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.