Park was right. They were never alone.

# Eleanor #

She thought about sneaking out again, but the risk was incomprehensible, and it was so effing cold out she'd probably lose an ear to frostbite. Which her mom would definitely notice.

She'd already noticed the mascara. (Even though it was brown and said "Subtle, Natural Look" right on the package.)

It would be awful if her mom actually met Tina somewhere, but that didn't seem likely -- her mom never talked to anybody in the neighborhood. If you weren't born in the Flats (if your family didn't go back ten generations, if your parents didn't have the same great-great-grandparents), you were an outsider.

"Tina gave it to me," Eleanor said. "Her mom's an Avon lady."

If she just changed Park's name to "Tina" every time she lied, it only felt like one big lie instead of a million small ones.

It was kind of funny to think about hanging out at Tina's house every day, doing each other's nails, trying on lip gloss…

Park always said that was why people left him alone, even though he was weird and Asian. Because his family had owned their land back when the neighborhood was still cornfields.

Maybe it would be better this summer. They could go outside. Maybe they could take walks. Maybe he'd get his driver's license after all…

"For not being like him."

Park. Eleanor blushed whenever she thought about him. She'd probably always done that, but now it was worse. Because he was cute and cool before, but lately he seemed so much more of both.

He looked like himself, Eleanor thought, but bolder. Like Park with the volume turned way up.

Eleanor looked dubious. "Has he been mad at you for the last sixteen years?"

No. His dad hadn't even spoken to him since the day they fought.

Even DeNice and Beebi thought so.

# Park #

"He's mad at me."

"For what?"

They were never alone.

"What's up with your dad?" Eleanor asked him. She was standing one step below him on his front stoop.

"He looks like El DeBarge," Beebi agreed.

"He looks like a rock star," DeNice said.

They tried to make the walk from the bus to Park's house last forever, and sometimes, they'd hang out on his front steps a while… until his mom opened the door and told them to come in from the cold.

"Come in, come in," she said. "Too cold."

"No," Park said, "never. I mean, we were kind of getting along for a while, because I finally got in a fight, and because he thought my mom was being too hard on you."

"I knew she didn't like me!" Eleanor poked Park's arm.

Park's mom really did seem to like her better now. Eleanor hadn't consented to another full-on makeover, but Park's mom was always trying new eyeshadows on her or messing with her hair while she sat at the kitchen table with Park.

"Your dad loves you," she said. It seemed to really matter to her.

"Basically."

"But it always seemed like you got along…" she said.

Park shook his head. "Only because he has to. He's disappointed in me."

"Thank you."

"Your hair looks nice, Eleanor," Park's mom said.

"Well, now she likes you," he said, "so now my dad is back to not liking me."

Eleanor laid her hand on his chest, and his mom opened the door.

# Eleanor #

Eleanor wasn't diffusing, but she was using the conditioner Park's mom had given her. And she'd actually found a satin pillowcase in the stack of towels and stuff in her bedroom closet, which was practically a sign from God that He wanted Eleanor to take better care of her hair.

"I should have had girl," his mom said.

I should have had a family like this, Eleanor thought. And it only sometimes made her feel like a traitor to think so.