn’t want to

point to it. He didn’t want their eyes on thosewords together.

‘This,’ he said, waving his hand over thewords.

She looked – and immediately started scrub-bing the bad writing out with her pen. Her facewas skim milk, and her neck went red andblotchy.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ he said.‘I didn’t know it was there.’‘I thought this had stopped.’‘Why would you think that?’

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Why had he thought that? Because she waswith him now?

‘I just … why didn’t you tell me about this?’‘Why would I tell you?’ she asked. ‘It’s gross

and embarrassing.’She was still scribbling. He put his hand over

her wrist. ‘Maybe I could help.’‘Help how?’ She shoved the book toward

him. ‘Do you want to kick it?’He clenched his teeth. She took the book

back and put it in her bag.‘Do you know who’s doing it?’ he asked.‘Are you going to kick them?’‘Maybe …’‘Well …’ she said, ‘I’ve narrowed it down to

people who don’t like me …’‘It couldn’t be just anyone. It would have to

be somebody who could get to your bookswithout you knowing about it.’

Ten seconds ago, Eleanor had looked mean asa cat. Now she looked resigned, slumped over thetable with her fingertips at her temples.

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‘I don’t know …’ She shook her head. ‘Itseems like it always happens on gym days.’

‘Do you leave your books in the lockerroom?’

She rubbed her eyes with both hands. ‘I feellike now you’re intentionally asking me stupidquestions. You’re like the worst detective ever.’

‘Who doesn’t like you in gym class?’‘Ha.’ She was still covering her face. ‘Who

doesn’t like me in gym class.’‘You need to take this seriously,’ he said.‘No,’ she said firmly, squeezing her hands in-

to fists, ‘this is exactly the sort of thing Ishouldn’t take seriously. That’s exactly whatTina and her henchgirls want me to do. If theythink they’re getting to me? They’ll never leaveme alone.’

‘What does Tina have to do with this?’‘Tina is the queen of the people in my gym

class who don’t like me.’‘Tina would never do anything this bad.’

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Eleanor looked hard at him. ‘Are you kid-ding? Tina’s a monster. She’s what would hap-pen if the devil married the wicked witch, andthey rolled their baby in a bowl of chopped evil.’

Park thought of the Tina who sold him out inthe garage and made fun of people on the bus …But then he thought of all the times that Stevehad gone after Park, and Tina had pulled himback.

‘I’ve known Tina since we were kids,’ hesaid. ‘She’s not that bad. We used to be friends.’

‘You don’t act like friends.’‘Well, she’s dating Steve now.’‘Why does that matter?’Park couldn’t think of how to answer.‘Why does it matter?’ Eleanor’s eyes were

dark slits in her face. If he lied to her about this,she’d never forgive him.

‘None of it matters now,’ he said. ‘It’s stupid… Tina and I went together in the sixth grade.Not that we ever went anywhere or did anything.’

‘Tina? You went with Tina?’

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‘It was the sixth grade. It was nothing.’‘But you were boyfriend and girlfriend? Did

you hold hands?’‘I don’t remember.’‘Did you kiss her?’‘None of this matters.’But it did. Because it was making Eleanor

look at him like he was a stranger. It was makinghim feel like a stranger. He knew that Tina had amean streak, but he also knew that she wouldn’tgo this far.

What did he know about Eleanor? Not much.It was like she didn’t want him to know her bet-ter. He felt everything for Eleanor, but what didhe really know?

‘You always write in lowercase letters …’Saying this out loud seemed like a good idea onlyfor as long as the words were on his tongue, buthe kept talking. ‘Did you write those thingsyourself?’

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Eleanor paled from pale to ashen. It was likeall the blood in her body rushed to her heart, allat once. Her speckled lips hung open.

Then she snapped out of it. She started stack-ing her books.

‘If I were going to write a note to myself,calling myself a dirty slut,’ she said it matter-of-factly, ‘you’re right, I might not use capital let-ters. But I would definitely use an apostrophe …and probably a period. I’m a huge fan ofpunctuation.’

‘What are you doing?’ he asked.She shook her head and stood up. He couldn’t

for the life of him think of how to stop her.‘I don’t know who’s been writing on my

books,’ she said coolly. ‘But I think we justsolved the mystery of why Tina hates me somuch.’

‘Eleanor …’‘No,’ she said, her voice catching. ‘I don’t

want to talk anymore.’

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She walked out of the kitchen, just as Park’smom was coming in from garage. His momlooked at Park with a face he was beginning torecognize. What do you see in this weird whitegirl?

Park

That night, Park lay in bed thinking about Elean-or thinking about him, writing his name on herbook.

She’d probably already scribbled that out,too.

He tried to think about why he’d defendedTina.

Why did it matter to him whether Tina wasgood or bad? Eleanor was right, he and Tina wer-en’t friends. They weren’t anything like friends.They hadn’t even been friends in the sixth grade.

Tina had asked Park to go with her, and Parkhad said yes – because everybody knew that Tinawas the most popular girl in class. Going with

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Tina was such powerful social currency, Parkwas still spending it.

Being Tina’s first boyfriend kept Park out ofthe lowest neighborhood caste. Even though theyall thought Park was weird and yellow, eventhough he had never fit in … They couldn’t callhim a freak or a chink or a fag because – wellfirst, because his dad was a giant and a veteranand from the neighborhood. But second, becausewhat would that say about Tina?

And Tina had never turned on Park or preten-ded he didn’t happen. In fact … Well. Therewere times when he thought she wantedsomething to happen between them again.

Like, a few times, she’d come over to Park’shouse on the wrong day for her hair appointment– and ended up in Park’s room, trying to findsomething for them to talk about.

On homecoming night, when she came overto have her hair put up, she’d stopped in Park’sroom to ask what he thought of her strapless blue

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dress. She’d had him untangle her necklace fromthe hair at the back of her neck.

Park always let these opportunities pass likehe didn’t see them.

Steve would kill him if he hooked up withTina.

Plus, Park didn’t want to hook up with Tina.They didn’t have anything in common – like,nothing – and it wasn’t the kind of nothing thatcan be exotic and exciting. It was just boring.

He didn’t even think Tina really liked him,deep down. It was more like she didn’t want himto get over her. And not-so-deep down, Parkdidn’t want Tina to get over him.

It was nice to have the most popular girl inthe neighborhood offering herself to him everynow and then.

Park rolled onto his stomach and pushed hisface into his pillow. He’d thought he was overcaring what people thought about him. He’dthought that loving Eleanor proved that.

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But he kept finding new pockets of shallowinside himself. He kept finding new ways to be-tray her.

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CHAPTER 31

Eleanor

There was just one more day of school left beforeChristmas vacation. Eleanor didn’t go. She toldher mother she was sick.

Park

When he got to the bus stop Friday morning,Park was ready to apologize. But Eleanor didn’tshow up. Which made him feel a lot less likeapologizing …

‘What now?’ he said in the direction of herhouse. Were they supposed to break up over this?Was she going to go three weeks without talkingto him?

He knew it wasn’t Eleanor’s fault that shedidn’t have a phone, and that her house was theFortress of Solitude, but … Jesus. It made it soeasy for her to cut herself off whenever she feltlike it.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said at her house, too loudly.A dog started barking in the yard next to him.‘Sorry,’ Park muttered to the dog.

The bus turned the corner and heaved to astop. Park could see Tina in the back window,watching him.

I’m sorry, he thought, not looking back again.

Eleanor

With Richie at work all day, she didn’t have tostay in her room, but she did anyway. Like a dogwho won’t leave its kennel.

She ran out of batteries. She ran out of thingsto read …

She lay in bed so much, she actually feltdizzy when she got up Sunday afternoon to eat

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dinner. (Her mom said Eleanor had to come outof her crypt if she was hungry.) Eleanor sat onthe living room floor next to Mouse.

‘Why are you crying?’ he asked. He washolding a bean burrito and it was dripping ontohis T-shirt and the floor.

‘I’m not,’ she said.Mouse held the burrito over his head and

tried to catch the leak with his mouth. ‘Yeh ooare.’

Maisie looked up at Eleanor, then back at theTV.

‘Is it because you hate Dad?’ Mouse asked.‘Yes,’ Eleanor said.‘Eleanor,’ her mother said, walking out of the

kitchen.‘No,’ Eleanor said to Mouse, shaking her

head. ‘I told you, I’m not crying.’ She went backto her room and climbed into bed, rubbing herface in the pillow.

Nobody followed her to see what was wrong.

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Maybe her mom realized that she’d prettymuch forfeited the right to ask questions for alleternity when she dumped Eleanor at somebody’shouse for a year.

Or maybe just she didn’t care.Eleanor rolled onto her back and picked up

her dead Walkman. She took out the tape andheld it up to the light, turning the reels with herfingertip and looking at Park’s handwriting onthe label.

‘Never mind the Sex Pistols … Songs Elean-or might like.’

Park thought she’d written those awful thingson her books herself.

And he’d taken Tina’s side against hers.Tina’s.

She closed her eyes again and rememberedthe first time that he kissed her … How she’d lether neck bend back, how she’d opened hermouth. How she’d believed him when he said shewas special.

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Park

A week into break, his dad asked Park if he andEleanor had broken up.

‘Sort of,’ Park said.‘That’s too bad,’ his dad said.‘It is?’‘Well, it must be. You’re acting like a four-

year-old lost at Kmart …Park sighed.‘Can’t you get her back?’ his dad asked‘I can’t even get her to talk to me.’‘It’s too bad you can’t talk to your mother

about this. The only way I know how to land agirl is to look sharp in a uniform.’

Eleanor

A week into break, Eleanor’s mom woke her upbefore sunrise. ‘Do you want to walk to the storewith me?’

‘No,’ Eleanor said.‘Come on, I could use the extra hands.’

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Her mom walked fast, and she had long legs.Eleanor had to take extra steps just to keep up.‘It’s cold,’ she said.

‘I told you to wear a hat.’ Her mom had toldher to wear socks, too, but they looked ridiculouswith Eleanor’s Vans.

It was a forty-minute walk.When they got to the grocery store, her mom

bought them each a day-old cream horn and acup of twenty-five-cent coffee. Eleanor dumpedCoffee-Mate and Sweet’N Low in hers, and fol-lowed her mom to the bargain bin. Her mom hadthis thing about being the first person to gothrough all the smashed cereal boxes and dentedcans …

Afterward, they walked to the Goodwill, andEleanor found a stack of old Analog magazinesand settled in on the least disgusting couch in thefurniture section.

When it was time to go, her mom came upfrom behind her with an incredibly ugly stockingcap and pulled it over her head.

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‘Great,’ Eleanor said, ‘now I have lice.’She felt better on the way home. (Which was

probably the point of this whole field trip.) It wasstill cold, but the sun was shining, and her momwas humming that Joni Mitchell song aboutclouds and circuses.

Eleanor almost told her everything.About Park and Tina and the bus and the

fight, about the place between his grandparents’house and the RV.

She felt it all right at the back of her throat,like a bomb – or a tiger – sitting on the base ofher tongue. Keeping it in made her eyes water.

The plastic shopping bags were cutting intoher palms. Eleanor shook her head andswallowed.

Park

Park rode his bike by her house over and overone day until her stepdad’s truck was gone and

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one of the other kids came outside to play in thesnow.

It was the older boy, Park couldn’t rememberhis name. The kid scuttled up the steps nervouslywhen Park stopped in front of the house.

‘Hey, wait,’ Park said, ‘please, hey … is yoursister home?’

‘Maisie?’‘No, Eleanor …’‘I’m not telling you,’ the boy said, running

into the house.Park jerked his bike forward and pedaled

away.

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CHAPTER 32

Eleanor

The box of pineapple arrived on Christmas Eve.You’d have thought Santa Claus had shown up inperson with a bag of toys for each of them.

Maisie and Ben were already fighting overthe box. Maisie wanted it for her Barbies. Bendidn’t have anything to put in it, but Eleanor stillhoped he’d win.

Ben had just turned twelve, and Richie saidhe was too old to share a room with girls and ba-bies. Richie had brought home a mattress and putit in the basement, and now Ben had to sleepdown there with the dog and Richie’s freeweights.

In their old house, Ben wouldn’t even godown to the basement to put clothes in the wash –

and that basement had at least been dry andmostly finished. Ben was scared of mice and batsand spiders and anything that started movingwhen the lights went out. Richie had alreadyyelled at him, twice, for trying to sleep at the topof the stairs.

The pineapple came with a letter from theiruncle and his wife. Eleanor’s mom read it first,and it made her get all teary. ‘Oh, Eleanor,’ shesaid excitedly, ‘Geoff wants you to come up forthe summer. He says there’s a program at his uni-versity, a camp for gifted high school students…’

Before Eleanor could even think about whatthat meant – St Paul, a camp where nobody knewher, where nobody was Park – Richie was shoot-ing it down.

‘You can’t send her up to Minnesota byherself.’

‘My brother’s there.’‘What does he know about teenage girls?’‘You know I lived with him in high school.’

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‘Yeah, and he let you get pregnant …’Ben was lying solidly on top of the pineapple

box, and Maisie was kicking him in the back.They were both shouting.

‘It’s just a fucking box,’ Richie yelled. ‘If Iknew that you wanted boxes for Christmas, Iwould have saved myself some money.’

That silenced everyone. Nobody had expec-ted Richie to buy Christmas presents. ‘I shouldmake you wait until Christmas morning,’ he said,‘but I’m sick of watching this.’

He put his cigarette in his mouth and put hisboots on. They heard the truck door open, andthen Richie was back with a big ShopKo bag. Hestarted throwing boxes onto the floor.

‘Mouse,’ he said. A remote-control monstertruck.

‘Ben.’ A big racetrack.‘Maisie … cause you like to sing.’ Richie

pulled out a keyboard, an actual electronic key-board. It was probably some off-brand, but still.

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He didn’t drop it on the floor. He handed it toMaisie.

‘And Little Richie … where’s Little Richie?’‘He’s taking a nap,’ their mom said.Richie shrugged and threw a teddy bear onto

the floor. The bag was empty, and Eleanor feltcold with relief.

Then Richie took out his wallet and pulledout a bill.

‘Here, Eleanor, come get it. Buy yourselfsome normal clothes.’

She looked at her mother, standing blank-faced in the kitchen doorway, then walked overto take the money. It was a fifty.

‘Thank you.’ Eleanor said it as flatly as pos-sible. Then she went to sit on the couch. The littlekids were all opening their presents.

‘Thanks, Dad,’ Mouse kept saying. ‘Oh man,thanks, Dad!’

‘Yeah,’ Richie said, ‘you’re welcome. You’rewelcome. That’s a real Christmas.’

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Richie stayed home all day to watch the littlekids play with their toys. Maybe the Broken Railwasn’t open on Christmas Eve. Eleanor went toher bedroom to get away from him. (And to getaway from Maisie’s new keyboard.)

She was tired of missing Park. She justwanted to see him. Even if he did think she was aperverted psychopath who wrote herself badlypunctuated threats. Even if he had spent hisformative years tongue-kissing Tina. None of itwas vile enough to make Eleanor stop wantinghim. (How vile would that have to be? shewondered.)

Maybe she should just go over to his houseright now and pretend that nothing had happened.Maybe she would, if it wasn’t Christmas Eve.Why didn’t Jesus ever work with her?

Later, her mom came in to say they were going tothe store to buy groceries for Christmas dinner.

‘I’ll come out and watch the kids,’ Eleanorsaid.

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‘Richie wants us all to go,’ her mom said,smiling, ‘as a family.’

‘But, Mom …’‘None of this, Eleanor,’ she said softly,

‘we’re having a good day.’‘Mom, come on – he’s been drinking all day.’Her mom shook her head. ‘Richie’s fine, he

never has a problem with driving.’‘I don’t think the fact that he drinks and

drives all the time is a very good argument.’‘You just can’t stand this, can you?’ her mom

said quietly, angrily, stepping into the room andshutting the door behind her.

‘Look,’ she said, ‘I know that you’re goingthrough …’ She looked at Eleanor, then shookher head again. ‘Something. But everyone else inthis house is having a great day. Everyone else inthis house deserves a great day.

‘We’re a family, Eleanor. All of us. Richie,too. And I’m sorry that makes you so unhappy.I’m sorry that things aren’t perfect here all thetime for you … But this is our life now. You

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can’t keep throwing tantrums about it, you can’tkeep trying to undermine this family – I won’t letyou.’

Eleanor clenched her jaw.‘I have to think of everyone,’ her mom said.

‘Do you understand? I have to think of myself. Ina few years, you’ll be on your own, but Richie ismy husband.’

She almost sounded sane, Eleanor thought. Ifyou didn’t know that she was acting rational onthe far side of crazy.

‘Get up,’ her mother said, ‘and put on yourcoat.’

Eleanor put on her coat and her new hat andfollowed her brothers and sisters into the back ofthe Isuzu.

When they got to Food 4 Less, Richie waitedin the truck while everybody else went in. Assoon as they were inside, Eleanor put thewadded-up fifty in her mother’s hand.

Her mother didn’t thank her.

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Park

They were shopping for Christmas dinner, and itwas taking forever because it always made Park’smom nervous to cook for his grandmother.

‘What kind of stuffing Grandma like?’ hismom asked.

‘Pepperidge Farm,’ Park said, standing on theback of the cart and popping a wheelie.

‘Pepperidge Farm original? Or PepperidgeFarm cornbread?’

‘I don’t know, original.’‘If you don’t know, don’t tell me … Look,’

she said, looking over his shoulder. ‘There’s yourEleanor.’

El-la-no.Park whipped around and saw Eleanor stand-

ing by the meat case with all four of her red-headed brothers and sisters. (Except none of themhad red hair standing next to Eleanor. Nobodydid.)

A woman walked up to the cart and set downa turkey.

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That must be Eleanor’s mom, Park thought,she looked just like her. But sharper and withmore shadows. Like Eleanor, but taller. LikeEleanor, but tired. Like Eleanor, after the fall.

Park’s mom was staring at them, too.‘Mom, come on,’ Park whispered.‘Aren’t you going to say hi?’ she asked.Park shook his head, but didn’t turn away. He

didn’t think Eleanor would want him to, and evenif she did, he didn’t want to get her in trouble.What if her stepdad was here, too?

Eleanor looked different, drabber than usual.There was nothing hanging from her hair ormagpie-tied to her wrists …

She still looked beautiful. His eyes missedher as much as the rest of him. He wanted to runto her and tell her – tell her how sorry he was andhow much he needed her.

She didn’t see him.‘Mom,’ he whispered again, ‘come on.’

Park thought his mom might say something moreabout it in the car, but she was quiet. When they

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got home, she said she was tired. She asked Parkto bring in the groceries, then she spent the restof the afternoon in her room with the door closed.

His dad went in to check on her at dinnertime, and an hour later, when they both came out,his dad said they were going to Pizza Hut for din-ner. ‘On Christmas Eve?’ Josh said. They alwayshad waffles and watched movies on ChristmasEve. They’d already rented Billy Jack. ‘Get in thecar,’ his dad said. Park’s mom’s eyes were red,and she didn’t bother reapplying her eye makeupbefore they left.

When they got home, Park went straight tohis room. He just wanted to be alone to thinkabout seeing Eleanor – but his mom came in afew minutes later. She sat on his bed withoutmaking a single wave.

She held out a Christmas present. ‘This … isfor your Eleanor,’ she said. ‘From me.’

Park looked at the gift. He took it, but shookhis head.

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‘I don’t know if I’ll have a chance to give itto her.’

‘Your Eleanor,’ she said, ‘she come from bigfamily.’

Park shook the present gently.‘I come from big family,’ his mom said.

‘Three little sisters. Three little brothers.’ Sheheld out her hand, as if she were patting sixheads.

She’d had a wine cooler with dinner, and youcould tell. She almost never talked about Korea.

‘What were their names?’ Park asked.His mom’s hand settled gently in her lap.‘In big family,’ she said, ‘everything …

everybody spread so thin. Thin like paper, youknow?’ She made a tearing gesture. ‘You know?’

Maybe two wine coolers.‘I’m not sure,’ Park said.‘Nobody gets enough,’ she said. ‘Nobody

gets what they need. When you always hungry,you get hungry in your head.’ She tapped herforehead. ‘You know?’

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Park wasn’t sure what to say.‘You don’t know,’ she said, shaking her head.

‘I don’t want you to know … I’m sorry.’‘Don’t be sorry,’ he said.‘I’m sorry for how I welcomed your Eleanor.’‘Mom, it’s okay. This isn’t your fault.’‘I don’t think I say this right …’‘It’s okay, Mindy,’ Park’s dad said softly

from the doorway. ‘Come to bed, honey.’ Hewalked over to the bed and helped Park’s momup, then stood with his arm wrapped protectivelyaround her. ‘Your mom just wants you to behappy,’ he said to Park. ‘Don’t puss out on ouraccount.’

His mother frowned, like she wasn’t surewhether that counted as a dirty word.

Park waited until the TV was off in his parents’room. Then he waited a half-hour after that. Thenhe grabbed his coat and slipped out the backdoor, on the far side of the house.

He ran until he got to the end of the alley.Eleanor was so close.

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Her stepdad’s truck was in the driveway.Maybe that was good; Park wouldn’t want himcoming home while Park was standing there onthe front porch. All the lights were off, as far asPark could tell, and there was no sign of the dog…

He climbed the steps as quietly as possible.He knew which room was Eleanor’s. She’d

told him once that she slept by the window, andhe knew she had the top bunk. He stood to theside of the window, so he wouldn’t cast a shad-ow. He was going to tap softly, and if anyone butEleanor looked out, he was going to run for hislife.

Park tapped the top of the glass. Nothinghappened. The curtain, or the sheet or whatever itwas, didn’t move.

She was probably sleeping. He tapped a littleharder and got ready to run. The side of the sheetopened just a sliver, but he couldn’t see in.

Should he run? Should he hide?

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He stepped in front of the window. The sheetopened wider. He could see Eleanor’s face, shelooked terrified.

‘Go,’ she mouthed.He shook his head.‘Go,’ she mouthed again. Then she pointed

away. ‘School,’ she said. At least that’s what hethought she said. Park ran away.

Eleanor

All Eleanor could think was that if somebodywere breaking in through this window, how wasshe supposed to escape and call 911?

Not that the police would even come after lasttime. But at least she could wake that bastard Gilup and eat his goddamn brownies.

Park was the last person she expected to seestanding there.

Her heart leapt out to him before she couldstop it. He was going to get them both killed.Shots had been fired for less.

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As soon as he disappeared from the window,she slipped off the bed like that stupid cat and puther bra and shoes on in the dark. She was wear-ing a great big T-shirt and a pair of her dad’s oldflannel pajama pants. Her coat was in the livingroom, so she put on a sweater.

Maisie had fallen asleep watching TV, so itwas relatively easy to climb over her empty bedand out the window.

He’ll kick me out for real this time, Eleanorthought, tiptoeing across the porch. That wouldbe his best Christmas ever.

Park was waiting on the school steps. Wherethey’d sat and read Watchmen. As soon as he sawher, he stood up and ran to her. Like, actuallyran.

He ran to her – and took her face in both ofhis hands. And then he was kissing her before shecould say no. And she was kissing him back be-fore she could remind herself that she wasn’t evergoing to kiss anybody again, especially not him,because look how miserable it had made her.

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She was crying, and so was Park. When sheput her hands on his cheeks, they were wet.

And warm. He was so warm.She bent her neck back and kissed him like

she never had before. Like she wasn’t scared ofdoing it wrong.

