"I'm your girlfriend," she said. "Ask anybody."

Eleanor hoped that Park would be waiting for her at the bus stop, but she wouldn't blame him if he wasn't.

He was. He was standing there in the half-light, wearing a gray trench coat and black high-tops, and watching for her.

And then her mom gave her a fried egg sandwich that Richie hadn't wanted, and pinned an old, chipped glass flower to Eleanor's jacket.

"I might go to Tina's house after school," Eleanor said.

"I found it at the thrift shop," her mom said. "Maisie wanted it, but I saved it for you." She smudged vanilla behind Eleanor's ears.

Eleanor felt better the next morning. Mornings usually got the best of her.

He laughed and stepped back. "Who are you?"

"Good morning," she said, shoving him with both hands.

"No… my girlfriend is sad and quiet and keeps me up all night worrying about her."

She ran past the last few houses to get to him.

# Eleanor #

"Okay, have fun."

This morning, she woke up with that stupid cat curled up against her like it couldn't tell that she'd never liked him or cats in general.

God, it was like he wanted her to eat his face clean off.

It was cold and half dark, and Eleanor could see Park's breath. She resisted the urge to try to swallow it.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry about yesterday," she said.

Park was the only person she knew who wore his backpack actually on his shoulders, not slung over one side -- and he was always holding onto the straps, like he'd just jumped out of a plane or something. It was extremely cute. Especially when he was being shy and letting his head hang forward.

"Cool," he said, smiling, all shiny cheeks and full lips.

He smiled and shook his head.

He almost told her all the things his mom had said about her.

He hung onto his straps and shrugged. "Yesterday happens."

She pulled the front of his bangs. "Yeah."

# Park #

"Bummer. Sounds like you need a different girlfriend."

Don't bite his face, Eleanor told herself. It's disturbing and needy and never happens in situation comedies or movies that end with big kisses.

"I told my mom that I was going to a friend's house after school…" she said.

And she was so happy today. She was a different person. She kept squeezing his hand. She even bit his shoulder when they were getting off the bus.

He wasn't going to tell her about his mom. And he wasn't going to tell her to smile. But if she bit him again, he was going to lose something.

It seemed like it was wrong to keep secrets from Eleanor.

But it seemed like it would be more wrong to share that kind of secret. It would just make Eleanor even more nervous. She might even refuse to come over…

Park didn't know if Eleanor even had any girl's clothes -- and he didn't care. He kind of liked that she didn't. Maybe that was another gay thing about him, but he didn't think so, because Eleanor wouldn't look like a guy even if you cut off her hair and gave her a mustache. All the men's clothes she wore just called attention to how much of a girl she was.

Plus, if he told her, at the very least she was going to want to go home and change. She was wearing an orange argyle sweater today, way too big, with her silky green tie and baggy painter's jeans.

In Spanish class today, they were supposed to write a letter in Spanish to a friend. Señora Bouzon put on an episode of Qué Pasa, USA? while they worked on it.

"Who are you?" he asked, when she was still smiling in English class.

She told herself that Park's family must be decent people because they'd raised a person like Park. Never mind that this principle didn't hold true in her own family. It wasn't like she had to face his family alone. Park would be there. That was the whole point. Was there any place so horrible that she wouldn't go there to be with Park?

# Eleanor #

Leonor

Mi gusta comer su cara.

Eleanor tried to write a letter to Park. She didn't get very far.

Estimado Señor Sheridan,

Besos,

For the rest of the day, whenever Eleanor felt nervous or scared, she told herself to be happy instead. (It didn't really make her feel better, but it kept her from feeling worse…)

She saw him after seventh hour in a place she'd never seen him before, carrying a microscope down the hall on the third floor. It was at least twice as nice as seeing him somewhere she expected him to be.

"Ask anybody," she said.