XTC was no good for drowning out the morons at the back of the bus.
Park pressed his headphones into his ears.
Tomorrow he was going to bring Skinny Puppy or the Misfits. Or maybe he'd make a special bus tape with as much screaming and wailing on it as possible.
He could get back to New Wave in November, after he got his driver's license. His parents had already said Park could have his mom's Impala, and he'd been saving up for a new tape deck. Once he started driving to school, he could listen to whatever he wanted or nothing at all, and he'd get to sleep in an extra twenty minutes.
"That doesn't exist!" somebody shouted behind him.
"It so fucking does!" Steve shouted back. "Drunken Monkey style, man, it's a real fucking thing. You can kill somebody with it. "
"You're full of shit."
"You're full of shit," Steve said. "Park! Hey, Park."
Park heard him, but didn't answer. Sometimes, if you ignored Steve for a minute, he moved on to someone else. Knowing that was 80 percent of surviving with Steve as your neighbor. The other 20 percent was just keeping your head down.
Which Park had momentarily forgotten. A ball of paper hit him in the back of the head.
"Those were my Human Growth and Development notes, dicklick," Tina said.
"I'm sorry, baby," Steve said. "I'll teach you all about human growth and developmentwhat do you need to know?"
"Teach her Drunken Monkey style," somebody said.
"Park!" Steve shouted.
Park pulled down his headphones and turned to the back of the bus. Steve was holding court in the last seat. Even sitting, his head practically touched the roof. Steve always looked like he was surrounded by doll furniture. He'd looked like a grown man since the seventh grade, and that was before he grew a full beard. Slightly before.
Sometimes Park wondered if Steve was with Tina because she made him look even more like a monster. Most of the girls from the Flats were small, but Tina couldn't be five feet. Massive hair included.
Once, back in middle school, some guy had tried to give Steve shit about how he better not get Tina pregnant because if he did, his giant babies would kill her. "They'll bust out of her stomach like in Aliens," the guy said. Steve broke his little finger on the guy's face.
When Park's dad heard, he said, "Somebody needs to teach that Murphy kid how to make a fist." But Park hoped nobody would. The guy who Steve hit couldn't open his eyes for a week.
Park tossed Tina her balled-up homework. She caught it.
"Park," Steve said, "tell Mikey about Drunken Monkey karate."
"I don't know anything about it." Park shrugged.
"But it exists, right?"
"I guess I've heard of it."
"There," Steve said. He looked for something to throw at Mikey, but couldn't find anything. He pointed instead. "I fucking told you."
"What the fuck does Sheridan know about kung fu?" Mikey said.
"Are you retarded?" Steve said. "His mom's Chinese."
Mikey looked at Park carefully. Park smiled and narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, I guess I see it," Mikey said. "I always thought you were Mexican."
"Shit, Mikey," Steve said, "you're such a fucking racist."
"She's not Chinese," Tina said. "She's Korean."
"Who is?" Steve asked.
Park's mom had been cutting Tina's hair since grade school. They both had the exact same hairstyle: long spiral perms with tall feathered bangs.
"She's fucking hot is what she is," Steve said, cracking himself up. "No offense, Park."
Park managed another smile and slunk back into his seat, putting his headphones back on and cranking up the volume. He could still hear Steve and Mikey, four seats behind him.
Excerpted from Eleanor & Park by Rainbow Rowell. Copyright © 2013 by Rainbow Rowell. Excerpted by permission of St. Martin's Press. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Blood at the Root
"A gripping, timely, and important examination of American racism."
- PW Starred Review
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