Read Rules for Free Online Page B

find
Me, too.
in his book and tap it.
    Jason’s head sways slightly to the music.
    Waiting for the song to finish, I run my thumb along an edge of my word cards. Mom talks to Carol, the receptionist explains something on the phone, and Jason’s mother and Mrs. Frost discuss good restaurants that accommodate wheelchairs. Outside, a family wearing bright sweatshirts walks by the window, the father stopping to take a picture.
    Tourists! I check my watch. If I hurry, Mom and I’ll still have time to go to the park.
    I feel a nudge on my arm.
    “Oh.” I hadn’t noticed the song was over. Sliding my index finger under the top of the headphones, I pull gently. “See that tourist family out the window?” I ask, putting my CD player away. “I think they’re a good-luck sign that summer’s here.” I hunt through my stack of cards to find the word I want good luck for the most. The last card I made, the one with a drawing of a girl’s hand raised in a “hi” wave.
Friend.
    “I have a new neighbor who’s my age,” I say. “I haven’t met her yet, but I’m hoping she’s nice.”
    He smiles.
Catherine. Friend.
    “I do have friends — my best friend is Melissa — but no one that lives near me. My neighborhood is mostly old people and families with little kids. Well, except the boy who lives on the corner. He’s my age, but he —”
Stinks a big one!!!
    I put that card as far from my name as possible. “You’ll have to be careful when you use this one. The last time I yelled this, I had to sit in the front seat of the bus.”
    No. I mean. Catherine. My. Friend.
    My lips feel dry. I lick them, though Mom always tells me not to. “Sure,” I say, even if I think of us more as clinic friends than always friends. Seeing Jason’s finger on the word, I wonder why he didn’t already have it.
    “And this is a guinea pig.” I wait for his hand to move. “I have two of these at home. Their names are Cinnamon and Nutmeg, and I’ll put ‘guinea pig’ right here next to ‘sandwich,’ because eating is what they like best.” I slide the card into the pocket. “And I thought you might want ‘gross.’ This lady I drew is eating cereal. But do you see this white thing on the spoon? It’s a maggot.”
    Jason curls his upper lip.
    “It’s even worse, because it’s half a maggot!” I add the card to his book. “And this word I picked for my brother, David.”
    My other cards have the word printed small at the top, but the tall block letters of
RULE.
fill the card. “David loves rules, so I use those to teach him.”
    What? RULE.
    I usually don’t share my rule collection with anyone but David, but Jason’s different. “David doesn’t learn from watching other people, so I have to teach him everything.” I open my sketchbook to my Rules for David, figuring it’s easier to show than explain.
    Take your shoes off at the doctor, but at the dentist leave them on.
    If you want to get out of answering something, pretend you didn’t hear.
    If someone is holding something you want, ask if you can have a turn.
    “David has his own rules, too,” I say, “but those rules don’t make sense to anyone but him.”
    What? Those. RULE.
    I sigh. “David’s got lots. One is, the cellar door always has to be shut. Even if I’m only going downstairs to grab something, he’ll race over and shut the door. Once he even locked it and I got stuck down there with a whole bunch of spiders until Mom heard me yelling.
    “And the worst part, it’s not just our house. David’ll hunt through other people’s houses, too.” I can’t help seeing it in my mind: David running down Melissa’s hallway, and Melissa’s mother saying kindly, “Don’t worry, Catherine, it’s fine. David, that’s the closet. That’s the bathroom.”
    Jason nods.
Brother. Me, too. Matt.
    “Is he younger than you?”
    No. Five. Years. Older.
    “Oh, you’re lucky then! You never have to babysit.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I want to