Never Always Sometimes - Adi Alsaid Page 0,87

more than when

my ex cheated on me.”

“I swear, Gretchen.”

DAVE & JULIA 291

Gretchen let out a sigh, shaking her head at the ground and then

looking up at him with a smile of all things. “You make me happy,

Dave. And as pissed as I was at you, it’s been hard to forget that. I want you to keep making me happy. I want you to leave things a little better

than you found them.”

Relief washed through Dave, even before she took another step and

wrapped her arms around him, enveloping him.

“That was the longest you’ve ever held a straight face,” he said, taking a whiff of her hair, kissing her cheek, almost jittery with gratitude. His hands were shaky, and he felt his voice waver, as if he were on the verge of tears, not laughter.

“I thought you’d be proud of me.” She broke the hug and took his

hand in hers, then leaned in to kiss him. It’d only been a few weeks

since they’d kissed, but the pause in between had felt eternal.

Gretchen burrowed herself into his chest, wrapping her arms

around him tightly. “I missed you.”

He hugged back. “I did, too.”

People did not speak highly enough of hugs. Yeah, they had a good

reputation, but it didn’t really compare to how great they actually were.

People should be walking around hugging each other all the time,

amazed.

The sun kept dipping down into the ocean and the lights came on

at the harbor, casting sudden shadows on the ground, illuminating the

faces that were just a second ago silhouettes. The sky was golden and

purple, the ocean a darker shade of violet.

292 NEVER ALWAYS SOMETIMES

FLOAT

IT WAS A Friday night and Julia had not seen a movie in far too

long. Really seen one. She drove past the theater in Pismo Beach that

showed all the indie flicks and saw that it was packed, as she should

have known it would be. Her heart knew exactly what it wanted,

though, so she found a parking spot a couple blocks away, leaving her

phone in the center console, her earphones wrapped around it.

Julia splurged on some popcorn, since she’d brought a bottle of

hot sauce with her, a quirk she tried out ever since her mom had

mentioned in a postcard that that’s how they ate it in Mexico. It pissed Julia off that her mom still had this hold on her even after that whole

meltdown at the tree house. She should have been swearing off all

things mom-related right now, idolizing her dads, who lived quiet lives

but knew how to love. Except here Julia was, squirting hot sauce onto

her popcorn. Disdainfully, sure, but still.

The theater was mostly full, and she took a seat close to the front,

where the screen would take up her entire view and she could immerse

herself in the movie. It was one thing she and Dave had always

disagreed on, how close to sit. He hated craning his neck, she didn’t

like seeing the little silhouettes of other moviegoers in her periphery.

Julia munched slowly on her popcorn, trying to save most of it

for when the movie started rolling. She stared absently at the trivia

questions they played on the screen before the previews, questions

she’d seen on easily a dozen different trips to the theater, since before the whole Nevers thing began. Struck by a realization, she riffled

through the contents of her bag. Flip-flops her dads made her carry

around, just in case. Earrings she hardly ever wore, her agenda, a

couple of tampons, Heart of Darkness, still mostly unread. Her wallet, which was full of receipts she didn’t need. In one of the side pockets

she finally found the list, and she pulled it out, unfolding it. One of the creases had started to tear.

She’d used three different colored pens to cross off the items she

and Dave had done. Now she grabbed the simple black ballpoint pen

that was tucked into her agenda, used Heart of Darkness as a writing surface, and touched the tip to the paper. Her eyes passed over each

item, quickly recalling all the things they’d done. When she got to

number seven she laughed out loud. A heart-to-heart in the tree house

was good enough. She crossed out Never hook up with a teacher.

The only one they hadn’t thought to cross out yet was number ten:

Never date your best friend. She ran a finger over the subtitle that Dave had added on when they were fourteen: Dave and Julia’s Guide to an

Original High School Experience. His boyish handwriting was so much like her own that sometimes she found notes they’d written each other

and couldn’t make out which side of the conversation was