Never Always Sometimes - Adi Alsaid Page 0,3

pulled out of the school’s

DAVE 17

parking lot and turned right, headed toward California One and the

harbor at Morro Bay.

“So, we’re doing this?” Dave asked. “We’re gonna join in on what

everyone else has been doing?”

“Why not?” Julia said, and Dave couldn’t help but smile at the side

of her face, the way the sun made her eyes impossibly blue, how he

could see her mom on her thoughts. “I’ll come over before the party

so we can decide what we’re going to wear.”

“And we can talk about how drunk we’re gonna get,” Dave added.

“And who we’re gonna make out with.”

“Yup.”

Dave turned to face the road and sank into his seat. He lowered

the mirror visor and stuck his arm out the side of the car, feeling the

sun on his skin. He kept smiling, too experienced at hiding to let the

tiny heartbreak show.

18 NEVER ALWAYS SOMETIMES

FRIDAY AT THE KAPOORS’

BY FRIDAY, DAVE had mostly forgotten about their plans to attend

the party. It was only during homeroom when he asked Julia what

movie she wanted to watch that night that she reminded him about

their plans to attend the Kapoors’ party. A mild dread filled him as he

pictured his night full of drunken jackasses and shitty music rather

than sharing snacks with Julia in a darkened theater, getting coffee at

a diner afterward.

At six, Julia came over to get ready. She was wearing the same

clothes she’d worn to school, shorts and a T-shirt with the logo of a

bookstore in San Francisco. Her feet were bare, but she was holding

a plastic bag through which Dave could see a pair of high heels and a

few boxes.

“You’re joking with the shoes, right?”

“Hey, if I’m taking part in a cliché, I’m going all the way.” She

entered the house, moving past him with a light touch to his ribs.

“I can’t wait for that moment when all the other girls take their high

heels off to go barefoot and they finally see what a genius I am for not wearing shoes in the first place.”

“I don’t think that’s a high school thing,” Dave said, following her

into the kitchen. “I think high heels are more of a grown-up cliché.”

Julia plopped the bag down on the counter and scowled at him.

“Don’t take this away from me, Dave. Tonight the universe vindicates

my disdain for footwear.” She reached into the bag and took out

cupcake mix, some eggs, and a container of rainbow sprinkles.

“What’s all this?”

“The dads said it’s rude to show up to a party empty-handed,” Julia

said.

“So we’re gonna bake the Kapoors cupcakes?”

“If I’m being honest, I fully expect the two of us to eat most of

these. But yes.”

Dave picked up the cupcake mix and examined it, uncertain about

how the gesture would be received by their classmates, but finally

deciding that if he was going to get made fun of for being considerate,

as confusing as that would be, it was something he could live with. “If

we’re going to this party, I guess there may as well be sweets involved.”

“Damn right,” Julia said, leaning over to preheat the oven.

“You are the only two high school seniors in the world that would

be baking on a Friday night.” Brett stood at the entrance to the kitchen for a second, shaking his head before going to the fridge and grabbing

himself a beer. Dave wasn’t a small guy, six feet and an above-average

build, but when Brett stood at his full height, Dave couldn’t help but

feel small. Dave was almost a carbon copy of his dad, but in Brett,

their mom’s features lived on: the sharp nose and lighter eyes.

“For your information, Judgey McHigh Horse, we’re going to a

Kapoor party tonight.” Julia opened a few cabinets until she found a

mixing bowl.

20 NEVER ALWAYS SOMETIMES

“You two?” He looked at Dave, who could only shrug. “I wish I

could see that.”

“I’m sure you would take any chance you got to hang out around

high school girls again.”

“With you over all the time, I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

Brett took a swig from his beer. He’d just turned twenty-one, which

was a huge relief for their dad, who’d been letting Brett drink for a

while now. After their mom had died, Brett had helped take care of

Dave, and in his dad’s eyes, that earned him the right to do anything

he wanted. “So what’s with the baking?”

“It’s rude to show up empty-handed,” Dave offered.

Brett laughed.

“Okay, then. Good luck with that.” He lingered by the fridge for a

few minutes, finishing his beer. “How are there still Kapoor brothers

going to that school? I thought the youngest one graduated the same

year I did.”

“The triplets are juniors,” Dave said, pouring sugar