Never Always Sometimes - Adi Alsaid Page 0,9

saying a thing about it. How much unrequited,

unspoken love filled up the halls every day? How many kids in class

felt exactly like Dave did on a day-to-day basis? “You’re probably not

alone,” Dave finally settled for. “I’m sure most of us are thinking about someone else when we’re in class.”

“Yeah, but that’s mostly horniness.”

They chuckled, then Dave finished his beer and crumpled it like

Vince had. “Do you want to talk more about Carly?”

“Nah,” Vince said, standing up. “Just saying it out loud every now

and then makes it more bearable. Thanks for listening. Let’s go inside

DAVE 37

and get drunker and talk to other people who are being gently eaten

alive by longing.”

Dave smiled, and then took the hand Vince was offering to

help him off the bench. Dave strolled around the house, reveling in

everyone’s drunkenness, and how different it was than he’d imagined.

It made him think of the title of one of his favorite albums, You Forgot It in People by Broken Social Scene, and he was a little embarrassed that he’d assumed all of his classmates were cartoons of teenagers.

When he couldn’t spot Julia anywhere, he checked his phone again

and saw that the battery had died. There was a flutter of worry when

the screen didn’t click on, Dave feeling like a shitty friend for being

unreachable, for maybe causing her to worry. Then the mood of the

party settled back into his bones and he pocketed the phone, sure

that Julia was elsewhere in the house, enjoying herself in just the same way he was.

He’d ended up in the den, where he stared at the hundreds of

books in the Kapoors’ library, turning his head slightly to read the

spines.

“I do that, too,” a girl’s voice said.

He looked up to find Gretchen, a girl from his AP Chemistry

class. Her back was to him, but he could recognize her by her hair,

which was wavy enough to maybe be considered curly. It was dark

blond, lightening up toward the ends, though he didn’t know enough

about her or her hair to know if the blonder tips were natural or the

evidence of a past dye job.

She turned to look at him, big brown eyes and the hint of a smile.

38 NEVER ALWAYS SOMETIMES

At a glimpse, he could tell that her bottom teeth were slightly crooked.

The world was full of details he’d failed to notice before.

“Do what?” he said.

“Check out bookshelves at strangers’ houses,” she answered,

stepping up next to him and looking at the books as if to prove she

wasn’t lying. “I’m usually a bit awkward in houses that I haven’t been

to before, so it’s a way to not look weird. If I find something I’ve read before it automatically makes me more comfortable.”

He looked over at Gretchen, who fixed her eyes on the books. She

was in a simple blue dress and—Dave couldn’t help the thought—

looked lovely. “Is that what you’re doing now?”

She met his eyes for just a moment and turned them away again,

trying to hide a grin. “Oh, I don’t know how to read.”

She was laughing as she said it, showing another glimpse of her

crooked lower teeth. They weren’t unsightly, just imperfect. Dave

liked the look of them, for some reason.

Dave chuckled. “That was one of the worst attempts at a lie I’ve

ever seen.”

“Dammit, I know.” She blushed a little and rolled her eyes at

herself. “I’ve been trying to get better, but I smile every time. I think I could be one of the greatest pranksters of our generation, but my

mouth just doesn’t want any part of it. Stupid smile.”

“I’m Dave. We have AP—”

“AP Chem, I know. Come on, Dave, I live, like, a block away from

you. We were in the same lab group that one time.”

“Right. Sorry, I just usually assume people don’t know me.”

DAVE 39

“I know you,” she said. A lock of blond hair fell in front of her face

and she pulled on it, examining the lighter ends for a few seconds

before letting it drop against her dress. “So, have you read any of

these?”

“All of them,” Dave said. A silent, funny look passed between

them, acknowledging the fact that he’d delivered the line with a

straight face.

Gretchen reached over and pulled a maroon book out at random.

“What’s this one about?” She turned the book over and pretended to

read the back copy, though there wasn’t any. She furrowed her brow

and concentrated, but the corners of her mouth twitched anyway,

begging to smile.

He took a step closer to her and pulled the book up to read the

title, California Real Estate Law 1987–1992. At this distance, it was hard not to notice Gretchen in her entirety. He’d