CHAPTER 3

Park

She didn't talk to him on the ride home.

Park had spent all day trying to think of how

to get away from the new girl. He'd have to

switch seats. That was the only answer. But

switch to what seat? He didn't want to force himself on somebody else. And even the act of switching seats would catch Steve's attention.

Park had expected Steve to start in on him as soon he let the girl sit down, but Steve had gone right back to talking about kung fu again. Park, by the way, knew plenty about kung fu. Because his dad was obsessed with martial arts, not because his mom was Korean. Park and his little brother, Josh, had been taking taekwando since they could walk.

Switch seats, how …?

He could probably find a seat up front with

the freshmen, but that would be a spectacular show of weakness. And he almost hated to think about leaving the weird new girl at the back of the bus by herself.

He hated himself for thinking like this.

If his dad knew he was thinking like this,

he'd call Park a pussy. Out loud, for once. If his grandma knew, she'd smack him on the back of the head. 'Where are you manners?' she'd say. 'Is that any way to treat somebody who's down on her luck?'

But Park didn't have any luck – or status – to spare on that dumb redhead. He had just enough to keep himself out of trouble. And he knew it was crappy, but he was kind of grateful that people like that girl existed. Because people like Steve and Mikey and Tina existed, too, and they needed to be fed. If it wasn't that redhead, it was going to be somebody else. And if it wasn't somebody else, it was going to be Park.

Steve had let it go this morning, but he

wouldn't keep letting it go …

Park could hear his grandma again. 'Seriously, son, you're giving yourself a stomach ache because you did something nice while other people were watching?'

It wasn't even that nice, Park thought. He'd

let the girl sit down, but he'd sworn at her. When she showed up in his English class that afternoon, it felt like she was there to haunt him …

'Eleanor,' Mr Stessman said. 'What a powerful name. It's a queen's name, you know.'

'It's the name of the fat Chipette,'somebody

behind Park whispered. Somebody else laughed.

Mr Stessman gestured to an empty desk up

front.

'We're reading poetry today, Eleanor,' Mr

Stessman said. 'Dickinson. Perhaps you'd like to get us started.'

Mr Stessman opened her book to the right

page and pointed. 'Go ahead,' he said, 'clear and loud. I'll tell you when to stop.'

The new girl looked at Mr Stessman like she hoped he was kidding. When it was clear that he wasn't – he almost never was – she started to read.

'I had been hungry all the years,' she read. A few kids laughed. Jesus, Park thought, only Mr Stessman would make a chubby girl read a poem about eating on her first day of class.

'Carry on, Eleanor,' Mr Stessman said.

She started over, which Park thought was a

terrible idea.

'I had been hungry all the years,' she said,

louder this time.

'My noon had come, to dine,

'I, trembling, drew the table near,

'And touched the curious wine.

'T'was this on tables I had seen,

'When turning, hungry, lone,

'I looked in windows, for the wealth

'I could not hope to own.'

Mr Stessman didn't stop her, so she read the whole poem in that cool, defiant voice. The same voice she'd used on Tina.

'That was wonderful,' Mr Stessman said

when she was done. He was beaming. 'Just wonderful. I hope you'll stay with us, Eleanor, at least until we do Medea. That's a voice that arrives on a chariot drawn by dragons.'

When the girl showed up in history, Mr

Sanderhoff didn't make a scene. But he did say, 'Ah. Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine,' when she handed him her paperwork. She sat down a few rows ahead of Park and, as far as he could tell, spent the whole period staring at the sun.

Park couldn't think of a way to get rid of her

on the bus. Or a way to get rid of himself. So he put his headphones on before the girl sat down and turned the volume all the way up.

Thank God she didn't try to talk to him.