‘You don’t look like someone else. Plus, that’s crazy.’
‘Do you like me better like this?’ she asked. ‘Because I’m never going to look like this again.’
‘I like you the same … I kind of miss your freckles.’ He rubbed her cheeks with his sleeve.
‘There,’ he said.
‘ You look like a different person,’ she said, ‘and you’re just wearing eyeliner.’
‘Do you like me better?’
She rolled her eyes, but she felt the heat in her neck. ‘You look
different.
You
look
unsettling.’
‘You look like you,’ he said.
‘You with the volume turned up.’
She looked in the mirror again.
‘The thing is,’ Park said. ‘I’m pretty sure my mom was holding back. I think she thinks this is the natural look.’
Eleanor laughed. The door to the house opened.
‘Awww, I told you guys to wait,’ his mom said. ‘Were you surprised?’
Eleanor nodded.
‘Did you cry? Oh, I miss it!’
‘Sorry if I messed it up,’
Eleanor said.
‘No mess,’ his mom said, ‘waterproof mascara and stay-put foundation.’
‘Thank you,’ Eleanor said carefully. ‘I could hardly believe the difference.’
‘I’ll make you a kit,’ his mom said. ‘These all colors I never use anyway. Here, sit down, Park. I trim your hair while we here.
Looking shaggy …’
Eleanor sat in front of him and played Rock, Paper, Scissors on his knee.
Park She looked like a different person, and Park didn’t know if he liked it better. Or at all.
He couldn’t figure out why it upset her so much. Sometimes, it seemed like she was trying to hide everything that was pretty about her. Like she wanted to look ugly.
That
was
something
his
mother would say. Which is why he hadn’t said it to Eleanor. (Did that count as holding back?) He got why Eleanor tried so hard to look different. Sort of. It was because
she was different – because she wasn’t afraid to be.
(Or maybe she was just more afraid of being like everyone else.) There
was
something
really
exciting about that. He liked being near that, that kind of brave and crazy.
‘Unsettling,
how?’
he’d
wanted to ask her.
The next morning, Park took the
onyx
eyeliner
into
the
bathroom and put it on. He was messier than his mom, but he thought that might look better.
More masculine.
He looked in the mirror. ‘This really make your eyes pop,’ his mom always told her customers, and it was true. The eyeliner did make his eyes pop. It also made him look even less white.
Then Park did his hair like he usually did – flared up in the middle, all messy and tall, like it was reaching for something.
Usually, as soon as he did that, Park combed his hair out and down again.
Today he left it wild.
His dad flipped at breakfast.
Flipped. Park tried to sneak out without seeing him, but his mom was
non-negotiable
about
breakfast. Park hung his head over the cereal bowl.
‘What’s wrong with your hair?’ his dad asked.
‘Nothing.’
‘Wait a minute, look at me … I said look at me.’
Park lifted his head, but looked away.
‘What the fuck, Park?’
‘Jamie!’ his mother said.
‘Look at him, Mindy, he’s wearing makeup! Are you fucking kidding me, Park?’
‘No excuse to cuss,’ his mom said. She looked nervously at Park, like maybe this was her fault. Maybe it was. Maybe she shouldn’t have tried out lipstick samples on him when he was in kindergarten. Not that he wanted to wear lipstick …
Probably.
‘Like hell it isn’t,’ his dad roared. ‘Go wash your face, Park.’
Park stayed where he was.
‘Go wash your face. Park.’
Park took a bite of cereal.
‘Jamie …’ his mom said.
‘No, Mindy. No. I let these boys do pretty much anything they damn well please. But, no. Park is not leaving this house looking like a girl.’
‘Plenty of guys wear makeup,’
Park said.
‘What? What are you even talking about?’
‘David Bowie,’ Park said.
‘Marc Bolan.’
‘I’m not listening to this. Wash your face.’
‘Why?’ Park pushed his fists into the table.
‘Because I said so. Because you look like a girl.’
‘So what else is new?’ Park shoved his cereal bowl away.
‘What did you say?’
‘I said, what else is new? Isn’t that what you think?’
Park felt tears on his cheeks, but he didn’t want to touch his eyes.
‘Go to school, Park,’ his mom said softly. ‘You miss your bus.’
‘Mindy …’ his dad said, just barely restraining himself, ‘they’ll tear him apart.’
‘You tell me Park all grown up now, almost man, make own decisions. So let him make own decisions. Let him go.’
His dad didn’t say anything; he’d never raise his voice to Park’s mom. Park saw his opportunity and left.
He went to his own bus stop, not Eleanor’s. He wanted to deal with Steve before he saw her. If Steve was going to beat the shit out of him for this, Park would prefer that Eleanor not be in the audience.