wears pocket
protectors, which I’m pretty certain have been out of production since
the eighties, right around the time his kind-of-sometimes mullet-
hairdo thing went out of style. He makes jokes about irrational
numbers. He’s a total cliché of a math teacher. I’m almost certain
that he’s not a real person; he’s Frankenstein’s monster but made up
of math-teacher clichés. I heard a rumor that he’s got all the known
numbers of pi tattooed on his ass.”
“That’s a stupid rumor. And I can’t wait until I undress him and
dispel it once and for all.”
Dave was mostly sure the comment was a joke, but he still felt a pang
of jealousy. The bell rang, and everyone gathered their belongings,
rushing toward the door as if already free for the day. Jenny Owens
said, “Shit,” and tried to scribble in a few last-second answers.
Julia stood up, folding the Nevers list neatly and grabbing her
belongings. She stepped into her sandals and gave Ms. Romero a
little wave as they walked out into the hallway. Dave followed behind,
still trying to figure out if Julia was joking.
“I’ve never been a stalker before,” Dave said. They waited for the
Chili’s hostess to find them a table near where Marroney and a
50 NEVER ALWAYS SOMETIMES
handful of other teachers had gathered to enjoy a Friday afternoon
happy hour.
“This isn’t stalking. This is organizing a coincidental run-in.”
“That’s a stalkerish way to put it.”
After obsessing for the rest of the week over how to best seduce
Marroney (Dave shuddered every time she said it), Julia declared
Friday to be a Never day. After school, they’d go to Julia’s house and
dye their hair in a bright display of their individuality—individuality
purchased from a box at the CVS. But before they could do that,
Julia and Marroney had to have their meet-cute. “Prepare for a lot of
flirtatious giggling and some charming repartee,” Julia had said when
they were outside the school, waiting for Marroney to leave so they
could follow him. “And that’ll just be coming from him.”
Now Dave watched Marroney struggle to find the straw in his
margarita, his tongue flicking out blindly. He wondered if Julia would
call her own bluff anytime soon. Marroney was wearing a mustard-
colored short-sleeved button-up shirt with a coffee stain on his collar.
His tie had little calculators on it. Five other teachers were at the
table, including Ms. Romero and Dave’s AP Chem teacher, Mr.
Kahn. Each of them had a giant fluorescent-colored frozen margarita
in front of them.
Dave and Julia sat in a booth perpendicular to the teachers so
they could both see as the teachers delved into a bottomless basket of
chips and salsa. On his first attempt, a fat blob of red salsa fell from Marroney’s chips and landed squarely on his tie.
DAVE 51
“You know, I didn’t get it at first,” Dave said, turning to look at
Julia, who was smiling in Marroney’s direction, “but you’re right. This
has the makings of a great seduction.”
“Your tone says you’re trying to be sarcastic, but I’m failing to
understand the joke.”
“Julia, he’s hideous.”
“That’s an ugly thing to say.” Julia picked up her menu and propped
it up so she could stare without being caught. “Okay, so here’s the
plan.” She leaned across the table conspiratorially, refusing to speak
until Dave leaned down, too. It was their classic pose for plotting
mischief; they’d done it when figuring out which movie to go to, or
when planning the surprise party for Julia’s dads. They’d huddled
together like this when they wrote the Nevers on their bench in
Morro Bay. Dave loved seeing the details on her fingers when she
put them flat on the table in front of her, the way her orangey smell
seemed stronger in just those instances. They always adopted a tone
more serious than was called for, whispering to each other, craning
their necks around, pretending to study the room skittishly, as if
someone was after them. The rest of the world felt exterior to them,
like their friendship was some idyllic cove only they had access to.
“We wait until he gets up to use the bathroom.”
“You are getting creepier by the minute,” Dave whispered.
“Listen,” she hissed. “When the romantic interest has been
isolated—”
“You mean the victim.”
52 NEVER ALWAYS SOMETIMES
“David Gostkowski, you interrupt me again and I’ll dye your hair
bright green.”
“Isn’t that happening anyway?”
“We wait until he gets up to use the bathroom,” Julia said, her eyes
getting big, warning Dave to keep quiet. “At which point, we follow.”
She stole a glance over the menu to look in Marroney’s direction
again. He was halfway done with his margarita, sprinkles of salt
on his mustache catching the light and shimmering. The table was
already getting louder, breaking up into a couple of conversations. It
was curious to see them behave so