Carnivals. Fairgrounds. Smells of cotton candy, that sticky, sweet, sugary smell mixed with fresh popcorn, caramel apples, hot dogs, funnel cakes, and the nearly burned smell of oil that all kinds of deep-fried food are dunked into. If you think those smells are bad, stick around for a few days. After a few days, the carnies, the barkers calling you to try your luck, come ride the ride, or let them guess your weight smell like junior high P.E. class. Once that smell hits your nose? You can’t escape from it! That’s part of why middle-class people do their best to go to these things on the first or second day. The stench is enough to make your eyes water.

I was there not to play games or eat some cotton candy. And I wasn’t a big fan of popcorn, although, truth be told, it wouldn’t have been a terrible idea to get some cotton candy. Boredom got the best of me. I was a little depressed and couldn’t care less about what was going on around me. If I had thought to pay attention to what was happening, I wouldn’t have missed Jules the first two hours I spent wandering through the carnival games and rides.

Jules was a rather attractive brunette, nineteen years old, and a smile so friendly that it melted my heart immediately. Plus, she was someone I hadn’t seen before in Beaverton. Not that my social circle was all that big, to begin with. But I figured an attractive girl like Jules had to have a boyfriend, a common misconception I’ve had throughout the years.

I wasn’t shy, but new people made me uncomfortable. I always thought they were judging me, thinking I was a monster, something my wife would later tell me was untrue. I didn’t know she was working until I noticed the apron wrapped around her waist, tied up front. This was a trick I’d later learn from servers that prevented someone from taking it off you. With all the cash inside the apron, it made sense. A younger girl with strawberry-blonde hair pulled back in matching pigtails stood beside her, looking bored.

“I want some popcorn, Jules. Got any money?”

Jules rolled her eyes and sighed. “Come right back, Sara. It’s starting to get dark.”

“Whatever, Jules.” Sara snatched the money from her sister’s hand and took off for the popcorn, leaving Jules alone.

She winked at me. I thought someone was behind me, but there wasn’t. Jules motioned for me to come over to her game, where you shoot air into the mouths of various clowns, blowing up a balloon. I’ve seen other carnival games where you have to do the same thing, only with a water pistol. The first person to pop their balloon wins a prize. And you always have to play someone. One person can’t play the game. I won our scared cow at a game like that at the Rose Festival. I had no money for the game, and the night was slow. And she looked like she wanted to talk to me.

“Hey, come here,” she smiled, waving at me. “What’s your name?”

“Jaz,” I answered, getting almost knocked over by Sara, who, pushing past me, thrust the popcorn in Jule’s hand.

“Excuse you,” Jules snapped. “You know better, Sara.” Sara looked back at me, eyeing me up and down, trying to figure out if her sister could trust me. I’d learn to interpret that look slightly different as I got older and dated the older of two sisters. I think their names were Crystal and Candice. Or Sarah and Candy.

“Yeah? Well you aren’t supposed to be flirting with guys. You know what Daddy said,” Sara’s southern accent was a lot thicker than Jules’s. “This popcorn isn’t all that great, anyway,” Sara said, snatching it from Jules and stuffing a handful in her mouth.

“Do you want some cotton candy?”

“I thought Mama said I couldn’t have cotton candy,” Sara said, waiting with her hand held out for Jules’ money.

“Daddy said I couldn’t flirt with boys either, did he?” Jules held a five-dollar bill just out of Sara’s reach.

“I’m not sure that’s what he said,” Sara said, jumping up, trying to grab the cash. “But if I got cotton candy, I’m sure I wouldn’t remember what Daddy had said.” Jules let her snatch it from her hand, and Sara ran off again, straight to the cotton candy vendor.

Jules smiled at me. “Well, that won’t last long, Jaz.” She pulled me closer and said, “I like you. We should hang out,” without a second thought, she kissed my cheek.