Chapter 3 - Noa Park

We turned onto the driveway and I caught my first glimpse of the enemy. Obviously, I knew it wasn't fair to hate someone before you met them. But I couldn't help myself. I hated her before we met. I spent a whole car ride imagining how Noa Park was about to ruin my summer. We pulled up to her driveway and, suddenly, there she was. I saw her standing beside a stack of books and an old suitcase. Her outfit looked like it was from an old black and white photograph of an outdated school uniform. The running shoes were the only clue that she lived in this decade. I couldn't see her face because it was hidden behind another book. Evidently, she liked to read.

My parents rushed to greet her with an awkward group hug. They do that a lot. They're really big on making people feel included and they have a lot of practice. I have a ridiculous amount of extended family. I've never asked how many are my actual blood relations and how many were simply introduced as aunt or uncle. I have a theory that my parents pretend that they're related to everyone to feed their addiction to group hugs.

My new cousin revealed an envelope. I tried to read my parents' faces as they read the letter but I didn't have the best angle. For a split second I thought I saw my Dad with a rare serious face. Then they swarmed Noa with another group hug, smoother this time, and helped her with her stuff. The sliding door opened and a flood of books spilled onto the middle seat. Okay, she was a nerd. Nerds can be contained. She continued to read as she entered the minivan. Her eyes made a rapid sweep of the interior before returning to her book. I was about to tell her that she couldn't sit in the middle because the seatbelt buckle was jammed but she didn't take the nearest seat. She sat down in the back, across from me, reading the entire time. I could see my Dad's hopeful eyes in the rearview mirror. My Mom turned and glared at me. I capitulated.  "I'm Rachel." My cousin lowered her book.

"My name is Noa Park." Then she looked at me. Up to this point I didn't think anything of her, other than my vague irritation that she existed. Her clothes were a bit weird but I don't think I'd even notice her if I passed her the hallways. But when she looked at me it was different story.

I remembered borrowing a scrunchie from my friend in grade three. It was rainbow tie-dyed with a strong elastic. I liked it so much that I decided to keep it for myself so I 'accidentally' wore it home. I realized that I couldn't wear it back to school so I hid it in my room. Whenever I had friends over I would triple check to make sure it was hidden, tucked inside of a sock, inside of a vending machine egg, inside of a ceramic clown face bank under my bed. I never wore it and I couldn't bring myself to throw it out. I stopped inviting people over after school. I stopped wearing scrunchies. What's worse, I could not bring myself to tell my friend even after she gave everyone who came to her birthday party their own rainbow tie-dye scrunchie. But that was kid stuff, ancient history. I hadn't thought about those feelings in years but when Noa looked at me it stirred up those fears. I wondered if I had left a trace.

I felt like she was looking through me. Her expression was calm with a slight, friendly smile but those dark eyes were piercing. They were two alert machines, studying, memorizing, and absorbing any subject in range. I imagined her mind to be a vast mechanism of precise gears spinning in rhythm while new information was processed on conveyor belts, carried off by a web of clear tubes. Ordered and overwhelming.

"That's a lot of books." I heard my Dad say, "You know it's summer vacation right?" Noa smiled in response and returned to reading. It was such a relief to be out of that gaze that I almost gasped. I exhaled slowly. We drove out of the neighbourhood, a labyrnth of houses and stop signs. Right before we turned onto a major road we lingered a little longer than a regular stop. Noa spoke up.

"There's a gas station before the highway if you turn left."
"Perfect, thanks Noa." I know my Dad and he hid it well but I could tell he was surprised that she knew exactly what was on his mind. But the demonstration wasn't over.