Authors: Rainbow Rowell
what she thought Dr Manhattan
meant when he said, ‘Nothing
ever ends’ at the end. Park still
wondered what Eleanor thought
about everything.
Her stepdad didn’t see Park at
first. Richie was moving slowly,
uncertainly. When he did notice
Park, he looked at him like he
wasn’t sure he was really there.
‘Who are you?’ Richie shouted.
Park didn’t answer. Richie
turned jaggedly, jerking toward
him. ‘What do you want?’ Even
from 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 never
want to hurt Park as much as Park
wanted to hurt him.
Unless Richie was armed,
unless he got lucky – Park could
do this.
Richie shuffled closer. ‘What
do you want?’ he shouted again.
The force of his own voice
knocked him off balance and he
tipped forward, falling thickly to
the ground. Park had to step back
not to catch him.
‘Fuck,’ Richie said, raising
himself up on his knees 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 employee
discount.) He looked at Richie’s
head, hanging from his neck like a
leather bag.
Park hated him more than he
thought it was possible to hate
someone. More than he’d ever
thought 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 driveway
slopped into the older man’s open
mouth. Richie coughed violently
and banked into the ground.
Park waited for him to get up,
but Richie just lay there spitting
curses, and rubbing salt and gravel
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 that rattled in her hands.
None of them opened, none of
them read.
It was bad when the letters
came every day. It was worse
when they stopped.
Sometimes she laid them out
on the carpet like tarot cards, like
Wonka
bars,
and
wondered
whether it was too late.
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
holding
hands
with
a
mannequin, and it was such a
relief that he kissed her. He fell
asleep on prom night in his tuxedo
pants and a Fugazi T-shirt.
He woke up the next morning
when something light fell on his
shirt – he opened his eyes. His dad
was standing over him.
‘Mail call,’ his dad said, almost
gently. Park put his hand to his
heart.
Eleanor hadn’t written him a
letter.
It was a postcard. ‘Greetings
from the Land of 10,000 Lakes,’ it
said on the front. Park turned it
over and recognized her scratchy
handwriting. It filled his head with
song lyrics.
He
sat
up.
He
smiled.
Something heavy and winged took
off from his chest.
Eleanor hadn’t written him a
letter, it was a postcard.
Just three words long.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I would like to thank some of the
people who made this book
possible for me – and who made
me possible for this book: First, to
Colleen Eickelman, who insisted
that I pass the eighth grade.
And to the Bent and Huntley
families, who kept me alive with
kindness.
To my brother Forest, who
promises that he isn’t just saying
things because I’m his sister.
To Nicola Barr, Sara O’Keeffe and
Natalie Braine for being so fierce
and so certain, for making the
Atlantic Ocean disappear and,
most of all, for looking out for
Eleanor.
Thank you, while I’m at it, to
everyone at Orion and St Martin’s
Press.
Especially to the lovely and
insightful Sara Goodman, whom I
trusted implicitly as soon as she
sat down next to me on the bus.
To my dear friend Christopher
Schelling, the best-case scenario.
And finally, I would like to thank
Kai, Laddie and Rosey for their
love and their patience. (You’re
my all-time favorites.)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Rainbow Rowell is a newspaper
columnist in Omaha, Nebraska,
where she lives with her husband
and two sons.
Copyright
AN ORION EBOOK
First published in Great Britain in
2012 by Orion Books.
This eBook first published in 2012
by Orion Books.
Copyright © Rainbow Rowell
2012
The moral right of Rainbow
Rowell to be identified as the
author of this work has been
asserted by her in accordance with
the Copyright, Designs and
Patents Act 1988.
All characters and events in this
publication are fictitious and any
resemblance to real persons, living
or dead, is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this
publication may be reproduced,
stored in a retrieval system or
transmitted in any form or by any
means without the prior
permission in writing of the
publisher, nor be otherwise
circulated in any form of binding
or cover other than that in which it
is published without a similar
condition, including this
condition, being imposed on the
subsequent purchaser.
A CIP catalogue record for this
book is available from the British
Library.
ISBN: 978 1 4091 1633 2
Orion Books
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