Читать книгу Never Always Sometimes - Adi Alsaid - Страница 11
ОглавлениеDAVE FLUSHED AND washed his hands, drying them off on his jeans since the single hand towel was clearly soaked through. He glanced briefly at himself in the mirror, wondering what he would look like in a polo shirt and then shaking off the thought, or more like shuddering it away the way he did with nightmares. This had been an interesting experiment, but now it was time to find Julia and go back to their little world of two.
Except that the party had rearranged itself while Dave was in the bathroom. The number of people in the kitchen had doubled. Beer pong was over and now there was a new game being played, one he’d seen Brett and his friends play, though he’d never really cared enough to try to understand it. Julia wasn’t where they’d been standing for most of the night.
He surveyed the room but couldn’t spot her, which surprised him. He was so used to looking for her that he felt unreasonably skillful at it, as if no matter how many people were around his eyes would easily land on her. Her presence called out to him like a beacon.
“Dave!” Vince Staffert shouted on his approach, clearly drunk. “Yo!”
“Hey, Vince.”
“Come play flip cup with us. We need one more.” He put his arm around Dave’s shoulders and started pulling him away from the wall.
“Uh, I don’t really know how to play,” Dave said, trying to hold his ground.
“Dave, you got into UCLA. I’m sure you can figure out a drinking game.”
Caught off guard by Vince knowing that about him, Dave stammered, “I—I shouldn’t. Julia and I were just about to go.”
Vince sometimes asked Dave for help in math class, and from those few interactions, Dave had always thought of him as a nice guy. He knew there was another side to Vince, football player that he was, but all he’d ever seen was someone big and quiet and not so good at math.
“This house is not that big. She’ll find you.” Vince pulled him to the kitchen table. Cups were scattered and stacked across the surface, little puddles of beer pooling together. The other team consisted of two guys and two girls, none of whom Dave knew on a first-name basis, though he’d seen them around school.
“Guys, I’m not sure you want me on your team.”
“Yeah, I agree,” one of the other football players said to Vince.
“AJ, don’t be a dick. Here,” Vince said, pouring some beer in a cup, which by the looks of it had been used many a time throughout the night. “The game’s easy,” he declared and explained the rules in a few seconds. “Got it?” Once, Dave and Julia had misread a flyer and, thinking they were about to see an author they loved, had accidentally attended a reading at the library by the West Coast’s leading researcher on menopause. So it’d be hard to say that this was the most out of place Dave had ever felt. But it was close enough.
Dave sighed. He and Julia had avoided all of this because they’d wanted their high school years to be a little more unique than everyone else’s. And yeah, they were here to see what they’d successfully avoided, but Dave had meant to just be an observer.
Dave surveyed the room one last time for Julia. The blue of her eyes, those three freckles on her neck. But she was nowhere around, and so he checked his phone. A text from her was waiting on his screen. Went off to explore the craziness on my own. Best story at the end of the night wins. Godspeed.
He smiled at the words, at what a great idea it was. Julia could turn any situation into something inherently more interesting. You’re on, he wrote back, already looking forward to reuniting with her, though he had no doubts she would have the better story.
Then he gave Vince a nod and turned his attention to the game.
o o o
Seventeen wins in a row later, Dave could feel the alcohol practically bubbling in his veins. It felt a little like doing a somersault underwater and then coming up really quickly, your head spinning and sending a warm tingle down your spine. Dave, it turned out, was prodigiously good at flip cup. He’d yet to fail at flipping a cup over. Every time it was his turn, he’d swallow the beer down in a second or two, and with one deft move of his hand, the cup would be upside down on the table without so much as a wobble.
Vince was nearly in hysterics, throwing a meaty arm around Dave’s neck, high-fiving everyone in the vicinity with his other hand, yelling about them being the world champions until no one else wanted to play them.
He and Vince walked outside without discussion, as if they were magnetically drawn to the fresh air. Dave looked around for Julia, wanting her to be nearby, longing to just exchange stupid jokes back and forth like they’d been doing for so long. He was going to break away and look for her, but then he noticed the briskness of the air and the way everyone seemed to be smiling and he took a seat with Vince on a bench.
