Never Always Sometimes - Adi Alsaid Page 0,18

Dave go

until her dads saw his hair. They made their way downstairs, where

Tom, Ethan, and Chef Mike seemed to have never left the spots

they’d been at the day before.

“Good timing, we’re just about to test the Sunday brunch menu,”

Ethan said when he heard them entering the kitchen. He was typing

on his computer while Tom peeked over Chef Mike’s shoulder,

watching him crack an egg into a steaming pot of water. Julia held

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her laughter, waiting for them to look up. She took a seat at one of

the stools positioned by the kitchen island, and finally Ethan looked

away from his screen and gasped.

The other two men turned to look at Dave. Tom immediately

broke out in laughter. Chef Mike just said, “Yikes,” before returning

to poaching eggs.

“Yup, going to the mall right now,” Dave said.

“You probably should, I might lose my appetite otherwise.”

“Ouch,” Dave said, though he took a seat next to Julia and Ethan.

Ethan pulled his glasses off and reached over to touch Julia’s hair.

“This actually suits you.”

Dave loved sitting in the kitchen with Julia and her dads, loved

the ease with which they talked and laughed with each other. He

wished him and Brett and their dad had it, too. Dave had always

wondered how Tom and Ethan handled Julia’s infatuation with her

mom, whether they were ever hurt by it. But when he sat with them

in their kitchen, it became clear that there was plenty of love to go

around. No matter how much she longed for her mom, Julia never

neglected her dads.

“How does your bathroom look?” Tom said, pouring a mug of

coffee and offering it to Dave.

Julia quickly cupped her hand over Dave’s mouth. “Spotless.”

“You’re grounded,” Tom said, shaking his head.

“We had this discussion yesterday. Your reign of terror over me

is done. Let it go.” Julia pulled her hand back and reached for Dave’s

66 NEVER ALWAYS SOMETIMES

mug, blowing slightly at the surface. There was a hint of a chemical

smell around the two of them from the hair dye, and Dave was

thankful for the aromatic tendrils of steam rising from the coffee. He

rose from his chair and went to the fridge to grab the milk, adding

just a splash, the way Julia liked it. “So how’s the restaurant going?

When do I get to see the dream come true?”

“More like a nightmare,” Ethan muttered. He put his glasses back

on, then looked over at Julia. “Just kidding. Don’t panic.”

“Julia panics?” Dave asked, sitting back down.

Julia gave Ethan a light smack on the arm. “I have a rep to live up

to; don’t tell people stuff like that.”

“Is there really anything this kid doesn’t know about you?”

“Not the point.” Julia drank from her mug, then slid it across the

marble top to Dave.

They spent the morning in the comforts of the kitchen and the

joys of the banter that Julia had learned from her dads. She filled

them in vaguely on the Nevers, stating that she and Dave were

conducting important sociological research into the world of the

modern teenager. It sometimes felt like Dave belonged in that

kitchen, though he knew he was just using Tom and Ethan’s warmth

as a reason to think he and Julia were meant for more than friendship.

When the afternoon started looming, Dave forced himself to leave

the house, to cut his hair and maybe see his own family for a bit.

The mall was a slight detour on the way home, and throughout

the walk he wished he were the kind of guy who wore hats. There

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weren’t a lot of people around, but it was still embarrassing to be out

in public. He imagined even the squirrels, usually nonchalant about

human hairstyles, staring down at him from the trees and making

disgusted faces.

When he walked through the glass doors of the mall, he knew

right away he was going to run into someone he knew, someone from

school, someone who would be witness to the atrocity he and Julia

had committed on his head. The mall was swarming with families,

couples in their twenties, packs of middle school girls sharing cups of

lemonade. Huge banners hung from the rafters announcing a special

weekend-only sale.

He sighed and kept his eyes cast down on the floor, trying to

maneuver his way around the crowd without running into too many

people. Before he knew it, he was at the Supercuts, and the hipster girl with the red hair and the half sleeve of tattoos had written his name

down on her clipboard and told him to take a seat in the waiting area.

Just as he was sighing in relief, he saw that the only chair available

was right next to Gretchen. She was reading, but almost as soon as

his