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