“How come we’ve never hung out before, Dave?”
“I don’t know,” he answered. He burped, then chuckled at the thought of two dudes drinking beers and burping together. “Probably ’cause of Julia,” he added. “I’m usually trying to spend my time with her.”
“I’ve always wondered, are you two dating?”
“Nah. Just friends,” Dave said, a line he was used to delivering with as little emotion as possible, as if he were a spy trying not to be discovered.
Vince crushed his beer can in his hand and placed it by his feet. He put his hands on his knees—smaller hands than Dave would have expected from someone Vince’s size. “Since the truth serum known as Keystone Light is coursing through my veins, I’m gonna open up a bit here. You ready for it?”
“I’m ready,” Dave said, wondering what Julia would make of the conversation.
“You can handle it? Peering deep into my soul?”
“To be honest, right now it kind of feels like I can peer into everyone’s soul.”
“That sounds pretty scary to me,” Vince said with a smile. He ran a hand over his head, which was shaved recently, only the thinnest layer of fuzz starting to show through. “I am so in love,” he groaned, putting his elbows on his knees and slouching over. “Two years, man. She’s like some sickness I can’t get rid of.”
“Who?”
“Carly,” he said quietly, though no one was paying enough attention to them to hear. “She’s all I think about.” Vince looked so sad all of a sudden.
“Does she know?”
“I was always waiting for the right time to tell her, then she met some guy from Pacific Beach. At one of our games, no less. She’s been dating him for over a year, and I’ve barely been able to sleep since. I wake up at four a.m. thinking of things to say to her, and I repeat them to myself until my alarm goes off and it’s time to go to school to stop myself from saying it.”
Dave made a little hum of agreement in the back of his throat. Inside the house, people were taking pictures of themselves on their phones, making faces, kissing each other on the cheek. Their eyes were glazed over, and everyone seemed to be either shouting across the room or whispering into someone else’s ear. He couldn’t remember who Carly was. “You could tell her anyway. Just to get it off your chest.”
“I don’t want it off my chest, though. It keeps me close to her. Plus, she’s happy, and it’s not my place to disturb that.” He sat back against the bench and smiled sadly. “Is that weird?”
“Nah, it’s not weird. Actually, Julia and I have this list...” He stopped himself when he couldn’t think of how to phrase what he wanted to say without calling Vince a cliché. So many people were quietly in love that he and Julia considered it part of a normal high school experience and had therefore sworn it off. But Dave hadn’t really thought about it in those terms in a long time. Pining silently was a cliché, which meant that people were constantly in love with each other without 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 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. 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.”
“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 always seen her out of the corner of his eyes, blond locks and not much more, talkative, active at school in the way that he and Julia inherently disapproved of. Her legs were tan from soccer practices in the sun, and she wore scuffed beige sneakers that didn’t really go with her dress. “This one’s an adventure-slash-love story,” he said, looking at the faint dimple in her chin.
“Ooh, that’s my favorite genre! And here I was judging the book by its cover.”
“What was your guess? Judging by the cover.”
“Erotica,” she said, nodding. “I would have definitely thought hard-core erotica.”
He laughed, the image of her reforming itself, starting to fill up with color.
“So tell me about this adventure-slash-love story.”
Maybe for the first time, he looked at her and saw more than just her face. The words that he would have used to describe her yesterday—that she was just another popular pretty girl, a soccer player who maybe ran for student council or worked on the yearbook or something like that—suddenly seemed to lack any real description. That was true of many of the people at the party, he realized. It was like he’d been carrying around a coloring book that hadn’t yet been drawn in. He and Julia knew the outlines of people, but not much more.
“Well,” he said, and he took a seat on the leather couch behind them. Gretchen sat down next to him, the space between them hard to distinguish because of how her dress fell onto his jeans. “It’s about this guy named...” He struggled for a name, then grabbed the book from Gretchen’s hand and flipped to a random page. “A guy named Californian Tort Law.”
“He sounds cute.”
“So cute.”
“Is there a girl?”
