By Skye Shae Bonati May 26, 2026 Jesse tipped his hat to the girl on the end of the street. She looked at him for just a fraction of a second longer than the typical glance—one of those looks where neither of you is thinking about the other, neither judging nor appraising—and shifted her weight to the other foot as she rubbed her arm. It was fairly cool for a July evening. She was waiting for her order of cotton candy and a chili dog from the carnival workers, sidestepping as