I walk downtown on Saturday morning. Maybe I’m going to see Janie, maybe I’m not. I don’t even know if she’s working today. Either way, it’s the second-to-last day of summer vacation, and I feel like doing something. I didn’t have a job this summer, obviously, but I didn’t spend much, either. Add it all up, and I’ve got a twenty-dollar bill in my wallet and I sort of feel like spending it.

Halfway there, I get a text from Rudy. He called Aaron, looking for secondhand info on Mars, but he didn’t get any: Nothing from A. Boxed out. Aaron has always been good at keeping his mouth shut. I reply: Thnx man. Heading downtown.

In da car, he writes. Since it’s Saturday morning, he’s probably going food shopping with his folks at the big Price Chopper out by the interstate.

OK, later, I text.

It’s extremely cool of Rudy to do all this slick spy work for me. I know he hung out with those two a lot this summer, but it sort of feels like the battle lines have been drawn now, and I really appreciate him coming back to my side. Not like I thought he’d choose them, but he definitely could’ve stayed neutral.

I reach the edge of downtown, cross over on to the sidewalk, and pass the first few stores. It’s another nice day, and the sun is hitting the big, clean front windows of the shops. People are walking along the sidewalks and walkways, staying inside the lines. Cars are rolling slowly through town, stopping at the crosswalk, moving on. No one seems to be in a hurry, and everything seems so small-town perfect you could just puke, you know? I make the difficult decision not to vomit and just go with it.

I’ve got two more days of vacation and a twenty to spend, and I’m hoping this whole thing with JR will be over soon. Mom didn’t have much to say when she got back from work last night, only that she took JR to the vet to get retested and that she was sure everything was fine, “like it was the last time I took him.”

He’d already gotten his shots and vaccinations and all that stuff, so no rabies or anything crazy like that. And the bite itself wasn’t much, so what’s left, right? I still haven’t heard from Mars, and Mom never heard back from his parents after the trip to the vet, because what could they really say? We’ll just wait till the hospital sends out the bill on Monday or whenever and pay for some fresh bandages and whatever junk they bought in the gift shop.

Give it a week and things will be back to normal. The battle lines will disappear, and I probably won’t have to worry about Mars dropping by and eating all my snacks for a while. It’s a win-win. Unless it’s not, but right now that’s the way I’m trying to look at it.

I head into the little coffee place to get a small one to go and maybe a snack. Mom and Rudy both say coffee’s an “acquired taste,” and I’m trying to acquire it. It seems like a cooler way to get my caffeine than Mountain Dew. I’m sixteen now; I can’t drink bright green soda forever.

It’s midmorning and the tables are all full, but the line isn’t too bad. I get the coffee to go and load it up with milk and sugar. I get a large chocolate chip cookie, in case the coffee is still too bitter, but it isn’t. I sit outside on the coffee shop’s one bench, eat the cookie, and drink half the coffee. It’s not so bad with all the sugar in it. Then I get up and start walking toward the garden store.

I have an idea of how I want this to go: I’ll be walking by, casually sipping my coffee like some dude from France, and will just happen to look in the window. What do you know? There’s Janie. We’ll make eye contact and I’ll head in. Just to say hi, no big deal. I’ll push open the door and maybe there’s an old lady with her arms full of flowers, so I’ll hold it open for her and everyone will see me do it. Once she’s gone, I’ll make some funny comment and everyone will laugh, especially Janie.

That’s the general plan anyway, but I’m walking so slow that I run out of coffee before I get there. I consider going back for another one, but I figure I can still hold the cup, and this way, there’s zero chance of spilling when I open the door.

I cross the parking lot and spot the door — worn green paint and a dull metal handle. I begin my approach, moving even slower now. It’s just that I haven’t seen Janie in a really long time and, I think I mentioned this, it did not go well the last time I did. Plus, I still haven’t figured out what I’m going to do in there. I mean, apart from dazzling everyone with a funny line that I haven’t thought of yet.

I guess I’ll buy a plant, like Rudy said, but what if she’s not there? Would I still have to buy one? I guess I could be like: Give me your smallest, most hard-core, lowest-maintenance plant, please. Or maybe I could buy some gardening gloves or plant food or whatever’s cheapest. And just like that, I’m past the door now.

The walkway in front is gravel, so I sound like a bowl of Rice Krispies as I walk past the window. I look in and there she is. She’s standing behind the counter and looking out, bored. Just like that, she sees me. I see her see me: Her head turns and stops. I don’t even realize I’ve stopped moving until I register the lack of snap, crackle, and pop from the gravel. We make eye contact through the glass. Wasn’t that part of my plan?

It was, but not like this. I’m heading the wrong way. If I turn around now, it will be the opposite of casual, the opposite of cool. And where’s my coffee cup? I close my fingers to make sure it’s still there and feel the paper sides crumple in my hand.

I don’t know what to do, but I have to do something. I go forward just because that’s the direction I’m headed, but once I start, I feel like that’s that. I can’t boomerang back. Which doesn’t explain why I was in front of the store in the first place. I reach the end of the walkway and there’s nothing left to do but head back across the parking lot.

Maybe she watches me go and maybe she doesn’t. Her image is still in my mind: her head turning and then stopping as she sees me, her eyes a mystery at that distance. I have no idea what she was thinking. Was she happy to see me? Angry? Annoyed? I don’t know. She looked good, though. She had a nice tan and her hair was a little lighter. That’s probably from the sun, too.

I’m thinking about all this as I’m passing by CVS. Out of the corner of my eye, I see someone shoulder through the door and stop dead. I turn to look: It’s Mars. His arm is in a brand-new sling, the material so white, it seems to glow in the sunlight. That snake.