He pulled away to say he was sorry, and sheshook her head no, because even though shereally did want him to be sorry, she wanted tokiss him more.

‘I’m sorry, Eleanor.’ He held her face againsthis. ‘I was wrong about everything. Everything.’

‘I’m sorry, too,’ she said.‘For what?’‘For acting mad at you all the time.’‘It’s okay,’ he said, ‘sometimes I like it.’‘But not always.’He shook his head.‘I don’t even know why I do it,’ she said.‘It doesn’t matter.’‘I’m not sorry about getting mad about Tina.’

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He pressed his forehead against hers until ithurt. ‘Don’t even say her name,’ he said. ‘She’snothing and you’re … everything. You’reeverything, Eleanor.’

He kissed her again, and she opened hermouth.

They stayed outside until Park couldn’t rub anywarmth back into her hands. Until her lips werenumb from cold and kissing.

He wanted to walk her back home, but shetold him that would be suicidal.

‘Come see me tomorrow,’ he said.‘I can’t, it’s Christmas.’‘The next day, then.’‘The next day,’ she said.‘And the day after that.’She laughed. ‘I don’t think your mom would

like that. I don’t think she likes me.’‘You’re wrong,’ he said. ‘Come.’Eleanor was climbing the front steps when

she heard him whispering her name. She turnedback, but she couldn’t see him in the shadows.

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‘Merry Christmas,’ he said.She smiled, but didn’t answer.

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CHAPTER 33

Eleanor

Eleanor slept until noon on Christmas Day. Untilher mom finally came in and told her to wake up.

‘Are you okay?’ her mom asked.‘I’m asleep.’‘You look like you’re getting a cold.’‘Does that mean I can go back to sleep?’‘I guess so. Look, Eleanor …’ her mother

stepped away from the door, and her voicedropped. ‘I’m going to talk to Richie about thissummer. I think I can get him to change his mindabout that camp.’

Eleanor opened her eyes. ‘No. No, I don’twant to go.’

‘But I thought you’d jump at the chance toget out of here.’

‘No,’ Eleanor said, ‘I don’t want to have toleave everybody … again.’ Saying it made herfeel like one hundred percent jerk, but she’d sayanything to spend the summer with Park. (Andshe wasn’t even going to tell herself that he’dprobably be sick of her by then.) ‘I want to stayhome,’ she said.

Her mom nodded. ‘Okay,’ she said, ‘then Iwon’t mention it. But if you change your mind…’

‘I won’t,’ Eleanor said.Her mom left the room, and Eleanor preten-

ded to go back to sleep.

Park

He slept until noon on Christmas Day, until Joshcame in and sprayed him with one of their mom’ssalon water bottles.

‘Dad says that if you don’t get up, he’s goingto let me have all your presents.’

Park beat Josh back with a pillow.

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Everybody else was waiting for him, and thewhole house smelled like turkey. His grandmawanted him to open her present first – a new‘Kiss Me, I’m Irish’ T-shirt. A size bigger thanlast year’s, which meant it would be a size toobig.

His parents gave him a fifty-dollar gift certi-ficate to Drastic Plastic, the punk-rock recordstore downtown. (Park was surprised that they’dthink of that. And he was surprised that DP soldgift certificates. Not very punk.)

He also got two black sweaters he might actu-ally wear, some Avon cologne in a bottle shapedlike an electric guitar, and an empty key ring –which his dad made sure everybody noticed.

Park’s sixteenth birthday had come and gone,and he didn’t even care anymore about gettinghis license and driving himself to school. Hewasn’t going to give up his only guaranteed timewith Eleanor.

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She’d already told him that as awesome aslast night was – and they both agreed it was awe-some – she couldn’t risk sneaking out again.

‘Any one of my siblings could have wokenup, they still could, and they would definitely tellon me. They have very confused allegiances.’

‘But if you’re quiet …’That’s when she’d told him that, most nights,

she shared a room with all of her brothers andsisters. All of them. A room about the size of his,she said, ‘minus the waterbed.’

They were sitting against the back door of theschool, in a little alcove where no one would seethem unless they were really looking, and wherethe snow didn’t fall directly on their faces. Theysat next to each other, facing each other, holdinghands.

There was nothing between them now. Noth-ing stupid and selfish just taking up space.

‘So you have two brothers and two sisters?’‘Three brothers, one sister.’‘What are their names?’

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‘Why?’‘I’m just curious,’ he said. ‘Is it classified?’She sighed. ‘Ben, Maisie …’‘Maisie?’‘Yeah. Then Mouse – Jeremiah. He’s five.

Then the baby. Little Richie.’Park laughed. ‘You call him “Little Richie”?’‘Well, his dad is Big Richie, not that he’s

very big either …’‘I know, but like Little Richard? “Tutti-

Frutti”?’‘Oh my God, I never thought of that. Why

haven’t I ever thought of that?’He pulled her hands to his chest. He still

hadn’t managed to touch Eleanor anywhere be-low the chin or above the elbow. He didn’t thinkshe’d necessarily stop him if he tried, but what ifshe did? That’d be awful. Anyway, her hands andher face were excellent.

‘Do you guys get along?’‘Sometimes … They’re all crazy.’‘How can a five-year-old be crazy?’

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‘Oh my God, Mouse? He’s the craziest ofthem all. He’s always got a hammer or a jackrab-bit or something stuck in his back pocket, and herefuses to wear a shirt.’

Park laughed. ‘How is Maisie crazy?’‘Well, she’s mean. For starters. And she

fights like a street person. Like, take-off-your-earrings fights.’

‘How old is she?’‘Eight. No, nine.’‘What about Ben?’‘Ben …’ She looked away. ‘You’ve seen

Ben. He’s almost Josh’s age. He needs a haircut.’‘Does Richie hate them, too?’Eleanor pushed Park’s hands forward. ‘Why

do you want to talk about this?’He pushed back. ‘Because. It’s your life. Be-

cause I’m interested. It’s like you’ve got all theseweird barriers set up, like you only want me tohave access to this tiny part of you …’

‘Yes,’ she said, crossing her arms. ‘Barriers.Caution tape. I’m doing you a favor.’

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‘Don’t,’ he said. ‘I can handle it.’ He put histhumb between her eyebrows and tried to smoothout the frown. ‘This whole stupid fight was aboutkeeping secrets.’

‘Keeping secrets about your demonic ex-girl-friend. I don’t have any demonic ex-anythings.’

‘Does Richie hate your brothers and sister,too?’

‘Stop saying his name.’ She was whispering.‘I’m sorry.’ Park whispered back.‘He hates everybody, I think.’‘Not your mom.’‘Especially her.’‘Is he mean to her?’Eleanor rolled her eyes and wiped her cheek

with her sweater sleeve. ‘Uh. Yeah.’Park took her hands again. ‘Why doesn’t she

leave?’She shook her head. ‘I don’t think she can …

I don’t think there’s enough of her left.’‘Is she scared of him?’ he asked.‘Yeah …’

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‘Are you scared of him?’‘Me?’‘I know you’re scared of getting kicked out,

but are you scared of him?’‘No.’ She lifted up her chin. ‘No … I just

have to lay low, you know? Like as long as I stayout of his way, I’m fine. I just have to beinvisible.’

Park smiled.‘What?’ she asked.‘You. Invisible.’She smiled. He let go of her hands and held

her face. Her cheeks were cold, and her eyeswere fathomless in the dark.

She was all he could see.

Eventually it was too cold to stay out there. Eventhe insides of their mouths were freezing.

Eleanor

Richie said Eleanor had to come out of her roomfor Christmas dinner. Fine. She really was getting

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a cold, so at least it didn’t seem like she’d beenfaking it all day.

Dinner was awesome. Her mom could reallycook when she had actual food to work with. (So-mething other than legumes.)

They had turkey with stuffing, and mashedpotatoes swimming with dill and butter. Fordessert there was rice pudding and pepper cook-ies, which her mom only ever made onChristmas.

At least that had been the rule back when hermom used to make all kinds of cookies, all yearlong. The little kids didn’t know what they weremissing now. When Eleanor and Ben were little,their mom baked constantly. There were alwaysfresh cookies in the kitchen when Eleanor gothome from school. And real breakfast everymorning … Eggs and bacon, or pancakes andsausage, or oatmeal with cream and brown sugar.

Eleanor used to think that that was why shewas so fat. But look at her now, she was starvingall the time, and she was still enormous.

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They all tore into Christmas dinner like it wastheir last meal, which it practically was, at leastfor a while. Ben ate both of the turkey legs, andMouse ate an entire plate of mashed potatoes.

Richie had been drinking all day again, so hewas all kinds of festive at dinner – laughing toomuch and too loud. But you couldn’t enjoy thefact that he was in a good mood, because it wasthe kind of good mood that was just on the edgeof a bad one. They were all waiting for him tocross over …

Which he did, as soon as he realized therewas no pumpkin pie.

‘What the fuck is this?’ he said, flicking hisspoon in the ris ala mande.

‘It’s rice pudding,’ Ben said, stupid withturkey.

‘I know it’s pudding,’ Richie said. ‘Where’sthe pumpkin pie, Sabrina?’ he shouted into thekitchen. ‘I told you to make a real Christmas din-ner. I gave you money for a real Christmasdinner.’

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Her mother stood in the doorway to the kit-chen. She still hadn’t sat down to eat. ‘It’s …’

It’s a traditional Danish Christmas dessert,Eleanor thought. My grandmother made it, andher grandmother made it, and it’s better thanpumpkin pie. It’s special.

‘It’s … just that I forgot to buy pumpkin,’ hermother said.

‘How could you forget the fucking pumpkinon Christmas,’ Richie said, hurling the stainless-steel bowl of rice pudding. It hit the wall near hermother and sprayed weepy chunks everywhere.

Everyone but Richie stayed still.He stood up unsteadily from his chair. ‘I’m

going to go buy some pumpkin pie … so thisfamily can have a real fucking Christmas dinner.’

He walked to the back door.As soon as they heard his truck tear out,

Eleanor’s mom picked up the bowl with whatwas left of the rice pudding, then skimmed thetop off the pile of pudding on the floor.

‘Who wants cherry sauce?’ she said.

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They all did.Eleanor cleaned up the rest of the pudding,

and Ben turned on the TV. They watched TheGrinch and Frosty the Snowman, and A Christ-mas Carol.

Their mom even sat down to watch withthem.

Eleanor couldn’t help but think that if theGhost of Christmas Past showed up, he’d be dis-gusted with their whole situation. But Eleanorfelt full and happy when she fell asleep.

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CHAPTER 34

Eleanor

Park’s mom didn’t seem surprised to see Eleanorthe next day. He must have warned them she wascoming.

‘Eleanor,’ his mom said extra nicely, ‘MerryChristmas, come in.’

When Eleanor walked into the living room,Park had just gotten out of the shower, which wasembarrassing for some reason. His hair was wetand his T-shirt was kind of sticking to him. Hewas really happy to see her. That was obvious.(And nice.)

She didn’t know what to do with his present,so when he walked over to her, she shoved it athim. He smiled, surprised. ‘This is for me?’

‘No,’ she said, ‘it’s …’ She couldn’t think ofanything funny to say. ‘Yeah, it’s for you.’

‘You didn’t have to get me anything.’‘I didn’t. Really.’‘Can I open it?’She still couldn’t think of anything funny, so

she nodded. At least his family was in the kit-chen, so nobody was watching them.

The present was wrapped in stationery.Eleanor’s favorite stationery, watercolor paint-ings of fairies and flowers.

Park peeled off the paper carefully andlooked at the book. It was The Catcher in theRye. A really old edition. Eleanor had decided toleave the dust jacket on because it was neat-look-ing, even though it still had a thrift-shop pricescrawled on the front with grease pencil.

‘I know it’s pretentious,’ she said. ‘I was go-ing to give you Watership Down, but that’s aboutrabbits, and not everybody wants to read aboutrabbits …’

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He looked at the book, smiling. For a terriblesecond, she thought he was going to open thefront cover. And she really didn’t want him toread what she’d written. (Not while she wasstanding right there.)

‘Is this your book?’ he asked.‘Yeah, but I’ve already read it.’‘Thank you,’ he said, grinning at her. When

he was really happy, his eyes disappeared into hischeeks. ‘Thank you.’

‘You’re welcome,’ she said, looking down.‘Just don’t kill John Lennon or anything.’

‘Come here,’ he said, pulling on the front ofher jacket.

She followed him to his room but stopped atthe door like there was an invisible fence. Parkset the book on his bed, then grabbed two smallboxes off a shelf. They were both wrapped inChristmas paper with big red bows.

He came and stood in the doorway with her;she leaned back against the jamb.

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‘This one is from my mom,’ he said, holdingup a box. ‘It’s perfume. Please don’t wear it.’ Hiseyes flicked down for a second, then back up ather. ‘This one is from me.’

‘You didn’t have to get me a present,’ shesaid.

‘Don’t be stupid.’When she didn’t take the present, he took her

hand and pressed the box into it.‘I tried to think of something that nobody

would notice but you,’ he said, pushing his bangsoff his face. ‘That you wouldn’t have to explainto your mom … Like, I was going to buy you areally nice pen, but then …’

He was watching her open it, which made hernervous. She accidentally tore the wrapping pa-per. He took the paper from her, and she openeda small gray box.

There was a necklace inside. A thin silverchain with a small pendant, a silver pansy.

‘I’ll understand if you can’t take it,’ Parksaid.

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She shouldn’t take it, but she wanted it.

Park

Dumb. He should have gotten the pen. Jewelrywas so public … and personal, which is why he’dbought it. He couldn’t buy Eleanor a pen. Or abookmark. He didn’t have bookmark-like feel-ings for her.

Park had used most of his car stereo money tobuy the necklace. He’d found it at the jewelrystore in the mall where people try on engagementrings.

‘I kept the receipt,’ he said.‘No,’ Eleanor said, looking up at him. She

looked anxious, but he wasn’t sure what kind.‘No. It’s beautiful,’ she said, ‘thank you.’

‘Will you wear it?’ he asked.She nodded.He ran his hand through his hair and held

onto the back of his neck, trying to rein himselfin. ‘Now?’

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Eleanor looked at him for a second, then nod-ded again. He took the necklace out of the boxand carefully fastened it around her neck. Justlike he’d imagined himself doing when he boughtit. That might even be why he bought it – so he’dhave this moment, with his hands warm on theback of her neck, under her hair. He ran his fin-gertips along the chain and settled the pendant onher throat.

She shivered.Park wanted to pull on the chain, to pull it in-

to his chest and anchor her there.He pulled his hands away self-consciously

and leaned back against the doorjamb.

Eleanor

They were sitting in the kitchen, playing cards.Speed. She’d taught Park how to play, and shecould always beat him for the first few rounds.But after that, she’d get sloppy. (Maisie alwaysstarted winning after a few rounds, too.)

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Playing cards in Park’s kitchen, even if hismom was in there, was better than just sitting inthe living room, thinking about all the thingsthey’d be doing if they were alone.

His mom asked how her Christmas was, andEleanor said it was nice. ‘What do you have forholiday dinner?’ his mom asked. ‘Turkey orham?’

‘Turkey,’ Eleanor said, ‘with dill potatoes …My mom’s Danish.’

Park stopped playing to look at her. Shepopped her eyes at him. ‘What, I’m Danish, shutup,’ she would have said if his mom hadn’t beenthere.

‘That’s where you get beautiful red hair,’ hismom said knowingly.

Park smiled at Eleanor. She rolled her eyes.When his mom left to run something over to

his grandparents, Park kicked her under the table.He wasn’t wearing shoes.

‘I didn’t know you were Danish,’ he said.

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‘Is this the kind of scintillating conversationwe’re going to have now that we don’t have anysecrets?’

‘Yes. Is your mom Danish?’‘Yes,’ she said.‘What’s your dad?’‘An ass.’He frowned.‘What? You wanted honest and intimate.

That’s way more honest than “Scottish.”’‘Scottish,’ Park said, and smiled.Eleanor had been thinking about this new ar-

rangement he wanted. This being totally openand honest with each other. She didn’t think shecould start telling Park the whole, ugly truthovernight.

What if he was wrong? What if he couldn’thandle it?

What if Park realized that all the things hethought were so mysterious and intriguing abouther were actually just … bleak?

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When he asked about her Christmas, Eleanortold him about her mom’s cookies and themovies, and how Mouse thought The Grinch wasabout ‘all the Hoots down in Hootville.’

She half expected him to say, ‘Yeah, but nowtell me all the terrible parts …’ Instead helaughed.

‘Do you think your mom would be okay withme,’ he asked, ‘you know, if it wasn’t for yourstepdad?’

‘I don’t know …’ Eleanor said. She realizedthat she was holding on to the silver pansy.

Eleanor spent the rest of Christmas vacation atPark’s house. His mom didn’t seem to mind, andhis dad was always inviting her to stay for dinner.

Eleanor’s mom thought she was spending allthat time with Tina. Once she’d said, ‘I hopeyou’re not overstaying your welcome over there,Eleanor.’ And once she’d said, ‘Tina could comeover here sometimes, too, you know,’ which theyboth knew was a joke.

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Nobody brought friends into their house. Notthe little kids. Not even Richie. And her momdidn’t have friends anymore.

She used to.When Eleanor’s parents were still together,

there were always people around. There were al-ways parties. Men with long hair. Women in longdresses. Glasses of red wine everywhere.

And even after her dad left, there were stillwomen. Single moms who brought over theirkids, plus all the ingredients for banana daiquiris.They’d sit up late talking in hushed voices abouttheir ex-husbands and speculating about newboyfriends, while the kids played Trouble andSorry in the next room.

Richie had started as one of those stories. Itwent like this:

Her mom used to walk to the grocery storeearly in the morning while the kids were stillasleep. They didn’t have a car back then either.(Her mom hadn’t had a car of her own since highschool.) Well, Richie would see her mom out

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walking every morning on his drive to work. Oneday he stopped and asked for her number. Hesaid she was the prettiest woman he’d ever seen.

When Eleanor first heard about Richie, shewas leaning against their old couch, reading aLife magazine, and drinking a virgin banana dai-quiri. She wasn’t exactly eavesdropping – all hermom’s friends liked having Eleanor around.They liked that she watched their kids withoutcomplaining, they said she was wise beyond heryears. If Eleanor was quiet, they sort of forgotshe was in the room. And if they drank too much,they didn’t care.

‘Never trust a man, Eleanor!’ they’d allshouted at her, at one point or another.

‘Especially if he hates to dance!’But when her mom told them that Richie said

she was as pretty as a spring day, they’d allsighed and asked her to tell them more.

Of course he said she’s the prettiest womanhe’s ever seen, Eleanor thought. She undoubtedlyis.

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Eleanor was twelve, and she couldn’t imaginea guy fucking her mom over worse than her dadhad.

She didn’t know there were things worse thanselfish.

Anyway. She always tried to leave Park’s housebefore dinner – just in case her mom was rightabout wearing out her welcome – and because, ifEleanor left early, there was a better chance thatshe’d beat Richie home.

Hanging out with Park every day had reallymessed up her bath-taking routine. (A fact shewas never ever going to tell him, no matter howsharey-carey they got.)

The only safe time to take a bath in her housewas right after school. If Eleanor went over toPark’s house right after school, she had to hopethat Richie would still be at the Broken Railwhen she got home that night. And then she hadto take a really fast bath because the back doorwas right across from the bathroom, and it couldopen at any time.

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She could tell that all this sneaky bath-takingwas making her mom nervous, but it wasn’t ex-actly Eleanor’s fault. She’d considered taking ashower in the locker room at school, but thatmight even be more dangerous: Tina et al.

The other day at lunch, Tina had a made bigpoint of walking by Eleanor’s table and mouthingthe C-word. The c-u-n-t word. (Richie didn’teven use that word, which implied an unimagin-able degree of filth.)

‘What is her problem?’ DeNice asked.Rhetorically.

‘She thinks she’s all that,’ Beebi said.‘She ain’t all that,’ DeNice said. ‘Walking

around here looking like a little boy in aminiskirt.’

Beebi giggled.‘That hair is just wrong,’ DeNice said, still

looking at Tina. ‘She needs to wake up a littleearlier and try to decide whether she wants tolook like Farrah Fawcett or Rick James.’

Beebi and Eleanor both cracked up.

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‘I mean, pick one, girl,’ DeNice said, milkingit. ‘Pick. One.’

‘Oh, girl!’ Beebi said, slapping Eleanor’s leg.‘There’s your man.’ They all looked out thecafeteria’s glass wall. Park was walking by witha few other guys. He was wearing jeans and a T-shirt that said ‘Minor Threat.’ He looked into thecafeteria and smiled when he saw Eleanor. Beebigiggled.

‘He is cute,’ DeNice said. Like it wassomething certifiable.

‘I know,’ Eleanor said. ‘I want to eat hisface.’

They all three giggled until DeNice calledthem back to order.

Park

‘So,’ Cal said.Park was still smiling. Even though they were

long past the cafeteria.‘You and Eleanor, huh?’

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‘Uh … yeah,’ Park said.‘Yeah,’ Cal said, nodding. ‘Everybody

knows. I mean, I’ve known forever. I could tellby the way you stare at her in English … I wasjust waiting for you to tell me.’

‘Oh,’ Park said, looking up at Cal. ‘Sorry.I’m going out with Eleanor.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’‘I figured you knew.’‘I did know,’ Cal said. ‘But, you know, we’re

friends. We’re supposed to talk about thesethings.’

‘I didn’t think you’d get it …’‘I don’t get it. No offense. Eleanor still scares

the crap out of me. But if you’re getting it – youknow, getting it – I want to know about it. I wantthe whole freaking report.’

‘This, actually,’ Park said. ‘This is why Ididn’t tell you.’

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CHAPTER 35

Eleanor

Park’s mom asked him to set the table. That wasEleanor’s cue to leave. The sun had almost set.She rushed down the steps before Park could stopher … and almost ran into his dad standing in thedriveway.

‘Hey, Eleanor,’ he said, startling her. He wasmessing around with something in the back of histruck.

‘Hey,’ she said, rushing past him. He reallydid look an awful lot like Magnum P.I. It wasn’tsomething you got used to.

‘Hey, wait, come here,’ he said.She felt something go slightly wrong in her

stomach. She stopped and stepped toward him,but only a little.

‘Look,’ he said, ‘I’m getting tired of askingyou to stay for dinner.’

‘Okay …’ she said.‘What I mean is, I want you to feel like you

have a standing invitation. You’re just … wel-come, okay?’ He seemed uncomfortable, and itwas making her uncomfortable. Way more un-comfortable than she usually felt around him.

‘Okay …’ she said.‘Look, Eleanor … I know your stepdad.’This could go a million different ways, she

thought. All of them awful.Park’s dad kept talking, one hand on his

truck, the other on the back of his neck, like hewas in pain. ‘We grew up together. I’m olderthan Richie, but this is a small neighborhood, andI’ve put in my time at the Rail …’

The sun was too far gone to see his face.Eleanor still wasn’t sure what he was getting at.

‘I know that your stepdad isn’t an easy manto be around,’ Park’s dad said finally, steppingtoward her. ‘And I’m just saying, you know, that

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if it’s easier to be over here, then you should justbe here. That would make Mindy and I feel a lotbetter, okay?’

‘Okay,’ she said.‘So this is the last time I’m going to ask you

to stay for dinner.’Eleanor smiled, and he smiled back, and for a

second he looked a lot more like Park than TomSelleck.

