Never Always Sometimes - Adi Alsaid Page 0,79

to make it easier on Gretchen, to avoid the awkwardness of

eye contact. The class was restless, their interest waning as blood

sugar levels plummeted. Mr. Kahn asked questions and was met with

silence, no one even interested in cracking jokes. There was a lull, and Dave could feel everyone reaching for the end of the day.

“Bueller? Bueller?” Mr. Kahn was saying. He sighed. “Do you guys

even catch that reference?”

“Ferris Buel er’s Day Off,” someone yelled back. “We’re bored, not uncultured.”

The class broke out into laughter. Mr. Kahn frowned, then went to

his desk to collect a stack of papers. “All right, I guess lecturing is over.

This is your homework. You can take the last ten minutes of class to

get started.”

Chairs instantly pushed back, the volume of chattering rising like

a spark set to fuel.

“Quietly please!” Mr. Kahn said, and the chattering diminished but

was not snuffed out. Then he walked over with the stack of papers and

handed it to Dave. “Would you mind passing these out?”

Dave’s heart sank. “Sure.” He stood up, trying to keep his eyes from

flitting in Gretchen’s direction. Would he be able to see the heartbreak 266 NEVER ALWAYS SOMETIMES

on her face? Would she be crying? Avoiding his gaze? Maybe there

was an e-mail feature he didn’t know about that told people how many

times you’d reread their e-mail. Maybe she’d be able to see it on his

face, no technology required.

When he handed her the packet, he tried to fix his eyes on

something innocuous, the wooden desk, or the wall, or the floor. But

on her desk was her forearm with its film of fine golden hairs, and on

the wall was the clock, and on the floor were her scuffed sneakers. So

his eyes in the end landed on her. She was looking at the paper already, uncapping her pen, her shoulders hunched over the desk, blond waves

falling onto the papers. In a surprisingly sweet voice, she said, “Thanks, Dave.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, the words out of his mouth before he was

conscious they’d been bubbling up. Gretchen tapped her pen against

her desk a few times, biting her bottom lip. He hadn’t apologized at all, he now realized. Even that morning when she’d seen him with Julia.

He’d run after her, but he’d never said he was sorry. The shame caused

him to look away, take in the sights of the classroom. There was a

ballet of pens twirling around fingers, plenty of doodling going on,

Jane Henley was eating an apple.

“Dude, the papers!” someone called out, and Dave handed the

remaining stack to the girl sitting next to Gretchen. A second ago he

couldn’t imagine facing her, and now he couldn’t step away. Julia would

want him to apologize, right? He’d avoided bringing Gretchen up at

all, and maybe that’d been what was off between them.

Gretchen finally looked up at Dave. She had bags under her eyes.

DAVE & JULIA 267

Reaching back, she piled her hair together, sticking her pen through

the bun to keep it in place. Then she leaned forward, putting her chin

in her hand. “I was just saying thanks for the papers. You don’t have

to apologize.”

“But I want to. I’m sorry.”

Gretchen looked around the room. He found himself wishing he

knew her a little better, well enough to guess at what she was thinking.

“That’s not enough,” Gretchen said after a moment. “To be sorry you

hurt me is not enough for me to forgive you.”

Dave stuck his hands in his pockets, eyes on the ground. From

years of watching Julia do it, he felt the impulse to kick his shoes

off. He wondered in the silence that—regardless of the noise in the

classroom—filled the space between him and Gretchen how Julia’s

barefoot obsession had started. “I know. I think I should say it again

anyway. I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, I hadn’t planned on that

happening. I thought it was just a friendly road—”

“Dave, stop.” She shifted in her seat, pulling up one leg and tucking

it beneath her. “Just ’cause there’s a part of me that sends emotional

e-mails doesn’t mean I want the details.” She grabbed the pen out of

the bun, causing her hair to spill down. Then she lowered her gaze

back to the papers in front of her. “You made your choice.”

They’d spent the afternoon in bed again, Dave trying to interpret what

the slightest touch meant. When Julia turned her back to him, he

thought, She feels it, too. Then a second later she asked him to be the 268 NEVER ALWAYS SOMETIMES

big spoon and he wondered what the hell was wrong with him, why

he insisted that things weren’t perfect. He pressed himself close and

kissed the back of her neck.

The