Two little girls (Nadia and Kari) stood in the middle of the street and threw the softball back and forth. They both had dark hair and a dark complexion—both daughters of an Indian mother and Caucasian father. Their neighbor Molly had just hopped on her bike to go home for dinner, and they were losing interest in only throwing to each other, and though they wouldn’t admit it, they weren’t sorry to see Molly go. They called her a friend, but really she was just a girl from the neighborhood who they assumed ought to be considered a friend.