Page 3 of Rules for Rule Breaking
He didn’t like conversations that started like this. They always ended with some terrible news, like their family dog, Kimchi, having to be put down, or Winter Park beating his SAT score by ten points. He looked at his mother anxiously. She had long hair that she lightened into a brassy burgundy color, and she always wore the mommiest of mom shoes.
“Have you spoken to Winter lately?” Diana asked.
“No, of course not,” Bobby answered harshly. “Why?”
“Well,” Diana said, taking a deep breath. “You know how we’re supposed to drive up with you to Massachu—”
“No,” Bobby said, more forcefully than he meant to. “If you’reabout to ask me if it’s okay if Winter comes with us, the answer is no.”
His parents exchanged glances.
“Actually, we were going to say that we think it’s a good idea ifonlyyou and Winter go to visit Harvard. She’s interested in the space program at MIT.”
Bobby’s mouth fell open.
Winter was his rival at school, and she had this annoying quality about her that he couldn’t quite pin down. She always wore big cable-knit granny sweaters that basically went down to her ankles, and she usually had a cup of hot tea in hand. At lunch she always had her nose in some cozy mystery novel instead of studying everything on—and off—the test like Bobby did. But it wasn’t like she was reading because she didn’t have anyone to eat with; she was comfortable and content all the time. Not that comfort was inherently annoying. But her nonchalance and effortless intellectuality infuriated him to no end. She loved space, and it was clear that was where her head usually was. He wanted her to come back down to Earth and be miserable and stressed like him and everyone else.
“Why don’t you guys want to come with me anymore?” Bobby asked his parents. “We were going to visit Dad’s old stomping grounds in Boston and the Smithsonians in DC. There might even be few fun tourist T-shirts in it for Dad.”
“You know I love souvenir shirts, but you’ll be at school for four years.”
“So?”
“So, there will be plenty of opportunities to shop for a T-shirt. And it’s not that we don’t want to go with you. This could be a chance for a good old-fashioned American road trip. I drove up the coast with my little brother when we were about your age.” Bobby’s earsperked up. His dad never mentioned his brother, Eugene. Robert Sr. seemed to notice his slip and quickly tried to cover it up by saying, “What I meant to say is that you could have a good old-fashioned American road trip like in the movies.”
Bobby’s upper lip tightened. “Which movies, specifically?”
“How aboutGreen Book?That was a good one.”
“I think you missed the point of that movie, Dad.”
“Maybe, but wouldn’t you have more fun with somebody your own age?”
“She’s not my age,” Bobby huffed.
“Exactly. She’s younger than you, and for whatever reason, she hasn’t gotten her license yet, so you should take care of her,” Diana said. “It’d be a very nice thing for you to do.”
Bobby knew that it would be nice. He was always nice, and he would do anything his parents asked him to, but not this. He didn’t want to spend a second with Winter, much less days.
“I know what you’re doing,” Bobby said, his arms folded and his nose turned up.
Robert Sr. narrowed his eyes. “What are we doing, son?”
“You just don’t want me to go with Jacqueline. I know you both don’t like her.”
“That’s not true, sweetheart,” Diana said. Her voice was like a cup of sugar. “We just noticed we haven’t been seeing her around as much lately. We thought you may have broken up.”
Bobby picked up his glass and plate and stood up. “May I be excused?”
“Fine, but think about it. Okay?” Diana asked.
Bobby activated all the muscles in his face that were used to form a smile, but he was not smiling inside. Maybe he was his parents’ son after all. The two of them always seemed to have a certainmelancholy, like they were lost in thought, thinking about something or, more likely, someone. For Mr. Bae, Bobby assumed that person was Uncle Eugene, since he was the only living relative he knew of. Just yesterday, Bobby had come home to his father drowning the plants with the garden hose. When Bobby called to him, he pretended like he’d meant to do it even though he’d overwatered one of his mother’s raised garden beds so much it overflowed and her Thai basil plant floated away. And Diana was someone who sat for hours holding knitting needles but not actually knitting. The sun would set and there she would be in the dark, unsmiling, with the same unfinished scarf in her lap night after night. Bobby turned the lights on for her every afternoon and knitted a row for her every night after she went to bed. Her entire family still lived in Korea, and her contact with them had dwindled in the years since she had decided not to return after college. The Parks were their replacement family, much to Bobby’s chagrin.
Bobby dumped his dishes in the sink and mentally grounded himself for not washing them immediately. He ran upstairs, slammed his door shut, grabbed his phone, and dialed Winter Park.
It rang twice.
“Why are you calling me?” Winter said as soon as she picked up.
