𝕝𝕚𝕒𝕣 𝕝𝕚𝕒𝕣 !

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.

i. they’re in elementary when they first meet, sunlight streaming through the windows as he steps in. he waves goodbye, tightening his fingers around the straps of his backpack. the day, he feels, goes by fairly smoothly until they’re asked to partner up; and ezra, being the social butterfly, turns to ask people if they’d like to be his partner. but they’re all too fast, and he seems to be the one left behind. he’s about to sink into a corner and cry when a girl comes towards him, asks him to be partners. he jumps up excitedly, and almost reaches for the girl’s hands. “thank you!” he says, beaming. “you’re the coolest. i’m ezra.”

ii. “i’m not holding your hand, sunny,” he insists, sticking his nose in the air. ezra, age ten, had been told that girls had what they called cooties, though he isn’t exactly sure what it is. (and okay, he’s a few years late, but no one tells him that.) “you’re my best friend and all, but the boys in the bathroom say that have girls have cooties. whatever it is.” this is hard because ezra’s a hugger, and he’s believed that every inch of his body is made for hugs, hand holding, that kind of thing. but he also wants to be cool, so the kids stop making fun of his pudgy cheeks or how his hair makes him look like he stuck his finger in a socket. and because he’s so full of hugs and love, his fingers accidentally brush against sunny’s. it takes him ten seconds to realize why the other boys are staring at him, and then — right. “oh!” he cries, dramatically falling to the floor. “i’ve been struck! by cooties! my soul is leaving my body!”

that afternoon, his parents march him over to the knox’s, with a box of chocolates and a very carefully thought-out apology which he, in true ezra park fashion, announces in a way that would have shakespeare rolling in his grave.

iii. they’re thirteen and sitting on ezra’s bed, resting comfortably on his star wars sheets, and he’s nervous. they’re listening to the radio and he hears that one rihanna song about california and king beds, the one he’s been shamelessly rewinding on his ipod. “hey, sunny, you ever think of your first kiss or some crap like that?” he blurts out. “’cause... i don’t know. everyone keeps talking about it and i just... wonder.” he’s never had his yet — because cheek kisses definitely don’t count — and if it’s possible, he’d like it to be with someone he cares about. he doesn’t know where to put his hands: he reaches out for hers, fingertips touching hers, before they rest on his lap. 

“but anyway, it’s stupid, right?” an awkward chuckle follows, and right after he speaks, the song on the radio changes.

iv. they’re in their ‘dating’ phase and ezra still isn’t sure where to put his hands. it feels weird having sunny as his girlfriend when she’s his best friend first and foremost; he loves her but not in the way people (read: his parents) thought. it takes them a while before they actually change from gripped hands to intertwined fingers, though there are still moments where he takes her by the hand or wrist. take for example, this one date they’re on, where they both reach into the popcorn tub at the same time. ezra, always the taker, scoops up a handful of popcorn, only to feel that he’s grabbed sunny’s wrist instead. thank god for the dim lighting of the cinema, because his face is beet red when he realizes his grip’s a little too hard and a little too eager. “sorry, sunny,” he says with an awkward chuckle, dropping her wrist gently and waiting for her to get her fill before taking his.

v. overabundance of party streamers aside, ezra decides prom night isn’t so bad. he hasn’t spilled anything over the fancy suit his parents had bought him just for this, and there’s two more hours to go, so he considers that a victory. he’s a little high on sugar from the punch, so he’s jumping around all the time, but of course a slow song comes along and he finds himself shouting over the music just to ask sunny to dance. first he reaches for her hand, but stops himself to laugh, because that’s just not how they do it. instead, he places his hands on her waist, gently, a big smile on his face.

i. sometimes people were like puzzles, and ezra was drawn to them like a moth to a flame. he’s seen the girl around, hovering around the restaurant his family’s been going to ever since it opened up. he’s sixteen and wondering what it’d be like to love someone, and if it was ever possible to come in the form of her. she’s just a stranger, of course, but he can’t help but wonder. his fingers drum against the table as he and his parents wait for their order, and for a split second, their eyes meet from across the restaurant. he is the first to look away.

ii. college, as it turns out, becomes the place where you seem to know everyone. ezra knows the girl in one of the windows of the art building, though he’s never really talked to her before. he thinks that maybe, just maybe, one day he’ll get to put a name to the face. his opportunity comes when he sees her at a party, lazing across someone’s sofa and talking to someone. when they leave her alone, he awkwardly tightens his grip on his beer, and takes a deep breath. he steps forward, but her friend is back. it’d be rude for him to butt into their conversation, so he moves away again. another time, maybe.

iii. he finally gets his chance a few weeks later, but he still feels awkward. jo becomes a mystery he’s eager to crack, hot and cold with the way she reacts to him. but the more they revolve in each other’s circles, the more he has reason to believe they’ll get closer. while he’s shopping for his cousins’ christmas gifts in korea, ezra comes across a doll that seems to look just like her: blonde hair, big eyes, a heart-shaped face. he stops, peering forward to take a quick snap of the photo. when he gets home, he has half the mind to send it to her, see what she thinks of it; but he stops, and closes the app. they’re not that close yet.

iv. what do you do when you’re faced with a problem? usually, you figure out how to solve it so it’s over and done with. and while ezra is more than reconsidering his plan of action here, he’s never done too well with impulse control. but hey, he figured he’d ask. he tries to rehearse the words he says in his head over and over again like the dorky sidekick of an 80′s teen movie: han, you coming to this one party i heard about? we could, like, go together. i mean i could drive you there and shit. maybe we could pregame at your place. the more he thinks about it, the more it sounds stupid to him. he finally arrives at thayer hall with the intention of knocking on jo’s door, but he reconsiders. he stands for a little too long and the r.a. is asking him for who he’s looking for, but instead ezra lets out a small smile and a shake of his head. “no one, sorry,” he lies. it’s so smooth he almost believes it himself. “i don’t think they’re in today.”

v. smoke curls out of his lips as he lies on his childhood bed, the window popped open so the smell of weed doesn’t fill the room. if there’s one less thing he wants his parents to worry about, it’s him cruising through college partially stoned. his family dinner’s only two hours away, but with the way he’s pleasantly mellowed out, he’s reconsidering the nap he’d originally thought of having. instead he pulls out his boots and heads off, thinking a drive would be a much better way to clear his head. he’s cruising through the streets of raleigh when he spots a familiar figure a few feet away, perusing through the shops that line downtown. he rolls down the window as he pulls up at a stoplight, sticking his head out. half of his mind tells him to yell out to her, the other half is telling him to get a move on because the light’s turned green again, and he has to go. he ducks back in, and drives, the sounds of car horns much louder than he’s used to.