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the taste of Gretchen’s kiss still on his lips, a warmth inside him that loomed much larger than the buzzed, in-love-with-the-world feeling from the Kapoor party. That had been a flame, and this was a fire.
he was still recalling how he’d kissed Gretchen good night at the front door before she left, the smile on her face—Julia
“What were you saying about Gretchen?” “Nothing. I just think she’s cool,” Dave said, suddenly feeling tired. “Cool as a cardboard cutout.” Julia chuckled. Dave hid the scowl that he could feel forming by fiddling with the trash bag in his hand. Julia was drunk; he should take what she was saying with a grain of salt.
“Gretchen and I...” Dave started. “I’ve seen her a couple of times outside of school now, and I really like her. A lot. I thought you should know.” Julia was quiet for a few moments, her back to him, finishing her glass of water. She turned around slowly, smirking. “Oh, Dave, seriously? I mean, I know we’re embracing clichés, but Gretchen Powers?”
“There’s more to her than meets the eye,” Dave said quietly. “There’s more to most of these people than you realize; you’re just too busy making fun of everyone to see it.”
What’s so great about this girl that you’ll stand up for student council on her behalf?”
“Just stop, Julia. I’m trying to tell you for the first time in our friendship that I’m into someone.”
He tensed his fingers into a fist. It was so unfair. He’d loved Julia for so long, and he’d always managed to be happy for her when she was with other guys, however fleetingly. And now that he finally liked someone else, she couldn’t return that simple favor.
“You think forcing yourself—forcing us—to become outsiders makes us unique? It doesn’t. Rebellious teenage girl swims against the current? You know what that sounds like to me? You’re a cliché, Julia.”
But when her face crumpled up, when the hurt rippled across that beautiful face he’d all but memorized, Dave wished that there was some way to undo it all, to skip back a few chapters and rewrite the scene, find a different way to approach the subject, of Gretchen, some way to make Julia understand.
He didn’t dare to move. It felt like they were in some other universe, and if he left her house, the real world wouldn’t ever come back. He feared that leaving would make this permanent, but he didn’t know how to do anything but stand there. He wondered how he could be so mad at her now, how things could take such a turn so quickly. Julia said again, “Get out,” like she was already writing it into their history. So he left.
HOW JULIA HAD felt something so deeply for so long without knowing it herself was a mystery. As if love was a fugitive harboring in an attic, hidden even from the people residing in the house. Dave liked Gretchen? Well, Julia loved him. She loved him. If it didn’t hurt so much, she might have marveled at the way the mind/heart/psyche/whatever worked. How she’d known without a doubt that she was in love with Dave and had been for a very long time only when he told her he’d kissed someone else. How the words I love you had popped into her head so loud and so clear that she’d wondered if she’d
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She thought of this newly discovered love for Dave, her awful, stupid timing in realizing it, and then her anger basically did all the work for her. Breaking glass looked beautiful in the hazy light of drunkenness. The crash scared the couple making out in the backyard and they scurried away. Julia felt a savage pleasure in interrupting them.
She pictured Dave—her Dave, the funniest guy she knew, her best friend, the only person she could even imagine spending her days with—side by side with cookie-cutter Gretchen and her perfect blond waves and Julia broke into laughter so uncontrollable she had to lie down and let it tear through her. She ripped out a patch of grass and ripped the blades to shreds, throwing them in the air like confetti. As the bits of green rained down on her, she thought about waking up the guy on the couch and kissing him as an act of revenge, but she settled on going to the kitchen and finding more beer.
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Why did her hand hurt? And why hadn’t Dave slept over, sprawled out next to her bed in that musky sleeping bag like he usually did?
The memory of a fight with Dave appeared suddenly, her on the verge of tears after he’d left. Wait. Had she drunkenly decided that she was in love with Dave? Julia almost laughed in the middle of her dad’s tirade. Of all the stupid ideas people get when under the influence; Julia shook her head at the thought. It couldn’t have actually happened. And even if it did, Julia would plead temporary beer-induced insanity. But it didn’t happen.
Julia strained to remember more about the end of the night, and what had happened with Dave. She hoped she hadn’t done anything as embarrassing as tell Dave she loved him.
