Eleanor & Park

T-shirt. A size bigger than last year’s, which meant it would be a size too big.

His parents gave him a fifty-dollar gift certificate to Drastic Plastic, the punk-rock record store downtown. (Park was surprised that they’d think of that. And he was surprised that DP sold gift certificates. Not very punk.) He also got two black sweaters he might actually wear, some Avon cologne in a bottle shaped like an electric guitar, and an empty key ring – which his dad made sure everybody noticed.

Park’s sixteenth birthday had come and gone, and he didn’t even care anymore about getting his license and driving himself to school. He wasn’t going to give up his only guaranteed time with Eleanor.

She’d already told him that as awesome as last night was – and they both agreed it was awesome – she couldn’t risk sneaking out again.

‘Any one of my siblings could have woken up, they still could, and they would definitely tell on me. They have very confused allegiances.’

‘But if you’re quiet …’

That’s when she’d told him that, most nights, she shared a room with all of her brothers and sisters. All of them. A room about the size of his, she said, ‘minus the waterbed.’

They were sitting against the back door of the school, in a little alcove where no one would see them unless they were really looking, and where the snow didn’t fall directly on their faces.

They sat next to each other, facing each other, holding hands.

There was nothing between them now. Nothing stupid and selfish just taking up space.

‘So you have two brothers and two sisters?’

‘Three brothers, one sister.’

‘What are their names?’

‘Why?’

‘I’m just curious,’ he said. ‘Is it classified?’

She sighed. ‘Ben, Maisie …’

‘Maisie?’

‘Yeah.

Then

Mouse



Jeremiah. He’s five. Then the baby. Little Richie.’

Park laughed. ‘You call him “Little Richie”?’

‘Well, his dad is Big Richie, not that he’s very big either …’

‘I know, but like Little Richard? “Tutti-Frutti”?’

‘Oh my God, I never thought of that. Why haven’t I ever thought of that?’

He pulled her hands to his chest. He still hadn’t managed to touch Eleanor anywhere below the chin or above the elbow. He didn’t think she’d necessarily stop him if he tried, but what if she did?

That’d be awful. Anyway, her hands and her face were excellent.

‘Do you guys get along?’

‘Sometimes … They’re all crazy.’

‘How can a five-year-old be crazy?’

‘Oh my God, Mouse? He’s the craziest of them all. He’s always got a hammer or a jackrabbit or something stuck in his back pocket, and he refuses to wear a shirt.’

Park laughed. ‘How is Maisie crazy?’

‘Well, she’s mean. For starters.

And she fights like a street person.

Like,

take-off-your-earrings

fights.’

‘How old is she?’

‘Eight. No, nine.’

‘What about Ben?’

‘Ben …’ She looked away.

‘You’ve seen Ben. He’s almost Josh’s age. He needs a haircut.’

‘Does Richie hate them, too?’

Eleanor pushed Park’s hands forward. ‘Why do you want to talk about this?’

He pushed back. ‘ Because. It’s your life. Because I’m interested.

It’s like you’ve got all these weird barriers set up, like you only want me to have access to this tiny part of you …’

‘Yes,’ she said, crossing her arms. ‘Barriers. Caution tape. I’m doing you a favor.’

‘Don’t,’ he said. ‘I can handle it.’ He put his thumb between her eyebrows and tried to smooth out the frown. ‘This whole stupid fight was about keeping secrets.’

‘Keeping secrets about your demonic ex-girlfriend. I don’t have any demonic ex-anythings.’

‘Does

Richie

hate

your

brothers and sister, too?’

‘Stop saying his name.’ She was whispering.

‘I’m sorry.’ Park whispered back.

‘He hates everybody, I think.’

‘Not your mom.’

‘Especially her.’

‘Is he mean to her?’

Eleanor rolled her eyes and wiped her cheek with her sweater sleeve. ‘Uh. Yeah.’

Park took her hands again.

‘Why doesn’t she leave?’

She shook her head. ‘I don’t think she can … I don’t think there’s enough of her left.’

‘Is she scared of him?’ he asked.

‘Yeah …’

‘Are you scared of him?’

‘Me?’

‘I know you’re scared of getting kicked out, but are you scared of him?’

‘No.’ She lifted up her chin.

‘No … I just have to lay low, you know? Like as long as I stay out of his way, I’m fine. I just have to be invisible.’

Park smiled.

‘What?’ she asked.

‘You. Invisible.’

She smiled. He let go of her hands and held her face. Her cheeks were cold, and her eyes were fathomless in the dark.

She was all he could see.

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