Would he look away?
He did look different. More beautiful than ever. When she got on the bus, Park was sitting tall in the seat, so she could see him. (Or maybe so that he could see her.) And when he let her into the seat, he sat back down again against her. They both slouched down low.
‘That was the longest weekend of my life,’ he said.
She laughed and leaned into him.
‘Are you over me?’ he asked.
She wished she could say things like that. That she could ask him questions like that, even in a joking way.
‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘Over and over and over.’
‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah, no.’
She reached into his jacket and slipped the Beatles tape into his T-shirt pocket. He caught her hand and held it to his heart.
‘What’s this?’ He pulled the tape out with his other hand.
‘The
greatest
songs
ever
written. You’re welcome.’
He rubbed her hand against his chest. Just barely. Just enough to make her blush.
‘Thank you,’ he said.
She waited until they were at her locker to tell him the other thing. She didn’t want anyone to hear. He was standing next to her and
purposely
bumping
his
backpack into her shoulder.
‘I told my mom that I might go over to a friend’s house after school.’
‘You did?’
‘Yeah, it doesn’t have to be today though. I don’t think she’ll change her mind.’
‘No, today. Come over today.’
‘Don’t you have to ask your mom?’
He shook his head. ‘She doesn’t care. I can even have girls in my room, if I keep the door open.’
‘Girl-zzz? You’ve had enough girls in your room to require a ruling?’
‘Oh, yeah,’ he said. ‘You know me.’
I don’t, she thought to herself, not really.
Park
For the first time in weeks, Park didn’t have that anxious feeling in his stomach on the way home from school, like he had to soak up enough of Eleanor to keep him until the next day.
He had a different anxious feeling. Now that he was actually introducing Eleanor to his mom, he couldn’t help but see her the way his mom was going to.
His mom was a beautician who sold Avon. She never left the house without touching up her mascara. When Patti Smith was on Saturday Night Live, his mom had gotten upset – ‘Why she want to look like man? It’s so sad.’
Eleanor, today, was wearing her sharkskin suit jacket and an old plaid cowboy shirt. She had more in common with his grandpa than his mom.
And it wasn’t just the clothes.
It was her.
Eleanor wasn’t … nice.
She was good. She was honorable. She was honest. She would definitely help an old lady across the street. But nobody – not even the old lady – would ever say, ‘Have you met that Eleanor Douglas? What a nice girl.’
Park’s mom liked nice. She loved nice. She liked smiling and small talk and eye contact … All things Eleanor sucked at.
Also, his mom didn’t get sarcasm. And he was pretty sure it wasn’t a language thing. She just didn’t get it. She called David Letterman ‘the ugly, mean one on after Johnny.’
Park realized that his hands were sweating and let go of Eleanor’s. He put his hand on her knee instead, and that felt so good, so new, he stopped thinking about his mom for a few minutes.
When they got to his stop, he stood in the aisle and waited for her. But she shook her head. ‘I’ll meet you there,’ she said.
He felt relieved. And then guilty. As soon as the bus pulled away, he ran to his house. His brother wouldn’t be home yet, that was good. ‘Mom!’
‘In here!’ she called from the kitchen. She was painting her nails a pearly pink.
‘Mom,’ he said. ‘Hey. Um, Eleanor’s coming over in few minutes. My, um, my Eleanor.
Now. Is that okay?’
‘Right now?’ She shook the bottle. Click, click, click.
‘Yeah, don’t make a big deal, okay? Just … be cool.’
‘Okay,’ she said. ‘I’m cool.’
He
nodded,
then
looked
around the kitchen and the living room to make sure there was nothing weird sitting out. He checked his room, too. His mom had made his bed.
He opened the door before Eleanor knocked.
‘Hi,’ she said. She looked nervous. Well, she looked angry, but he was pretty sure that was because she was nervous.
‘Hey,’ he said. This morning, all he’d been able to think about was how to get more servings of Eleanor into his day, but now that she was here … he wished he had thought this through. ‘Come on in,’ he said. ‘And smile,’ he whispered at the second-to-last second, ‘okay?’
‘What?’
‘ Smile.’
‘Why?’
‘Never mind.’
His mom was standing in the doorway to the kitchen.
‘Mom, this is Eleanor,’ he said.
His mom smiled broadly.
Eleanor smiled, too, but it was all messed up. She looked like she was squinting into a bright light or getting ready to tell someone bad news.