pile
of dirty dishes scattered around the counter. “The dads will kill me if
they come back home to that.”
“What if I’m a hit man and this was all part of my plan when I
befriended you?”
130 NEVER ALWAYS SOMETIMES
“Who the hell would hire the world’s nicest thirteen-year-old as
an assassin?”
“A criminal mastermind,” Dave answered. “Plus, how do you know
I was nice before I met you? Maybe it was all an act.”
“Dave, you are the best-hearted person in the world. Even if you
were a murderer, you’d still be introducing yourself to homeless
people and getting them cups of water from the coffee shop. Maybe
you’ve been plotting my doom all these years. But the niceness is not
an act.”
“Well, shit. Now I feel bad about fooling your dads into murdering
you.” Dave turned on the faucet, taking his time with the soiled
mixing bowls, shutting the water off while he scrubbed to avoid
wasting water, to listen to Julia’s movements.
“David Beth Kacinski, are you blushing?”
“What? No. It’s all the steam from the water.”
“I made you blush!” She set down the tray of unbaked cupcakes
and came over to where he stood by the sink, wrapping him up in a
hug, her face pressed against his back. “No hit man blushes when he
gets called nice.”
“You don’t know that. . . .” Dave said, the water from the faucet
momentarily forgotten, little lumps of flour and sugar clinging to the
lips of the bowls. He wondered why it was that his mind kept going
to whichever girl was not with him.
Once they’d packed the cupcakes into a baking tray covered in foil,
they climbed into Julia’s car and headed to Marroney’s house. For
DAVE 131
the first time in his life, he felt like driving. But there was too much to explain in asking Julia if he could drive, since they’d forgotten to
recount their weekends. Or maybe he hadn’t so much forgotten as
chosen not to bring it up. He still didn’t know how to explain to Julia
what was happening between him and Gretchen. It was unknown
territory, dreams meeting reality but with a different set of characters, and so he didn’t even know how to explain it to himself.
Which isn’t to say he didn’t try. “You remember Gretchen,” Dave
said, knowing immediately that the non sequitur would sound weird.
Julia was driving, following her phone’s GPS directions. “I saw her
this weekend. Slash ran into her. Though not literally ran into her.
There were plans involved, I guess I should say.”
“Cool beans. Keep working that popularity angle. I think even
numbers are on your side,” Julia said, clearly too wrapped up in turn-
by-turn instructions to tune into Dave’s rambling.
“Do I want to know how you got his address?” Dave asked, happy
to divert the conversation elsewhere. “I kind of feel like asking just to find out a new euphemism for stalking.”
“Oh, no euphemisms this time,” Julia said, turning down a street
and looking at the house numbers. “Just flat-out stalking.”
Dave had thought she was kidding about dressing in black, but she
was in full stalking regalia, the only parts of her that would be visible in the dark were her bare feet and hands, the pink hair poking out the
side of her hoodie. “All right, so, what’s the plan here?”
“The plan? We walk up to the front door, ring the doorbell, and
hand him the cupcakes.” Julia parked the car in front of a nondescript
132 NEVER ALWAYS SOMETIMES
house, the kind that half of San Luis Obispo residents lived in:
single story, white garage door, perfectly triangular roof like the kind children always drew in pictures.
“So what’s with the ninja outfit?”
Julia looked down at her attire, as if noticing it for the first time.
“Oh. Right. I don’t know. I guess I’m just in stalker mode.”
Dave laughed, and out of habit put his hand on her head and shook
lightly, trying to determine if he could do this one gesture of affection he had with her and separate it from the feelings he no longer wanted
to have. “I worry about you,” he said, pulling his hand away and
unbuckling his seat belt. “So, am I coming with?”
Exactly half of him wanted her to say no, so he could avoid getting
sucked up in her craziness, wonderful though it may be. Three text
messages to and from Gretchen. He could stay in the car and text
Gretchen back and forth for a while until Julia came back. That was
exactly what he should do.
“Yeah, I need you for moral support. But if things are going well I
may need you to run to the drugstore to buy condoms.”
“That’s it. I’m throwing up.”
“I’m kidding,” Julia said with a grin. “I’ll want to