‘You know what I mean.’
He started driving west. There was nothing east 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 my dad’s out of town.’
‘Your dad wants you to drive. All you have to do 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 sit up now?’
‘I’ll sit up when we get to Twenty-fourth Street.’
She sat up at 24th Street, but they didn’t talk again 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 downtown, and that was it. ‘Where do you want to go?’
‘I don’t know,’ she said.
Eleanor
She wanted to go to Inspiration Point. Which, as far 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 up the windows?’ Because, what would he think of her? And what if he had an answer?
Eleanor was trying really hard not be overawed by Park’s driving skills, but every time he changed lanes or checked the rearview mirror, she caught herself swooning. He might as well be lighting a cigarette or ordering a Scotch on the rocks, it made him seem so much older …
Eleanor didn’t have her learner’s permit. Her mom wasn’t even allowed to drive, so getting Eleanor’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 together? Where do people go to be together? I don’t even 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 turned around.
‘We’ll go downtown.’
Park
They did get out of the car. Once they were downtown, Park wanted to show Eleanor Drastic Plastic and the Antiquarium and all the other record stores. She’d never even been to the Old Market, which was practically the only place to go in Omaha.
There were a bunch of other kids hanging out downtown, a lot of them looking much weirder than Eleanor. Park took her to his favorite pizza place. And then his favorite ice cream place. And his third favorite comic book shop.
He kept pretending that they were on a real date, and then he’d remember that they were.
Eleanor
Park held her hand the whole night, like he was her boyfriend. Because he is your boyfriend, dummy, she kept telling herself.
Much to the dismay of the girl working at the record store. She had eight holes in each ear, and she clearly thought Park was a whole closet full of cat’s pajamas. The girl looked at Eleanor like, are you kidding me? And Eleanor looked back like, I know, right?
They walked down every street of the Market area, and then across the street, into a park. Eleanor didn’t even know all this existed. She hadn’t realized Omaha could be such a nice place to live. (In her head, this was Park’s doing, too. The world rebuilt itself into a better place around him.)
Park
They ended up at Central Park. Omaha’s version. Eleanor had never been here before either, and even though it was wet and muddy and still kind of 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.’
They sat on one of the park benches and watched the geese settle in on the bank of the manmade lake. Park put his arm around Eleanor and 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 transmission. 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 her hair.
‘Because it’s prom,’ he said.
‘And it’s lame,’ she said.
‘How do you know?’
‘Because the theme is “I Want to Know What Love 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. ‘But it’s not something you can go back and do. You only 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 mouse and bird friends plenty of time to make me a dress. Totally. Yes. Let’s go to prom.’
‘You think it’s never going to happen,’ he said. ‘You’ll see. I’m not going anywhere.’
‘Not until you learn how to drive a stick.’
She was relentless.
Eleanor
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 could tell her mom that she was going to prom with Tina. (Good old Tina.) And she could get ready at Park’s house, his mom would love that. The only thing Eleanor would have to figure out was the dress …
Did they even make prom dresses in her size? She’d have to shop in the mother-of-the-bride section. And she’d have to rob a bank. Seriously. Even if a hundred-dollar bill fell right out of the sky, Eleanor could never spend it on something as 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 her mom.
Prom. As if.
Park
After she’d agreed to go to next year’s prom with him, Eleanor also agreed to accompany Park to his first cotillion, the Academy Awards after-party, and any and all ‘balls’ to which he received invitations.
She giggled so much, the geese complained.
‘Go on and honk,’ Eleanor said. ‘You think you can intimidate me with your swanlike good looks, 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, but he didn’t actually want to talk about how she managed to be attracted to him.
Eleanor was studying him coolly.
‘You’re the reason that goose thinks I’m shallow,’ she said.
‘I think it’s a gander, right?’ Park said. ‘The males are ganders?’
‘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 l
ooks.’ He ran his hand through his hair and looked down at the mud.
‘Are you saying that you’re not good-looking?’ she asked.
‘I don’t want to talk about this,’ Park said, hanging onto the back of his neck. ‘Can we go back to talking about prom?
‘Are you saying it just so that I’ll tell you how cute you are?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘I’m saying it because it’s kind of obvious.’
‘It’s not obvious,’ Eleanor said. She turned on the bench so she was facing him, and pulled his hand down.
‘Nobody thinks Asian guys are hot,’ Park said finally. He had to look away from her when he said it – way away, he turned his head completely. ‘Not here, anyway. I assume Asian guys do all right in Asia.’
‘That’s not true,’ Eleanor argued. ‘Look at your mom and dad …’
‘Asian girls are different. White guys think they’re exotic.’
‘But …’
‘Are you trying to come up with a super-hot Asian guy, so you can prove me wrong? Because there aren’t any. I’ve had my whole life to think about this.’
Eleanor folded her arms. Park looked out at the 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.’
‘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 Korean girls, right? But the nurses don’t use their R&R to go to Seoul to pick up hot Korean guys. Everything that makes Asian girls seem exotic makes Asian guys seem like girls.’