Park

Eleanor on the couch, holding his hand. Acrossfrom him at the kitchen table with her homework…

Helping him carry in groceries for his grand-mother. Politely eating everything his mom madefor dinner, even if it was something completelydisgusting like liver and onions …

They were always together, and it still wasn’tenough.

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He still hadn’t found a way to put his arms allthe way around her. And he still didn’t haveenough opportunities to kiss her. She wouldn’t goto his room with him …

‘We can listen to music,’ he’d say.‘Your mom …’‘Doesn’t care. We’ll leave the door open.’‘Where will we sit?’‘On my bed.’‘God. No.’‘On the floor.’‘I don’t want her to think I’m slutty.’He wasn’t sure his mother even thought of

Eleanor as a girl.She liked Eleanor though. More than she used

to. Just the other day, his mom had said thatEleanor had excellent manners.

‘She’s very quiet,’ his mom said, like thatwas a good thing.

‘She’s just nervous,’ Park said.‘Why nervous?’‘I don’t know,’ Park said. ‘She just is.’

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He could tell that his mom still hated Elean-or’s clothes. She was always looking her up anddown and shaking her head when she thoughtEleanor wasn’t looking.

Eleanor was unfailingly polite with his mom.She even tried to make small talk. One Saturdaynight after dinner, Park’s mom was sorting herAvon shipment on the dining room table whilePark and Eleanor played cards. ‘How long haveyou been a beautician?’ Eleanor asked, lookingover at all the bottles.

His mom loved that word.‘Since Josh start school. I get my GED, I go

to beauty school, get license, get permit …’‘Wow,’ Eleanor said.‘I always do hair,’ his mom said, ‘even be-

fore.’ She opened a pink bottle of lotion andsmelled it. ‘Little girl … cut doll’s hair, paint onmakeup.’

‘That sounds like my sister,’ Eleanor said. ‘Icould never do any of that.’

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‘Not so hard …’ his mom said, looking up ather. His mom’s eyes lit up. ‘Hey, I have goodidea,’ she said. ‘I do your hair. We havemakeover night.’

Eleanor’s mouth dropped open. She wasprobably picturing herself with feathered hair andfake eyelashes.

‘Oh, no …’ she said. ‘I couldn’t …’‘Yes,’ his mom said, ‘so much fun!’‘Mom, no,’ Park said, ‘Eleanor doesn’t want

a makeover … She doesn’t need a makeover,’ headded, as soon as he thought of it.

‘Not big makeover,’ his mom said. She wasalready reaching for Eleanor’s hair. ‘No cutting.Nothing we can’t wash off.’

Park looked at Eleanor, pleading. Hopefully,she’d know that he was pleading because itwould make his mom happy, not because hethought there was anything wrong with her.

‘No cutting?’ Eleanor said.His mom was fingering a curl. ‘Better light in

the garage,’ she said, ‘come on.’

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Eleanor

Park’s mom put Eleanor in the shampoo chairand snapped her fingers at Park. To Eleanor’shorror – to her ongoing horror – Park came overand started filling the sink with water. He took apink towel down from a big stack, and expertlyVelcroed it around Eleanor’s neck, carefully lift-ing out her hair.

‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered. ‘Do you want meto leave?’

‘No,’ she mouthed, grabbing his shirt. Yes,she thought. She was already starting to dissolvewith embarrassment. She couldn’t feel the tips ofher fingers.

But if Park left, there’d be no one to stop hismom if she decided to give Eleanor giant, claw-shaped bangs or a spiral perm. Or both.

Eleanor wouldn’t try to stop her, no matterwhat; she was a guest in this garage. She’d eatenthis woman’s food and manhandled her son – shewas in no position to argue.

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Park’s mom pushed him aside and laid Elean-or’s head firmly back into the sink. ‘What kind ofshampoo you use?’

‘I don’t know,’ Eleanor said.‘How you not know?’ his mom asked, feeling

her hair. ‘Feels too dry. Curly hair is dry, youknow?’

Eleanor shook her head.‘Hmmm …’ Park’s mom said. She tipped

Eleanor’s head back into the water and told Parkto go stick a hot-oil pack in the microwave.

It was really, really strange having Park’smom wash her hair. She was practically standingin Eleanor’s lap; her angel necklace hung rightover Eleanor’s mouth. Plus, the whole processtickled like crazy. Eleanor didn’t know whetherPark was watching. She hoped not.

A few minutes later, her hair was hot-oiledand wrapped in a towel so tight it hurt her fore-head. Park was sitting across from her, trying tosmile, but looking almost as uncomfortable asshe felt.

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His mom was going through box after box ofAvon samples. ‘I know it’s here somewhere,’ shesaid. ‘Cinnamon, cinnamon, cinnamon … A-ha!’

She wheeled her chair over to Eleanor.‘Okay. Close eyes.’

Eleanor stared at her. She was holding up alittle brown pencil.

‘Close eyes,’ she said again.‘Why?’ Eleanor said.‘Don’t worry. This wash off.’‘But I don’t wear makeup.’‘Why not?’Maybe Eleanor should say that she wasn’t al-

lowed to. That would sound nicer than ‘becausemakeup is a lie.’

‘I don’t know,’ Eleanor said, ‘it’s just notme.’

‘Yes, you,’ his mom said, looking at the pen-cil. ‘Very good color for you. Cinnamon.’

‘Is that lipstick?’‘No, eyeliner.’Eleanor especially didn’t wear eyeliner.

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‘What does it do?’‘It’s makeup,’ his mom said, exasperated. ‘It

makes you pretty.’Eleanor felt like she had something in her

eye. Like fire.‘Mom …’ Park said.‘Here,’ his mom said. ‘I’ll show you.’ She

turned to Park, and before either of them realizedwhat she was planning, she had her thumb at thecorner of his eye.

‘Cinnamon too light,’ she muttered. Shepicked up a different pencil. ‘Onyx.’

‘Mom …’ Park said painfully, but he didn’tmove.

His mom sat so that Eleanor could see, thendeftly drew a line along Park’s eyelashes.‘Open.’ He did. ‘Nice … close.’ She did the othereye, too. Then she added another line under hiseye and licked her thumb to wipe away asmudge. ‘There, nice.’

‘See?’ she said, sitting back so that Eleanorcould see. ‘Easy. Pretty.’

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Park didn’t look pretty. He looked dangerous.Like Ming the Merciless. Or a member of DuranDuran.

‘You look like Robert Smith,’ Eleanor said.But … yeah, she thought, prettier.

He looked down. Eleanor couldn’t look away.His mom swooped in between them. ‘Okay,

now close eyes,’ she said to Eleanor. ‘Open. Nice… Close again …’ It felt exactly like havingsomeone draw on your eye with a pencil. Then itwas over, and Park’s mom was rubbingsomething cold on Eleanor’s cheeks.

‘This very easy routine,’ his mom said.‘Foundation, powder, eyeliner, eye shadow, mas-cara, lip liner, lipstick, blush. Eight steps, takeyou fifteen minutes tops.’

Park’s mom was very businesslike, likesomeone with a cooking show on PBS. Prettysoon she was unwrapping Eleanor’s hair andstanding behind her.

Eleanor wanted to look at Park again, nowthat she could, but she didn’t want him looking

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back. Her face felt so heavy and sticky, she prob-ably looked like one of the Designing Women.

Park scooted his chair closer to hers and star-ted bouncing his fist on her knee. It took Eleanora second to realize he was challenging her to agame of Rock, Paper, Scissors.

She played along. God. Any excuse to touchhim. Any excuse not to look at him directly. He’drubbed his eyes, so he didn’t look painted any-more – but he still looked like something Eleanordidn’t have words for.

‘That’s how Park keep little kids busy duringhaircuts,’ his mom said. ‘You must look scared,Eleanor. Don’t worry. I promise no cutting.’

Eleanor and Park both made scissors.His mom rubbed half a can of mousse into

her hair, then blew it dry with a diffuser (whichEleanor had never heard of before but was appar-ently very, very important).

According to Park’s mom, everything Elean-or was doing with her hair – washing it with

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whatever, brushing it, tying in beads and silkflowers – was dead wrong.

She should be diffusing and scrunching and,if possible, sleeping on a satin pillowcase.

‘I think you look really good with bangs,’ hismom said. ‘Maybe next time, we try bangs.’

There will never be a next time, Eleanorpromised herself and God.

‘Okay, all done.’ Park’s mom was all smiles.‘Look so pretty … Ready to see?’ She turnedEleanor around to the mirror. ‘Ta-daa!’

Eleanor looked at her own lap.‘Have to look, Eleanor. Look, mirror, so

pretty.’Eleanor couldn’t. She could feel them both

watching her. She wanted to disappear, to dropthrough a trap door. This whole thing was a badidea. A terrible idea. She was going to cry, shewas going to make a scene. Park’s mom was go-ing to go back to hating her.

‘Hey, Mindy.’ Park’s dad opened the doorand leaned into the garage. ‘Phone call. Oh, hey,

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look at you, Eleanor, you look like a Solid Golddancer.’

‘See?’ his mom said, ‘I told you – pretty.Don’t look in mirror until I come back. Lookingin mirror best part.’

She hurried into the house, and Eleanor hidher face in her hands, trying not to mess anythingup. She felt Park’s hands on her wrists.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I guess I knew you’dhate this, but I didn’t think you’d hate it thismuch.’

‘It’s just so embarrassing.’‘Why?’‘Because … you’re all looking at me.’‘I’m always looking at you,’ he said.‘I know, I wish you’d stop.’‘She’s just trying to get to know you. This is

her thing.’‘Do I look like a Solid Gold dancer?’‘No …’‘Oh my God,’ she said, ‘I do.’‘No, you look … just look.’

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‘I don’t want to.’‘Look now,’ he said, ‘before my mom gets

back.’‘Only if you close your eyes.’‘Okay, they’re closed.’Eleanor uncovered her face and looked in the

mirror. It wasn’t as embarrassing as she thought– because it was like looking at a different per-son. Someone with cheekbones and giant eyesand really wet lips. Her hair was still curly, curli-er than ever, but calmer somehow. Lessderanged.

Eleanor hated it, she hated all of it.‘Can I open my eyes?’ Park asked.‘No.’‘Are you crying?’‘No.’ Of course she was. She was going to

ruin her fake face, and Park’s mom was going togo back to hating her.

Park opened his eyes and sat in front ofEleanor on the vanity. ‘Is it so bad?’ he asked.

‘It’s not me.’

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‘Of course it’s you.’‘I just, I look like I’m in costume. Like I’m

trying to be something that I’m not.’Like she was trying to be pretty and popular.

It was the trying part that was so disgusting.‘I think your hair looks really nice,’ Park

said.‘It’s not my hair.’‘It is …’‘I don’t want your mom to see me like this. I

don’t want to hurt her feelings.’‘Kiss me.’‘What?’He kissed her. Eleanor felt her shoulders fall

and her stomach untwist. Then it started twistingin the other direction. She pulled away.

‘Are you kissing me because I look likesomeone else?’

‘You don’t look like someone else. Plus,that’s crazy.’

‘Do you like me better like this?’ she asked.‘Because I’m never going to look like this again.’

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‘I like you the same … I kind of miss yourfreckles.’ He rubbed her cheeks with his sleeve.‘There,’ he said.

‘You look like a different person,’ she said,‘and you’re just wearing eyeliner.’

‘Do you like me better?’She rolled her eyes, but she felt the heat in

her neck. ‘You look different. You lookunsettling.’

‘You look like you,’ he said. ‘You with thevolume turned up.’

She looked in the mirror again.‘The thing is,’ Park said. ‘I’m pretty sure my

mom was holding back. I think she thinks this isthe natural look.’

Eleanor laughed. The door to the houseopened.

‘Awww, I told you guys to wait,’ his momsaid. ‘Were you surprised?’

Eleanor nodded.‘Did you cry? Oh, I miss it!’‘Sorry if I messed it up,’ Eleanor said.

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‘No mess,’ his mom said, ‘waterproof mas-cara and stay-put foundation.’

‘Thank you,’ Eleanor said carefully. ‘I couldhardly believe the difference.’

‘I’ll make you a kit,’ his mom said. ‘These allcolors I never use anyway. Here, sit down, Park.I trim your hair while we here. Looking shaggy…’

Eleanor sat in front of him and played Rock,Paper, Scissors on his knee.

Park

She looked like a different person, and Parkdidn’t know if he liked it better. Or at all.

He couldn’t figure out why it upset her somuch. Sometimes, it seemed like she was tryingto hide everything that was pretty about her. Likeshe wanted to look ugly.

That was something his mother would say.Which is why he hadn’t said it to Eleanor. (Didthat count as holding back?)

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He got why Eleanor tried so hard to look dif-ferent. Sort of. It was because she was different –because she wasn’t afraid to be. (Or maybe shewas just more afraid of being like everyone else.)

There was something really exciting aboutthat. He liked being near that, that kind of braveand crazy.

‘Unsettling, how?’ he’d wanted to ask her.The next morning, Park took the onyx eye-

liner into the bathroom and put it on. He wasmessier than his mom, but he thought that mightlook better. More masculine.

He looked in the mirror. ‘This really makeyour eyes pop,’ his mom always told her custom-ers, and it was true. The eyeliner did make hiseyes pop. It also made him look even less white.

Then Park did his hair like he usually did –flared up in the middle, all messy and tall, like itwas reaching for something. Usually, as soon ashe did that, Park combed his hair out and downagain.

Today he left it wild.

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His dad flipped at breakfast. Flipped. Park triedto sneak out without seeing him, but his momwas non-negotiable about breakfast. Park hunghis head over the cereal bowl.

‘What’s wrong with your hair?’ his dadasked.

‘Nothing.’‘Wait a minute, look at me … I said look at

me.’Park lifted his head, but looked away.‘What the fuck, Park?’‘Jamie!’ his mother said.‘Look at him, Mindy, he’s wearing makeup!

Are you fucking kidding me, Park?’‘No excuse to cuss,’ his mom said. She

looked nervously at Park, like maybe this was herfault. Maybe it was. Maybe she shouldn’t havetried out lipstick samples on him when he was inkindergarten. Not that he wanted to wear lipstick…

Probably.

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‘Like hell it isn’t,’ his dad roared. ‘Go washyour face, Park.’

Park stayed where he was.‘Go wash your face. Park.’Park took a bite of cereal.‘Jamie …’ his mom said.‘No, Mindy. No. I let these boys do pretty

much anything they damn well please. But, no.Park is not leaving this house looking like a girl.’

‘Plenty of guys wear makeup,’ Park said.‘What? What are you even talking about?’‘David Bowie,’ Park said. ‘Marc Bolan.’‘I’m not listening to this. Wash your face.’‘Why?’ Park pushed his fists into the table.‘Because I said so. Because you look like a

girl.’‘So what else is new?’ Park shoved his cereal

bowl away.‘What did you say?’‘I said, what else is new? Isn’t that what you

think?’

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Park felt tears on his cheeks, but he didn’twant to touch his eyes.

‘Go to school, Park,’ his mom said softly.‘You miss your bus.’

‘Mindy …’ his dad said, just barely restrain-ing himself, ‘they’ll tear him apart.’

‘You tell me Park all grown up now, almostman, make own decisions. So let him make owndecisions. Let him go.’

His dad didn’t say anything; he’d never raisehis voice to Park’s mom. Park saw his opportun-ity and left.

He went to his own bus stop, not Eleanor’s. Hewanted to deal with Steve before he saw her. IfSteve was going to beat the shit out of him forthis, Park would prefer that Eleanor not be in theaudience.

But Steve hardly mentioned it.‘Hey, Park, what the fuck, man, are you

wearing makeup?’‘Yeah,’ Park said, holding onto his backpack.

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Everyone around Steve tittered, waiting tosee what would happen next.

‘You kind of look like Ozzy, man,’ Stevesaid. ‘You look ready to bite the head off a fuck-ing bat.’

Everybody laughed. Steve bared his teeth atTina and growled, and then it was over.

When Eleanor got on the bus, she was in agood mood. ‘You’re here! I thought maybe youwere sick when you weren’t at my corner.’ Helooked up at her. She looked surprised, then satdown quietly and looked at her hands.

‘Do I look like one of the Solid Gold dan-cers?’ he asked finally, when he couldn’t takeany more quiet.

‘No,’ she said, sidelong glancing, ‘you look…’

‘Unsettling?’ he asked.She laughed and nodded.‘Unsettling, how?’ he asked her.

She kissed him with tongue. On the bus.

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CHAPTER 36

Park

Park told Eleanor not to come over after school.He figured he was grounded. He washed his faceas soon as he got home and sent himself to hisroom.

His mom came in to check on him.‘Am I grounded?’ he asked.‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘Did you have a

good day at school?’Meaning, did anyone try to flush his face

down the toilet?‘It was fine,’ he said.A couple of kids had called Park names in the

halls, but it didn’t hurt like he thought it might.Lots of other people said he looked cool.

His mom sat on his bed. She looked likeshe’d had a long day. You could see her lipliner.

She stared at a jumble of Star Wars actionfigures piled up on the shelf over his bed. Hehadn’t touched them for years.

‘Park,’ she said, ‘do you … want to look likegirl? Is that what this about? Eleanor dress likeboy. You look like girl?’

‘No …’ Park said. ‘I just like it. I like theway it feels.’

‘Like girl?’‘No,’ he said. ‘Like myself.’‘Your dad …’‘I don’t want to talk about him.’His mother sat for another minute, then left.Park stayed in his room until Josh came to get

him for dinner. His dad didn’t look up when Parksat down.

‘Where’s Eleanor?’ his dad asked.‘I thought I was grounded.’‘You’re not grounded,’ his dad said, concen-

trating on his meat loaf.

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Park looked around the table. Only Joshwould look back at him. ‘Are you going to talk tome about this morning?’ Park asked.

His dad took another bite, chewed it care-fully, then swallowed. ‘No, Park, at the moment Ican’t think of a single thing I’d like to say toyou.’

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CHAPTER 37

Eleanor

Park was right. They were never alone.She thought about sneaking out again, but the

risk was incomprehensible, and it was so effingcold out she’d probably lose an ear to frostbite.Which her mom would definitely notice.

She’d already noticed the mascara. (Eventhough it was brown and said ‘Subtle, NaturalLook’ right on the package.)

‘Tina gave it to me,’ Eleanor said. ‘Hermom’s an Avon lady.’

If she just changed Park’s name to ‘Tina’every time she lied, it only felt like one big lie in-stead of a million small ones.

It was kind of funny to think about hangingout at Tina’s house every day, doing each other’snails, trying on lip gloss …

It would be awful if her mom actually metTina somewhere, but that didn’t seem likely – hermom never talked to anybody in the neighbor-hood. If you weren’t born in the Flats (if yourfamily didn’t go back ten generations, if yourparents didn’t have the same great-great-grand-parents), you were an outsider.

Park always said that was why people lefthim alone, even though he was weird and Asian.Because his family had owned their land backwhen the neighborhood was still cornfields.

Park. Eleanor blushed whenever she thoughtabout him. She’d probably always done that, butnow it was worse. Because he was cute and coolbefore, but lately he seemed so much more ofboth.

Even DeNice and Beebi thought so.‘He looks like a rock star,’ DeNice said.‘He looks like El DeBarge,’ Beebi agreed.

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He looked like himself, Eleanor thought, butbolder. Like Park with the volume turned way up.

Park

They were never alone.They tried to make the walk from the bus to

Park’s house last forever, and sometimes, they’dhang out on his front steps a while … until hismom opened the door and told them to come infrom the cold.

Maybe it would be better this summer. Theycould go outside. Maybe they could take walks.Maybe he’d get his driver’s license after all …

No. His dad hadn’t even spoken to him sincethe day they fought.

‘What’s up with your dad?’ Eleanor askedhim. She was standing one step below him on hisfront stoop.

‘He’s mad at me.’‘For what?’‘For not being like him.’

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Eleanor looked dubious. ‘Has he been mad atyou for the last sixteen years?’

‘Basically.’‘But it always seemed like you got along …’

she said.‘No,’ Park said, ‘never. I mean, we were kind

of getting along for a while, because I finally gotin a fight, and because he thought my mom wasbeing too hard on you.’

‘I knew she didn’t like me!’ Eleanor pokedPark’s arm.

‘Well, now she likes you,’ he said, ‘so nowmy dad is back to not liking me.’

‘Your dad loves you,’ she said. It seemed toreally matter to her.

Park shook his head. ‘Only because he has to.He’s disappointed in me.’

Eleanor laid her hand on his chest, and hismom opened the door.

‘Come in, come in,’ she said. ‘Too cold.’

Eleanor

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‘Your hair looks nice, Eleanor,’ Park’s mom said.‘Thank you.’Eleanor wasn’t diffusing, but she was using

the conditioner Park’s mom had given her. Andshe’d actually found a satin pillowcase in thestack of towels and stuff in her bedroom closet,which was practically a sign from God that Hewanted Eleanor to take better care of her hair.

Park’s mom really did seem to like her betternow. Eleanor hadn’t consented to another full-onmakeover, but Park’s mom was always tryingnew eyeshadows on her or messing with her hairwhile she sat at the kitchen table with Park.

‘I should have had girl,’ his mom said.I should have had a family like this, Eleanor

thought. And it only sometimes made her feellike a traitor to think so.

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CHAPTER 38

Eleanor

Wednesday nights were the worst.Park had taekwando, so Eleanor went straight

home after school, took a bath, then tried to hidein her room all night, reading.

It was way too cold to play outside, so thelittle kids were crawling up the walls. WhenRichie came home, there was no place for any-body to hide.

Ben was so afraid that Richie would send himto the basement early that he was sitting in thebedroom closet, playing with his cars.

When Richie turned on Mike Hammer theirmom shooed Maisie into the bedroom, too, eventhough Richie said she could stay.

Maisie paced the room, bored and irritable.She walked over to the bunk bed.

‘Can I come up?’‘No.’‘Please …’Their beds were junior-sized, smaller than a

twin, just barely big enough for Eleanor. AndMaisie wasn’t one of those stringy, weightlessnine-year-olds …

‘Fine,’ Eleanor groaned.She scooted over carefully, like she was on

thin ice, and pushed her grapefruit box behindher into the corner.

Maisie climbed up and sat on Eleanor’s pil-low. ‘What’re you reading?’

‘Watership Down.’Maisie wasn’t paying attention. She folded

her arms and leaned toward Eleanor. ‘We knowyou have a boyfriend,’ she whispered.

Eleanor’s heart stopped. ‘I don’t have a boy-friend,’ she said blankly – and immediately.

‘We already know,’ Maisie said.

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Eleanor looked over at Ben, sitting in thecloset. He stared at her without giving up a thing.Thanks to Richie, they were all experts in theblank-face department. They should find somefamily poker tournament …

‘Bobbie told us,’ Maisie said. ‘Her big sistergoes with Josh Sheridan, and Josh says you’re hisbrother’s girlfriend. Ben said you weren’t, andBobbie laughed at him.’

Ben didn’t flinch.‘Are you going to tell Mom?’ Eleanor asked.

May as well cut to the chase.‘We haven’t told her yet,’ Maisie said.‘Are you going to?’ Eleanor resisted the urge

to shove Maisie off the bed. Maisie would gonuclear.

‘He’ll make me leave, you know,’ Eleanorsaid fiercely. ‘If I’m lucky, that’s the worst that’llhappen.’

‘We’re not going to tell,’ Ben whispered.‘But it’s not fair,’ Maisie said, slumping

against the wall.

