Authors: Rainbow Rowell
‘Hey …’ he said, taking a
breath, focusing. ‘What’s going
on? Are you okay?’
Eleanor looked at Park’s face,
so full of something she couldn’t
quite place. His chin hung
forward, like his mouth didn’t
want to pull away from her, and
his eyes were so green they could
turn carbon dioxide into oxygen.
He was touching her all the
places she was afraid to be
touched …
Eleanor tried one last time to
be embarrassed.
Park
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 about Eleanor,
dreaming about her, for so many
hours; wanting her made him
stupid.
She was so still in his arms. He
thought for a second that he’d
gone too far, that he’d tripped a
wire.
And then Eleanor touched
him. She touched his neck.
It’s hard to say why this was
different from all the other times
she’d
touched
him.
She
was
different. She was still and then
she wasn’t.
She touched his neck, then
drew a line down his chest. Park
wished that he was taller and
broader; he hoped she wouldn’t
stop.
She was so gentle compared to
him. Maybe she didn’t want him
like he wanted her. But even if she
wanted him half as much …
Eleanor
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 bones were
right on the surface, like his heart
was beating just under his T-shirt.
She touched Park softly,
gingerly, just in case she 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 to his
face. He made a noise like he was
hurt and decided to feel self-
conscious about it later.
If he was shy now, he
wouldn’t get anything that he
wanted.
Eleanor
Park was alive, and she was
awake, and this was allowed.
He was hers.
To have and hold. Not
forever, maybe – not forever, for
sure – and not figuratively. But
literally. And now. Now, he was
hers. And he wanted her to touch
him. He was like a cat who pushes
its head under your hands.
Eleanor brought her hands
down Park’s chest with her
fingertips apart, then brought them
up again under his shirt.
She did it because she wanted
to. And because once she started
touching him the way she did in
her head, it was hard to stop. And
because … what if she never had
the chance to touch him like this
again?
Park
When he felt her fingers on his
stomach, he made the noise again.
He held her to him and pushed
forward,
pushing
Eleanor
backward – stumbling around the
coffee table to the couch.
In
movies,
this
happens
smoothly or comically. In Park’s
living room, it was just awkward.
They wouldn’t let go of each
other, so Eleanor fell back, and
Park fell against her in the corner
of the couch.
He wanted to look in her eyes,
but it was hard when they were
this close. ‘Eleanor …’ he
whispered.
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. He
could spend all day like this,
running his hand down her ribs,
into her waist, out to her hips and
back again … If he had all day, he
would. If she weren’t made of so
many other miracles.
‘You know?’ he repeated. She
smiled, so he kissed her. ‘You’re
not the Han Solo in this
relationship, you know.’
‘I’m totally the Han Solo,’ she
whispered. It was good to hear
her. It was good to remember it
was 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 and
back again, catching his thumb
under her sweater. She swallowed
and lifted her chin.
He pulled her sweater up
farther and, then, without thinking
about why, he pulled up his shirt,
too, and laid his bare stomach
against hers.
Eleanor’s face crumpled, and it
made him come unhinged.
‘You can be Han Solo,’ he
said, kissing her throat. ‘And I’ll
be Boba Fett. I’ll cross the sky for
you.’
Eleanor
Things she knew now, that she
hadn’t known two hours ago:
Park was covered with skin.
Everywhere. And it was all
just as smooth and honey-
beautiful as the skin on his
hands. It felt thick and richer
in some places, more like
crushed velvet than silk. But
it was all his. And all
wonderful.
She was also covered with
skin. And her skin was
apparently covered with
super-powered nerve endings
that hadn’t done a damn thing
her whole life, but came alive
like ice and fire and bee
stings as soon as Park
touched her. Wherever Park
touched her.
As embarrassed as she was of
her stomach and her freckles
and the fact that her bra was
held together with two safety
pins, she wanted Park to
touch her more than she
could ever feel embarrassed.
And when he touched her, he
didn’t seem to care about any
of those things. Some of
them he even liked. Like her
freckles. He said she was
candy-sprinkled.
She wanted him to touch her
everywhere.
He’d stopped at the edge of her
bra and only dipped his fingers
into the back of her jeans – but it
wasn’t Eleanor who stopped him.
She never would. When Park
touched her, it felt better than
anything she’d ever felt in her
whole life. Ever. And she wanted
to feel that way as much she
could. 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 parents could walk in at
any minute, like they should have
been home a long time ago – and
he didn’t want them to find him
like this, with his knee between
Eleanor’s legs and his hand on her
hip and his mouth as far as it
could reach down the neck of her
sweater.
He pulled away from her and
tried to think clearly again. ‘Where
are you going?’ she asked.
‘I don’t know. Nowhere …
My parents should be home soon,
we should get it together.’
‘Okay,’ she said, and sat up.
But she looked so bewildered and
beautiful that he climbed back on
top of her and pushed her all the
way down.
A half-hour later, he tried
again. He stood up this 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 and
looked at the couch to see if it
looked illicit. It didn’t seem to.
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 eyes
seemed wilder than usual. But
Eleanor’s sweaters were always
stretched out, and her hair always
looked 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.’
He’d never seen her face so open.
Her
brows
weren’t
pulled
together,
her
nose
wasn’t
scrunched. He put his arm around
her, and she laid 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 Mrs Dunne’s office because
somebody in gym took my
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 through
life like this. That he could
physically put 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 with
seeing me yesterday?’
He almost didn’t want to
answer. Yesterday’s confusing lust
felt even more inappropriate now
that he knew the upsetting
backstory. ‘Yeah,’ he said quietly.
Eleanor didn’t say anything for
a minute or so. And then …
‘Tina would be so pissed.’
Eleanor
When Park’s parents got home,
they seemed genuinely glad to see
Eleanor. His dad had bought a
new hunting rifle at the boat
show, and he tried to show her
how it worked.
‘You can buy guns at a boat
show?’ Eleanor asked.
‘You can buy anything at a
boat
show,’
his
dad
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 his
grandparents’ driveway, as usual.
But tonight Park didn’t lean
over and kiss her. Instead, he held
her tight.
‘Do you think we’ll ever be
alone like that again?’ 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
watching
Saturday Night Live
.
Ben was asleep on the floor, and
Maisie was sleeping next to Richie
on the couch.
Eleanor would have gone
straight to bed, but she had to go
to the bathroom. Which meant
walking between him and the TV.
Twice.
When she got to the bathroom,
she pulled her hair back tight and
washed her face again. She
hurried back past the TV without
looking up.
‘Where have you been?’
Richie asked. ‘Where do you
go