Dave smiled at her, at the way she’d positioned herself to face him, at the way she was smiling back, at all the unexpected turns his night had taken, normal as it may have been to everyone else at the Kapoor house. He wondered only briefly about how Julia’s night had gone since they’d split, whether she’d discovered some of the same things he had about their classmates.
“Well, I wouldn’t want to give it away. You’ll just have to read it yourself.”
“No! Don’t be like that. I want to hear the whole story tonight.”
“I don’t think there’s much left of tonight,” Dave said, looking back toward the living room, which had definitely quieted down. The party was emptying out. Julia must have left to go home by now, and he should probably do the same soon.
“Come on. Tell me about the girl. What was her name?”
“Her name,” Dave said, looking down at the open book in his lap, “was Section 16520 of the Family Code.”
“Interesting name.”
“Swedish,” Dave explained.
Gretchen beamed a smile at him and gave him a head nod to continue. With a quick, appreciative thought for the Nevers list he’d found stuck in his locker, Dave continued his story.
o o o
When Dave walked out of the Kapoor house, it was past three in the morning. Tiredness was starting to dull the edges around the thrill of the night, a faint headache building up as payback for all that beer. He was so ready to go to bed that he almost missed Julia sitting on the curb in front of the house, her head on her knees, arms curled around herself. He leaned over and could hear her softly breathing, asleep.
“Julia,” he said, putting an arm on her shoulder. When she stirred, eyes darting, confused, he asked her how long she’d been waiting for him.
“I don’t know. An hour, maybe. Where the hell did you run off to?”
“Nowhere. I was in the den downstairs.”
“You weren’t answering my calls.” She put her hands on either side of her and stretched her back out. “What gives?”
“My phone died, sorry.”
“Fuck, Dave, you couldn’t have come to tell me that?”
“I tried.” He stuck his hands in his pockets, not knowing what else to do with them. He hated making her upset. “I couldn’t find you anywhere, so I thought you’d left.”
“Without you? Please.” She yawned. “You know you’re an awful human being for letting your phone run out of battery. Come on, David Montgomery Burns, it’s the twenty-first century. Stay plugged in. You made your friend worry.”
“Why didn’t you go home?”
“Again. Without you?” She let out a groan and then reached her hand out. “Help me up, you forsaken supposed friend.”
“I’m sorry,” Dave said, pulling her up gently. “I feel like shit.”
“Good. Wallow in that for a second.”
They started walking down the middle of the road, the streetlights casting hazy shadows. Earlier in the night, it had felt so bizarre to be walking toward a party. Now the fog was starting to roll in and the trees looked beautiful. Julia’s arms were crossed in front of her chest, her jaw tense. He tried to read her silence, just how angry she was at him. But the booze was interfering, making his mind return to the wonders of street lighting at three a.m. Feeling guilty, Dave cast his eyes down at his shoes.
“Well, don’t look so freakin’ glum,” Julia said, rolling her eyes when he looked up. “Come on, let’s go have coffee at the diner.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” Julia said. “If you buy me a slice of pie, all is forgiven. We still have to exchange stories from the night.”
Dave thought of Gretchen, the strange appeal of those crooked teeth. It felt weird to bring her up, though; he’d never talked to Julia about girls. She’d talked to him about the few guys she’d fleetingly dated, and had on occasion tried to pry out from him some admittance of a crush on anyone. But for obvious reasons he’d always said there was no one he was interested in. Bringing it up now felt somehow wrong. Plus “a girl and I talked for a while” was not much of a story, so the next thing that came to mind was the flip-cup tournament. He chuckled to himself, though a distinct feeling of shame goose-bumped up his arms. “Embarrassing is good, right? We were here to fit in in an almost gross way?”
“Oh God, what’d you do?”
“Let’s say I really embraced the spirit of the Kapoor party.”
“Eww, Dave, did you buy a polo shirt? I’m going to have to cut you out of my life, aren’t I?”
Dave put his hands in his pockets, turning the corner toward the street where the diner stood, lit up against all the darkened storefronts. “I don’t think I’m ready for that,” Dave said, adding a chuckle.