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‘What?’ Eleanor said.‘It’s not fair that you get to leave all the

time,’ Maisie said.‘What do you want me to do?’ Eleanor asked.

They both stared at her, desperate and almost …almost hopeful.

Everything anybody ever said in this housewas desperate.

Desperate was white noise, as far as Eleanorwas concerned – it was the hope that pulled at herheart with dirty little fingers.

She was pretty sure she was wired wrongsomewhere, that her plugs were switched, be-cause instead of softening toward them – insteadof tenderness – she felt herself go cold and mean.‘I can’t take you with me,’ she said, ‘if that’swhat you’re thinking.’

‘Why not?’ Ben said. ‘We’ll just hang outwith the other kids.’

‘There are no other kids,’ Eleanor said, ‘it’snot like that.’

‘You don’t care about us,’ Maisie said.

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‘I do care,’ Eleanor hissed. ‘I just can’t …help you.’

The door opened, and Mouse wandered in.‘Ben, Ben, Ben, where’s my car, Ben? Where’smy car? Ben?’ He jumped on Ben for no reason.Sometimes you didn’t know until after Mousejumped on you whether he was hugging you ortrying to kill you.

Ben tried to push Mouse off as quietly as hecould. Eleanor threw a book at him. (A paper-back. God.)

Mouse ran out of the room, and Eleanorleaned out of her bed to close the door. She couldpractically open her dresser without getting outof bed.

‘I can’t help you,’ she said. It felt like lettinggo of them in deep water. ‘I can’t even helpmyself.’

Maisie’s face was hard.‘Please don’t tell,’ Eleanor said.Maisie and Ben exchanged looks again, then

Maisie, still hard and gray, turned to Eleanor.

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‘Will you let us use your stuff?’‘What stuff?’ Eleanor asked.‘Your comics,’ Ben said.‘They’re not mine.’‘Your makeup,’ Maisie said.They’d probably catalogued her whole freak-

ing bed. Her grapefruit box was packed with con-traband these days, all of it from Park … Theywere already into everything, she was sure.

‘You have to put it away when you’re done,’Eleanor said. ‘And the comics aren’t mine, Ben,they’re borrowed. You have to keep them nice …

‘And if you get caught,’ she turned to Maisie,‘Mom will take it all away. Especially themakeup. None of us will have it then.’

They both nodded.‘I would have let you use some, anyway,’ she

said to Maisie. ‘You just had to ask.’‘Liar,’ Maisie said.And she was right.

Park

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Wednesdays were the worst.No Eleanor. And his dad ignored him all

through dinner and taekwando.Park wondered if it was just the eyeliner that

had done it – or if the eyeliner had been the pen-cil that broke the camel’s back. Like Park hadspent sixteen years acting weak and weird andgirlie, and his dad had borne it on his massiveshoulders. And then one day, Park put onmakeup, and that was it, his dad just shruggedhim off.

Your dad loves you, Eleanor said. And shewas right. But it didn’t matter. That was tablestakes. His dad loved him in a completely oblig-atory way, like Park loved Josh.

His dad couldn’t stand the sight of him.Park kept wearing eyeliner to school. And he

kept washing it off when he got home. And hisdad kept acting like he wasn’t there.

Eleanor

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It was just a matter of time now. If Maisie andBen knew, their mom would find out. Either thekids would tell her, or she’d find some clueEleanor had overlooked, or something … Itwould be something.

Eleanor didn’t have anywhere to hide hersecrets. In a box, on her bed. At Park’s house, ablock away.

She was running out of time with him.

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CHAPTER 39

Eleanor

Thursday night after dinner, Park’s grandmacame over to have her hair set, and his mom dis-appeared into the garage. His dad was messingwith the plumbing under the sink, replacing thegarbage disposal. Park was trying to tell Eleanorabout a tape he’d bought. Elvis Costello. Hecouldn’t shut up about it.

‘There are a couple songs you might like, bal-lady stuff. But the rest is really fast.’

‘Like punk?’ She wrinkled her nose. Shecould stand a few Dead Milkmen songs, but otherthan that, she hated Park’s punk music. ‘I feellike they’re yelling at me,’ she’d say when hetried to put punk on her mix tapes. ‘Stop yellingat me, Glenn Danzig!’

‘That’s Henry Rollins.’‘They all sound the same when they’re

yelling at me.’Lately, Park was really into New Wave mu-

sic. Or post-punk or something. He went throughbands like Eleanor went through books.

‘No,’ he said, ‘Elvis Costello is more music-al. Gentler. I’ll dub you a copy.’

‘Or you could just play it for me. Now.’Park tilted his head. ‘That would involve go-

ing into my room.’‘Okay,’ she said, not quite casually.‘Okay?’ he asked. ‘Months of no, and now,

okay?’‘Okay,’ Eleanor said. ‘You’re always saying

that your mom doesn’t care …’‘My mom doesn’t care.’‘So?’Park stood up jerkily, grinning, and pulled

her up. He stopped at the kitchen. ‘We’re goingto listen to music in my room.’

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‘Fine,’ his dad said from under the sink. ‘Justdon’t get anybody pregnant.’

That should have been embarrassing, butPark’s dad had a way of cutting past embarrass-ing. Eleanor wished he wasn’t ignoring them allthe time.

Park’s mom probably let him have girls in hisroom because you could practically see into hisroom from the living room, and you had to walkby to get to the bathroom.

But, to Eleanor, it still felt incredibly private.She couldn’t get over the fact that Park spent

most of his time in this room horizontal. (It wasonly a ninety-degree difference, but imagininghim that way blew all her fuses.) Also, hechanged his clothes in here.

There was no place to sit but on his bed,which Eleanor wouldn’t consider. So they satbetween his bed and his stereo, where there wasjust enough room to sit with their legs bent.

As soon as they sat down, Park started fast-forwarding through the Elvis Costello tape. He

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had stacks and stacks of tapes, and Eleanorpulled a few out to look at them.

‘Ah …’ Park said, pained.‘What?’‘Those’re alphabetized.’‘It’s okay. I know the alphabet.’‘Right.’ He looked embarrassed. ‘Sorry.

Whenever Cal comes over, he always messesthem up. Okay, this is the song I wanted you tohear. Listen.’

‘Cal comes over?’‘Yeah, sometimes.’ Park turned up the

volume. ‘It’s been a while.’‘Because now I just come over …’‘Which is okay with me because I like you a

lot more.’‘But don’t you miss your other friends?’ she

asked.‘You’re not listening,’ he said.‘Neither are you.’He paused the tape, like he didn’t want to

waste this song as background music. ‘Sorry,’ he

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said. ‘We’re talking about whether I miss Cal? Ieat lunch with him almost every day.’

‘And he doesn’t mind that you spend the restof your time with me now? None of your friendsmind?’

Park ran his hand through his hair. ‘I still seethem all at school … I don’t know, I don’t reallymiss them, I’ve never really missed anybody butyou.’

‘But you don’t miss me now,’ she said.‘We’re together all the time.’

‘Are you kidding? I miss you constantly.’Even though Park washed his face as soon as

he got home, the black around his eyes didn’tcome off completely. It made everything he didlately seem more dramatic.

‘That’s crazy,’ she said.Park started laughing. ‘I know …’She wanted to tell him about Maisie and Ben

and their days being numbered, etc., but hewouldn’t understand, and what did she expecthim to do?

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Park pushed play.‘What’s this song called?’ she asked.“‘Alison.”’

Park

Park played Elvis Costello for her – and JoeJackson, and Jonathan Richman and the ModernLovers.

She teased him because it was all so prettyand melodic, and ‘in the same phylum as Hall &Oates,’ and he threatened to evict her from hisroom.

When his mom came to check on them, theywere sitting with a hundred cassette tapesbetween them, and as soon as she walked away,Park leaned over and kissed Eleanor. It seemedlike the best time not to get caught.

She was a little too far away, so he put hishand on her back and pulled her toward him. Hetried to do it like it was something he did all the

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time, as if touching her someplace new wasn’tlike discovering the Northwest Passage.

Eleanor came closer. She put her hands onthe floor between them and leaned into him,which was so encouraging that he put his otherhand on her waist. And then it was too much tobe almost-but-not-really holding her. Park rockedforward onto his knees and pulled her tighter.

Half a dozen cassette tapes cracked undertheir weight. Eleanor fell back, and Park fellforward.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘Oh, God … look, whatwe did to Meat is Murder.’

Park sat back and looked at the tapes. Hewanted to sweep them out of the way. ‘It’smostly just the cases, I think,’ he said. ‘Don’tworry about it.’ He started picking up the brokenplastic.

‘The Smiths and the Smithereens …’ shesaid. ‘We even broke them in alphabetical order.’

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He tried to smile at her, but she wouldn’t lookat him. ‘I should go,’ she said. ‘I think it’s almosteight, anyway.’

‘Oh. Okay, I’ll walk you.’She stood up and Park followed her. They

walked outside and down the walk, and whenthey got to his grandparents’ driveway, Eleanordidn’t stop.

Eleanor

Maisie smelled like an Avon lady, and she wasmade up like the whore of Babylon. They weredefinitely going to get caught. Talk about a houseof effing cards. Jee. Zus.

And Eleanor couldn’t even think strategy, be-cause all she could think about was Park’s handson her waist and her back and her stomach –which all must feel like nothing he’d ever en-countered. Everyone in Park’s family was skinnyenough to be in a Special K commercial. Evenhis grandma.

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Eleanor could only be in that scene where theactress pinches an inch, then looks at the cameralike the world is going to end.

Actually, she’d have to lose weight to be inthat scene. You could pinch an inch – or two, orthree – all over Eleanor’s body. You could prob-ably pinch an inch on her forehead.

Holding hands was fine. Her hands weren’t acomplete embarrassment. And kissing seemedsafe because fat lips are okay – and because Parkusually closed his eyes.

But there was no safe place on Eleanor’storso. There was no place from her neck to herknees where she had any discernibleinfrastructure.

As soon as Park touched her waist, she’dsucked in her stomach and pitched forward.Which led to all the collateral damage … whichmade her feel like Godzilla. (But even Godzillawasn’t fat. He was just ginormous.)

The maddening part was, Eleanor wantedPark to touch her again. She wanted him to touch

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her constantly. Even if it led to Park deciding thatshe was way too much like a walrus to remain hisgirlfriend … That’s how good it felt. She waslike one of those dogs who’ve tasted humanblood and can’t stop biting. A walrus who’stasted human blood.

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CHAPTER 40

Eleanor

Park wanted Eleanor to start checking her booksnow, especially after gym class.

‘Because if it is Tina,’ he said – you couldtell that he still didn’t believe that it was, ‘youneed to tell somebody.’

‘Tell who?’ They were sitting in his room,leaning against his bed, trying to pretend thatPark didn’t have his arm around her for the firsttime since she crushed his cassette tapes. Justbarely, not quite around her.

‘You could tell Mrs Dunne,’ he said. ‘Shelikes you.’

‘Okay, so I tell Mrs Dunne, and I show herwhatever awful thing Tina has misspelled on mybooks – and then Mrs Dunne asks, “How do you

know that Tina wrote that?” She’ll be just asskeptical as you were, but without the complic-ated romantic history …’

‘There’s no complicated romantic history,’Park said.

‘Did you kiss her?’ Eleanor hadn’t meant toask that. Out loud. It was almost like she’d askedit so many times in her head that it leaked out.

‘Mrs Dunne? No. But we’ve hugged a lot.’‘You know what I mean … Did you kiss

her?’She was sure that he’d kissed her. She was

sure that they’d done other stuff, too. Tina was solittle, Park could probably wrap his arms all theway around her and shake his own hands at herwaist.

‘I don’t want to talk about this,’ he said.‘Because you did,’ Eleanor said.‘It doesn’t matter.’‘It does matter. Was it your first kiss?’‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘and that’s one of the reasons

it doesn’t count. It was like a practice pitch.’

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‘What are the other reasons?’‘It was Tina, I was twelve, I didn’t even like

girls yet …’‘But you’ll always remember it,’ she said. ‘It

was your first kiss.’‘I’ll remember that it didn’t matter,’ Park

said.Eleanor wanted to let this go – the most trust-

worthy voices in her head were shouting, ‘Let itgo!’

‘But …’ she said, ‘how could you kiss her?’‘I was twelve.’‘But she’s awful.’‘She was twelve, too.’‘But … how could you kiss her and then kiss

me?’‘I didn’t even know you existed.’ Park’s arm

suddenly made contact, full contact, with Elean-or’s waist. He pressed into her side, and she satup, instinctively, trying to spread herself thinner.

‘There aren’t even roads between Tina andme …’ she said. ‘How could you like us both?

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Did you have a life-changing head injury in juni-or high?’

Park put his other arm around her. ‘Please.Listen to me. It was nothing. It doesn’t matter.’

‘It matters,’ Eleanor whispered. Now that hisarms were around her, there was almost no spacebetween them. ‘Because you were the first personI ever kissed. And that matters.’

He set his forehead against hers. She didn’tknow what to do with her eyes or her hands.

‘Nothing before you counts,’ he said. ‘And Ican’t even imagine an after.’

She shook her head. ‘Don’t.’‘What?’‘Don’t talk about after.’‘I just meant that … I want to be the last per-

son who ever kisses you, too … That sounds bad,like a death threat or something. What I’m tryingto say is, you’re it. This is it for me.’

‘Don’t.’ She didn’t want him to talk like this.She’d meant to push him, but not this far.

‘Eleanor …’

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‘I don’t want to think about an after.’‘That’s what I’m saying, maybe there won’t

be one.’‘Of course there will.’ She put her hands on

his chest, so that she could push him away if shehad to. ‘I mean … God, of course there will. It’snot like we’re going to get married, Park.’

‘Not now.’‘Stop.’ She tried to roll her eyes, but it hurt.‘I’m not proposing,’ he said. ‘I’m just saying

… I love you. And I can’t imagine stopping …’She shook her head. ‘But you’re twelve.’‘I’m sixteen …’ he said. ‘Bono was fifteen

when he met his wife, and Robert Smith wasfourteen …’

‘Romeo, sweet Romeo …’‘It’s not like that, Eleanor, and you know it.’

Park’s arms were tight around her. All the play-fulness in his voice was gone. ‘There’s no reasonto think we’re going to stop loving each other,’he said. ‘And there’s every reason to think thatwe won’t.’

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I never said I loved you, Eleanor thought.And even after he kissed her, she kept her

hands on his chest.

So. Anyway. Park wanted her to start checkingher book covers. Especially after gym class. Sonow Eleanor waited until almost everybody elsehad changed and left the locker room, and thenshe carefully examined her books for anythingsuspicious.

It was all very clinical.DeNice and Beebi usually waited with her. It

meant that they were late for lunch sometimes,but it also meant that they could all change in rel-ative privacy, which they should have thought ofmonths ago.

There didn’t seem to be anything pervy writ-ten on Eleanor’s books today. In fact, Tina hadignored her all through class. Even Tina’ssidekicks (even thuggy Annette) seemed boredwith Eleanor.

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‘I think they’ve run out of ways to make funof my hair,’ Eleanor said to DeNice while shelooked over her algebra book.

‘They could call you “Ronald McDonald,”’DeNice said. ‘Have they called you that?’

‘Or “Wendy,”’ Beebi said, lowering her voiceand wolfing, ‘Where’s the beef?’

‘Shut up,’ Eleanor said, looking around thelocker room. ‘Little pitchers.’

‘They’re all gone,’ DeNice said.‘Everybody’s gone. They’re all in the cafeteria,eating my Macho Nachos. Hurry up, girl.’

‘You go ahead,’ Eleanor said. ‘Get us a placein line. I still have to change.’

‘All right,’ DeNice said, ‘but stop looking atthose books. You said it yourself, there’s nothingthere. Come on, Beebi.’

Eleanor started packing up her books. Sheheard Beebi shout, ‘Where’s the beef?’ from thelocker-room door. Dork. Eleanor opened up herlocker.

It was empty.

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Huh.She tried the one above it. Nothing. And

nothing below. No …Eleanor started over, opening all the lockers

on the wall, then moving on to the next wall, try-ing not to panic. Maybe they’d just moved herclothes. Ha. Funny. Super-good joke, Tina.

‘What are you doing?’ Mrs Burt asked.‘Looking for my clothes,’ Eleanor said.‘You should use the same locker every time,

so it’s easy to remember.’‘No, somebody … I mean, I think somebody

took them.’‘Those little bitches …’ Mrs Burt sighed.

Like she couldn’t imagine a bigger hassle.Mrs Burt started opening lockers at the other

end of the room. Eleanor checked the trash andthe showers. Then Mrs Burt called out from thebathroom. ‘Found them!’

Eleanor walked into the bathroom. The floorwas wet, and Mrs Burt was standing in a stall.

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‘I’ll get a bag,’ Mrs Burt said, pushing pastEleanor.

Eleanor looked down at the toilet. Eventhough she knew what she was going to see there,it still felt like a wet slap in the face. Her newjeans and her cowboy shirt were in a dark pile inthe bowl, and her shoes were crammed under thelip. Somebody had flushed the toilet, and therewas water still spilling over the edge. Eleanorwatched it run.

‘Here,’ Mrs Burt said, handing Eleanor a yel-low Food 4 Less bag. ‘Fish ’em out.’

‘I don’t want them,’ Eleanor said, backingaway. She couldn’t wear them anymore anyway.Everybody would know those were her toiletclothes.

‘Well, you can’t leave them here,’ Mrs Burtsaid. ‘Fish them out.’ Eleanor stared at herclothes. ‘Come on,’ Mrs Burt said.

Eleanor reached into the toilet and felt tearsslipping down her cheeks. Mrs Burt held the bag

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open. ‘You’ve got to stop letting them get to you,you know,’ she said. ‘You just encourage them.’

Yeah, thanks, Eleanor thought, wringing outher jeans over the toilet. She wanted to wipe hereyes, but her hands were wet.

Mrs Burt handed her the bag. ‘Come on,’ shesaid. ‘I’ll write you a pass.’

‘For where?’ Eleanor asked.‘Your counselor’s office.’Eleanor took a sharp breath. ‘I can’t walk

down the hall like this.’‘What do you want from me, Eleanor?’ That

was obviously a rhetorical question; Mrs Burtwasn’t even looking at her. Eleanor followed herto the coach’s office and waited for the pass.

As soon as she got out to the hallway, thetears came on hard. She couldn’t walk throughthe school like this – in her gymsuit. In front ofboys … And everybody. In front of Tina. God,Tina was probably selling tickets outside thecafeteria. Eleanor couldn’t do it. Not like this.

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It wasn’t just that her gymsuit was ugly.(Polyester. One-piece. Red-and-white stripeswith an extra-long white zipper.)

It was also extremely tight.The shorts just barely cleared her underwear,

and the fabric was stretched so tight over herchest, the seams were starting to pop under herarms.

She was a tragedy in that gymsuit. A ten-carpileup.

People were already showing up for the nextgym class. A few freshman girls looked at Elean-or, then started whispering. Her bag wasdripping.

Before she could think it through, Eleanorturned the wrong way down the hall and headedfor the door to the football field. She acted likeshe was supposed to be walking out of the build-ing in the middle of the day, like she was onsome kind of weeping/half-dressed/drippy-bagmission.

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The door clicked locked behind her, andEleanor crouched against it, letting herself fallapart. Just for a minute. God. God.

There was a trash can sitting right outside thedoor, and she got up and hurled the Food 4 Lessbag into it. She wiped her eyes with her gymsuit.Okay, she told herself, taking a deep breath, get ittogether. Don’t let them get to you. Those wereher new jeans in the trash. And her favoriteshoes. Her Vans. She walked over to the trashand shook her head, reaching down for the bag.Fuck you, Tina. Fuck you to the moon.

She took another deep breath and startedwalking.

There were no classrooms at this end of theschool, so at least no one was watching her. Shestuck close to the building, and when she turnedthe corner, she walked under a row of windows.She thought about walking right home, but thatmight be worse. It’d definitely be longer.

If she could just get to the front door, thecounselor’s offices were right inside. Mrs Dunne

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would help her. Mrs Dunne wouldn’t tell her notto cry.

The security guard at the front door acted likegirls were wandering in and out in their gymclothes all day long. He glanced at Eleanor’s passand waved her on.

Almost there, Eleanor thought. Don’t run, justa few more doors …

She really should have expected Park to walkthrough one of them.

Ever since the first day they’d met, Eleanorwas always seeing him in unexpected places. Itwas like their lives were overlapping lines, likethey had their own gravity. Usually, thatserendipity felt like the nicest thing the universehad ever done for her.

Park walked out of a door on the oppositeside of the hallway and stopped as soon as he sawher. She tried to look away, but she didn’t do itsoon enough. Park’s face turned red. He stared ather. She pulled down her shorts and stumbled

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forward, running the last few steps to the coun-selors’ offices.

‘You don’t have to go back there,’ her mom saidafter Eleanor had told her the whole story. (Al-most the whole story.)

Eleanor thought for a moment about whatshe’d do if she didn’t go back to school. Stayhere all day? And then what?

‘It’s okay,’ she said. Mrs Dunne had drivenEleanor home herself, and she’d promised tobring a padlock for her gym locker.

Eleanor’s mom dumped the yellow plasticbag into the bathtub and started rinsing out theclothes, wrinkling her nose, even though theydidn’t smell.

‘Girls are so mean …’ she said. ‘You’relucky to have one friend you can trust.’

Eleanor must have looked confused.‘Tina,’ her mom said. ‘You’re lucky to have

Tina.’Eleanor nodded.

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She stayed home that night. Even though itwas Friday, and Park’s family always watchedmovies and made popcorn in the air popper onFridays.

She couldn’t face him.All she’d see was the look on his face in the

hallway. She’d feel like she was still standingthere in her gymsuit.

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CHAPTER 41

Park

Park went to bed early. His mom kept botheringhim about Eleanor. ‘Where’s Eleanor tonight?’‘She running late?’ ‘You get in fight?’

Every time she said Eleanor’s name, Park felthis face go hot.

‘I can tell that something wrong,’ his momsaid at dinner. ‘Did you get in fight? Did youbreak up again?’

‘No,’ Park said. ‘I think maybe she wenthome sick. She wasn’t on the bus.’

‘I have a girlfriend now,’ Josh said, ‘can shestart coming over?’

‘No girlfriend,’ their mom said, ‘too young.’‘I’m almost thirteen!’

‘Sure,’ their dad said, ‘your girlfriend cancome over. If you’re willing to give up yourNintendo.’

‘What?’ Josh was stricken. ‘Why?’‘Because I said so,’ his dad said. ‘Is it a

deal?’‘No! No way,’ Josh said. ‘Does Park have to

give up Nintendo?’‘Yep. Is that okay with you, Park?’‘Fine.’‘I’m like Billy Jack,’ their dad said, ‘a warri-

or and a wise-man.’It wasn’t much of a conversation, but it was

the most his dad had said to Park in weeks.Maybe his dad had been bracing for the entireneighborhood to swarm the house with torchesand pitchforks as soon as they saw Park witheyeliner …

But almost nobody cared. Not even his grand-parents. (His grandma said he looked likeRudolph Valentino, and he heard his grandpa tell

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his dad, ‘You should have seen what kids lookedlike while you were in Korea.’)

‘I’m going to bed,’ Park said, standing upfrom the table. ‘I don’t feel well either.’

‘So if Park doesn’t get to play Nintendo any-more,’ Josh asked, ‘can I put it in my room?’

‘Park can play Nintendo whenever he wants,’their dad said.

