Never Always Sometimes - Adi Alsaid Page 0,16
often, so when they did, Dave knew, Julia read
them over and over again, as if they were poetry. Then she’d put them
up in her room connected by strings to pushpins on a map indicating
where they’d been sent from. Ecuador, China, Australia, Belgium,
Chile, Mexico. Julia traced her mom’s journeys around the world and
used the few details she knew to imagine the days when she would be
able to travel as well. Without question, the best night in Dave’s life
was the night he and Julia sat staring at the map, splitting a bottle
of wine stolen from the garage and planning travels the two of them
would go on together.
“Is she still in Mexico City?” Tom asked, dipping a spoon into one
DAVE 59
of the sauces simmering on the stove to take a taste. “More ginger?”
he said to Chef Mike, who shook his head.
“Yup,” Julia said. “Working at an art gallery and part-time at a bar-
slash-restaurant-slash-art-house movie theater.”
“That sounds about right,” Tom said with a smile. “That’s gotta be
the longest she’s spent in one place since you were born.”
“She says it might be her favorite place she’s lived in. Although
I’m sure she says that about everywhere she’s been, because she only
picks amazing places.” She slipped the postcard into her shirt pocket.
“We’re gonna go upstairs to dye our hair. Call us when some of this
amazing-smelling food is ready.”
“That’s funny, I thought I heard you say you were dying your hair,”
Ethan said, looking up from his notebook. Julia nodded with a smirk
and Ethan looked over at Dave.
“I’m going with green,” Dave said with a nod.
“Don’t you have to ask permission from us to do something like
this?” Tom said.
“I’m a college acceptee,” Julia said. “That pretty much grants me
freedom to do whatever I want, except for felonies.”
“How’d you get talked into this?” Tom asked Dave.
“Your daughter has a talent for corrupting the youth.”
“Don’t I know it,” Tom said. He crossed his muscular arms in front
of his chest and appraised the two of them. “I don’t think I’m ready to
let go of my iron fist of authority in this household.”
“Don’t worry,” Julia said, grabbing the CVS bag with the hair dye
60 NEVER ALWAYS SOMETIMES
off the counter and kissing him on the cheek. “You can still tell Dad
what to do all the time.”
“Hey,” Ethan called halfheartedly, his attention slipping back into
his work, “I resemble that remark.”
“Resemble? What, are you having a stroke, old man? Don’t you
mean resent?”
“It’s a Three Stooges reference,” Dave explained.
“There is hope yet,” Ethan said, giving Dave a smile as Julia dragged
him out of the kitchen by the arm. “Don’t make a mess,” he called out
after them.
“We are definitely making a mess,” Julia whispered to Dave as they
went up the stairs toward her room.
“Which of us is going first?” Dave said, reading the tiny print on
the side of the box.
“Let’s do yours first. Your hair’s darker, so we should probably let
the bleach sink in longer for you.”
They grabbed some old towels from the linen closet and spread
them around the bathroom in Julia’s room. Julia snapped on the
gloves that came in the box, and Dave sat on a stool in front of the
sink, watching Julia go over the instructions again. She had the most
hilariously exaggerated reactions to every step of the process, and
Dave sat back and watched, relishing each expression. Just as she was
about to dab a bit of the dye on Dave’s arm to test for skin allergies,
Debbie the cat jumped onto Dave’s lap, getting a green streak down
her back.
DAVE 61
“Oops. Dad’s not going to be a fan of that.”
As the bleach began to do its thing, whatever it was bleach actually
did to lighten hair, they swapped spots. Dave draped a towel over Julia’s shoulders and she undid her ponytail, her hair a light brown cascade
that brushed against his fingers. “Have we sufficiently researched this
process?”
“Depends on what you mean by ‘sufficiently.’”
“Um.”
“It might not look like a professional dye job but I won’t get us
killed.”
“I guess that’s reassuring?” Dave said, making sure the question
mark was understood. After the bleach had magically transformed
them into blondes—Julia pulling off the look much better than Dave
ever could, though he admitted he was biased—Dave took a seat in
the chair and watched a slightly different version of his best friend
pour out the dye into a little container provided in the kit.
“This stuff smells great,” Dave said.
“Don’t you dare get high off the fumes. Sit still,” she said,
straightening his head and focusing on the dye job.
It didn’t take her long to finish, since Dave didn’t have all that much
hair. The instructions said to let it sit