i. it’s supposed to be something of a movie moment, where seven-year-old ezra park kneels at the edge of his bed, fingers clasped tightly in prayer, head bowed down. the parks aren’t religious, not really; but he’d felt as if he needed this one moment to pray. “hi, god, it’s me, ezra,” he whispered, eyes squeezed shut. “i’ve got a cousin coming over and i just wanna pray that they’re good. you know i don’t have siblings and i’d really like someone like that, you know? send me an angel, god, please. thank you.”

nothing prepares him for the kind of person hayoung park is.

ii. there’s an unspoken agreement between them: don’t speak to me, and i won’t speak to you. granted, it seems a little too extreme for cousins who live in the same city, but really, they can’t stand each other. he’s nine and forced to sit across her at the dinner table, eyes looking anywhere other than at her. ezra wonders, for a brief moment, what it’d be like to ‘accidentally’ fling a spoonful of gojuchang at her, just to see how her reaction would be. but his attention is drawn away by the next course coming in, and the thought fades as quickly as it came in.

iii. he’s seen addie verver at her house a couple of times, when his parents force him to run errands, pick things up from their house and come home with them. the way hadley acts in front of people other than him makes his stomach roll; because really, the worst thing is that people actually believe her silly façade. she’s a good actress, sure, but ezra is genuinely convinced she is the devil incarnate, and her secrets will spill soon. he passes by her room when he picks things up from his uncle’s places, addie laying on her bed absentmindedly. he has half the mind to step in and divulge every evil thing her best friend has done to him, and stay long enough to watch the carnage unfold. but he has no reason to believe she’ll believe him, not when her cousin is so much closer to her.

as he steps away, he locks eyes with hadley. they don’t say anything.

iv. lying shouldn’t come so easily to people, especially not someone like ezra park. but there’s a party the night before the sat, and he knows that if he doesn’t show up, the senior year that follows will be anything but remarkable. so he sneaks out, dressed so he doesn’t stick out like a sore thumb and alert anyone to him. he’s having a good time when he sees her in the crowd, eyes on him, blazing with fury and a hellish smirk on his lips. he knows she’s going to tell on him. but her attention changes when a pretty girl approaches her, that smile turning soft, and ezra watches them head upstairs. he wants to follow them and make sure she doesn’t tattle, but it’s getting late and he’d rather not risk his chances. whatever lie she can try and cook up, he can do better. it’s a park family thing.

v. ezra watches her with a scowl on his lips, arms crossed and lower lip jutting out as he slumps on the couch. he doesn’t want to talk to her, doesn’t want to be part of the conversation where both sets of parents compliment hadley on whatever academic victory she’s got this time; and all ezra gets in return are vacant smiles and a ‘that’s good, sweetie.’ it’s patronizing and he hates it, almost as much as he hates these family dinners. he thinks, again, about how nice it would be to go up to them and go, “oh, everyone! did you know hadley was plotting some devilish scheme? she’s a weed!” and have them believe him. what a victory.

in this instance, he is cassandra. no one would believe him.

vi. it’s late at night and he’s got a pounding headache from researching so much for his recommended reading. ezra lays in bed, notebooks splayed all around him as he closes his eyes. his headphones are playing whatever’s on his daily mix, and he’s finally about to head to sleep when his phone starts beeping multiple times. he groans as he sits up, hand fumbling around for the device. he rubs his eyes, blinking a few times before the bleariness clears away. it takes a while for the message to process, something about family matters and how he needs to get hadley out and to her house as soon as possible. it’s not often that they call family emergencies, so this has to be serious. ezra stumbles out of bed and pulls on a jacket, shoving his wallet and keys into his pocket. he pushes his headphones down to his neck and slips out of the dorm, his phone hovering over her name in his contacts, and he sighs. he wonders if she’ll decline his call because it’s him. she better not.