‘God,’ Josh said, ‘everything you guys do isunfair.’

Park turned off his light and crawled onto hisbed. He lay on his back because he didn’t trusthis front. Or his hands, actually. Or his brain.

After he saw Eleanor today, it hadn’t oc-curred to him, not for at least an hour, to wonderwhy she was walking down the hall in her gym-suit. And it took him another hour to realize heshould have said something to her. He could havesaid, ‘Hey’ or ‘What’s going on?’ or ‘Are youOK?’ Instead he’d stared at her like he’d neverseen her before.

He felt like he’d never seen her before.

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It’s not like he hadn’t thought about it (a lot)– Eleanor under her clothes. But he could neverfill in any of the details. The only women hecould actually picture naked were the women inthe magazines his dad every once in a while re-membered to hide under his bed.

Magazines like that made Eleanor freak. Justmention Hugh Hefner, and she’d be off for halfan hour on prostitution and slavery and the Fallof Rome. Park hadn’t told her about his dad’stwenty-year-old Playboys, but he hadn’t touchedthem since he met her.

He could fill in some of the details now. Hecould picture Eleanor. He couldn’t stop picturingher. Why hadn’t he ever noticed how tight thosegymsuits were? And how short …

And why hadn’t he expected her to be sogrown up? To have so much negative space?

He closed his eyes and saw her again. A stackof freckled heart shapes, a perfectly made DairyQueen ice cream cone. Like Betty Boop drawnwith a heavy hand.

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Hey, he thought. What’s going on? Are youokay?

She must not be. She hadn’t been on the buson the way home. She hadn’t come over afterschool. And tomorrow was Saturday. What if hedidn’t see her all weekend?

How could he even look at her now? Hewouldn’t be able to. Not without stripping herdown to her gymsuit. Without thinking about thatlong white zipper.

Jesus.

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CHAPTER 42

Park

His family was going to the boat show the nextday, then out to lunch, and maybe to the mall …

Park took forever to eat his breakfast and takea shower.

‘Come on, Park,’ his dad said sharply, ‘getdressed and put your makeup on.’

Like he’d wear makeup to the boat show.‘Come on,’ his mom said, checking her lip-

stick in the hall mirror, ‘you know your dad hatecrowds.’

‘Do I have to go?’‘You don’t want to go?’ She scrunched and

fluffed the back of her hair.

‘No, I do,’ Park said. He didn’t. ‘But what ifEleanor comes over? I don’t want to miss thechance to talk to her.’

‘Is something wrong? You sure you didn’tfight?’

‘No, no fight. I’m just … worried about her.And you know I can’t call her house.’

His mom turned away from the mirror. ‘Okay…’ she said, frowning. ‘You stay. But vacuum,okay? And put away big pile of black clothes onyour floor.’

‘Thanks,’ Park said. He hugged her.‘Park! Mindy!’ His dad was standing at the

front door. ‘Let’s go!’‘Park staying home,’ his mom said. ‘We go.’His dad flashed him a look, but didn’t argue.

Park wasn’t used to being home alone. He vacu-umed. He put his clothes away. He made himselfa sandwich and watched a Young Ones marathonon MTV, then fell asleep on the couch.

When he heard the doorbell, he jerked up toanswer it before he was awake. His heart was

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pounding, the way it does sometimes when yousleep too hard in the middle of the day, like youcan’t remember how to wake up.

He was sure it was Eleanor. He opened thedoor without checking.

Eleanor

Their car wasn’t in the driveway, so Eleanorfigured Park’s family wasn’t home. They wereprobably off doing awesome family stuff. Eatinglunch at Bonanza and having their portraits takenin matching sweaters.

She’d already given up on the door when itopened. And before she could act embarrassedand uncomfortable about yesterday – or pretendthat she wasn’t – Park was opening the screendoor and pulling her in by her sleeve.

He didn’t even close the door before he puthis arms around her, his entire arms, all down thelength of her back.

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Park usually held Eleanor with his hands onher waist, like they were slow-dancing. Thiswasn’t slow-dancing. This was … somethingelse. His arms were around her, and his face wasin her hair, and there was no place for the rest ofher to go but against him.

He was warm … Like really warm and fuzzy-soft. Like a sleeping baby, she thought. (Sort of.Not exactly.)

She tried to feel embarrassed again.Park kicked the door closed and fell back on

it, pulling her even tighter. His hair was cleanand straight and flopping into his eyes, and hiseyes were nearly closed. Fuzzy. Soft.

‘Were you sleeping?’ she whispered. Like hestill might be.

He didn’t answer, but his mouth fell on hers,open, and her head fell back into his hand. Hewas holding her so close, there was nowhere tohide. She couldn’t sit up or suck in or keep anysecrets.

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Park made a noise, and it hummed in herthroat. She could feel all ten of his fingers. Onher neck, on her back … Her own hands hungstupidly at her side. Like they weren’t even in thesame scene as his. Like she wasn’t even in thesame scene.

Park must have noticed, because he pulled hismouth back. He tried to wipe it on the shoulderof his T-shirt, and he looked at her like he wasseeing her for the first time since she got there.

‘Hey …’ he said, taking a breath, focusing.‘What’s going on? Are you okay?’

Eleanor looked at Park’s face, so full ofsomething she couldn’t quite place. His chinhung forward, like his mouth didn’t want to pullaway from her, and his eyes were so green theycould turn carbon dioxide into oxygen.

He was touching her all the places she wasafraid to be touched …

Eleanor tried one last time to be embarrassed.

Park

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For a second, he thought he’d gone too far.He hadn’t even meant to, he was practically

sleepwalking. And he’d been thinking aboutEleanor, dreaming about her, for so many hours;wanting her made him stupid.

She was so still in his arms. He thought for asecond that he’d gone too far, that he’d tripped awire.

And then Eleanor touched him. She touchedhis neck.

It’s hard to say why this was different fromall the other times she’d touched him. She wasdifferent. She was still and then she wasn’t.

She touched his neck, then drew a line downhis chest. Park wished that he was taller andbroader; he hoped she wouldn’t stop.

She was so gentle compared to him. Maybeshe didn’t want him like he wanted her. But evenif she wanted him half as much …

Eleanor

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This is how she touched him in her head.From jaw to neck to shoulder.He was so much warmer than she expected,

and harder. Like all of his muscles and boneswere right on the surface, like his heart was beat-ing just under his T-shirt.

She touched Park softly, gingerly, just in caseshe touched him wrong.

Park

He relaxed against the door.He felt Eleanor’s hand on his throat, on his

chest, then took her other hand and pressed it tohis face. He made a noise like he was hurt anddecided to feel self-conscious about it later.

If he was shy now, he wouldn’t get anythingthat he wanted.

Eleanor

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Park was alive, and she was awake, and this wasallowed.

He was hers.To have and hold. Not forever, maybe – not

forever, for sure – and not figuratively. But liter-ally. And now. Now, he was hers. And he wantedher to touch him. He was like a cat who pushesits head under your hands.

Eleanor brought her hands down Park’s chestwith her fingertips apart, then brought them upagain under his shirt.

She did it because she wanted to. And be-cause once she started touching him the way shedid in her head, it was hard to stop. And because… what if she never had the chance to touch himlike this again?

Park

When he felt her fingers on his stomach, he madethe noise again. He held her to him and pushed

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forward, pushing Eleanor backward – stumblingaround the coffee table to the couch.

In movies, this happens smoothly or comic-ally. In Park’s living room, it was just awkward.They wouldn’t let go of each other, so Eleanorfell back, and Park fell against her in the cornerof the couch.

He wanted to look in her eyes, but it was hardwhen they were this close. ‘Eleanor …’ hewhispered.

She nodded.‘I love you,’ he said.She looked up at him, her eyes shiny and

black, then looked away. ‘I know,’ she said.He pulled one of his arms out from under her

and traced her outline against the couch. Hecould spend all day like this, running his handdown her ribs, into her waist, out to her hips andback again … If he had all day, he would. If sheweren’t made of so many other miracles.

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‘You know?’ he repeated. She smiled, so hekissed her. ‘You’re not the Han Solo in this rela-tionship, you know.’

‘I’m totally the Han Solo,’ she whispered. Itwas good to hear her. It was good to remember itwas Eleanor under all this new flesh.

‘Well, I’m not the Princess Leia,’ he said.‘Don’t get so hung up on gender roles,’

Eleanor said. Park ran his hand out to her hip andback again, catching his thumb under her sweat-er. She swallowed and lifted her chin.

He pulled her sweater up farther and, then,without thinking about why, he pulled up hisshirt, too, and laid his bare stomach against hers.

Eleanor’s face crumpled, and it made himcome unhinged.

‘You can be Han Solo,’ he said, kissing herthroat. ‘And I’ll be Boba Fett. I’ll cross the skyfor you.’

Eleanor

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Things she knew now, that she hadn’t known twohours ago:

Park was covered with skin. Everywhere.And it was all just as smooth and honey-beautiful as the skin on his hands. It feltthick and richer in some places, more likecrushed velvet than silk. But it was all his.And all wonderful.

She was also covered with skin. And herskin was apparently covered with super-powered nerve endings that hadn’t done adamn thing her whole life, but came alivelike ice and fire and bee stings as soon asPark touched her. Wherever Park touchedher.

As embarrassed as she was of her stomachand her freckles and the fact that her bra washeld together with two safety pins, shewanted Park to touch her more than shecould ever feel embarrassed. And when he

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touched her, he didn’t seem to care aboutany of those things. Some of them he evenliked. Like her freckles. He said she wascandy-sprinkled.

She wanted him to touch her everywhere.

He’d stopped at the edge of her bra and onlydipped his fingers into the back of her jeans – butit wasn’t Eleanor who stopped him. She neverwould. When Park touched her, it felt better thananything she’d ever felt in her whole life. Ever.And she wanted to feel that way as much shecould. She wanted to stock up on him.

Nothing was dirty. With Park.Nothing could be shameful.Because Park was the sun, and that was the

only way Eleanor could think to explain it.

Park

Once it started to get dark, he felt like his parentscould walk in at any minute, like they should

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have been home a long time ago – and he didn’twant them to find him like this, with his kneebetween Eleanor’s legs and his hand on her hipand his mouth as far as it could reach down theneck of her sweater.

He pulled away from her and tried to thinkclearly again. ‘Where are you going?’ she asked.

‘I don’t know. Nowhere … My parentsshould be home soon, we should get it together.’

‘Okay,’ she said, and sat up. But she lookedso bewildered and beautiful that he climbed backon top of her and pushed her all the way down.

A half-hour later, he tried again. He stood upthis time.

‘I’m going to the bathroom,’ he said.‘Go,’ she said. ‘Don’t look back.’He took a step, then looked back.‘I’ll go,’ she said a few minutes later.While she was gone, Park turned up the

volume on the TV. He got them both Cokes andlooked at the couch to see if it looked illicit. Itdidn’t seem to.

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When Eleanor came back, her face was wet.‘Did you wash your face?’‘Yeah …’ she said.‘Why?’‘Because I looked weird.’‘And you thought you could wash it off?’He gave her the same once-over he’d given

the couch. Her lips were swollen, and her eyesseemed wilder than usual. But Eleanor’s sweaterswere always stretched out, and her hair alwayslooked tangled.

‘You look fine,’ he said. ‘What about me?’She looked at him, and then smiled. ‘Good

…’ she said. ‘Just really, really good.’He held out his hand to her, and pulled her

onto the couch. Smoothly, this time.She sat next to him and looked down at her

lap.Park leaned against her. ‘It’s not going to be

weird now,’ he said, softly, ‘is it?’She shook her head and laughed. ‘No,’ she

said, and then, ‘only for a minute, only a little.’

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He’d never seen her face so open. Her browsweren’t pulled together, her nose wasn’tscrunched. He put his arm around her, and shelaid her head on his chest without any prompting.

‘Oh, look,’ she said, ‘The Young Ones.’‘Yeah … Hey. You still haven’t told me –

what was going on yesterday? When I saw you?What was wrong?’

She sighed. ‘I was on my way to MrsDunne’s office because somebody in gym tookmy clothes.’

‘Tina?’‘I don’t know, probably.’‘Jesus …’ he said, ‘that’s terrible.’‘It’s okay.’ She actually sounded like it was.‘Did you find them? Your clothes?’‘Yeah … I really, really don’t want to talk

about it.’‘Okay,’ he said.Eleanor pressed her cheek into his chest, and

Park hugged her. He wished that they could go

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through life like this. That he could physicallyput himself between Eleanor and the world.

Maybe Tina really was a monster.‘Park?’ Eleanor said. ‘Just one more thing. I

mean, can I ask you something?’‘You know you can ask me anything. We’ve

got a deal.’She set her hand over his heart. ‘Did … the

way you acted today have something to do withseeing me yesterday?’

He almost didn’t want to answer. Yesterday’sconfusing lust felt even more inappropriate nowthat he knew the upsetting backstory. ‘Yeah,’ hesaid quietly.

Eleanor didn’t say anything for a minute orso. And then …

‘Tina would be so pissed.’

Eleanor

When Park’s parents got home, they seemedgenuinely glad to see Eleanor. His dad had

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bought a new hunting rifle at the boat show, andhe tried to show her how it worked.

‘You can buy guns at a boat show?’ Eleanorasked.

‘You can buy anything at a boat show,’ hisdad said. ‘Anything worth having.’

‘Books?’ she asked.‘Books about guns and boats.’She stayed late because it was Saturday, and

on the way home she and Park stopped at hisgrandparents’ driveway, as usual.

But tonight Park didn’t lean over and kissher. Instead, he held her tight.

‘Do you think we’ll ever be alone like thatagain?’ she asked. She felt the tears in her eyes.

‘Ever? Yes. Soon? I don’t know …’She hugged him as hard as she could, and

then she walked home alone.

Richie was home and awake and watchingSaturday Night Live. Ben was asleep on the floor,and Maisie was sleeping next to Richie on thecouch.

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Eleanor would have gone straight to bed, butshe had to go to the bathroom. Which meantwalking between him and the TV. Twice.

When she got to the bathroom, she pulled herhair back tight and washed her face again. Shehurried back past the TV without looking up.

‘Where have you been?’ Richie asked.‘Where do you go all the time?’

‘To my friend’s house,’ Eleanor said. Shekept walking.

‘What friend?’‘Tina,’ Eleanor said. She put her hand on the

bedroom door.‘Tina,’ Richie said. There was a cigarette in

his mouth, and he was holding a can of Old Mil-waukee. ‘Tina’s house must be fucking Disney-land, huh? You can’t get enough.’

She waited.‘Eleanor?’ she heard her mom calling from

the bedroom. She sounded half asleep.

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‘So, what’d you spend your Christmas moneyon?’ Richie asked. ‘I told you to buy yourselfsomething nice.’

The bedroom door opened, and her mothercame out. She was wearing Richie’s bathrobe –one of those Asian souvenir robes, red satin, witha big gaudy tiger.

‘Eleanor,’ her mom said, ‘go to bed.’‘I was just asking Eleanor what she bought

with her Christmas money,’ Richie said.If Eleanor made something up now, he’d

want to see whatever it was. If she said shehadn’t spent the money, he might want it back.

‘A necklace,’ she said.‘A necklace,’ he repeated. He looked at her

blearily, like he was trying to come up withsomething awful to say, but he just took anotherdrink and leaned back in his chair.

‘Good night, Eleanor,’ her mom said.

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CHAPTER 43

Park

Park’s parents almost never fought, and whenthey did, it was always about him or Josh.

His parents had been arguing in their bed-room for more than an hour, and when it wastime to leave for Sunday dinner, their mom cameout and told the boys to go ahead without them.‘Tell Grandma I have headache.’

‘What did you do?’ Josh asked Park as theycut through the front lawn.

‘Nothing,’ Park said. ‘What did you do?’‘Nothing. It’s you. When I went to the bath-

room, I heard mom say your name.’But Park hadn’t done anything. Not since the

eyeliner – which he knew wasn’t dead, but it

seemed in remission. Maybe his parents knewsomehow about yesterday …

Even if they did, Park hadn’t done anythingwith Eleanor that he’d ever been explicitly toldnot to do. His mom never talked to him aboutthat kind of thing. And his dad hadn’t said any-thing more than ‘Don’t get anybody pregnant’since he told Park about sex in the fifth grade.(He’d told Josh at the same time, which wasinsulting.)

Anyway, they hadn’t gone that far. He hadn’ttouched her anywhere that you couldn’t show ontelevision. Even though he’d wanted to.

He wished now that he had. It might bemonths before they were alone again.

Eleanor

She went to Mrs Dunne’s office Monday morn-ing before class, and Mrs Dunne gave her a brandnew combination lock. It was hot pink.

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‘We talked to some of the girls in your class,’Mrs Dunne said, ‘but they all played dumb.We’re still going to get to the bottom of this, Ipromise.’

There is no bottom, Eleanor thought. There’sjust Tina.

‘It’s okay,’ she told Mrs Dunne. ‘It doesn’tmatter.’

Tina had watched Eleanor get on the bus thatmorning with her tongue on her top lip, like shewas waiting for Eleanor to spaz out – or like shewas trying to see whether Eleanor was wearingany toilet clothes. But Park was right there, prac-tically pulling Eleanor into his lap – so it waseasy to ignore Tina and everybody else. Helooked so cute this morning. Instead of his usualscary black band T-shirt, he was wearing a greenshirt that said ‘Kiss Me, I’m Irish.’

He walked with her to the counselors’ office,and told her that if anybody stole her clothestoday, she was to find him, immediately.

Nobody did.

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Beebi and DeNice had already heard aboutwhat happened from somebody in another class –which meant that the whole school knew. Theysaid they were never going to let Eleanor walkalone to lunch again, Macho Nachos be damned.

‘Those skanks need to know you havefriends,’ DeNice said.

‘Mmm-hmm,’ Beebi agreed.

Park

His mom was waiting in the Impala Monday af-ternoon when Park and Eleanor got off the bus.She rolled down the window.

‘Hi, Eleanor, sorry, but Park has errand torun. We see you tomorrow, okay?’

Sure,’ Eleanor said. She looked at him, andhe reached out to squeeze her hand as she walkedaway.

He got into the car. ‘Come on, come on,’ hismom said, ‘why you do everything so slow?Here.’ She handed him a brochure. State of

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Nebraska Driver’s Manual. ‘Practice test at end,’she said, ‘now buckle up.’

‘Where are we going?’ he asked.‘To get your driving license, dummy.’‘Does Dad know?’His mom sat on a pillow when she drove and

hung forward on the steering wheel. ‘He knows,but you don’t have to talk to him about it, okay?This is our business right now, you and me. Now,look at test. Not hard. I pass on first try.’

Park flipped to the back of the book andlooked at the practice exam. He’d studied thewhole manual when he turned fifteen and got hislearner’s permit.

‘Is Dad going to be mad at me?’ he asked.‘Whose business is this right now?’‘Ours,’ he said.‘You and me,’ she said.

Park passed the test on his first try. He even par-allel parked the Impala, which was like parallelparking a Star Destroyer. His mom wiped his

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eyelids with a Kleenex before he had his picturetaken.

She let him drive home. ‘So, if we don’t tellDad,’ Park asked, ‘does that mean I can’t everdrive?’ He wanted to drive Eleanor somewhere.Anywhere.

‘I work on it,’ his mom said. ‘Meantime, youhave your license if you need it. For emergency.’

That seemed like a pretty weak excuse to gethis license. Park had gone sixteen years without adriving emergency.

The next morning on the bus, Eleanor asked himwhat his big secret errand was, and he handed herhis license.

‘What?’ she said. ‘Look at you, look at this!’She didn’t want to give it back.‘I don’t have any pictures of you,’ she said.‘I’ll get you another one,’ he said.‘You will? Really?’‘You can have one of my school pictures. My

mom has tons.’

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‘You have to write something on the back,’she said.

‘Like what?’‘Like, “Hey, Eleanor, KIT, LYLAS, stay

sweet, Park.”’‘But I don’t L-Y like an S,’ he said. ‘And

you’re not sweet.’‘I’m sweet,’ she said, affronted, holding back

his license.‘No … you’re other good things,’ he said,

snatching it from her, ‘but not sweet.’‘Is this where you tell me that I’m a scoun-

drel, and I say that I think you like me becauseI’m a scoundrel? Because we’ve already coveredthis, I’m the Han Solo.’

‘I’m going to write, “For Eleanor, I love you.Park.”’

‘God, don’t write that, my mom might findit.’

Eleanor

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Park gave her a school picture. It was from Octo-ber, but he already looked so different now.Older. In the end, Eleanor hadn’t let him writeanything on the back because she didn’t wanthim to ruin it.

They hung out in his bedroom after dinner(Tater Tot casserole) and managed to sneakkisses while they looked through all of Park’s oldschool pictures. Seeing him as a little kid justmade her want to kiss him more. (Gross, butwhatever. As long as she didn’t want to kiss actu-al little kids, she wasn’t going to worry about it.)

When Park asked her for a picture, she wasrelieved that she didn’t have any to give him.

‘We’ll take one,’ he said.‘Um … okay.’‘Okay, cool, I’ll get my mom’s camera.’‘Now?’‘Why not now?’She didn’t have an answer.His mom was thrilled to take her picture. This

called for Makeover, Part II – which Park cut

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short, thank God, saying, ‘Mom, I want a photothat actually looks like Eleanor.’

His mom insisted on taking one of them to-gether, too, which Park didn’t mind at all. He puthis arm around her.

‘Shouldn’t we wait?’ Eleanor asked. ‘For aholiday or something more memorable?’

‘I want to remember tonight,’ Park said.He was such a dork sometimes.

Eleanor must have been acting too happy whenshe got home because her mom followed her tothe back of the house like she could smell it onher. (Happiness smelled like Park’s house. LikeSkin So Soft and all four food groups.)

‘Are you going to take a bath?’ her momasked.

‘Uh-huh.’‘I’ll watch the door for you.’Eleanor turned on the hot water and climbed

into the empty bath tub. It was so cold by theback door that the bath water started cooling off

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before the tub was even full. Eleanor took bathsin such a hurry she was usually done by then.

‘I ran into Eileen Benson at the store today,’her mom said. ‘Do you remember her fromchurch?’

‘I don’t think so,’ Eleanor said. Her familyhadn’t gone to church in three years.

‘She had a daughter your age – Tracy.’‘Maybe …’‘Well, she’s pregnant,’ her mom said. ‘And

Eileen’s a wreck. Tracy got involved with a boyin their neighborhood, a black boy. Eileen’s hus-band is having a fit.’

‘I don’t remember them,’ Eleanor said. Thetub was almost full enough to rinse her hair.

‘Well, it just made me think about how luckyI am,’ her mom said.

‘That you didn’t get involved with a blackguy?’

‘No,’ her mom said. ‘I’m talking about you.How lucky I am that you’re so smart about boys.’

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‘I’m not smart about boys,’ Eleanor said. Sherinsed her hair quickly, then stood up, coveringherself with a towel while she got dressed.

‘You’ve stayed away from them. That’ssmart.’

Eleanor pulled out the drain and carefullypicked up her dirty clothes. Park’s photo was inher back pocket, and she didn’t want it to get wet.Her mom was standing by the stove, watchingher.

‘Smarter than I ever was,’ her mom said.‘And braver. I haven’t been on my own since theeighth grade.’

Eleanor hugged her dirty jeans to her chest.‘You act like there are two kinds of girls,’ shesaid. ‘The smart ones and the ones that boyslike.’