Another piece of the night came to her: an image of her yelling at Dave. Something to do with that soccer-playing blonde he’d been chummy with all night.
Whatever she’d said to Dave, he would forgive her. Whatever had taken them apart at the end of the party would be forgotten.
But if they didn’t talk, it was usually Julia’s fault, and radio silence from Dave made Julia realize that maybe their fight had been worse than she remembered.
Her phone was full of pictures of the mayhem so she could show Dave.
She remembered his confession now, the fact that he liked Gretchen, though she still didn’t know quite what to make of the two of them being together. Whatever she thought of Gretchen, though, she had to go apologize. For the fight, and whatever it was she may have said. Her friendship with Dave hadn’t changed in four years, and it wasn’t about to now. The first thing she was going to do was find Dave and tell him that she was happy for him, no matter who his little love interest was. She definitely wasn’t going to phrase it like that, though.
Dave looked so great in the morning. She wondered how he did that, how he always seemed ready for the day as soon as it arrived. Maybe it had something to do with sleep cycles, or it was just the softness of the morning light that worked with his features. He was probably having completely normal thoughts, and here she was trying to figure out why her best friend looked good in the morning.
“Are we going to talk about the other night?” Dave said. “God, yes, please. Sorry I didn’t text. The dads had me spit-shine the whole house, which I probably deserved. Also, sorry about our fight. I guess I was a little drunk. I remember you telling me about Gretchen and that’s about it. Was I a bitch about it?” Dave smiled in that cute, sheepish way he often did and shrugged. “Maybe a little bit.” “Well, that sucks.” Julia stepped out of her shoes, feeling the comfort of the floor on her bare feet. “Whatever I said, I’m sorry I said it. Did you yell back at me?” “There was some yelling.”
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feeling that peculiar urge to poke him. But when her finger touched his stomach, it didn’t just pull away like it always did. It lingered there as if it had its own agenda, and Julia had to take a step backward to keep from making the moment awkward. What the hell was going on with her?
That she was having strange thoughts and buzzing at his touch could be chalked up to it still being so early in the morning. Cringing when she thought of Gretchen, that was just because of what she knew about Gretchen, nothing to do with Dave liking her. Maybe the buzzing was just relief that everything was still right between Julia and Dave, relief that her ominous recollection of their fight had been a case of overworrying. This was all normal.
Julia had always loved this moment, the slow, watchful approach before Dave saw her. Now there was a head of blond waves next to him, and Julia could hear them laughing. The sound actually slowed her down. She felt like she was about to interrupt, which was bullshit. This was Julia’s bench to share with Dave. If anyone should feel like she was interrupting, it was Gretchen. This was not normal. Gretchen being there, and Julia’s reaction to it.
Julia smiled and went to Dave’s side of the bench, scooting him toward the middle, feeling bittersweet that he’d be closer to both her and Gretchen.
Gretchen said, her voice giving away her desire to laugh, and damn if Julia didn’t find that charming. Julia suddenly felt nauseous. Gretchen stood up, pulling out a set of car keys from the pocket of her jeans.
They were similarly built, Julia noticed. Almost the exact same height, though Julia wasn’t wearing shoes, and Gretchen’s hair gave her an extra quarter inch. Julia had no idea why that would matter, why she would suddenly start measuring herself against this girl who was nothing like her.
Julia watched as she reached over and grabbed Dave by the wrist, pulling him up to his feet, her fingers lingering on his skin like they were used to touching him, like they belonged on him.
Julia discovered backseats are a kind of hell when you are there on your own. She’d sat behind Gretchen, giving her a clear view of Dave and how often he looked toward the driver’s side. She could barely hear the conversation, and had to stick her face in between theirs to not feel like she was on a deserted island.
Dave glanced over his shoulder at Julia, giving her a smile that she understood immediately: Isn’t she so much more than you thought? Julia stuck her tongue out at Dave, the move feeling too middle school even as she did it, like a girl desperate to be cute.
Julia was starting to like Gretchen, and it shouldn’t have been a problem. It should have been great, all the more reason to be happy for Dave. But it was a problem, one that caused her throat to dry up.
She looked over at Dave peering into the dog’s cage and felt the urge to throw her arms around his neck, which was silly.
