My brothers were in charge of selling helium balloons, although from the way they were giggling in the backseat of the van, I knew they planned on sucking down half of the helium tank and singing Chipmunk songs the entire afternoon.

When we pulled up to the park, I noticed Cassidy and her mom unpacking paints and brushes for the face-painting table. Elise stood by the swings, pushing her three-year-old sister, Abby, and Katya back and forth.

Cassidy and Elise. Even better. Dan was hovering over the baked-goods table, and Elise’s parents were counting out tickets at the ticket booth. Josh, of course, was nowhere around. Destiny must have been on her lunch break.

I helped my mom tape numbers on the ground for the cakewalk, then went to a nearby picnic table to cut up the Jell-O for my booth. While I did this, Logan and his little brother drove up to the park in his ancient Toyota pickup. I recognized the oversized tires and two -

toned, white and almost white, paint from where I stood.

Logan was constantly resurrecting his truck from the trash heap, and there probably wasn’t an original piece of it left except the rearview mirror. But instead of being mortified to own such a piece of junk, Logan was constantly bragging about the improveme nts he’d made to it. While stacking books, I’d heard more about engine capabilities than a person should have to endure in a lifetime.

I took out the first tray of Jell-O and sliced it into squares. Why was Logan here anyway? He didn’t live in our neighborhood.

Maybe he was checking up on me. Any second now he’d come over and ask whether I’d made it through the day with my criticism in check. Then he’d ask me some insufferable question, like why, if they were so smart, women chose to pluck out their eyebro ws or wear thong bikini underwear.

I kept one eye on him, but instead of coming in my direction, Logan and his brother walked over to where Dan stood.

Which must have meant Dan was friends with Logan’s little brother and had asked them to help out. At least, I hoped Dan asked them to help out. I hoped Logan would be too busy to park himself in front of my booth and pelt me with Jell-O for the duration of the fair.

After Logan spoke with Dan for a few minutes, he left his brother and Dan and went over to where Cassidy stood.

Hmmm.

Maybe he was plotting something. Maybe he thought I’d be irritated if I saw him cozying up to Cassidy, and I’d be more likely to insult someone.

Or maybe he just liked her.

Oh, it was so irritating.

I sliced through the last of the Jell-O and piled the colored cubes onto plates. Every few seconds I looked over to where Logan and Cassidy stood. They were talking, stand ing close to one another, and laughing.

I wanted to claw her eyes out.

It was totally illogical to feel that way, but still I fumed.

Did I, or did I not, specifically tell Logan I didn’t want him to date Cassidy? Well, okay, perhaps I actually said he should date Cassidy—that I thought they made a charming couple—but he knew I was being sarcastic when I said that. If he wanted to date someone, then he should go out with someone like . . . I tried for a moment to come up with an ap-propriate romantic choice for Logan, but couldn’t think of anyone.

*I didn’t dwell on it. After all, I wasn’t interested in Logan. I’d come here to see Josh, or as it was turning out, to see the outside of Josh’s house. Logan could date whomever he wanted. I wished them all the happiness in the world.

I threw the last of the Jell-O onto the plates as violently as I could, which of course did nothing but make the rest of the Jell-O stacks jiggle around a bit. It’s hard to be violent with Jell-O.

I took the plates over to my mother and asked her what else needed to be done. She and Cassidy’s mom had been talking, and now she surveyed the park. “It looks like we’re about ready. I guess you can do whatever you’d like until the fair starts.”

I glanced at my watch. We still had fifteen minutes left. My choices were to wander around aimlessly, hang out with my little brothers, or barge in on Logan and Cassidy’s conversation.

Then I noticed my hands. Red streaks covered them from where I’d caught falling Jell-O. I really ought to wash them off, and what better place to do that than at Josh’s house?

If I trekked the three streets back to my house, I might be late getting back to the park, and I wouldn’t want to disappoint all those kids who were eager to fling Jell-O around. I was only thinking of them.

I went over to the swings where Elise stood pushing the little kids and showed her my messy hands. “Is it okay if I go in your house to wash my hands?”

“Oh, sure,” she said. “Just walk right in.” Then she smiled at me. A big friendly smile.

One that should have set off warning bells.

I headed across the street to her house but paused on the doorstep. It felt odd to just walk into someone’s house. I nearly rang the doorbell, but then thought that perhaps the reason Elise told me to go right in was because no one else was home. If I rang the bell, I’d look like an idiot standing on the porch waiting for someone to answer the door.

I looked back over my shoulder at Elise. She smiled again and made waving motions for me to go inside.

As daintily as I could so as not to get Jell-O on the doorknob, I opened the door and stepped inside. I had just shut the door behind me when a deep “Woof!" reverberated through the room and a mutatedly giant German shepherd strode toward me.

“Ah wahha!” I said, not because it made any sense, but because my vocal chords suddenly worked independently of my brain.

The dog barked two more times and then circled me, sniffing. Apparently he didn’t get many visitors who smelled like raspberry Jell-O, and this was a treat for him.

Without taking my eyes from the dog, I took small steps back toward the door and called out, “Is anybody here?”

I had barely spoken the words when Josh walked into the room. He snapped his fingers at the dog. “Goliath!”

The dog turned around; wagged its tail with great, furry sweeps; and trotted back to Josh. Josh looked down, but not very far down, at the dog. “Go into the kitchen,” he said firmly.

Goliath immediately sat on the floor and gazed up at Josh as if waiting for the next command.

“All right then, sit!” Josh said. He turned and grinned at me. “Sorry if he scared you.”

“I just came in to wash my hands.” I held my hands up to show him the proof. “Elise told me to go right in.”

Josh nodded, as though it was a natural occurrence for girls to appear in his living room. “Sometimes Elise forgets that people might not like our canine greeting committee.”

I bet.

He showed me into the kitchen, and I tried to think of something intelligent to say while I washed my hands.

“You look older,” I said, and wasn’t sure why I’d chosen this. “I guess that’s what happens.”

“Yeah. You look older too.”

The conversation was off to a roaring start. I turned off the water and smiled at him.

Maybe I ought to take the direct approach. Maybe I ought to just say, “I have a problem, and I was wondering if you could help me out . . .”

“Are you going to the park, I mean the fair, you know, the thing outside?”

“Yeah, Dan put me in charge of the pie-eating contest.” Josh nodded over to the counter, where several dozen pies were stacked up in rows. They were the store-bought kind that didn’t look appetizing enough to eat at all, let alone scarf down in large quantities during a contest.

I let my hands drip into the sink while I looked around for a towel to wipe them on. I finally located one hanging from the refrigerator door and walked to it. Goliath saw me by the refrigerator and trotted over. With ears pricked, he watched me intently, as though I might be about to open the refrigerator and produce a ham for him.