Authors: Rainbow Rowell
Because she couldn’t even be
around regular people without
freaking out.
It was just too much. Meeting
his pretty, perfect mom. Seeing his
normal, perfect house. Eleanor
hadn’t known there were houses
like
that
in
this
crappy
neighborhood – houses with wall-
to-wall carpeting and little baskets
of potpourri everywhere. She
didn’t know there were
families
like that. The only upside to living
in this effed-up neighborhood was
that everybody else was effed up,
too. The other kids might hate
Eleanor for being big and weird,
but they weren’t going to hate on
her for having a broken family
and a broke-down house. That
was kind of the rule around here.
Park’s family didn’t fit. They
were the Cleavers.
And
he’d told
her that his grandparents lived in
the house next door, which had
flower boxes, for Christ’s sake.
His family was practically the
Waltons.
Eleanor’s family had been
messed up even before Richie
came around and sent everything
straight to hell.
She would never belong in
Park’s living room. She never felt
like she belonged anywhere,
except for when she was lying on
her
bed,
pretending
to
be
somewhere else.
CHAPTER 22
Eleanor
When Eleanor got to their seat the
next morning, Park didn’t stand
up to let her in. He just scooted
over. It didn’t seem like he wanted
to look at her; he handed her some
comic books, then turned away.
Steve was being really loud.
Maybe he was always this loud.
When Park was holding her hand,
Eleanor couldn’t even hear herself
think
.
Everyone in the back of the
bus was singing the Nebraska
fight song. There was some big
game coming up this weekend,
against Oklahoma or Oregon or
something. Mr Stessman was
giving them extra credit all week
for wearing red. You wouldn’t
think Mr Stessman would be
prone to all this Husker crap, but it
seemed like nobody was immune.
Except Park.
Park was wearing a U2 shirt
today with a picture of a little boy
on the chest. Eleanor had been up
all night thinking about how he
was probably done with her, and
now she just wanted to put herself
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. ‘Sort
of.’
‘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.
‘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 as you
walked in, maybe even before
that.’
‘I felt like I shouldn’t be
there,’ she said. She didn’t say it
loud enough to be heard over the
creeps in the back. (Seriously.
Their singing was even worse than
their shouting.) ‘I didn’t feel like
you wanted me there,’ she said, a
little louder.
The way Park looked at her
then, biting his bottom lip, she
knew she was at least a little bit
right.
She’d wanted to be all wrong.
She’d wanted him to tell her
that he
did
want her at his house,
that he wanted her to come back
and try again.
Park said something, but she
couldn’t hear him, because now
the kids in the back were chanting.
Steve was standing at the back of
the aisle, 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 all looking
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
tight at his sides. He looked like
someone she’d never 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
forced herself to stay in her seat
until it stopped, and to calmly
walk forward. The chanting broke
up into laughter. Park was right
behind her, but he stopped as
soon as he was off the bus. He
threw his 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 to hold
back. ‘I don’t want this.’
‘I’m
tired
of
them
embarrassing you.’
Steve was getting off the bus,
and Park clenched his fists again.
‘Embarrassing me?’ she said.
‘Or embarrassing you?’
He looked back at her,
stricken. And she knew again that
she was right. Damn it. Why did
he keep letting her be right about
all the crappy stuff?
‘If this is for me,’ she said, as
fiercely as she could, ‘then listen
to me. I don’t
want
this.’
He looked in her eyes. His eyes
were so green, they looked
yellow. He was breathing heavy,
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 Steve
say, ‘That’s right, Red. Show it
off.’
And then Park was gone.
When she turned to look, he
was already shoving Steve back
toward the bus. They looked like
David and Goliath, if David had
gotten close enough to let Goliath
kick his ass.
Kids were already yelling
‘fight!’ and running from every
direction. Eleanor ran, too.
She heard Park say, ‘I’m so
sick of your mouth.’
And she heard Steve say, ‘Are
you serious with this?’
He pushed Park hard, but Park
didn’t fall. Park took a few steps
back, then cranked his shoulder
forward, spinning into the air and
kicking Steve right in the mouth.
The whole crowd gasped.
Tina screamed.
Steve sprung forward almost
as soon as Park landed, swinging
his giant fists and clubbing Park in
the head.
Eleanor thought that she might
be watching him die.
She ran to get between them,
but Tina was already there. Then
one of the bus drivers was there.
And an assistant principal. All
pushing them 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 my tooth.’
Park lifted his head. His whole
face was covered with blood. He
staggered
forward
and
the
assistant principal caught him.
‘
Leave … my girlfriend … alone
.’
‘I didn’t know she was really
your girlfriend,’ Steve shouted. A
bunch more blood spilled out of
his 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.’
‘All right,’ Steve said. ‘Jesus.’
There were enough adults now
to herd the boys to the building.
Eleanor carried Park’s coat and his
backpack to her locker. She didn’t
know what to do with them.
She didn’t know what to do
with herself either. She didn’t
know how to feel.
Was she supposed to be happy
that Park had called her his
girlfriend? It’s not like he’d given
her any choice in the matter – and
it’s not like he’d said it happily.
He said it with his head down,
with his face dripping blood.
Should she be worried about
him? Could he still have brain
damage, even though he’d been
talking? Could he still stroke out,
or fall into a coma? Whenever
anyone in her family was fighting,
her mother would start shouting,
‘Not in the head, not in the head!’
Also, was it wrong to be so
worried about Park’s face?
Steve had the kind of face that
could take or leave teeth. A few
gaps in Steve’s smile would just
add to the big creepy goon look he
was rocking.
But Park’s face was like art.
And not weird, ugly art either.
Park had the sort of face you
painted because you didn’t want
history to forget it.
Was Eleanor supposed to be
mad at him still? Was she
supposed to be indignant? Was
she supposed to shout at him
when she saw him in English
class, ‘Was that for me? Or for
you?’
She hung his trench coat in her
locker, and leaned in to take a
deep breath. It smelled like Irish
Spring and a little bit like
potpourri and like something she
couldn’t describe anyway other
than
boy
.
Park wasn’t in English or history,
and he wasn’t on the bus after
school. Neither was Steve. Tina
walked by Eleanor’s seat with her
head in the air; Eleanor looked
away. Everybody else on the bus
was talking about the fight.
‘Fucking
Kung Fu
, fucking David
Carradine.’ And ‘Fuck David
Carradine
–
fucking
Chuck
Norris.’
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 kind of
bad about that – because Park was
the one who’d started the fight –
but then he thought about all the
other ridiculous crap Steve did
every day and never got busted
for.
Park’s mom was so mad, she
wouldn’t come get him. She called
his dad at work. When his dad
showed up, the principal thought
he was Steve’s dad.
‘Actually,’
his
dad
said,
pointing at Park, ‘that one’s mine.’
The school nurse said Park
didn’t have to go the hospital, but
he looked pretty bad. He had a
black eye and probably a broken
nose.
Steve did have to go the
hospital. His tooth was loose, and