Never Always Sometimes - Adi Alsaid Page 0,20

somewhere.”

“I don’t think I’m ready to be the guy that collects hair in a bag.”

Gretchen laughed in a way he hadn’t seen before, this goofy laugh

that showed off her front teeth and sounded like it came from a

cartoon character.

“When I hit rock bottom, that’s when I start collecting hair.”

“What do you think people who collect hair do with it?”

“I don’t know if those people actually exist. I think that’s just

something TV shows and movies made up for the creepiness factor

and to get some laughs.”

“Oh, they exist. I’m sure of it.”

“You think?” Dave said. Just then, the redheaded hipster girl

DAVE 71

who’d been cutting Gretchen’s hair brushed off the clippings from

Gretchen’s shoulder and said they were all done. Dave found himself

thinking, Don’t go.

Then his stylist turned on the razor and kept his head still, and

Gretchen disappeared from Dave’s sight. It was an abrupt and

disappointing good-bye. Still, it was a little thrilling having a good

conversation with someone who wasn’t Julia. It was a little liberating,

truth be told, to think of someone else for a while. When Dave stood

up to pay, now sporting a completely shaved head, he saw that it hadn’t

been a good-bye at all; Gretchen was waiting for him at the front.

“I don’t know if you drove here,” Gretchen said, “but I can give you

a ride home, if you want. Since we live so close.” Without waiting for

an answer, she reached up and ran a hand over his shaved head. “This

feels nice.”

“Thanks,” he said, wondering if she could spot the goose bumps

she’d given him. “I’d love a ride.”

“Good.” She smiled, then motioned with her head. “It’s this way.”

72 NEVER ALWAYS SOMETIMES

PARTICULAR SHADES

ANOTHER PERFECT CALIFORNIA day. There were plenty of them

throughout the year, so many that they were nearly indistinguishable,

a string of blessings that were mostly taken for granted, except for

when there were three or four chilly days in a row and everyone

suddenly longed for perfection again. So when Mr. Patch, Dave and

Julia’s AP English teacher, decided to have class outside, it was less

an impulse to take advantage of the weather and more of an excuse to

allow everyone to waste an hour.

They were supposed to be working on practice essays, but even

Mr. Patch was lying against the tree where most of the seniors

gathered for lunch, pretending to keep an eye on things. Some people

from class were sitting at the picnic tables near the cafeteria, their

notebooks (paper or computer) nowhere to be seen. A handful of

people had put in their earphones as soon as they’d stepped outside.

Julia and Dave separated themselves from the class immediately, and

they laid out at the edge of the soccer field, where a little hill faced out at the blacktop and the rest of the school. Julia was resting her head

on Dave’s stomach, her pink hair just as bright as when they dyed it.

The weight of her against him was like warmth added to the day. It

quieted everything, as if the touch of her head on his stomach was a

mute button, and all that existed was the two of them.

In the days since the hair coloring and the shenanigans with

Marroney in the Chili’s bathroom, Julia had been in a fantastic mood.

All she wanted to do was plan out the rest of the Nevers, starting

with Dave’s prom king campaign. It was hard not to get caught up in

the excitement. Yes, he’d sat next to Gretchen during their last two

classes together, and walked with her to her next class, even though

his was on the other side of school and he’d arrived late. She was fun

to talk to, and the more he found out about her, the more colorful she

seemed. But this was Julia, and a maybe-crush could not compare.

Another class joined the unofficial festivities. An art class,

judging from the large sketch pads the students carried with them.

The teacher was reading a paperback as she walked, smug in her

knowledge that if anyone could get away with having their class

outside it was the art teacher. Dave spotted Gretchen among the

art students, a dark green sketchbook with a pencil in the spiral

binding tucked under her arm. She was talking to Joey Planko, a

junior soccer player who, from what Dave had heard at the Kapoor

party, was already getting scholarship offers. Frankly, he looked

like he could receive scholarship offers solely for having muscles.

He looked like the human version of a sports car.

Dave watched them walk across the blacktop, passing in front of

where he and Julia were lying. He kept preparing his arm to wave

at Gretchen when she noticed him, but her eyes were turned in

74 NEVER ALWAYS