Never Always Sometimes - Adi Alsaid Page 0,74

Julia’s face. He was lying beside her, his head a

few inches above the warmth of her skin, the pink hair that he loved

finding all over his room. Dave tilted his head to the side, his eyes open wide.

“You are such a weirdo.”

Dave blinked, bobbed his neck.

“What are you even doing?” Julia laughed, flinching. Then he

sprung on her, attacking her face with kisses, dozens of quick pecks

that left her breathless from the laughter. She put her hands on his

face and moved him toward her mouth.

This was exactly like everything he’d dreamed about. True, it had felt

close to this with Gretchen, too. True, he still found long blond hairs

on his carpet, on his clothes. Sometimes, he caught himself about to

compliment Julia in the same way he’d complimented Gretchen before.

But he imagined that love often looked similar, regardless of who was

involved. He tried to think of a compliment he’d never said and when

nothing came, he buried his face into her neck. They hadn’t done a

thing for hours. The TV was on, but God knew what it was playing.

Homework had not left their backpacks in days.

Dave fell back onto his pillow. “I need to pee.”

“If you get up, you have to pee for me.”

“Why haven’t scientists figured that one out yet? You should be able

to transfer the need to pee.”

Dave pulled back to fluff his pillow. He found the remote and

turned to the TV to put on a movie. They hadn’t even made it through

a movie as a couple yet. Before the closing credits could roll, they’d both be asleep, or giggling, or . . . well. He got distracted halfway through scrolling to look down at Julia. Brushing her pink hair behind her ear,

he wondered why it often looked like she was tearing up. The first few

times he’d asked if everything was okay, she’d looked at him like he was crazy. So he’d stopped asking. Every time he saw that glint, though, he

wondered what was on her mind. Maybe nothing was, and it was just

him imagining things.

He placed his hand on her shoulder as he turned his attention back

to the TV. It was hard to have her nearby and not touch her. At school,

DAVE & JULIA 251

their legs were constantly shifting under their desks, always leaning

against each other.

“What’s that one?” Julia had turned to look at the TV.

“That’s, uh,” Dave said, stammering, not wanting to bring up the

fact that the movie she was talking about was the one he’d watched

with Gretchen, “I watched that already. Not great.”

“But is it not great in a great way?”

“Not really.”

“Ah. Lame.”

Dave kept scrolling through the options, and Julia scooched closer,

resting her head on his chest. Downstairs, he could hear Brett and his

dad watching sports on TV, nothing said between them. He finally

chose some political drama series that he’d heard good things about.

It didn’t take long for Julia to fall asleep, and the feel of her breathing made him want to join her. Then his phone buzzed on the nightstand,

and despite the comfort and the warmth, his arm jolted for it.

Gretchen’s name was on his screen. It wasn’t a text message, but an

e-mail. The subject line was empty, only a few words from the body of

the text appearing in the preview. Did you know . . . was all he could see.

He stared at his phone for a second, then looked down at Julia. She

was in a tank top and the shorts she’d borrowed from him every time

she’d come over that week. The three freckles on her neck were right

in his line of vision. He’d kissed every one of them over and over again.

Dave slid his thumb across the screen. He owed her that much.

Even if the bliss of having Julia often distracted him from the fact,

252 NEVER ALWAYS SOMETIMES

Dave felt awful about what he’d done to Gretchen. If she’d written

an angry e-mail telling him what an awful person he was, then he

deserved the discomfort of reading it. As the e-mail loaded, he planted

a kiss on the top of Julia’s head.

. . . that I almost told you that I love you? I know that’s insane. But I’ve always been quick to love, and I’m actual y surprised I held it in this long.

I shouldn’t even be writing this e-mail. If my friends knew I was writing it, they’d yell at me, and I’ll probably yell at myself tomorrow. Unless I don’t get any sleep, as has been the case, and my mental state is even worse than it is at this moment.

You hurt me, Dave. You’re smart