The gander was still honking at them. Park picked up a chunk of melting snow and tossed it half-heartedly in the goose’s direction. He still couldn’t look at Eleanor.
‘I don’t know what any of that has to do with me,’ she said.
‘It has everything to do with me,’ he answered.
‘No.’ She put her hand on his chin and made him face her. ‘It doesn’t … I don’t even know what it means that you’re Korean.’
‘Beyond the obvious?’
‘Yeah,’ she said, ‘exactly. Beyond the obvious.’
Then she kissed him. He loved it when she kissed him first.
‘When I look at you,’ she said, leaning into him, ‘I don’t know if I’m thinking you’re cute because you’re Korean, but I don’t think it’s in spite 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 get to the car.
‘I don’t even know what it means to be Korean,’ he said.
‘Well, I don’t know what it means to be Danish 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 main thing.’
‘I’m telling you,’ she said, ‘I think your main thing might be that you’re cute. You’re practically adorable.’
Park didn’t mind the word adorable.
Eleanor
They’d parked on the far side of the Market, and the lot was mostly empty by the time they got back. Eleanor felt tense and reckless again. Maybe it was something about this car …
The Impala might not look pervy on the outside, not like a fully carpeted custom van or something – but the inside was a different story. The front seat was almost as big as Eleanor’s bed, and the back seat was an Erica Jong novel just waiting to happen.
Park opened the door for her, then ran around the car to get in. ‘It’s not as late as I thought,’ he said, looking at the clock on the dash. 8:30.
‘Yeah …’ she said. She put her hand down on the 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. Every time she thought about kissing him, he was already 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 and caught his sleeve before he could turn it.
He dropped the keys and, all in one motion, he turned and scooped her into his arms. Seriously, scooped. He was always stronger than she expected him to be.
If you were watching them now (and you totally could because the windows weren’t fogged over yet) you’d think that Eleanor and Park did this kind of thing all the time. Not just the once before.
This time was already different.
They weren’t moving forward in orderly steps, like a game of Mother May I? They weren’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 of him. And Park kept pulling her to him, even when she couldn’t come any closer.
She was wedged between Park and the steering wheel, and when he pushed his hand up her shirt, she leaned against the horn. They both jumped, 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 bleeding. ‘You?’
‘Yeah …’ He was breathing heavy, and it was 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’t think, Park.
‘Do you think we should … don’t think I’m a creep, okay? Do you think we should get in the back seat?’
She pushed off of him and slid over the back seat. God, it was huge, it was glorious.
Not even a second later, Park landed on top of her.
Park
She felt so good underneath, even better than he’d expected. (And he’d expected her to feel like heaven, plus nirvana, plus that scene in Willy Wonka where Charlie starts to fly.) Park was breathing so hard, he couldn’t get any air.
It seemed impossible that this could feel as good to Eleanor as it did to him – but she was making these faces … She looked like a girl in a Prince video. If Eleanor was feeling anything like what he was feeling, how were they ever supposed 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.
CHAPTER 46
Eleanor
Richie’s truck was in the driveway, but the whole house was dark, thank God. Eleanor was sure that something would give her away. Her hair. Her shirt. Her mouth. She felt radioactive.
She and Park had been sitting in the alley for a while, in the front seat, just holding hands and feeling whiplashed. At least, that’s how Eleanor felt. It wasn’t that she and Park had gone too far, necessarily – but they’d gone a whole lot farther than she’d been prepared for. She’d never expected to have a love scene straight out of a Judy Blume book.
Park must be feeling strange, too. He sat through two Bon Jovi songs without even touching the radio. Eleanor had left a mark on his shoulder, but you couldn’t see it anymore.
This was her mom’s fault.
If Eleanor were allowed to have normal relationships with boys, she wouldn’t have felt like she had to hit a home run the very first time she ended up in the back seat of a car – she wouldn’t have felt like it might be her only time at bat. (And she wouldn’t be making these stupid baseball metaphors.)
It hadn’t been a home run, anyway. They’d stopped at second base. (At least, she thought it was second base. She’d heard conflicting definitions 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’m usually home by now.’
He nodded but didn’t look up or let go of her hand.
‘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 goodbye 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 in the alley for him to see her blush.
‘Goodbye,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’ She opened the door to the Impala; it weighed as much as a horse. Then she stopped and looked back at him. ‘But we’re okay, right?’
‘We’re perfect,’ he said, leaning forward quickly and kissing her cheek. ‘I’ll wait for you to get in.’
As soon as Eleanor slipped in the house, she could hear them fighting.
Richie was yelling about something, and her mom was crying. Eleanor moved toward her bedroom as quietly as she could.
All the little kids were on the floor, even Maisie. They were sleeping through the chaos. I wonder how often I sleep through it. Eleanor thought. She managed to swing onto her bed without stepping on anybody, but she landed on the cat. He squawked, and she pulled him up and onto her lap. ‘Shhh,’ she breathed, scratching his neck.
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