"You go where you want," his mom said. "I'm not even very hungry. You go. Eat dinner. See movie or something."
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"You want me to drive?"
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"Or we could go get pizza," his mom said.
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"Yeah, go," she said, "I never get house to myself."
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"I don't feel like cooking dinner," his mom said.
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# Park #
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It was just the three of them, Park, his mom and Eleanor, sitting on the couch, watching Wheel of Fortune. His dad had gone turkey hunting and wouldn't be home until late, and Josh was staying over at a friend's.
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"I could heat up a pizza," Park said.
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"Yeah," Park said, grinning, "let's go get pizza."
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Jeez, now his mom was calling him a pussy.
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"No, I can drive. Do you want Pizza Hut? Should we call it in first?"
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"I feel too lazy," his mom said. "You and Eleanor go get pizza."
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"Sure," his mom said. "You too scared?"
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Park looked at Eleanor; he didn't know what the rules were, as far as going out. Her eyes got big, and she shrugged.
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"Are you sure?" he asked.
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He and Eleanor both stared at her.
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She was home all day, every day by herself, but Park decided not to mention it. He and Eleanor stood up cautiously from the couch. Like they were expecting his mom to say "April fools!" two weeks late.
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"Thanks…" Park said, still hesitant. "I guess we'll go now?"
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"Keys on hook," she said. "Hand me my purse." She gave him twenty dollars from her wallet, and then ten more.
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"It's nothing I haven't seen before," he said.
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"Not yet…" His mom looked at Eleanor's clothes and frowned. "Eleanor can't go out like that." If they wore the same size, she'd be forcing Eleanor into a stonewashed miniskirt about now.
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"Just let me fix your hair," his mom said. She pulled Eleanor into the bathroom and started pulling bobby pins out of her hair. "Down, down, down," she said.
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"But I've looked like this all day," Eleanor said. She was wearing army surplus pants and a short-sleeved men's shirt over some kind of long-sleeved purple T-shirt. Park thought she looked cool. (He actually thought she looked adorable, but that word would make Eleanor gag.)
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Park leaned against the doorway and watched.
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"It's weird that you're watching this," Eleanor said.
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"Park probably help me do your hair on wedding day," his mom said.
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He and Eleanor both looked at the floor. "I'll wait for you in the living room," he said.
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They walked out to the Impala, and Park opened the door for Eleanor. "I can open my own door," she said. And by the time he got to his side, she'd leaned over the seat and pushed his door open.
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"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."
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"Don't drive by the Rail," she said.
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"Oh," he said, "yeah." He started the car and looked over at her. "Get down more. Your hair glows in the dark."
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"Turn right here."
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He started driving west. There was nothing east of the Flats but the river.
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"You know what I mean."
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"Where should we go?" he asked.
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"Thanks."
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"I don't know," she said, sinking down in her seat. "Can we just get out of the neighborhood? I feel like I'm sneaking across the Berlin Wall."
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"The what?"
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"Okay…" He looked down at her -- she was crouching on the floor -- and laughed.
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"Okay," his mom said, "go. Have fun."
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In a few minutes, she was ready. Her hair looked perfect, every curl shiny and on purpose, and her lips were a glossy pink. He could tell from here that she'd taste like strawberries.
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"It's not funny."
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She wanted to go to Inspiration Point. Which, as far as she knew, only existed on Happy Days.
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"The problem is me," he said, feeling irritated. "Hey, we're out of the neighborhood, can you sit up now?"
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"I don't know," she said.
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"Where are we going?" she asked.
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"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?"
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She sat up at 24th Street, but they didn't talk again until 42nd.
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"Your dad wants you to drive. All you have to do is learn how to drive a stick."
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# Eleanor #
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"I already know how to drive a stick."
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"I'll sit up when we get to Twenty-fourth Street."
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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…
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"Then what's the problem?"
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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?
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"But do we have to do something?"
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"What do you mean?"
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"Well, we have to go somewhere…" Park said.
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"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…"
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He pulled into a parking lot and turned around.
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"Do we have to go somewhere?" she asked.
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# Park #
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He looked over at her, then looked back, nervously, at the road. "Okay," he said. "Yeah. Yeah, just let me…"
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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.
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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.
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"We'll go downtown."
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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.
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# Eleanor #
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He kept pretending that they were on a real date, and then he'd remember that they were.
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Park held her hand the whole night, like he was her boyfriend. Because he is your boyfriend, dummy, she kept telling herself.
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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?
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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.)
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# Park #
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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.
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"Oh, look," she said. "Swans."
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"I think those are geese," he said.
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"Let's keep doing this," he said.
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"Actually, you get three chances…"
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"Are you drunk, it's Foreigner."