‘That’s not far from the truth,’ her mom said,trying to put her hand on Eleanor’s shoulder.Eleanor took a step back. ‘You’ll see,’ her momsaid. ‘Wait until you’re older.’

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They both heard Richie’s truck pull into thedriveway.

Eleanor pushed past her mother and rushed toher bedroom. Ben and Mouse slipped in just be-hind her.

Eleanor couldn’t think of a place safe enough forPark’s photo, so she zipped it into the pocket ofher school bag. After she’d looked at it again andagain and again.

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CHAPTER 44

Eleanor

Wednesday night wasn’t the worst.Park had taekwando, but Eleanor still had

Park, the memory of him, everywhere. (Every-where he’d touched her felt untouchable. Every-where he’d touched her felt safe.)

Richie had to work late that night, so hermom made Totino’s Party Pizzas for dinner.They must have been on sale at Food 4 Less, be-cause the freezer was stuffed with them.

They watched Highway to Heaven while theyate. Then Eleanor sat with Maisie on the livingroom floor, and they tried to teach Mouse ‘DownDown Baby.’

It was hopeless. He could either rememberthe words or the clapping, but never both at once.

It drove Maisie crazy. ‘Start again,’ she keptsaying.

‘Come help us, Ben,’ Eleanor said, ‘it’s easierwith four.’

Down, down, baby, down by the rollercoaster.Sweet, sweet, baby, I’ll never let you go.Shimmy, shimmy, cocoa puff, shimmy . . .

‘Oh my God, Mouse. Right hand first – rightfirst. Okay. Start again …’

Down, down, baby . . .

‘Mouse!’

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CHAPTER 45

Park

‘I don’t feel like cooking dinner,’ his mom said.It was just the three of them, Park, his mom

and Eleanor, sitting on the couch, watchingWheel of Fortune. His dad had gone turkey hunt-ing and wouldn’t be home until late, and Joshwas staying over at a friend’s.

‘I could heat up a pizza,’ Park said.‘Or we could go get pizza,’ his mom said.Park looked at Eleanor; he didn’t know what

the rules were, as far as going out. Her eyes gotbig, and she shrugged.

‘Yeah,’ Park said, grinning, ‘let’s go getpizza.’

‘I feel too lazy,’ his mom said. ‘You andEleanor go get pizza.’

‘You want me to drive?’‘Sure,’ his mom said. ‘You too scared?’Jeez, now his mom was calling him a pussy.‘No, I can drive. Do you want Pizza Hut?

Should we call it in first?’‘You go where you want,’ his mom said. ‘I’m

not even very hungry. You go. Eat dinner. Seemovie or something.’

He and Eleanor both stared at her.‘Are you sure?’ he asked.‘Yeah, go,’ she said, ‘I never get house to

myself.’She was home all day, every day by herself,

but Park decided not to mention it. He and Elean-or stood up cautiously from the couch. Like theywere expecting his mom to say ‘April fools!’ twoweeks late.

‘Keys on hook,’ she said. ‘Hand me mypurse.’ She gave him twenty dollars from herwallet, and then ten more.

‘Thanks …’ Park said, still hesitant. ‘I guesswe’ll go now?’

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‘Not yet …’ His mom looked at Eleanor’sclothes and frowned. ‘Eleanor can’t go out likethat.’ If they wore the same size, she’d be forcingEleanor into a stonewashed miniskirt about now.

‘But I’ve looked like this all day,’ Eleanorsaid. She was wearing army surplus pants and ashort-sleeved men’s shirt over some kind of long-sleeved purple T-shirt. Park thought she lookedcool. (He actually thought she looked adorable,but that word would make Eleanor gag.)

‘Just let me fix your hair,’ his mom said. Shepulled Eleanor into the bathroom and startedpulling bobby pins out of her hair. ‘Down, down,down,’ she said.

Park leaned against the doorway andwatched.

‘It’s weird that you’re watching this,’ Eleanorsaid.

‘It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,’ he said.‘Park probably help me do your hair on wed-

ding day,’ his mom said.

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He and Eleanor both looked at the floor. ‘I’llwait for you in the living room,’ he said.

In a few minutes, she was ready. Her hairlooked perfect, every curl shiny and on purpose,and her lips were a glossy pink. He could tellfrom here that she’d taste like strawberries.

‘Okay,’ his mom said, ‘go. Have fun.’They walked out to the Impala, and Park

opened the door for Eleanor. ‘I can open my owndoor,’ she said. And by the time he got to hisside, she’d leaned over the seat and pushed hisdoor open.

‘Where should we go?’ he asked.‘I don’t know,’ she said, sinking down in her

seat. ‘Can we just get out of the neighborhood? Ifeel like I’m sneaking across the Berlin Wall.’

‘Oh,’ he said, ‘yeah.’ He started the car andlooked over at her. ‘Get down more. Your hairglows in the dark.’

‘Thanks.’‘You know what I mean.’

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He started driving west. There was nothingeast of the Flats but the river.

‘Don’t drive by the Rail,’ she said.‘The what?’‘Turn right here.’‘Okay …’He looked down at her – she was crouching

on the floor – and laughed.‘It’s not funny.’‘It’s kind of funny,’ he said. ‘You’re on the

floor, and I’m only getting to drive because mydad’s out of town.’

‘Your dad wants you to drive. All you have todo is learn how to drive a stick.’

‘I already know how to drive a stick.’‘Then what’s the problem?’‘The problem is me,’ he said, feeling irritated.

‘Hey, we’re out of the neighborhood, can you situp now?’

‘I’ll sit up when we get to Twenty-fourthStreet.’

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She sat up at 24th Street, but they didn’t talkagain until 42nd.

‘Where are we going?’ she asked.‘I don’t know,’ he said. He really didn’t. He

knew how to get to school and how to get down-town, and that was it. ‘Where do you want togo?’

‘I don’t know,’ she said.

Eleanor

She wanted to go to Inspiration Point. Which, asfar as she knew, only existed on Happy Days.

And she didn’t want to say to Park, ‘Hey,where do you kids go when you want to fog upthe windows?’ Because, what would he think ofher? And what if he had an answer?

Eleanor was trying really hard not be over-awed by Park’s driving skills, but every time hechanged lanes or checked the rearview mirror,she caught herself swooning. He might as well be

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lighting a cigarette or ordering a Scotch on therocks, it made him seem so much older …

Eleanor didn’t have her learner’s permit. Hermom wasn’t even allowed to drive, so gettingEleanor’s license wasn’t a priority.

‘Do we have to go somewhere?’ she asked.‘Well, we have to go somewhere …’ Park

said.‘But do we have to do something?’‘What do you mean?’‘Can’t we just go somewhere and be togeth-

er? Where do people go to be together? I don’teven care if we get out of the car …’

He looked over at her, then looked back,nervously, at the road. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Yeah.Yeah, just let me …’

He pulled into a parking lot and turnedaround.

‘We’ll go downtown.’

Park

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They did get out of the car. Once they weredowntown, Park wanted to show Eleanor DrasticPlastic and the Antiquarium and all the other re-cord stores. She’d never even been to the OldMarket, which was practically the only place togo in Omaha.

There were a bunch of other kids hanging outdowntown, a lot of them looking much weirderthan Eleanor. Park took her to his favorite pizzaplace. And then his favorite ice cream place. Andhis third favorite comic book shop.

He kept pretending that they were on a realdate, and then he’d remember that they were.

Eleanor

Park held her hand the whole night, like he washer boyfriend. Because he is your boyfriend,dummy, she kept telling herself.

Much to the dismay of the girl working at therecord store. She had eight holes in each ear, andshe clearly thought Park was a whole closet full

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of cat’s pajamas. The girl looked at Eleanor like,are you kidding me? And Eleanor looked backlike, I know, right?

They walked down every street of the Marketarea, and then across the street, into a park.Eleanor didn’t even know all this existed. Shehadn’t realized Omaha could be such a nice placeto live. (In her head, this was Park’s doing, too.The world rebuilt itself into a better place aroundhim.)

Park

They ended up at Central Park. Omaha’s version.Eleanor had never been here before either, andeven though it was wet and muddy and still kindof cold, she kept saying how nice it was.

‘Oh, look,’ she said. ‘Swans.’‘I think those are geese,’ he said.‘Well, they’re the best-looking geese I’ve

ever seen.’

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They sat on one of the park benches andwatched the geese settle in on the bank of themanmade lake. Park put his arm around Eleanorand felt her lean against him.

‘Let’s keep doing this,’ he said.‘What?’‘Going out.’‘Okay,’ she said. She didn’t say anything

about him learning how to drive a manual trans-mission. Which he appreciated.

‘We should go to prom,’ he said.‘What?’ She lifted up her head.‘Prom. You know, prom.’‘I know what it is, but why would we go

there?’Because he wanted to see Eleanor in a pretty

dress. Because he wanted to help his mom do herhair.

‘Because it’s prom,’ he said.‘And it’s lame,’ she said.‘How do you know?’

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‘Because the theme is “I Want to Know WhatLove Is.”

‘That’s not such a bad song,’ he said.‘Are you drunk, it’s Foreigner.’Park shrugged and pulled one of her curls

straight. ‘I know that prom is lame,’ he said. ‘Butit’s not something you can go back and do. Youonly get one chance.’

‘Actually, you get three chances …’‘Okay, will you go to prom with me next

year?’She started laughing. ‘Yeah,’ she said, ‘sure.

We can go next year. That will give my mouseand bird friends plenty of time to make me adress. Totally. Yes. Let’s go to prom.’

‘You think it’s never going to happen,’ hesaid. ‘You’ll see. I’m not going anywhere.’

‘Not until you learn how to drive a stick.’She was relentless.

Eleanor

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Prom. Right. That was going to happen.The amount of chicanery it would take to slip

prom past her mother … it boggled the mind.Though now that Park had suggested it,

Eleanor could almost see it working. She couldtell her mom that she was going to prom withTina. (Good old Tina.) And she could get readyat Park’s house, his mom would love that. Theonly thing Eleanor would have to figure out wasthe dress …

Did they even make prom dresses in her size?She’d have to shop in the mother-of-the-bridesection. And she’d have to rob a bank. Seriously.Even if a hundred-dollar bill fell right out of thesky, Eleanor could never spend it on somethingas stupid as a prom dress.

She’d spend it on new Vans. Or a decent bra.Or a boom box …

Actually, she’d probably just give it to hermom.

Prom. As if.

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Park

After she’d agreed to go to next year’s prom withhim, Eleanor also agreed to accompany Park tohis first cotillion, the Academy Awards after-party, and any and all ‘balls’ to which he re-ceived invitations.

She giggled so much, the geese complained.‘Go on and honk,’ Eleanor said. ‘You think

you can intimidate me with your swanlike goodlooks, but I’m not that kind of girl.’

‘Lucky for me,’ Park said.‘Why is that lucky for you?’‘Never mind.’ He wished he hadn’t said it.

He’d meant to be funny and self-deprecating, buthe didn’t actually want to talk about how shemanaged to be attracted to him.

Eleanor was studying him coolly.‘You’re the reason that goose thinks I’m shal-

low,’ she said.‘I think it’s a gander, right?’ Park said. ‘The

males are ganders?’

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‘Oh, right, gander. That suits him. Pretty boy… So, why is that lucky for you?’

‘Because,’ he said, like both syllables hurt.‘Because, why?’ she asked.‘Isn’t that my line?’‘I thought I could you ask you anything …’

she said. ‘Because, why?’‘Because of my all-American good looks.’

He ran his hand through his hair and lookeddown at the mud.

‘Are you saying that you’re not good-look-ing?’ she asked.

‘I don’t want to talk about this,’ Park said,hanging onto the back of his neck. ‘Can we goback to talking about prom?

‘Are you saying it just so that I’ll tell youhow cute you are?’

‘No,’ he said. ‘I’m saying it because it’s kindof obvious.’

‘It’s not obvious,’ Eleanor said. She turnedon the bench so she was facing him, and pulledhis hand down.

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‘Nobody thinks Asian guys are hot,’ Parksaid finally. He had to look away from her whenhe said it – way away, he turned his head com-pletely. ‘Not here, anyway. I assume Asian guysdo all right in Asia.’

‘That’s not true,’ Eleanor argued. ‘Look atyour mom and dad …’

‘Asian girls are different. White guys thinkthey’re exotic.’

‘But …’‘Are you trying to come up with a super-hot

Asian guy, so you can prove me wrong? Becausethere aren’t any. I’ve had my whole life to thinkabout this.’

Eleanor folded her arms. Park looked out atthe lake.

‘What about that old TV show,’ she said,‘with the karate guy?’

‘Kung Fu?’‘Yeah.’‘That actor was white, and that character was

a monk.’

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‘What about …’‘There aren’t any,’ Park said. ‘Look at

M*A*S*H. The whole show takes place in Korea,and the doctors are always flirting with Koreangirls, right? But the nurses don’t use their R&Rto go to Seoul to pick up hot Korean guys.Everything that makes Asian girls seem exoticmakes Asian guys seem like girls.’

The gander was still honking at them. Parkpicked up a chunk of melting snow and tossed ithalf-heartedly in the goose’s direction. He stillcouldn’t look at Eleanor.

‘I don’t know what any of that has to do withme,’ she said.

‘It has everything to do with me,’ heanswered.

‘No.’ She put her hand on his chin and madehim face her. ‘It doesn’t … I don’t even knowwhat it means that you’re Korean.’

‘Beyond the obvious?’‘Yeah,’ she said, ‘exactly. Beyond the

obvious.’

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Then she kissed him. He loved it when shekissed him first.

‘When I look at you,’ she said, leaning intohim, ‘I don’t know if I’m thinking you’re cutebecause you’re Korean, but I don’t think it’s inspite of it. I just know that I think you’re cute.Like, so cute, Park …’

He loved it when she said his name.‘Maybe I’m really attracted to Korean guys,’

she said, ‘and I don’t even know it.’‘Good thing I’m the only Korean guy in

Omaha,’ he said.‘And good thing I’m never getting out of this

dump.’It was getting cold, and probably late; Park

wasn’t wearing a watch.He stood up and pulled Eleanor to her feet.

They held hands and cut through the park to getto the car.

‘I don’t even know what it means to beKorean,’ he said.

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‘Well, I don’t know what it means to be Dan-ish and Scottish,’ she said. ‘Does it matter?’

‘I think so,’ he said, ‘because it’s the number-one thing people use to identify me. It’s my mainthing.’

‘I’m telling you,’ she said, ‘I think your mainthing might be that you’re cute. You’re practic-ally adorable.’

Park didn’t mind the word adorable.

Eleanor

They’d parked on the far side of the Market, andthe lot was mostly empty by the time they gotback. Eleanor felt tense and reckless again.Maybe it was something about this car …

The Impala might not look pervy on the out-side, not like a fully carpeted custom van orsomething – but the inside was a different story.The front seat was almost as big as Eleanor’sbed, and the back seat was an Erica Jong noveljust waiting to happen.

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Park opened the door for her, then ran aroundthe car to get in. ‘It’s not as late as I thought,’ hesaid, looking at the clock on the dash. 8:30.

‘Yeah …’ she said. She put her hand down onthe seat between them. She tried to do it casually,but it came off pretty obvious.

Park laid his hand on top of hers.It was just that kind of night. Every time she

looked at him, he was looking back at her. Everytime she thought about kissing him, he wasalready closing his eyes.

Read my mind now, she thought.‘Are you hungry?’ he asked.‘No,’ she said.‘Okay.’ Park took his hand away and put the

key in the ignition. Eleanor reached up andcaught his sleeve before he could turn it.

He dropped the keys and, all in one motion,he turned and scooped her into his arms. Seri-ously, scooped. He was always stronger than sheexpected him to be.

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If you were watching them now (and youtotally could because the windows weren’tfogged over yet) you’d think that Eleanor andPark did this kind of thing all the time. Not justthe once before.

This time was already different.They weren’t moving forward in orderly

steps, like a game of Mother May I? They wer-en’t even kissing each other square on the mouth.(Lining things up neatly would take too long.)Eleanor climbed up his shirt, climbing on top ofhim. And Park kept pulling her to him, evenwhen she couldn’t come any closer.

She was wedged between Park and the steer-ing wheel, and when he pushed his hand up hershirt, she leaned against the horn. They bothjumped, and Park accidentally bit her tongue.

‘Are you okay?’ he asked.‘Yeah,’ she said, glad that he didn’t pull his

hand away. Her tongue didn’t seem to be bleed-ing. ‘You?’

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‘Yeah …’ He was breathing heavy, and itwas wonderful. I did this to him, she told herself.

‘Do you think …’ he said.‘What?’ He probably thought they should

stop. No, she thought, no, I don’t think. Don’tthink, Park.

‘Do you think we should … don’t think I’m acreep, okay? Do you think we should get in theback seat?’

She pushed off of him and slid over the backseat. God, it was huge, it was glorious.

Not even a second later, Park landed on topof her.

Park

She felt so good underneath, even better thanhe’d expected. (And he’d expected her to feellike heaven, plus nirvana, plus that scene in WillyWonka where Charlie starts to fly.) Park wasbreathing so hard, he couldn’t get any air.

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It seemed impossible that this could feel asgood to Eleanor as it did to him – but she wasmaking these faces … She looked like a girl in aPrince video. If Eleanor was feeling anything likewhat he was feeling, how were they ever sup-posed to stop?

He pulled her shirt up over her head.‘Bruce Lee,’ she whispered.‘What?’ That didn’t seem right. Park’s hands

froze.‘Super-hot Asian guy. Bruce Lee.’‘Oh …’ He laughed, he couldn’t help it.

‘Okay. I’ll give you Bruce Lee …’She arched her back and he closed his eyes.

He’d never get enough of her.

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CHAPTER 46

Eleanor

Richie’s truck was in the driveway, but the wholehouse was dark, thank God. Eleanor was sure thatsomething would give her away. Her hair. Hershirt. Her mouth. She felt radioactive.

She and Park had been sitting in the alley fora while, in the front seat, just holding hands andfeeling whiplashed. At least, that’s how Eleanorfelt. It wasn’t that she and Park had gone too far,necessarily – but they’d gone a whole lot fartherthan she’d been prepared for. She’d never expec-ted to have a love scene straight out of a JudyBlume book.

Park must be feeling strange, too. He satthrough two Bon Jovi songs without even

touching the radio. Eleanor had left a mark on hisshoulder, but you couldn’t see it anymore.

This was her mom’s fault.If Eleanor were allowed to have normal rela-

tionships with boys, she wouldn’t have felt likeshe had to hit a home run the very first time sheended up in the back seat of a car – she wouldn’thave felt like it might be her only time at bat.(And she wouldn’t be making these stupid base-ball metaphors.)

It hadn’t been a home run, anyway. They’dstopped at second base. (At least, she thought itwas second base. She’d heard conflicting defini-tions for the bases.) Still …

It was wonderful.So wonderful that she wasn’t sure how they’d

survive never doing it again.‘I should go in,’ she said to Park, after they’d

been sitting in the car a half-hour or more. ‘I’musually home by now.’

He nodded but didn’t look up or let go of herhand.

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‘Okay,’ she said. ‘We’re … okay, right?’He looked up then. His hair had flattened out,

and it fell in his eyes. He looked concerned.‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Oh. Yeah. I’m just …’

She waited.He closed his eyes and shook his head, like

he was embarrassed.‘I … just really don’t want to say goodbye to

you, Eleanor. Ever.’He opened his eyes and looked straight into

her. Maybe this was third base.She swallowed. ‘You don’t have to say good-

bye to me ever,’ she said. ‘Just tonight.’Park smiled. Then he raised an eyebrow.

Eleanor wished she could do that.‘Tonight …’ he said, ‘but not ever?’She rolled her eyes. She was talking like him

now. Like an idiot. She hoped it was too dark inthe alley for him to see her blush.

‘Goodbye,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘I’llsee you tomorrow.’ She opened the door to theImpala; it weighed as much as a horse. Then she

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stopped and looked back at him. ‘But we’re okay,right?’

‘We’re perfect,’ he said, leaning forwardquickly and kissing her cheek. ‘I’ll wait for youto get in.’

As soon as Eleanor slipped in the house, shecould hear them fighting.

Richie was yelling about something, and hermom was crying. Eleanor moved toward her bed-room as quietly as she could.

All the little kids were on the floor, evenMaisie. They were sleeping through the chaos. Iwonder how often I sleep through it. Eleanorthought. She managed to swing onto her bedwithout stepping on anybody, but she landed onthe cat. He squawked, and she pulled him up andonto her lap. ‘Shhh,’ she breathed, scratching hisneck.

Richie shouted again – ‘my house’– andEleanor and the cat both jumped. Somethingcrunched beneath her.

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She reached under her leg and pulled out abadly crumpled comic book. An X-Men annual.Damn it, Ben. She tried to smooth the comic outon her lap, but it was covered in some goop. Theblanket felt wet, too, it was lotion or something… No, liquid makeup. With little bits of brokenglass. Eleanor carefully picked a shard out of thecat’s tail and set it aside, then wiped her wet fin-gers on his fur. A length of oily-brown cassettetape was wrapped around his leg. Eleanor pulledit free. She looked down the bed and blinked un-til her eyes adjusted to the dark …

Torn comic book pages.Powder.Little pools of green eyeshadow …Miles of cassette tape.Her headphones were snapped in half and

hanging from the edge of the bunk. Hergrapefruit box was at the end of the bed, andEleanor knew before she reached for it that itwould be light as air. Empty. The lid was rippedalmost in half, and someone had written on it in

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bold black marker – with one of Eleanor’smarkers.

do you think you can make a fool of me?this is my house do you think you can horearound my neighborhood right under mynose and i’m not going to find out is thatwhat you think? i know what you are and itsover’

Eleanor stared at the lid and struggled to makethe letters into words – but she couldn’t get pastthe familiar spill of lowercase letters.

Somewhere in the house her mother was cry-ing like she was never going to stop.

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CHAPTER 47

Eleanor

Eleanor considered her options.1.

CHAPTER 48

Eleanor

do i make you wet?She pulled back the soiled blanket and set the

cat on the clean sheet underneath. Then sheclimbed from the top bunk to the bottom. Herbookbag was sitting by the door. Eleanor un-zipped it without getting off the bed and tookPark’s photo out of the side pocket. Then she wasout the window and on the porch and runningdown the street faster than she’d ever run in gymclass.

She didn’t slow down until she was on thenext block, and then only because she didn’tknow where to go. She was almost to Park’shouse – she couldn’t go to Park’s house.

pop that cherry

‘Hey, Red.’Eleanor ignored the girl’s voice. She looked

back at the street. What if somebody had heardher leave the house? What if Richie came afterher? She stepped off the sidewalk into someone’syard. Behind a tree.

‘Hey. Eleanor.’Eleanor looked around. She was standing in

front of Steve’s house. The garage door wasmostly closed, propped open with a baseball bat.Eleanor could see someone moving inside, andTina was walking down the driveway, holding abeer.

‘Hey,’ Tina hissed. She looked as disgustedwith Eleanor as ever. Eleanor thought about run-ning again, but her legs felt weak.

‘Your stepdad’s been looking for you,’ Tinasaid. ‘He’s been driving around the neighborhoodall goddamn night.’

‘What did you tell him?’ Eleanor said. DidTina do this? Is that how he knew?

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‘I asked him if his dick was bigger than histruck,’ Tina said. ‘I didn’t tell him anything.’

