Eleanor & Park (37 page)

all the time?’

‘To

my

friend’s

house,’

Eleanor said. She kept 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

Milwaukee. ‘Tina’s house must be

fucking Disneyland, huh? You

can’t get enough.’

She waited.

‘Eleanor?’ she heard her mom

calling from the bedroom. She

sounded half asleep.

‘So, what’d you spend your

Christmas money on?’ Richie

asked. ‘I told you to buy yourself

something nice.’

The bedroom door opened,

and her mother came out. She was

wearing Richie’s bathrobe – one

of those Asian souvenir robes, red

satin, with a 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 she hadn’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 with something

awful to say, but he just took

another drink and leaned back in

his chair.

‘Good night, Eleanor,’ her

mom said.

CHAPTER 43

Park

Park’s

parents

almost

never

fought, and when they did, it was

always about him or Josh.

His parents had been arguing

in their bedroom for more than an

hour, and when it was time to

leave for Sunday dinner, their

mom came out and told the boys

to go ahead without them. ‘Tell

Grandma I have headache.’

‘What did you do?’ Josh asked

Park as they cut through the front

lawn.

‘Nothing,’ Park said. ‘What

did
you
do?’

‘Nothing. It’s you. When I

went to the bathroom, 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 knew somehow about

yesterday …

Even if they did, Park hadn’t

done anything with Eleanor that

he’d ever been explicitly told not

to do. His mom never talked to

him about that kind of thing. And

his dad hadn’t said anything 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 was insulting.)

Anyway, they hadn’t gone
that

far. He hadn’t touched her

anywhere that you couldn’t show

on television. Even though he’d

wanted to.

He wished now that he had. It

might be months before they were

alone again.

Eleanor

She went to Mrs Dunne’s office

Monday morning before class, and

Mrs Dunne gave her a brand new

combination lock. It was hot pink.

‘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, I promise.’

There is no bottom, Eleanor

thought. There’s just Tina.

‘It’s okay,’ she told Mrs

Dunne. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

Tina had watched Eleanor get

on the bus that morning with her

tongue on her top lip, like she was

waiting for Eleanor to spaz out –

or like she was trying to see

whether Eleanor was wearing any

toilet clothes. But Park was right

there, practically pulling Eleanor

into his lap – so it was easy to

ignore Tina and everybody else.

He looked so cute this morning.

Instead of his usual scary black

band T-shirt, he was wearing a

green shirt that said ‘Kiss Me, I’m

Irish.’

He walked with her to the

counselors’ office, and told her

that if anybody stole her clothes

today, she was to find him,

immediately.

Nobody did.

Beebi and DeNice had already

heard about what happened from

somebody in another class –

which meant that the whole school

knew. They said they were never

going to let Eleanor walk alone to

lunch again, Macho Nachos be

damned.

‘Those skanks need to know

you have friends,’ DeNice said.

‘Mmm-hmm,’ Beebi agreed.

Park

His mom was waiting in the

Impala Monday afternoon when

Park and Eleanor got off the bus.

She rolled down the window.

‘Hi, Eleanor, sorry, but Park

has errand to run. We see you

tomorrow, okay?’

Sure,’

Eleanor

said.

She

looked at him, and he reached out

to squeeze her hand as she walked

away.

He got into the car. ‘Come on,

come on,’ his mom said, ‘why you

do everything so slow? Here.’ She

handed him a brochure.
State of

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 and looked at the practice

exam. He’d studied the whole

manual when he turned fifteen

and got his learner’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 parallel parked the

Impala, which was like parallel

parking a Star Destroyer. His mom

wiped his eyelids with a Kleenex

before he had his picture taken.

She let him drive home. ‘So, if

we don’t tell Dad,’ Park asked,

‘does that mean I can’t ever

drive?’ He wanted to drive

Eleanor somewhere. Anywhere.

‘I work on it,’ his mom said.

‘Meantime, you have your license

if you need it. For emergency.’

That seemed like a pretty weak

excuse to get his license. Park had

gone sixteen years without a

driving emergency.

The next morning on the bus,

Eleanor asked him what his big

secret errand was, and he handed

her his 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.’

‘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 scoundrel, and I say that I

think you like me
because
I’m a

scoundrel? Because we’ve already

covered this, I’m the Han Solo.’

‘I’m going to write, “For

Eleanor, I love you. Park.”’

‘God, don’t write that, my

mom might find it.’

Eleanor

Park gave her a school picture. It

was from October, but he already

looked so different now. Older. In

the end, Eleanor hadn’t let him

write anything on the back

because she didn’t want him to

ruin it.

They hung out in his bedroom

after dinner (Tater Tot casserole)

and managed to sneak kisses

while they looked through all of

Park’s old school pictures. Seeing

him as a little kid just made her

want to kiss him more. (Gross, but

whatever. As long as she didn’t

want to kiss actual little kids, she

wasn’t going to worry about it.)

When Park asked her for a

picture, she was relieved 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 short, thank God, saying,

‘Mom, I want a photo that actually

looks like Eleanor.’

His mom insisted on taking

one of them together, too, which

Park didn’t mind at all. He put his

arm around her.

‘Shouldn’t we wait?’ Eleanor

asked.

‘For

a

holiday

or

something more memorable?’

‘I want to remember tonight,’

Park said.

He

was

such

a

dork

sometimes.

Eleanor must have been acting too

happy when she got home because

her mom followed her to the back

of the house like she could smell it

on her. (Happiness smelled like

Park’s house. Like Skin So Soft

and all four food groups.) ‘Are

you going to take a bath?’ her

mom asked.

‘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 the

back door that the bath water

started cooling off before the tub

was even full. Eleanor took baths

in 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 from church?’

‘I don’t think so,’ Eleanor

said. Her family hadn’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 boy in

their neighborhood, a black boy.

Eileen’s husband is having a fit.’

‘I don’t remember them,’

Eleanor said. The tub was almost

full enough to rinse her hair.

‘Well, it just made me think

about how lucky I am,’ her mom

said.

‘That you didn’t get involved

with a black guy?’

‘No,’ her mom said. ‘I’m

talking about you. How lucky I am

that you’re so smart about boys.’

‘I’m not smart about boys,’

Eleanor said. She rinsed her hair

quickly, then stood up, covering

herself with a towel while she got

dressed.

‘You’ve stayed away from

them. That’s smart.’

Eleanor pulled out the drain

and carefully picked up her dirty

clothes. Park’s photo was in her

back pocket, and she didn’t want

it to get wet. Her mom was

standing by the stove, watching

her.

‘Smarter than I ever was,’ her

mom said. ‘And braver. I haven’t

been on my own since the eighth

grade.’

Eleanor hugged her dirty jeans

to her chest. ‘You act like there

are two kinds of girls,’ she said.

‘The smart ones and the ones that

boys like.’

‘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 mom said. ‘Wait until

you’re older.’

They both heard Richie’s truck

pull into the driveway.

Eleanor

pushed

past

her

mother

and

rushed

to

her

bedroom. Ben and Mouse slipped

in just behind her.