Rhapsody

Ch 5/Savvy

We listen to the radio on the way, mostly just to fill up the silence. It isn't long before we pull into the parking lot of the town square, where the flashing lights of the Hernandez' Taco Bar blink at us. Dusk has just set in, purples and oranges swirling across the sky.

We cross to the restaurant with a wide distance between us. It feels awkward and strange to be going out with him, yet not...

It feels almost...fake.

But that might just be because I'm so hungry.

We order and go to the bar, where I get two tacos and Park gets five.

We sit down at a table for two, and I raise a taco to my mouth, stopping when Park doesn't join me. He is staring at his food, his arms crossed; at some point he had pulled up the hood of his hoodie again.

"What's wrong?" I ask, setting my taco down again.

To my surprise, he swipes under his nose, making me wonder if he's about to cry... He doesn't answer my question. Instead, he tells me, "I've been meaning to tell you something, Savvy."

From his use of my name, I can tell that this "something" is important.

Was he about to confess? I almost laugh out loud at the thought, making me almost miss his next words.

"It's my parents."

I stare at him, confused. "Your...parents?"

He shoves a taco angrily into his mouth and mumbles, "They're...divorcing."

The words are so quiet I have to strain my ears a moment to hear them, and it takes me even longer to process what they mean.

"What..?" I stare at him, my brain not processing the words for a few minutes. Then my face crumples with sympathy. "I–don't know what to say, Park."

He shakes his head quickly, scowling. "Don't say you're sorry. It's all anyone's said to me lately."

I stare at my tacos. "Okay," I breathe.

In a second he's downed two whole tacos.

I watched him eat for a long time, my brain still processing the news... what it would mean for our two families, who have known each other since our parents were in college.

I wish I could be there for him. Like a girlfriend would. I wish I could hold him and tell him everything would be okay. But I couldn't.

And it was killing me.

After a while Park looks up from his food and meets my eyes—blue, blue eyes that are full of hurt, betrayal, and anguish.

I stare right back, my heart breaking for him. "That sucks," I say, so quiet I'm not sure he even hears me until, his lips barely moving, he whispers,

"Yeah. It really sucks."

And that's when I knew. I knew what had been bothering him all night. Eating at him. Crushing him.

I feel my eyes brimming with tears, but I blink them away, taking his hand instead—a hand that is shaking. "Oh, Park," I whisper.

He looks at our intertwined hands, then blinks a handful of times and looks down at his food—three tacos left on his plate, the seasoned orangish grease seeping out of the shell and onto his paper plate.

The lights above us flicker a blueish, cold light. We're almost the only people in the restaurant, and all the workers are in the back. I can hear Park's breaths.