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"Because the theme is 'I Want to Know What Love Is'."
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"Okay," she said. She didn't say anything about him learning how to drive a manual transmission. Which he appreciated.
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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.
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"We should go to prom," he said.
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"How do you know?"
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Because he wanted to see Eleanor in a pretty dress. Because he wanted to help his mom do her hair.
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"I know what it is, but why would we go there?"
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"Prom. You know, prom."
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"Because it's prom," he said.
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"What?" She lifted up her head.
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"That's not such a bad song," he said.
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"And it's lame," she said.
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"What?"
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"Going out."
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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."
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"Well, they're the best-looking geese I've ever seen."
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"Okay, will you go to prom with me next year?"
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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."
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"You think it's never going to happen," he said. "You'll see. I'm not going anywhere."
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"Not until you learn how to drive a stick."
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She was relentless.
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# Eleanor #
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The amount of chicanery it would take to slip prom past her mother… it boggled the mind.
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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…
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Prom. Right. That was going to happen.
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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.
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Prom. As if.
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"Lucky for me," Park said.
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# Park #
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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.
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"Oh, right, gander. That suits him. Pretty boy… So, why is that lucky for you?"
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"Why is that lucky for you?"
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"I think it's a gander, right?" Park said. "The males are ganders?"
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Eleanor was studying him coolly. "You're the reason that goose thinks I'm shallow," she said.
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"Because," he said, like both syllables hurt.
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"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."
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Actually, she'd probably just give it to her mom.
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"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.
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She giggled so much, the geese complained.
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She'd spend it on new Vans. Or a decent bra. Or a boom box…
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"I thought I could you ask you anything…" she said. "Because, why?"
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"But…"
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"Are you saying that you're not good-looking?" she asked.
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"No," he said. "I'm saying it because it's kind of obvious."
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"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?"
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"Are you saying it just so that I'll tell you how cute you are?"
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"Isn't that my line?"
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"It's not obvious," Eleanor said. She turned on the bench so she was facing him, and pulled his hand down.
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"Because, why?" she asked.
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"That's not true," Eleanor argued. "Look at your mom and dad…"
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"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."
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"Because of my all-American good looks." He ran his hand through his hair and looked down at the mud.
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"Asian girls are different. White guys think they're exotic."
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"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."
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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.
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"Kung Fu?"
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"Yeah."
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"That actor was white, and that character was a monk."
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"What about…"
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"Beyond the obvious?"
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"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."
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"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."
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Then she kissed him. He loved it when she kissed him first.
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"It has everything to do with me," he answered.
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"I don't know what any of that has to do with me," she said.
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"What about that old TV show," she said, "with the karate guy?"
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"Yeah," she said, "exactly. Beyond the obvious."
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Eleanor folded her arms. Park looked out at the lake.
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Park didn't mind the word adorable.
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"And good thing I'm never getting out of this dump."
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"I think so," he said, "because it's the number-one thing people use to identify me. It's my main thing."
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"Well, I don't know what it means to be Danish and Scottish," she said. "Does it matter?"
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He loved it when she said his name.
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He stood up and pulled Eleanor to her feet. They held hands and cut through the park to get to the car.
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It was getting cold, and probably late; Park wasn't wearing a watch.
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"Good thing I'm the only Korean guy in Omaha," he said.
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"I don't even know what it means to be Korean," he said.
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"Maybe I'm really attracted to Korean guys," she said, "and I don't even know it."
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"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…"
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"I'm telling you," she said, "I think your main thing might be that you're cute. You're practically adorable."
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"Are you hungry?" he asked.
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"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.
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"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.
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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.
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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…
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# Eleanor #
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Read my mind now, she thought.
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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.
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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.
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Park laid his hand on top of hers.
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"No," she said.
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This time was already different.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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"Are you okay?" he asked.
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"Yeah…" He was breathing heavy, and it was wonderful. I did this to him, she told herself.
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"Yeah," she said, glad that he didn't pull his hand away. Her tongue didn't seem to be bleeding. "You?"
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# Park #
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He pulled her shirt up over her head.
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"Oh…" He laughed, he couldn't help it. "Okay. I'll give you Bruce Lee…"
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She arched her back and he closed his eyes. He'd never get enough of her.
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She pushed off of him and slid over the back seat. God, it was huge, it was glorious.
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"Super-hot Asian guy. Bruce Lee."
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"What?" That didn't seem right. Park's hands froze.
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"What?" He probably thought they should stop. No, she thought, no, I don't think. Don't think, Park.
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Not even a second later, Park landed on top of her.
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"Do you think…" he said.
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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.
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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?
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"Bruce Lee," she whispered.
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"Do you think we should… don't think I'm a creep, okay? Do you think we should get in the back seat?"
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