The Six Rules of Maybe

back to the parking lot. Nicole grabbed my arm.
    “There he is. Look. In the ticket booth. Oh God oh God oh God. Well, that explains things.”
    I looked over, and sure enough, Jesse Waters was handing orange entrance tickets to a father and his two boys, one who was jumping around and holding his crotch like he had to pee. Jesse looked up and noticed us, smiled, and I gave a little wave. There—I hoped the trip was worth it to Nicole now.
    “God,” she breathed. “He’s so cute.”
    I jingled my keys. Her comment annoyed me. She made him one-dimensional, and he wasn’t. “Stalking time now officially over,” I said.
    “Ow, ow, ow,” Jasmine said. She hadn’t put her sandals back on. The asphalt was hot. “Jesus Christ, unlock the door already.”
    “Hey! Scarlet!” Jesse emerged from the ticket area behind us. He wore baggy red swim shorts and a towel around his neck. He gestured me over. I didn’t even think. Or maybe that’s a lie too. I did think, but I went anyway.
    “Just a sec, guys,” I said.
    I trotted over to see Jesse. I was glad to see him. Maybe not in the two hundred percent way that I was glad to see Hayden, every day, every time, from the moment I’d see him making toast, to hearing his car drive up. It was more of a ninety-five percent happy, which was a pretty good happy anyway.
    “Been to any garage sales lately?” I said.
    “Every time I see a sign, I stop. Just hoping for a turquoise tie clip to match my cuff link.”
    “That would be so handsome,” I said.
    “Maybe you might want to come with me sometime. Look through people’s old junk. Rusty garden stuff, playpens …”
    “Creepy neckties,” I said, but didn’t answer him about going. He held the ends of his towel and looked at me with an open smile. I didn’t want to give him the wrong idea, though. I could already feel Nicole’s anger crawling under my skin from back where she stood or maybe that was my own guilt. And there was Hayden, too. “Why is it that garage sales always make me want to wash my hands?” I said instead.
    “I went to a Goodwill once and breathed through my mouth the whole time,” he said.
    I laughed. “A lifeguard,” I said.
    “I hate to see little kids drown. Ruins my day.”
    “I’ve got to go.” I hooked my thumb in the direction of Nicoleand Jasmine.
    “See ya,” he said. Two kids waited in line and were looking his way, but he still seemed to be waiting too. His question hung there between us.
    “Back to work,” I said.
    “All right, then.” He tugged on the ends of his towel twice and turned back. I rejoined Nicole and Jasmine. The air between Nicole and me was thick and jagged. Jasmine had put on her sandals, but the straps hung free.
    “He speaks,” Nicole said.
    “An actual real person,” I said. Maybe that was hard for her to understand.
    We heard the gunning of an engine, the supposedly impressive rev of an engine as it sat still. Jasmine scanned the parking lot.
    “Guess who?” she said. I saw the car. A BMW. I couldn’t read the bumper sticker from where we stood, but I could see it. I knew what it said, anyway. I’M PROUD OF MY 4.0 STUDENT . Reilly Ogden. His parents’ car.
    “Oh God.”
    “He’s telling you how big his engine is,” Jasmine said.
    I socked her arm. “I’m all his now.”
    Nicole didn’t join in. She was silent the whole way home. When we got to her house, she opened the car door. She turned and spit the words.
    “I thought you were my friend.”
    She flung the door closed, and it slammed so hard that a pen on the tray of Mom’s dashboard jumped out and hid on the floor. I felt that slam way down inside. Helping people, being good to them, was who I most was. It felt completely and utterly wrong to be anythingbut that person.
    But behind the bad feeling sat something else. Anger. The part of me that looked after myself, only myself—it wanted to be heard. I could talk to whoever I wanted, be friends with whomever I wanted, even love whomever I wanted.
    Right then, I realized that other people’s “needs” were sometimes only big nasty demands, in a soft disguise. It was no different from those deer hunters in their camouflage outfits. I’m a nice peaceful tree. Ignore the gun on my back.
    I thought it had worked for me, looking after everyone else. I thought it had. But it didn’t. Not anymore.
    “Don’t ask me,” Jasmine said.

Chapter Nineteen
    T hey just can’t fucking do this,” Kevin Frink said. His big face