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