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.”
    “When did you get that?” Kimiko said, admiring the shirt. “Can I borrow it sometime?” Even when she was little she’d worn clothes from the boys’ section.
    “But you’re a girl !” her mom had argued, trying to entice her with ruffled skirts and frilly blouses, to no avail.
    “You want to wear it tomorrow?” Sergio asked, pulling the shirt off. “On your date with Allie?”
    “Dude, you’re really getting annoying. Pick something else out for me.”
    “Here, you always liked this one,” Sergio said, pulling out a western cowboy shirt with curlicue stitching. As Kimiko put it on, Sergio gazed at her in the mirror. “You look awesome in it, though maybe you should ditch the baseball cap? Otherwise you two will look like dipstick and lipstick.” He pulled her cap off and tossed it onto the bed. Then he combed his fingers through her hat hair. “Let her see your eyes!”
    “She said she thinks they’re beautiful,” Kimiko whispered.
    “But it’s not a date, huh?”
    “It’s not ! Girls say that kind of stuff to each other all the time. It doesn’t mean anything.”
    “Riiight,” he said and rested his chin on her shoulder.
    After showering on Saturday morning, Kimiko put on the borrowed cowboy shirt but couldn’t bring herself to abandon the baseball cap. Even if it did hide her eyes, without it she felt naked. Instead, she spun the bill around backward, like Sergio always did.
    When the doorbell rang after lunch, she raced downstairs. On the front stoop stood Allie, wearing a hair band with little velour cat’s ears. Thick black eyeliner framed her eyes, sixties style. And she wore a pair of low, low, low- rise skinny jeans.
    Kimiko drew in a breath. Oh. My. Goddess
.
    “’Sup, dude?” She fist-bumped Allie and explained her family’s shoe custom: “You leave them facing the door and change into house slippers.”
    As Allie turned around, Kimiko couldn’t help notice the top rear thong strap—it peeked above Allie’s waistline like a whale’s tail rising gracefully out of the ocean.
    Kimiko steadied herself and led Allie to the living room. “Come meet my family!”
    Although her dad wasn’t usually a big smiler, upon meeting Allie he couldn’t stop grinning. And her little brother, who generally ignored Kimiko’s friends, showed Allie his latest handheld game.
    What happened to my REAL dad and brother? Kimiko wondered.
    “Please, sit down,” her mom told Allie and complimented Allie’s pink sweater set. “It’s lovely. . . . Isn’t it, Miko? Why don’t you wear something like that?”
    Kimiko didn’t bother to answer.
    Allie felt thrilled to be meeting a real-life Japanese family. “My dream is to go to Japan,” she told Kimiko’s mom.
    “You should go,” Mrs. Kawabata said, serving them chrysanthemum ice tea.
    A wild idea popped into Kimiko’s mind: Maybe she could come with us next summer! Then she noticed her mom signaling her about how she was sitting. Dutifully, she brought her knees together.
    “I like your family,” Allie said as she and Kimiko walked outside.
    “They’re okay,” Kimiko agreed. If only her mom would accept her more.
    Allie unlocked her car—a VW bug with a daisy in the little dashboard vase.
    “Sweet!” Kimiko exclaimed, brushing her fingertips across the velvety petals. “I love flowers.”
    “Me too,” Allie said, plugging in her iPod and handing it to Kimiko. “Here, you want to choose something? What do you like? I’ve got lots of J-pop.”
    “I’m not really a big J-pop fan,” Kimiko said, but she saw that Allie had a lot of sixties rock and roll, which Kimiko liked. As they drove along, she picked out a Beatles playlist, and when Allie began to sing along, Kimiko joined her, rolling down the window to catch the breeze. The air was crisp; the sun was warm. It all felt perfect.
    When they arrived, the convention was already packed with fans, a lot of them wearing elaborate, wild cosplay costumes.
    “That’s so