The Six Rules of Maybe

course. Of course , given to you when you maybe weren’t used to of course . I don’t know if I ever realized before how important those words were—those words that meant you were completely understandable. Words that meant you were reasonable and sound and valid. It was funny how often we didn’t feel any of those things on our own. Not that we were a trembling mess and incapable—just that a lot of the time we weren’t so sure all by ourselves.
    Mom looked almost stricken. The idea of actual understanding came as a shock to her. My throat closed then; I thought I could cry. Her own self, her person, the woman she was and wasn’t and wanted to be, the person who had and never had—she stood in front of us, her own story right there on her face. I hadn’t done a very good job of trying to understand her myself, and Juliet wasn’t, even now—she was just shooting her narrow eyes at Dean Neuhaus to let him know what a creep we thought he was.
    I swallowed. The moment passed. Still, I felt this arrow of sorrow. Most of our parents wanted the best for us, I knew, but we also wanted the best for them. Mom showed Hayden the rest of the albums. She put on some music, and after dinner, Dean Neuhaus had his hands on Mom’s waist when we did the dishes. She left those hands there and didn’t stop him either when he patted her butt as she passed by to use the bathroom.
    When he said good night at our door though, I noticed, she only offered him her cheek. And when that happened, I silently cheered for her.

Chapter Fourteen
    Y ou’re a toilet,” Jacob said.
    “ You’re a toilet,” Jeffrey said.
    “You’re a toilet face ,” Jacob said, and they both laughed so hard they held their stomachs. They sat on the sidewalk behind their mother’s Acura, hiding. Jeffrey seemed to be holding something in his hands. Fishing line, I realized. And it was tied to an old purse lying in the middle of the street. God, I hoped it wasn’t Clive Weaver who jetted out there to grab it only to have it yanked away. He was already fragile as it was; he didn’t need one more thing snatched from him.
    “I don’t understand why you require me for this outing,” Juliet said as we got into Mom’s car on Saturday morning. “Mom can take you.”
    “God, Juliet. You’re kidding, right? I’m going to trust Mom with fashion advice? You. You’re the one I need. Juliet, this is huge .”
    “Fine,” Juliet said. But it wasn’t fine. Juliet looked stressed. Shekept running her fingers through her hair and her mouth was in a tight line. “Who did you say you were going with? And where did you get money for a dress? Mom only paid half of mine, and this isn’t even your prom.”
    I had to think fast. What name did I give? Justin? Johnathan? “Jared. Finnley. You don’t know him, I told you. He’s new this year. And I’m using my own money.”
    “I can’t believe you’re going with a senior.”
    “God, you make it sound like you’re surprised anyone might actually like me.” Okay, I might be surprised anyone except Reilly Ogden might like me, but it wasn’t okay for her to feel that way.
    “I didn’t mean it like that. Just, you’re getting so old. Growing up. Look at those brats,” she said.
    “Let’s run it over,” I said. But Juliet didn’t seem to hear me. She drove right past the purse. She was already looking at the clock in Mom’s car, and we hadn’t even gotten out of the neighborhood yet. Saturday was now officially and completely booked. Screw you, Buddy Wilkes.
    “This is going to take all day,” Juliet said. She rubbed her temples.
    It was impossible to understand why it was so hard to get people to do what was best for them.
    “I don’t see why you won’t let me come in there with you,” Juliet said.
    “No way. Uh-uh. I’m the only one who gets to see me naked.”
    “Not even Jared?” She poked me in the arm. I had no idea what she was talking about until I remembered. Jared! Right!
    “Ha,” I said. I had an armful of dresses. This would take a while. I made her take me onto the ferry and into Kingston where there wasa mall. Now we were in this store called Vibe! and it was the kind of place I hated. High school girls with clothes so tiny they rivaled Clive Weaver’s latest favorite outfit for fabric square footage and salespeople who asked if you needed help as if your presence there was seriously imposing on their personal time. The music in there was so loud and pulsing, you could