‘Did you tell him about Park?’Tina narrowed her eyes. Then shook her

head. ‘But somebody’s going to.’suck me offEleanor looked back at the street. She had to

hide. She had to get away from him.‘What’s wrong with you anyway?’ Tina

asked.‘Nothing.’ A pair of headlights stopped at the

end of the block. Eleanor put her arms over herhead.

‘Come on,’ Tina said, in a voice Eleanor hadnever heard before – concerned. ‘You just needto stay out of his way until he cools off.’

Eleanor followed Tina up the driveway,crouching to get into the hazy, dark garage.

‘Is that Big Red?’ Steve was sitting on acouch. Mikey was there, too, on the floor, withone of the girls from the bus. There was hessian

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music, Black Sabbath, coming from a car up onblocks in the middle of the garage.

‘Sit down,’ Tina said, pointing to the otherend of the couch.

‘You’re in trouble, Big Red,’ Steve said.‘Your daddy’s looking for you.’ Steve was grin-ning from ear to ear. His mouth was bigger than alion’s.

‘It’s her stepdad,’ Tina said.‘Stepdad,’ Steve shouted, throwing a beer can

across the garage. ‘Your fucking stepdad? Doyou want me to kill him for you? I’m gonna killTina’s anyway. I could get them both in the sameday. Buy one, get one …’ He giggled. ‘Buy one,get one … free.’

Tina opened a beer and shoved it into Elean-or’s lap. Eleanor took it, just to have somethingto hold. ‘Drink up,’ Tina said.

Eleanor took a sip obediently. It tasted sharpand yellow.

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‘We should play quarters,’ Steve slurred.‘Hey, Red, do you have any quarters?’ Eleanorshook her head.

Tina perched next to him on the arm of thecouch and lit a cigarette. ‘We had quarters,’ shesaid. ‘We spent them on beer, remember?’

‘Those weren’t quarters,’ Steve said. ‘Thatwas a ten.’

Tina closed her eyes and blew smoke at theceiling.

Eleanor closed her eyes, too. She tried tothink about what she should do next, but nothingcame to her. The music on the car radio switchedfrom Sabbath to ACDC to Zeppelin. Steve sangalong; his voice was surprisingly light. ‘Hang-man, hangman, turn your head a while …’

Eleanor listened to Steve sing song after songover the wet hammer of her heartbeat. The beercan went warm in her hand.

i know your a slut you smell like cumShe stood up. ‘I’ve got to get out of here.’

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‘God,’ Tina said, ‘relax. He won’t find youhere. He’s probably already at the Rail drinking itoff.’

‘No,’ Eleanor said. ‘He’s going to kill me.’It was true, she realized, even if it wasn’t.Tina’s face was hard. ‘So, where you gonna

go?’‘Away … I have to tell Park.’

Park

Park couldn’t sleep.That night, before they’d climbed back into

the front seat of the Impala, he’d taken off all ofEleanor’s layers and even unpinned her bra –then laid her down on the blue upholstery. She’dlooked like a vision there, a mermaid. Cool whitein the darkness, the freckles gathered on hershoulders and cheeks like cream rising to the top.

The sight of her. She still glowed on the in-side of his eyelids.

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It was going to be constant torture now thathe knew what she was like under her clothes –and there wasn’t a next time in their near future.Tonight was another fluke, a lucky break, a gift…

‘Park,’ someone said.Park sat up in bed and looked around dumbly.‘Park.’ There was a knock at the window,

and he scrambled over to it, pulling back thecurtain.

It was Steve. Right behind the glass, grinninglike a maniac. He must be hanging from the win-dow ledge. Steve’s face disappeared, and Parkheard him fall heavily onto the ground. That as-shole. Park’s mom was going to hear him.

Park opened the window quickly and leanedout. He was going to tell Steve to go away, butthen he saw Eleanor standing in the shadow ofSteve’s house with Tina.

Were they holding her hostage?Was she holding a beer?

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Eleanor

As soon as Park saw her, he climbed out the win-dow and hung four feet from the ground – he wasgoing to break his ankles. Eleanor felt a sob catchin her throat.

He landed in a crouch like Spider-Man andran toward her. She dropped the beer on thegrass.

‘Jesus,’ Tina said. ‘You’re welcome. Thatwas the last beer.’

‘Hey, Park, did I scare you?’ Steve asked.‘Did you think I was Freddy Krueger? You thinkyou was gonna get away from me?’

Park got to Eleanor and took her arms.‘What’s wrong?’ he asked. ‘What’s going on?’

She started to cry. Like, majorly cry. She feltlike herself again as soon as he touched her, andit was horrible.

‘Are you bleeding?’ Park asked, taking herhand.

‘Car,’ Tina whispered.

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Eleanor pulled Park against the garage untilthe headlights had passed. ‘What’s going on?’ heasked again.

‘We should get back to the garage,’ Tina said.

Park

He hadn’t been in Steve’s garage since gradeschool. They used to play foosball in here. Nowthere was the Camaro up on blocks and an oldcouch pushed against the wall.

Steve sat at one end of the couch and imme-diately lit a joint. He held it out to Park, but Parkshook his head. The garage already smelled like athousand joints had been smoked in here, thenput out in a thousand beers. The Camaro wasrocking a little bit and Steve kicked the door.‘Settle down, Mikey, you’re gonna knock itover.’

Park couldn’t even imagine a turn of eventsthat would have led Eleanor here – but she’dpractically dragged him into the garage, and now

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she was huddled against him. Park still thoughtmaybe they’d kidnapped her. Was he supposed topay ransom?

‘Talk to me,’ he said to the top of Eleanor’shead. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Her stepdad is looking for her,’ Tina said.Tina was sitting on the arm of the couch with herlegs in Steve’s lap. She took the joint from him.

‘Is that true?’ Park asked Eleanor. She nod-ded into his chest. She wouldn’t let him pull farenough away that he could look at her.

‘Fucking stepdads,’ Steve said. ‘Motherfuck-ers, all of them.’ He burst into laughter. ‘Oh,fuck, Mikey, did you hear that?’ He kicked theCamaro again. ‘Mikey?’

‘I have to leave,’ Eleanor whispered.Thank God. Park backed away from her and

took her hand. ‘Hey, Steve, we’re going back tomy house.’

‘Be careful, man, he’s been driving around inthat shit-colored Micro Machine …’

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Park bent to clear the garage door. Eleanorstopped behind him. ‘Thank you,’ she said – hewould swear that she was talking to Tina.

This night couldn’t get any weirder.

He led Eleanor through his backyard, then aroundthe back of his grandparents’ house to the drive-way, past the spot by the garage where they likedto kiss goodbye.

When they got to the RV, Park reached upand opened the screen door. ‘Go on,’ he said.‘It’s always unlocked.’

He and Josh used to play in here. It was like alittle house, with a bed at one end and a kitchenat the other. There was even a miniature stoveand refrigerator. It had been a while since Parkhad been inside the RV – he couldn’t stand upnow without hitting his head on the ceiling.

There was a checkerboard-sized table againstthe wall with two seats. Park sat on one side andsat Eleanor down across from him. He reachedfor her hands – her right palm was streaked withblood, but she didn’t seem to be in pain.

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‘Eleanor …’ he said. ‘What’s going on?’ Hewas pleading.

‘I have to leave,’ she said. She was lookingacross the table like she’d just seen a ghost. Likeshe was one.

‘Why?’ he said. ‘Is this about tonight?’ InPark’s head, it felt like everything must be abouttonight. Like nothing that good and this badcould happen on the same night unless they wererelated. Whatever this was.

‘No,’ Eleanor said, rubbing her eyes. ‘No. It’snot about us. I mean …’ She looked out the littlewindow.

‘Why is your stepdad looking for you?’‘Because he knows, because I ran away.’‘Why?’‘Because he knows.’ Her voice caught. ‘Be-

cause it’s him.’‘What?’‘Oh God, I shouldn’t have come here,’ she

said. ‘I’m just making it worse. I’m sorry.’

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Park wanted to shake her, to shake through toher – she wasn’t making any sense. Two hoursago, everything had been perfect between them,and now … Park had to get back to his house.His mom was still awake, and his dad was goingto be home any minute.

He leaned over the table and took Eleanor bythe shoulders.

‘Could we just start over?’ he whispered.‘Please? I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

Eleanor closed her eyes and nodded wearily.She started over.She told him everything.And Park’s hands started shaking before she

was halfway through.

‘Maybe he won’t hurt you,’ he said, hoping itwas true, ‘maybe he’s just trying to scare you.Here …’ He pulled his hand inside his sleeve andtried to wipe Eleanor’s face.

‘No,’ she said. ‘You don’t know, you don’tsee how … how he looks at me.’

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CHAPTER 49

Eleanor

How he looks at me.Like he’s biding his time.Not like he wants me. Like he’ll get around to

me. When there’s nothing and no one else left todestroy.

How he waits up for me.Keeps track of me.How he’s always there. When I’m eating.

When I’m reading. When I’m brushing my hair.You don’t see.Because I pretend not to.

CHAPTER 50

Park

Eleanor pushed her curls out of her face one byone, like she was gathering her wits by hand. ‘Ihave to go,’ she said.

She was making more sense now, and moreeye contact, but Park still felt like someone hadturned the world upside down and was shaking it.

‘You could talk to your mom tomorrow,’ hesaid. ‘Everything might look different in themorning.’

‘You saw what he wrote on my books,’ shesaid evenly. ‘Would you want me to stay there?’

‘I … I just don’t want you to leave,’ he said.‘Where would you go? To your dad’s house?’

‘No, he doesn’t want me.’‘But if you explained …’

‘He doesn’t want me.’‘Then … where?’‘I don’t know.’ She took a deep breath and

squared her shoulders. ‘My uncle said I couldspend the summer with him. Maybe he’ll let mecome up to St Paul early.’

‘St Paul, Minnesota.’She nodded.‘But …’ Park looked in Eleanor’s eyes, and

her hands fell to the table.‘I know,’ she sobbed, slumping forward. ‘I

know …’There was no room to sit at the table next to

her, so he dropped to his knees and pulled heronto the dusty linoleum floor.

Eleanor

‘When are you leaving?’ he asked. He pushed herhair out of her face and held it behind her head.

‘Tonight,’ she said, ‘I can’t go home.’

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‘How are you going to get there? Have youcalled your uncle?’

‘No. I don’t know. I thought I’d take the bus.’She was going to hitchhike.She figured she could walk as far as the Inter-

state, then she’d stick out her thumb for stationwagons and minivans. Family cars. If she hadn’tbeen raped or murdered – or sold into whiteslavery – by Des Moines, she’d call her unclecollect. He’d come to get her, even if it was justto bring her home.

‘You can’t take the bus by yourself,’ Parksaid.

‘I don’t have a better plan.’‘I’ll drive you,’ he said.‘To the bus station?’‘To Minnesota.’‘Park, no, your parents will never let you.’‘So I won’t ask.’‘But your dad will kill you.’‘No,’ he said, ‘he’ll ground me.’‘For life.’

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‘Do you think I even care about that rightnow?’ He held her face in his hands. ‘Do youthink I care about anything but you?’

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CHAPTER 51

Eleanor

Park said he’d come back after his dad got homeand his parents were both asleep.

‘It might be a while. Don’t turn on the lightor anything, okay?’

‘Duh.’‘And watch for the Impala.’‘Okay.’He looked more serious than she’d seen him

since the day he kicked Steve’s ass. Or since herfirst day on the bus, when he’d ordered her to sitdown. That was still the only time she’d heardhim use the F-word.

He leaned into the RV and touched her chin.‘Please be careful,’ she said.And then he was gone.

Eleanor sat back down at the table. She couldsee Park’s driveway from there, through the lacecurtains. She felt tired suddenly. She just wantedto lay her head down. It was already after mid-night; it could be hours before Park came back …

Maybe she should feel bad about involvinghim in all this, but she didn’t. He was right, theworst thing that would happen to him (barringsome terrible accident) was that he’d be groun-ded. And being grounded at his house was likewinning the Price is Right showcase compared towhat would happen if Eleanor got caught.

Should she have left a note?Would her mom call the police? (Was her

mom okay? Were they all okay? Eleanor shouldhave checked to see if the little kids werebreathing.)

Her uncle probably wouldn’t even let Eleanorstay once he found out she’d run away …

God, whenever she started to think this planthrough, it all fell apart. But it was already toolate to turn back. It felt like the most important

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thing now was to run, the most important place tobe was away.

She’d get away, and then she’d figure outwhat to do next.

Or maybe she wouldn’t …Maybe she’d get away, and then she’d just

stop.Eleanor had never thought about killing her-

self – ever – but she thought a lot about stopping.Just running until she couldn’t run anymore.Jumping from something so high that she’d neverhit the bottom.

Was Richie out looking for her now?Maisie and Ben would tell him about Park, if

they hadn’t already. Not because they liked Rich-ie, though sometimes it still seemed like they did.Because he had them on leashes. Like the firstday Eleanor came to the house, when Maisie wassitting on Richie’s lap …

Fuck. Just … fuck.She should go back for Maisie.

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She should go back for all of them – sheshould find a way to fit them in her pockets – butshe should definitely go back for Maisie. Maisiewould run away with Eleanor. She wouldn’tthink twice …

And then Uncle Geoff would send them bothright home.

Her mom would definitely call the police ifshe woke up and Maisie was gone. BringingMaisie would ruin everything even worse than itwas already ruined.

If Eleanor were the hero of some book, likeThe Boxcar Children or something, she’d try. Ifshe were Dicey Tillerman, she’d find a way.

She’d be brave and noble, and she’d find away.

But she wasn’t. Eleanor wasn’t any of thosethings. She was just trying to get through thenight.

Park

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Park walked quietly into his house through theback door. Nobody in his family ever lockedanything.

The TV was still on in his parents’ bedroom.He went straight to the bathroom and into theshower. He was pretty sure he smelled like everysingle thing that could get him in trouble.

‘Park?’ his mom called when he walked outof the bathroom.

‘Here,’ he said. ‘Just going to bed.’He buried his dirty clothes at the bottom of

the hamper and dug all his leftover birthday andChristmas money out of his sock drawer. Sixtydollars. That should be enough for gas … prob-ably, he didn’t really know.

If they could just get to St Paul, Eleanor’suncle would help them figure it out. She wasn’tsure her uncle would let her stay, but she said hewas a decent guy, ‘and his wife was in the PeaceCorps.’

Park had already written his parents a note:

Mom and Dad,

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I had to help Eleanor. I’ll call you to-morrow, and I’ll be back in a day or two. Iknow I’m in huge trouble, but this was anemergency, and I had to help.

Park

His mom always kept her keys in the same place– on a little key-shaped plaque in the entrywaythat said ‘keys.’

Park was going to take her keys, then sneakback out the kitchen door, the door farthest fromhis parents’ room.

His dad got home around 1:30. Park listenedto him move around the kitchen, then the bath-room. He heard the door to his parents’ roomopen, he heard the TV.

Park lay on his bed and closed his eyes.(There was no chance he’d fall asleep.) The pic-ture of Eleanor was still glowing on the inside ofhis eyelids.

So beautiful. So peaceful … No, that wasn’tquite right, not peaceful, more like … at peace.

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Like she was more comfortable out of her shirtthan in it. Like she was happy inside out.

When he opened his eyes, he saw her the wayhe’d left her in the RV – tense and resigned, sofar gone that light wouldn’t even catch in hereyes.

So far gone, she wasn’t even thinking abouthim anymore.

Park waited until it was quiet. Then he waited an-other twenty minutes. Then he grabbed his back-pack and went through the motions he’d plannedin his head.

He stopped at the kitchen door. His dad hadleft his new hunting rifle out on the table … Hewas probably going to clean it tomorrow morn-ing. For a minute, Park thought about taking thegun – but he couldn’t think of when he’d use it.It’s not like they were going to run into Richie onthe way out of town. Hopefully.

Park opened the door and was about to stepout when his dad’s voice stopped him.

‘Park?’

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He could have run for it, but his dad probablywould’ve caught him. His dad was always brag-ging about being in the best shape of his life.

‘Where do you think you’re going?’ his dadwhispered.

‘I … I have to help Eleanor.’‘What does Eleanor need help with at two in

the morning?’‘She’s running away.’‘And you’re going with her?’‘No. I was just going to give her a ride to her

uncle’s house.’‘Where does her uncle live?’‘Minnesota.’‘Jesus F. Christ, Park,’ his dad said in his nor-

mal voice, ‘are you serious?’‘Dad.’ Park stepped toward him, pleading.

‘She has to go. It’s her stepdad. He’s …’‘Did he touch her? Because if he touched her,

we’re calling the police.’‘He writes her these notes.’‘What kind of notes?’

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Park rubbed his forehead. He didn’t like tothink about the notes. ‘Sick ones.’

‘Did she talk to her mom?’‘Her mom’s … not in very good shape. I

think he hurts her.’‘That little fucker …’ His dad looked down at

the gun, then looked back at Park, rubbing hischin. ‘So you’re going to drive Eleanor to heruncle’s house. Will he take her in?’

‘She thinks so.’‘I gotta tell you, Park, this doesn’t sound like

much of a plan.’‘I know.’His dad sighed and scratched the back of his

neck. ‘But I can’t think of a better one.’Park’s head jerked up.‘Call me when you get there,’ his dad said

quietly. ‘It’s a straight shot up from Des Moines– do you have a map?’

‘I thought I’d get one at a gas station.’

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‘If you get tired, pull into a rest stop. Anddon’t talk to anybody unless you have to. Do youhave any money?’

‘Sixty dollars.’‘Here …’ His dad walked over to the cookie

jar and pulled out a bunch of twenties. ‘If thisdoesn’t work, with her uncle, don’t take Eleanorhome. Bring her back here, and we’ll figure outwhat to do next.’

‘Okay … Thanks, Dad.’‘Don’t thank me yet. I’ve got one condition.’No more eyeliner, Park thought.‘You’re taking the truck,’ his dad said.

His dad stood on the front steps with his armsfolded. Of course he had to watch. Like he wasumpiring a goddamn taekwando bout.

Park closed his eyes. Eleanor was still there.Eleanor.

He started the engine and shifted smoothlyinto reverse, rolled out of the driveway, shiftedinto first, then pulled forward without a sputter.

Because he knew how to drive a stick. Jesus.

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CHAPTER 52

Park

‘Okay?’She nodded and climbed in.‘Stay down,’ he said.

The first couple hours were a blur.Park wasn’t used to driving the truck, and it

died a few times at red lights. Then he got on theInterstate heading west instead of east, and ittook twenty minutes to turn around again.

Eleanor didn’t say anything. Just stared aheadand held onto her seat belt with both hands. Heput his hand on her leg, and it was like she didn’tnotice it was there.

They got off the Interstate again somewherein Iowa to get gas and a map. Park went in. He

bought Eleanor a Coke and a sandwich, andwhen he got back to the truck she was slumpedagainst the passenger door, asleep.

Good, he tried to tell himself. She’sexhausted.

He climbed up behind the wheel and took afew rough breaths, then he slammed the sand-wich onto the dash. How could she be asleep?

If everything went right tonight, Park wouldbe driving home tomorrow morning by himself.He’d probably be allowed to drive now wheneverhe wanted, but there was nowhere he wanted togo without Eleanor.

How could she sleep through their last hourstogether?

How could she sleep sitting up like that …Her hair was down and wild, wine-red even

in this light, and her mouth was slightly open.Strawberry girl. He tried again to remember whathe’d thought the first time he saw her. He tried toremember how this happened – how she went

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from someone he’d never met to the only onewho mattered.

And he wondered … What would happen ifhe didn’t take her to her uncle’s house? Whatwould happen if he kept driving?

Why couldn’t this have waited?If Eleanor’s life had caved in next year, or the

year after, she could have run to him. Not from,not away.

Jesus. Why couldn’t she just wake up?Park stayed awake for another hour or so,

fueled by Coke and hurt feelings. Then the wreckof the night caught up with him. There wasn’t arest stop around, so he pulled off on a countyroad, onto the gravel that passed as a shoulder.

He unbuckled his seat belt, unbuckled Elean-or’s, then pulled her into him, laying his head onhers. She still smelled like last night. Like sweatand sweetness and the Impala. He cried into herhair until he fell asleep.

Eleanor

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She woke up in Park’s arms. It caught her bysurprise.

She would’ve thought it was a dream, but herdreams were always terrifying. (With Nazis andbabies crying and teeth rotting out of her mouth.)Eleanor had never dreamed anything as nice asthis, as nice as Park, sleepy-soft and warm …Warm through. Someday, she thought, some-body’s going to wake up to this every morning.

Park’s face, asleep, was a brand new kind ofbeautiful. Sunshine-trapped-in-amber skin. Full,flat mouth. Strong, arched cheekbones. (Eleanordidn’t even have cheekbones.)

He caught her by surprise, and before shecould help herself, her heart was breaking forhim. Like it didn’t have anything better to breakover …

Maybe it didn’t.The sun was just below the horizon, and the

inside of the truck was bluey pink. Eleanor kissedPark’s new face – just under his eye, not quite onhis nose. He stirred, and she felt every part of

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him shift against her. She ran the end of her nosealong his brow and kissed his lashes.

His eyelids fluttered. (Only eyelids do that.And butterflies.) And his arms came to lifearound her. ‘Eleanor …’ he sighed.

She held his beautiful face and kissed himlike it was the end of the world.

Park

She wouldn’t be on the bus with him.She wouldn’t roll her eyes at him in English.She wouldn’t pick a fight with him just be-

cause she was bored.She wouldn’t cry in his bedroom about the

things he couldn’t fix for her.The whole sky was the color of her skin.

Eleanor

There’s only one of him, she thought, and he’sright here.

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He knows I’ll like a song before I’ve heard it.He laughs before I even get to the punchline.There’s a place on his chest, just below histhroat, that makes me want to let him open doorsfor me.

There’s only one of him.

Park

His parents never talked about how they met, butwhen Park was younger, he used to try to ima-gine it.

He loved how much they loved each other. Itwas the thing he thought about when he woke upscared in the middle of the night. Not that theyloved him – they were his parents, they had tolove him. That they loved each other. They didn’thave to do that.

None of his friend’s parents were still togeth-er, and in every case that seemed like the numberone thing that had gone wrong with his friends’lives.

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But Park’s parents loved each other. Theykissed each other on the mouth, no matter whowas watching.

What are the chances you’d ever meetsomeone like that? he wondered. Someone youcould love forever, someone who would foreverlove you back? And what did you do when thatperson was born half a world away?

The math seemed impossible. How did hisparents get so lucky?

They couldn’t have felt lucky at the time. Hisdad’s brother had just died in Vietnam; that’swhy they sent his dad to Korea. And when hisparents got married, his mom had to leaveeverything and everyone she loved behind.

Park wondered if his dad saw his mom in thestreet or from the road or working in a restaurant.He wondered how they both knew …

This kiss had to last Park forever.It had to get him home.He needed to remember it when he woke up

scared in the middle of the night.

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Eleanor

The first time he’d held her hand, it felt so goodthat it crowded out all the bad things. It felt betterthan anything had ever hurt.

Park

Eleanor’s hair caught fire at dawn. Her eyes weredark and shining, and his arms were sure of her.

The first time he’d touched her hand, he’dknown.

Eleanor

There’s no shame with Park. Nothing is dirty.Because Park is the sun, and that’s best way shecould think to explain it.

Park

‘Eleanor, no, we have to stop.’

