“In Anger Management,' he said,'we had to do all this role-playing stuff. You know, to get used to handling things in a less volatile way.''You role-played,' I said, trying to picture this.'I had to. It was court-ordered.”

“You ready to play?" Dave asked, bouncing it."I don't know," I said. "Are you going to cheat?""It's street ball!" He said checking it to me. "Show me that love."So chessy, i thought. But as i felt it, solid against my hands, i did feel something. I wasn't sure it was love. Maybe what remained of it, though, whatever that might be. "All right," I said. "Let's play.”

“You're a rule person," he said."My sister was a cheater. It sort of became necessary.""She cheated at this game?""She cheated ateverything ," I said. "When we played Monopoly, she alwaysinsisted on being banker,then helped herself to multiple loans and 'service fees' for every real estatetransaction. I was, like, ten oreleven before I played at someone else's house and they told me you couldn't dothat."He laughed, the sound seeming loud in all the quiet. I felt myself smiling,remembering."During staring contests," I said, "she always blinked.Always . But then she'dswear up and down shehadn't, and make you go again, and again. And when we played Truth, she lied.Blatantly.”

“So say I’m your mom.''What?' I said.'I’m your mom,' he repeated. 'Now tell me you want to quit modeling.'I could feel myself blushing. 'I can’t do that,' I said.'Why not?' he asked. 'Is it so hard to believe? You think I’m not a good role-player?''No,' I said. 'It’s just–''Because I am. Everyone wanted me to be their mother in group.'I just looked at him. 'I just… It’s weird.''No, it’s hard. But not impossible. Just try it.'A week earlier, I hadn’t even known what color his eyes were. Now, we were family. At least temporarily.”

“Donneven," I said, in my best Monica imitation, and he laughed. "We're not talking about me.""We could be," he said, as I watched Bert take note of a group of what looked like ninth graders who had justcome into the living room."I'm not gorgeous," I said."Sure you are."I just shook my head, knowing this was him evading the question. "You," I said, "have this whole tall, darkstranger thing going on. Not to mention the tortured artist bit.""Bit?""You know what I mean."He shook his head, clearly discounting this description. "And you," he said, "have that whole blonde, cooland collected, perfect smart girl thing going on.""You're the boy all the girls want to rebel with," I said."You," he replied, "are the unattainable girl in homeroom who never gives a guy the time of day.”

“I don't know," I said. "What else did you do for your first eighteen years?""Like I said," he said as I unlocked the car, "I'm not so sure that you should go by my example.""Why not?""Because I have my regrets," he said. "Also, I'm a guy. And guys do different stuff.""Like ride bikes?" I said."No," he replied. "Like have food fights. And break stuff. And set off firecrackers on people's front porches. And...""Girls can't set off firecrackers on people's front porches?""They can," he said... "But they're smart enough not to. That's the difference.”

“Yes,' he said, 'a list. That way, I figure, we'll have a written record of what we've agreed upon as our goals for our relationship. So if problems arise, we'll be able to consult the lists, see which issue it corresponds to, and work out a solution from there.'I could still hear my sister talking, but her voice was fading as she led her group around the house. I said, 'But what if that doesn't work?'Jason blinked at me. Then he said, 'Why wouldn't it?' 'Because,' I said.He just looked at me. 'Because...''Because,' I repeated, as a breeze blew over us,' sometimes things just happen. That aren't expected. Or on the list.''Such as?' he asked.'I don't know,' I said, frustrated. 'That's the point. It would be out of the blue, taking us by surprise. Something we might not be prepared for.''But we will be prepared,' he said, confused. 'We'll have the list.' I rolled my eyes. 'Jason,' I said.'Macy, I'm sorry.' He stepped back, looking at me. 'I just don't understand what you're trying to say.'And then it hit me: he didn't. He had no idea. And this thought was so ludicrous, so completely unreal, that I knew it just had to be true. For Jason, there was no unexpected, no surprises. His whole life was outlined carefully, in lists and sublists, just like the ones I'd helped him go through all those weeks ago. 'It's just...' I said and stopped, shaking my head.'It's just what?' He was waiting, genuinely wanting to know. 'Explain it to me.'But I couldn't. I'd had to learn it my own way, and so had my mother. Jason would eventually, as well. No one could tell you: you just had to go through it on your own. If you were lucky, you came out on the other side and understood. If you didn't, you kept getting thrust back, retracing those steps, until you finally got it right.”