never seen the sunrise. Well, maybe in passing, on the way to
school or the airport to catch an early flight. But she’d never woken up specifically to see it, never taken the time to watch the sky lighten from complete darkness to unquestioned day. She’d told him that on their
date at the harbor, and Dave had promised to take her someday. He’d
already picked out the spot where they would go—Brett knew a way
to get to the roof of the school, which gave an unobstructed view clear
to the mountains in the east—but he’d been putting together a playlist
for them to listen to and it wasn’t yet long enough.
Dave looked around their impromptu campsite. Their clothes were
strewn about, one of Dave’s shoes dangerously close to where the fire
had been. A forgotten marshmallow lay in the sand, half-buried next
to the jug of iced tea, which had tipped over on its side. The sound of
cars on the freeway was not yet constant, but Dave knew it would be
soon.
Gretchen would be waking up right about now. He’d watched her
wake up before, though they hadn’t gone as far as he and Julia had.
She’d probably be on her side, curled into a ball, her hands reaching
out to her cell phone as soon as she opened her eyes. He could picture
the glow of the screen reflected on her face, in the big brown eyes
that he’d been looking into so often the last couple of weeks, on those
cheekbones. A sick feeling took root in his stomach.
He looked down at Julia, who kept sleeping peacefully, her breath
steady as a metronome. He couldn’t completely see her mouth, but
he imagined that she’d fallen asleep with a smile on her face and that
it was still there. Unlike him, she would wake up with no one on her
mind but Dave himself.
Dave remembered their countless movie nights, how he’d long for
the loll of her head, which meant the movie was losing her and she’d
soon rest her cheek against his shoulder. Once, they’d both drifted
off, and Dave had woken up in the middle of the night to the movie
playing over again, Julia’s arm looped through his. He’d kept his eyes
closed and pretended to still be sleeping, the joy so simple that he
didn’t dare disturb it. At one point, Julia had stirred, then nestled back into him, as if the same thing was on her mind. Strange now to think
that it might have been, that everything he’d wanted had been well
within reach.
DAVE & JULIA 239
He undoubtedly loved her. It had been an incredible night,
extraordinary despite the clichés that were peppered in the details. It
was a dream come true, literally and metaphorically, except that dream
was now tangled up with the dream of Gretchen.
Dave shifted a little, bringing his hand to Julia’s temple and rubbing
it in slight circles to gently wake her up. He wished he could just focus on this, let her sleep. He wanted to be overjoyed, rather than happy
and wrecked by guilt.
Gretchen was going to be hurt, and angry. She might never talk to
him again. The thought brought a panic in Dave’s chest that made him
want to get up that instant, shake Julia awake, as if leaving could undo it all. But he’d been hoping for exactly this to happen for so long that it was impossible to walk away from it. “Julia,” he said softly, not knowing what else there was to say.
She stirred, but only pressed herself closer against him, planting a
kiss on his chest before resuming her rhythmic breathing. A seagull
suddenly appeared near them, stepping cautiously toward him. It
peered at Dave suspiciously, its eyes little black marbles that saw him
only as a threat. Dave nodded, as if to confirm that he dealt out harm
all the time. The sun climbed higher through the fog. The seagull
made away with the marshmallow. Emptied out by guilt, the shame
rising from his stomach and exuding through his pores, Dave let Julia
sleep a little longer, delaying what was to come for as long as he could.
240 NEVER ALWAYS SOMETIMES
RIDICULOUS
THE ONLY WORD Julia could use to describe herself when she woke
up was ridiculous. It was ridiculous to wake up feeling so happy. She
was like the cartoon of someone in love. Any second now animated
bluebirds were going to land on her shoulder and start harmonizing.
She felt like a Jack White guitar riff.
She kissed Dave again as soon as she woke up, laughed at how
much sand there was everywhere. Sitting up, she looked around
at the detritus of their little picnic: the half-empty jug of tea on its side as if it had