Never Always Sometimes - Adi Alsaid Page 0,30

experienced love

firsthand. Or maybe nothing would happen with Gretchen and his

life would be exactly the same, just unburdened by unrequited love.

Maybe that was enough.

He arrived to homeroom almost at the same time as Julia, right

before the bell went off. He accepted one of her earphones as they

took a seat together and waited for her to be awake enough for

conversation. When she paused the music, he told her about the idea

he’d had to break the first Never on the list: Never be recognized by your lunch spot.

They met Sunday night at school, Brett driving his pickup truck

straight onto the blacktop where Julia was already waiting, early

for once. In the darkening light of the evening, Dave could barely

102 NEVER ALWAYS SOMETIMES

see her silhouette leaning against the tree that they’d be, according

to Brett, “pimping out.” Brett had brought work gloves and goggles

for everyone, along with all the supplies: planks of wood, and two-

by-fours, and even a generator with some work lights. He claimed

to have borrowed it all with permission, which Dave found highly

unlikely, although he couldn’t help but feel flattered by his brother’s

efforts. Brett had even drawn up some plans after talking with Dave

and Julia on Friday about how they envisioned the project. Before

they started work, Brett pulled out his camera and started recording.

“Why are you filming this?”

“Because,” Brett said, “this is how you get voted onto the prom king ballot.” He got some shots of the tree where the seniors gathered for

lunch, which, over the weekend, would become the tree house known

as Dave and Julia’s lunch spot. He zoomed in on the plans he had

drawn out, then set up a tripod on the hill by the soccer field for a

time-lapse video.

“You’re being strangely helpful,” Julia said, putting on her gloves

and eyeing Brett. “I didn’t know you could be . . .”

“A nice person?” Brett said. “I’m a little hurt by that.”

“I wasn’t trying to insinuate anything, I was actually struggling

for a way to complete the thought. But, yeah, ‘nice person’ works. I

thought you were just going to be critical of the plan. Like with the

explosions.”

“Truth be told, I’ve been waiting for years for you guys to come out

of your shells. I wanted to be around to watch it happen.”

DAVE 103

“Shells? What shells? I’m not shy.”

“It has nothing to do with shyness. The little tortoise shell the

two of you live in without letting the rest of the world in,” Brett said, turning on the generator, the whirring cutting off Julia’s chance to

retort. She looked over at Dave, who could only shrug. There was

probably some truth in what he’d said.

At first it didn’t seem like they were accomplishing much. Dave

and Julia stacked piles of wood around the tree. Brett would hand

Dave a few pencil-marked boards and tell him where to hammer in

nails, which Dave would do it slowly, careful not to miss the neat little X s. Music playing from Brett’s truck filled the night, though it was often drowned out by sawing, drilling, and Julia making fun of Brett’s

taste in music.

Then, all of a sudden, there were stairs leading up the tree to where

the first of the branches spread out to cast a shade that the seniors

claimed as their own. The skeleton of a tree house had appeared

almost as if through magic. It was nothing that Dave would dare to

get into yet, but if he squinted at it he could see it coming to life, like a connect-the-dots drawing that was still a missing a few lines.

With each plank that was hammered into place, each branch

sawed out of the way, a palpable sense of accomplishment built in

the air, or maybe that was just happening in Dave’s head. Every now

and then Julia’s arm would brush against his, bare despite the chilly

night—they’d all started sweating early, and long sleeves were quickly

rolled up, sweaters discarded into a small pile in the bed of the pickup 104 NEVER ALWAYS SOMETIMES

truck, which early in the night held tons of supplies and now was

mostly bare. It would be a lie to say he felt nothing at the touch of

her skin—skin doesn’t forget so quickly—nor would it be honest to

say it didn’t make him happy—hearts are even worse at learning new

habits—but it didn’t feel momentous anymore. In fact, the shiver

down his spine rather quickly led to thoughts of Gretchen, and it was

with her face in mind that he put together the tree house.

When the sun started to bruise the sky with its approach, the

three of them put their tools down and looked at the tree. Dave was

sweating, and he could