“If I’d known puppy-holding was involved in mall-ratting I might have been more receptive,” she said, taking the dog in her arms. “Just you wait,” Gretchen said, stepping up to Julia. “This might feel weird at first. Just trust me.” She reached out and dipped the ice-cream cone against Julia’s nose. “What the hell?” Julia forced a laugh. Dave stood behind Gretchen, his head tilted. Gretchen just smiled, and within a second or two the mutt had sniffed out the ice cream and was licking Julia’s nose enthusiastically. Julia laughed, which resulted in the dog trying to slip her some tongue, so she
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He stepped out of the dressing room, looking uncomfortable in his clothes, but undoubtedly handsome. Julia paused, swirling that thought around her head like a beverage she was savoring. Dave was handsome. That wasn’t new information to her; she’d always thought it strange that a great guy like him with his looks had never pursued anyone, had never even accidentally stumbled into a fleeting romance. But had Julia ever thought it in those terms before?
Julia had a quick flash of what this could turn into: her and Gretchen becoming friends, Dave and Gretchen touching more and more, little stolen glances between them that Julia wouldn’t be able to avoid intercepting. Julia would be the third wheel in a friendship that had never needed more than two people.
What the fuck was going on? Ridiculing others was her usual coping mechanism, not this mad jealousy. If anything, Julia had expected to make fun of Gretchen today. She thought back to the night of the party, how it had felt when she’d started tearing apart her house. She’d been lying on the grass, telling herself she was in love with Dave. And drunk as she may have been, maybe it was true. Maybe she was in love with Dave.
She went up to the sink and splashed some water on her face, letting it drip-dry as she shook her head at the little mantra now running through her head, taking root. No, Julia told herself. It’s not true. When she’d managed to convince herself, Julia returned to the dressing area and saw Gretchen and Dave standing close to each other, their fingers interlaced. Julia stared at the sight for a while, scrunching her mouth over to one corner. Fuck. It was true. She was in love with Dave.
Yeah, she loved Dave. And life had gotten a little bit suckier since the realization sunk in. But in many ways, things were still exactly the same. Sure, every now and then she’d buy a bag of chips just to stomp on it and watch the crumbs explode out. But that was kind of a cool thing that she could envision herself doing for the rest of her life, even when ecstatic and in mutual love with some unknown, future person. Everything else was normal. Dave was her best friend. She was his best friend. Nothing had changed.
It was weird that Dave could drive now, because Dave never drove. Aside from that, the bag of chips thing, and the occasional passing bout of sadness or desire to punch Gretchen, Julia was dealing with it pretty damn well.
She kept her earbuds in as he made his way toward her, trying not to think of the light in his eyes, trying not to look at his hands. When he started speaking she couldn’t hear a word of it. Then he plucked out the earbuds.
“I’m gonna ask Gretchen to prom and I need your help to make it as over-the-top as possible.” “Oh, right, you and Gretchen.” Dave laughed. “Who’d you think I was talking about?”
Prom was supposed to be the last item crossed off the list, never date your best friend, and maybe it was dumb, but Julia hadn’t really thought about how Gretchen would affect that.
Julia loved this so much that she’d managed to ignore the fact that everything they were planning was for Gretchen. She got to be with Dave, sit with him, laugh, touch his wrist like she meant nothing by it. Moments like these could carry her until it was no longer necessary.
She could love him just like this. It was enough for her, to be this close.
You’re Dave the tree house builder, boyfriend of cute soccer girl with the blond waves. People at the school would give up their firstborns for you.”
Dave laughed and looked off into the distance, his mind clearly on Gretchen, on how the night he was planning for her would play out. Julia grabbed the pen they’d been using and squeezed in the word orchestra in between two lines, then drew an arrow to show when the music would start to play, right after Gretchen saw Julia’s car, right before the kiss. Never pine silently, she thought to herself and smiled, because she was doing exactly what they were supposed to be doing. Not doing. Sometimes doing.
She could do this the whole day, plan something out with him, pretend that, like the snow fort they’d designed freshman year, it would never come to fruition. It was just her and Dave at the pizza place. No matter how many families crowded nearby, how many kids from school waved to them from other tables, no matter how many times Gretchen’s name was scrawled on the sheet of paper in front of them, it was just her and Dave, like it always had been.