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‘No …’‘We can’t do this …’‘No. Don’t stop, Park.’‘I don’t even know how to … I don’t have

anything.’‘It doesn’t matter.’‘But I don’t want you to get …’‘I don’t care.’‘I care. Eleanor …’‘It’s our last chance.’‘No. No, I can’t … I, no, I need to believe

that it isn’t our last chance … Eleanor? Can youhear me? I need you to believe it, too.’

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CHAPTER 53

Park

Eleanor got out of the truck, and Park wanderedinto the cornfield to pee. (Which was embarrass-ing, but less embarrassing than pissing his pants.)

When he came back, she was sitting on thehood of the truck. She looked beautiful, fierce,leaning forward like a figurehead.

He climbed up and sat next to her.‘Hey,’ he said.‘Hey.’He pushed his shoulder up against hers and

nearly wept with relief when she laid her headagainst him. Weeping again today seemed whollyinevitable.

‘Do you really believe that?’ she asked.‘What?’

‘That … we’ll have other chances? That wehave any chance at all?’

‘Yes.’‘No matter what happens,’ she said force-

fully, ‘I’m not coming home.’‘I know.’She was quiet.‘No matter what happens,’ Park said, ‘I love

you.’She put her arms around his waist, and he

hugged her shoulders.‘I just can’t believe that life would give us to

each other,’ he said, ‘and then take it back.’‘I can,’ she said. ‘Life’s a bastard.’He held her tighter, and pushed his face into

her neck.‘But it’s up to us …’ he said softly. ‘It’s up to

us not to lose this.’

Eleanor

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She sat right next to him for the rest of the trip –even though there wasn’t a seat belt, and she hadto sit with the stick shift between her legs. Shefigured it was still lots safer than riding in theback of Richie’s Isuzu.

They stopped at another truck stop and Parkbought her Cherry Coke and beef jerky. Hecalled his parents collect – she still couldn’t be-lieve they were okay with this.

‘My dad’s okay,’ he said. ‘I think my mom’sfreaking out.’

‘Have they heard from my mom or …anybody?’

‘No. Or, at least, they didn’t mention it.’Park asked her if she wanted to call her uncle.

She didn’t.‘I smell like Steve’s garage,’ she said. ‘My

uncle’s going to think I’m a drug dealer.’Park laughed. ‘I think you spilled beer on

your shirt. Maybe he’ll just think you’re analcoholic.’

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She looked down at her shirt. There was asmear of blood from when she’d cut her hand onher bed – and something crusty on the shoulder,probably snot from all that crying.

‘Here,’ Park said. He was taking off hissweatshirt. Then his T-shirt. He handed the T-shirt to her. It was green and said ‘PrefabSprout.’

‘I can’t take this,’ she said, watching him pullhis sweatshirt back on over his bare chest. ‘It’snew.’ Plus it probably wouldn’t fit.

‘You can give it back later.’‘Close your eyes,’ she said.‘Of course,’ Park said softly. He looked

away.There was no one else in the parking lot.

Eleanor slouched down and put Park’s T-shirt onunderneath her own, then pulled the dirty shirtoff. That’s how she changed in gym class. Hisshirt was about as tight as her gymsuit … but itsmelled clean, like Park.

‘Okay,’ she said.

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He looked back at her, and his smile changed.‘Keep it.’

When they got to Minneapolis, Park stopped atanother gas station to ask for directions.

‘Is it easy?’ she asked him when he got backin the truck.

‘Like Sunday morning,’ he said. ‘We’rereally close.’

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CHAPTER 54

Park

He was more nervous about his driving once theygot into the city. Driving in St Paul was nothinglike driving in Omaha.

Eleanor was reading the map for him, butshe’d never read a map outside of class before –and between the two of them they kept makingwrong turns.

‘I’m sorry,’ Eleanor kept saying.‘It’s okay,’ Park said, glad she was sitting

right next to him. ‘I’m not in any hurry.’She pressed her hand into the top of his leg.‘I’ve been thinking …’ she said.‘Yeah?’‘I don’t want you to come inside when we get

there.’

‘You mean you want to talk to them byyourself?’

‘No … Well, yeah. But I mean … I don’twant you to wait for me.’

He tried to look down at her, but he wasafraid he’d miss his turn again.

‘What?’ he said. ‘No. What if they don’t wantyou to stay?’

‘Then they can figure out how to get mehome – I’ll be their problem. Maybe that’ll giveme more time to talk to them about everything.’

‘But …’ I’m not ready for you to stop beingmy problem.

‘It makes more sense, Park. If you leavesoon, you can still get home by dark.’

‘But if I leave soon …’ His voice dropped. ‘Ileave soon.’

‘We have to say goodbye anyway,’ she said.‘Does it matter if it’s now or a few hours fromnow or tomorrow morning?’

‘Are you kidding?’ He looked down at her,hoping he’d miss his turn. ‘Yes.’

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Eleanor

‘It just makes more sense,’ she said. And thenshe bit her lip. The only way she was going to getthrough any of this was by force of will.

The houses were starting to look familiar –big gray and white clapboard houses set far backon their lawns. Eleanor’s whole family had comeup here for Easter the year after her dad left. Heruncle and his wife were atheists, but it was still areally fun trip.

They didn’t have kids of their own – probablyby choice, Eleanor thought. Probably becausethey knew cute kids grow up into ugly, problem-atic teenagers.

But Uncle Geoff had invited her here.He wanted her to come, at least for a few

months. Maybe she didn’t have to tell himeverything right away, maybe he’d just think shewas early.

‘Is that it?’ Park asked.He stopped in front of a gray-blue house with

a willow tree in the front yard.

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‘Yeah,’ she said. She recognized the house.She recognized her uncle’s Volvo in thedriveway.

Park stepped on the gas.‘Where are you going?’‘Just … around the block,’ he said.

Park

He drove around the block. For all the good it didhim. Then he parked a few houses down from heruncle’s, so they could see the house from the car.Eleanor couldn’t look away from it.

Eleanor

She had to say goodbye to him. Now. And shedidn’t know how.

Park

‘You remember my phone number right?’

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‘867-5309.’‘Seriously, Eleanor.’‘Seriously, Park. I’m never going to forget

your phone number.’‘Call me as soon as you can, okay? Tonight.

Collect. And give me your uncle’s number. Or, ifhe doesn’t want you to call, send the number tome in a letter – in one of the many, many lettersyou’re going to write me.’

‘He might send me home.’‘No.’ Park let go of the gearshift and took her

hand. ‘You’re not going back there. If your unclesends you home, come to my house. My parentswill help us figure it out. My dad already saidthat they would.’

Eleanor’s head fell forward.‘He’s not going to send you home,’ Park said.

‘He’s going to help …’ She nodded deliberatelyat the floor. ‘And he’s going to let you accept fre-quent, private, long-distance phone calls …’

She was still.

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‘Hey,’ Park said, trying to lift up her chin.‘Eleanor.’

Eleanor

Stupid Asian kid.Stupid, beautiful Asian kid.Thank God she couldn’t make her mouth

work right now, because if she could there’d beno end to the melodramatic garbage she’d say tohim.

She was pretty sure she’d thank him for sav-ing her life. Not just yesterday, but, like, practic-ally every day since they’d met. Which made herfeel like the dumbest, weakest girl. If you can’tsave your own life, is it even worth saving?

There’s no such thing as handsome princes,she told herself.

There’s no such thing as happily ever after.She looked up at Park. Into his golden green

eyes.

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You saved my life, she tried to tell him. Notforever, not for good. Probably just temporarily.But you saved my life, and now I’m yours. Theme that’s me right now is yours. Always.

Park

‘I don’t know how to say goodbye to you,’ shesaid.

He smoothed her hair off her face. He’d nev-er seen her so fair. ‘Then don’t.’

‘But I have to go …’‘So go,’ he said, with his hands on her

cheeks. ‘But don’t say goodbye. It’s notgoodbye.’

She rolled her eyes and shook her head.‘That’s so lame.’

‘Seriously? You can’t cut me five minutes ofslack?’

‘That’s what people say – “It’s not goodbye”– when they’re too afraid to face what they’rereally feeling. I’m not going to see you

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tomorrow, Park – I don’t know when I’ll see youagain. That deserves more than “It’s notgoodbye.”’

‘I’m not afraid to face what I’m feeling,’ hesaid.

‘Not you,’ she said, her voice breaking. ‘Me.’‘You,’ he said, putting his arms around her

and promising himself that it wouldn’t be the lasttime, ‘are the bravest person I know.’

She shook her head again, like she was tryingto shake off the tears.

‘Just kiss me goodbye,’ she whispered.Only for today, he thought. Not ever.

Eleanor

You think that holding someone hard will bringthem closer. You think that you can hold them sohard that you’ll still feel them, embossed on you,when you pull away.

Every time Eleanor pulled away from Park,she felt the gasping loss of him.

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When she finally got out of the truck, it wasbecause she didn’t think she could stand touchingand untouching him again. The next time sheripped herself away, she’d lose some skin.

Park started to get out with her, but shestopped him.

‘No,’ she said. ‘Stay.’ She looked upanxiously at her uncle’s house.

‘It’s going to be okay,’ Park said.She nodded. ‘Right.’‘Because I love you.’She laughed. ‘Is that why?’‘It is, actually.’‘Goodbye,’ she said. ‘Goodbye, Park.’‘Goodbye, Eleanor. You know, until tonight.

When you’re going to call me.’‘What if they’re not home? God, that would

be anti-climactic.’‘That would be great.’‘Dork,’ she whispered with a leftover smile

on her face. She stepped back and closed thedoor.

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‘I love you,’ he mouthed. Maybe he was say-ing it out loud. She couldn’t hear him anymore.

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CHAPTER 55

Park

He didn’t ride the bus anymore. He didn’t haveto. His mom gave him the Impala when his dadbought her a new Taurus …

He didn’t ride the bus anymore because he’dhave the whole seat to himself.

Not that the Impala wasn’t just as ruined withmemories. Some mornings, if Park got to schoolearly, he sat in the parking lot with his head onthe steering wheel and let whatever was left ofEleanor wash over him until he ran out of air.Not that school was any better.

She wasn’t at her locker. Or in class. MrStessman said it was pointless to read Macbethout loud without Eleanor. ‘Fie, my Lord, fie,’ helamented.

She didn’t stay for dinner. She didn’t leanagainst him when he watched TV.

Park spent most nights lying on his bed be-cause it was the only place she’d never been.

He lay on his bed and never turned on thestereo.

Eleanor

She didn’t ride the bus anymore. She rode toschool with her uncle. He made her go, eventhough there were only four weeks left, andeverybody was already studying for finals.

There weren’t any Asian kids at her newschool. There weren’t even any black kids.

When her uncle went down to Omaha, hesaid she didn’t have to go. He was gone threedays, and when he came back, he brought theblack trash bag from her bedroom closet. Eleanoralready had new clothes. And a new bookcaseand a boombox. And a six-pack of blank cassettetapes.

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Park

Eleanor didn’t call that first night.She hadn’t said that she would, now that he

thought about it. She hadn’t said that she’d writeeither, but Park thought that went unsaid. He’dthought that was a given.

After Eleanor got out of the truck, Park hadwaited in front of her uncle’s house.

He was supposed to drive away as soon as thedoor opened, as soon as it was clear that some-body was home. But he couldn’t just leave herlike that.

He watched the woman who came to the doorgive Eleanor a big hug, and then he watched thedoor close behind them. And then he waited, justin case Eleanor changed her mind. Just in caseshe decided after all that he should come in.

The door stayed closed. Park remembered hispromise and drove away. The sooner I get home,he thought, the sooner I’ll hear from her again.

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He sent Eleanor a postcard from the firsttruck stop. ‘Welcome to Minnesota, Land of10,000 Lakes.’

When he got home, his mom ran to the door tohug him.

‘All right?’ his dad asked.‘Yeah,’ Park said.‘How was the truck?’‘Fine.’His dad went outside to make sure.‘You,’ his mom said, ‘I was so worried about

you.’‘I’m fine, Mom, just tired.’‘How’s Eleanor?’ she asked. ‘She okay?’‘I think so, has she called?’‘No. Nobody called.’As soon as his mom would let go of him,

Park went to his room and wrote Eleanor a letter.

Eleanor

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When Aunt Susan opened the door, Eleanor wasalready crying.

‘Eleanor,’ Aunt Susan kept saying. ‘Oh mygoodness, Eleanor. What are you doing here?’

Eleanor tried to tell her that everything wasokay. Which wasn’t true – she wouldn’t be thereif everything was okay. But nobody was dead.‘Nobody’s dead,’ she said.

‘Oh my God. Geoffrey!’ Aunt Susan called.‘Wait here, sweetheart. Geoff …’

Left alone, Eleanor realized that sheshouldn’t have told Park to leave right away.

She wasn’t ready for him to leave.She opened the front door and ran out to the

street. Park was already gone – she looked bothways for him.

When she turned around, her aunt and unclewere standing on the front porch watching her.

Phone calls. Peppermint tea. Her aunt and uncletalking in the kitchen long after she went to bed.

‘Sabrina …’‘Five of them.’

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‘We’ve got to get them out of there, Geoffrey…’

‘What if she isn’t telling the truth?’Eleanor took Park’s photo out of her back

pocket and smoothed it out on the bedspread. Itdidn’t look like him. October was already a life-time away. And this afternoon was another life-time. The world was spinning so fast, she didn’tknow where she stood anymore.

Her aunt had lent her some pajamas – theywore about the same size – but Eleanor putPark’s shirt back on as soon as she got out of theshower.

It smelled like him. Like his house, like pot-pourri. Like soap, like boy, like happiness.

She fell forward onto the bed, holding thehole in her stomach.

No one would ever believe her.

She wrote her mom a letter.She said everything she’d wanted to say in

the last six months.She said she was sorry.

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She begged her to think of Ben and Mouse –and Maisie.

She threatened to call the police.Her Aunt Susan gave her a stamp. ‘They’re in

the junk drawer, Eleanor, take as many as youneed.’

Park

When he got sick of his bedroom, when therewas nothing left in his life that smelled likevanilla – Park walked by Eleanor’s house.

Sometimes the truck was there, sometimes itwasn’t, sometimes the Rottweiler was asleep onthe porch. But the broken toys were gone, andthere were never any strawberry-blond kids play-ing in the yard.

Josh said that Eleanor’s little brother hadstopped coming to school. ‘Everybody saysthey’re gone. The whole family.’

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‘That great news,’ their mother said. ‘Maybethat pretty mom wake up to bad situation, youknow? Good for Eleanor.’

Park just nodded.He wondered if his letters even got to

wherever she was now.

Eleanor

There was a red rotary phone in the spare bed-room. Her bedroom. Whenever it rang, Eleanorfelt like picking it up and saying, ‘What is it,Commissioner Gordon?’

Sometimes, when she was alone in the house,she took the phone over to her bed and listened tothe dial tone.

She practiced Park’s number, her finger slid-ing across the dial. Sometimes, after the dial tonestopped, she pretended he was whispering in herear.

‘Have you ever had a boyfriend?’ Dani asked.Dani was in theater camp, too. They ate lunch

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together, sitting on the stage with their legsdangling in the orchestra pit.

‘No,’ Eleanor said.Park wasn’t a boyfriend, he was a champion.And they weren’t going to break up. Or get

bored. Or drift apart. (They weren’t going to be-come another stupid high school romance.)

They were just going to stop.Eleanor had decided back in his dad’s truck.

She’d decided in Albert Lea, Minnesota. If theyweren’t going to get married – if it wasn’t forever– it was only a matter of time.

They were just going to stop.Park was never going to love her more than

he did on the day they said goodbye.And she couldn’t bear to think of him loving

her less.

Park

When he got sick of himself, Park went to her oldhouse. Sometimes the truck was there.

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Sometimes it wasn’t. Sometimes, Park stood atthe end of the sidewalk and hated everything thehouse stood for.

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CHAPTER 56

Eleanor

Letters, postcards, packages that rattled likeloaded cassette tapes. None of them opened, noneof them read.

‘Dear Park,’ she wrote on a clean sheet of sta-tionery. ‘Dear Park,’ she tried to explain.

But the explanations fell apart in her hands.Everything true was too hard to write – he wastoo much to lose. Everything she felt for him wastoo hot to touch.

‘I’m sorry,’ she wrote, then crossed it out.‘It’s just …’ she tried again.She threw the half-written letters away. She

threw the unopened envelopes in the bottomdrawer.

‘Dear Park,’ she whispered, her foreheadhanging over the dresser, ‘just stop.’

Park

His dad said Park needed a summer job to pay forgas.

Neither of them mentioned that Park neverwent anywhere. Or that he’d started putting eye-liner on with his thumb. Blacking out his owneyes.

He looked just wrecked enough to get a job atDrastic Plastic. The girl who hired him had tworows of holes in each ear.

His mom stopped bringing in the mail. Heknew it was because she hated telling him thatnothing had come for him. Park brought in themail himself now every night when he got homefrom work. Every night praying for rain.

He had an endless supply and an insatiableappetite for punk music. ‘I can’t hear myselfthink in here,’ his dad said, coming into Park’s

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room for the third night in a row to turn down thestereo.

Duh, Eleanor would have said.

Eleanor didn’t start school in the fall. Not withPark anyway.

She didn’t celebrate the fact that juniors don’thave to take gym. She didn’t say, ‘Unholy union,Batman,’ when Steve and Tina eloped over LaborDay.

Park had written her a letter all about it. He’dtold her everything that happened, and everythingthat didn’t, every day since she’d left.

He kept writing her letters months after hestopped sending them. On New Year’s Day, hewrote that he hoped she’d get everything she everwished for. Then he tossed the letter into a boxunder his bed.

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CHAPTER 57

Park

He’d stopped trying to bring her back.She only came back when she felt like it any-

way, in dreams and lies and broken-down déjàvu.

Like, Park would be driving to work and he’dsee a girl with red hair standing on the street, andhe’d swear for half an airless moment that it washer.

Or he’d wake up when it was still dark, surethat she was waiting for him outside. Sure thatshe needed him.

But he couldn’t summon her. Sometimes hecouldn’t even remember what she looked like,even when he was looking at her picture. (Maybehe’d looked at it too much.)

He’d stopped trying to bring her back.So why did he keep coming here? To this

crappy little house …Eleanor wasn’t here, she was never really

here – and she’d been gone too long. Almost ayear now.

Park turned to walk away from the house, butthe little brown truck whipped too fast into thedriveway, jumping the curb and nearly clippinghim. Park stopped on the sidewalk and waited.The driver’s side door swung open.

Maybe, he thought. Maybe this is why I’mhere.

Eleanor’s stepdad – Richie – leaned slowlyout of the cab. Park recognized him from the onetime he’d seen him before, when Park hadbrought Eleanor the second issue of Watchmen,and her stepdad had answered the door …

The final issue of Watchmen came out a fewmonths after Eleanor left. He wondered if she’dread it, and whether she thought Ozymandias wasa villain, and what she thought Dr Manhattan

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meant when he said, ‘Nothing ever ends’ at theend. Park still wondered what Eleanor thoughtabout everything.

Her stepdad didn’t see Park at first. Richiewas moving slowly, uncertainly. When he didnotice Park, he looked at him like he wasn’t surehe was really there. ‘Who are you?’ Richieshouted.

Park didn’t answer. Richie turned jaggedly,jerking toward him. ‘What do you want?’ Evenfrom a few feet away, he smelled sour. Like beer,like basements.

Park stood his ground.I want to kill you, he thought. And I can, he

realized. I should.Richie wasn’t much bigger than Park, and he

was drunk and disoriented. Plus, he could neverwant to hurt Park as much as Park wanted to hurthim.

Unless Richie was armed, unless he got lucky– Park could do this.

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Richie shuffled closer. ‘What do you want?’he shouted again. The force of his own voiceknocked him off balance and he tipped forward,falling thickly to the ground. Park had to stepback not to catch him.

‘Fuck,’ Richie said, raising himself up on hisknees and holding himself not quite steady.

I want to kill you, Park thought.And I can.Someone should.Park looked down at his steel-toe Docs. He’d

just bought them at work. (On sale, with his em-ployee discount.) He looked at Richie’s head,hanging from his neck like a leather bag.

Park hated him more than he thought it waspossible to hate someone. More than he’d everthought it was possible to feel anything …

Almost.He lifted his boot and kicked the ground in

front of Richie’s face. Ice and mud and drivewayslopped into the older man’s open mouth. Richiecoughed violently and banked into the ground.

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Park waited for him to get up, but Richie justlay there spitting curses, and rubbing salt andgravel into his eyes.

He wasn’t dead. But he wasn’t getting up.Park waited.And then he walked home.

Eleanor

Letters, postcards, yellow padded packages thatrattled in her hands. None of them opened, noneof them read.

It was bad when the letters came every day. Itwas worse when they stopped.

Sometimes she laid them out on the carpetlike tarot cards, like Wonka bars, and wonderedwhether it was too late.

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CHAPTER 58

Park

Eleanor didn’t go to prom with him.Cat did.Cat from work. She was thin and dark, and

her eyes were as blue and flat as breath mints.When Park held Cat’s hand, it was like holdinghands with a mannequin, and it was such a reliefthat he kissed her. He fell asleep on prom night inhis tuxedo pants and a Fugazi T-shirt.

He woke up the next morning whensomething light fell on his shirt – he opened hiseyes. His dad was standing over him.

‘Mail call,’ his dad said, almost gently. Parkput his hand to his heart.

Eleanor hadn’t written him a letter.

It was a postcard. ‘Greetings from the Landof 10,000 Lakes,’ it said on the front. Park turnedit over and recognized her scratchy handwriting.It filled his head with song lyrics.

He sat up. He smiled. Something heavy andwinged took off from his chest.

Eleanor hadn’t written him a letter, it was apostcard.

Just three words long.

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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I would like to thank some of the people whomade this book possible for me – and who mademe possible for this book:

First, to Colleen Eickelman, who insisted that Ipass the eighth grade.

And to the Bent and Huntley families, who keptme alive with kindness.

To my brother Forest, who promises that he isn’tjust saying things because I’m his sister.

To Nicola Barr, Sara O’Keeffe and NatalieBraine for being so fierce and so certain, formaking the Atlantic Ocean disappear and, mostof all, for looking out for Eleanor.

Thank you, while I’m at it, to everyone at Orionand St Martin’s Press.

Especially to the lovely and insightful SaraGoodman, whom I trusted implicitly as soon asshe sat down next to me on the bus.

To my dear friend Christopher Schelling, thebest-case scenario.

And finally, I would like to thank Kai, Laddieand Rosey for their love and their patience.(You’re my all-time favorites.)

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Rainbow Rowell is a newspaper columnist inOmaha, Nebraska, where she lives with her hus-band and two sons.

Copyright

AN ORION EBOOK

First published in Great Britain in 2012 by OrionBooks.This eBook first published in 2012 by OrionBooks.Copyright © Rainbow Rowell 2012

The moral right of Rainbow Rowell to be identi-fied as the author of this work has been assertedby her in accordance with the Copyright, Designsand Patents Act 1988.

All characters and events in this publication arefictitious and any resemblance to real persons,living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publicationmay be reproduced, stored in a retrieval systemor transmitted in any form or by any means

without the prior permission in writing of thepublisher, nor be otherwise circulated in anyform of binding or cover other than that in whichit is published without a similar condition, in-cluding this condition, being imposed on the sub-sequent purchaser.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is availablefrom the British Library.

ISBN: 978 1 4091 1633 2

Orion BooksThe Orion Publishing Group LtdOrion House5 Upper St Martin’s LaneLondon WC2H 9EA

An Hachette UK Company

www.orionbooks.co.uk

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