Never Always Sometimes

by Adi Alsaid

  “Wait, Julia. Before you go?”

  “What?”

  Brett started to say something, then ran the back of his hand across his forehead, his forearm coming away slick with sweat. He smiled wide, then stared at the ground, a move that felt strangely Dave-like. “You’re really freaking good at this.”

  THE FOURTH ROSE

  “Dave? How’s it going over there?”

  “The second string is in place, and Gretchen’s about to finish her ice cream.”

  “Damn.” Julia was watching a YouTube clip of how to draw a rose petal made out of frosting for the fiftieth time. She’d messed up eleven times already and only one cupcake remained, which was to be the sixth rose. Where the hell was Chef Mike when she needed him? Gretchen would follow the new string to the library, where it would lead her to a rose tucked in between her two favorite books. Julia didn’t have much more time. “You didn’t tell me she was a fast ice-cream eater.”

  “I had no idea.”

  “David Moneybags Gutierrez, how are you dating someone without knowing how fast they eat their ice cream?”

  “Ha! You used my actual last name.”

  “This frosting thing is impossible,” Julia said. “Pastry chefs are severely underpaid.”

  “She’s done. I gotta go.”

  THE FIFTH ROSE

  It’d been a hard rose to leave behind, and Julia kind of hated that it had been up to her to do it. Dave had chosen the first place he and Gretchen had kissed as a spot, and since that had happened at Julia’s house, it only made sense for her to be the one to do it. After she had finally succeeded in drawing a rose made out of freaking sugar on a cupcake, she went downstairs and set up the string. She tied it to her mailbox and then took it around the side of her house toward the backyard. Dave had walked around a few days before, looking at the lawn, trying to remember exactly where it had happened, and Julia had felt like screaming that she didn’t want to know, begging to be spared the details. Now she tied the string to the stem of the rose and stuck it in the grass. Inside the mailbox, she left Dave’s note. Hopefully it would take Gretchen long enough to find so Julia could get the cupcake to the next location.

  THE SIXTH ROSE

  Julia made it back to school, where Gretchen’s car was one of the only ones still in the lot. Marroney’s car was still there, and for a crazy moment she considered leaving him a note, just for fun, just to let him know she wasn’t completely over him. Instead, she left the cupcake on the hood of Gretchen’s car, with the next clue tucked into the windshield wiper. It’d be so easy to leave it a little too close to the edge of the rubber, where the wind would blow it away and put a stop to the whole thing. Then her phone chimed. In position. Again. Have I mentioned this is ridiculous? You are a mastermind.

  Julia smiled. We*, she wrote back.

  THE SEVENTH ROSE

  The rose hanging from the top post of the goal felt too cheesy even for the promposal, but Julia made sure it was centered and that the knot was nice and tight. Attached to it was a treasure map that would lead Gretchen on a very specific route to the next rose. It was a gorgeous day, the breeze just as Julia liked it, the sun just as she liked it, the sky so blue it was as if someone had gathered a week’s worth of skies and jammed them all together. Love was people creating memories for each other, and Julia knew that today would be memorable not just for Dave and Gretchen.

  THE EIGHTH ROSE

  Courtesy of one of Brett’s friends, a beautiful rose was graffitied on the side of the abandoned warehouse near the highway. Black and white and every imaginable shade of gray, the clue in Dave’s handwriting beside it. Too nervous to do it during the day, Dave had done it at two in the morning, and Julia could picture the stain of black paint on his index finger, Brett making fun of Dave for being nervous. She could almost picture Dave starting and stopping, looking over his shoulder. She wished she had gone with them. She drove past the warehouse just to take a look at it again when another phone call came through.

  THE NINTH ROSE

  It’d been strangely easy to find an a cappella group on such short notice. The Internet did wonderful things. “La Vie en Rose” was even in their repertoire, and they were open to the idea of performing just one song, at a stoplight in the middle of town, for an audience of one.

  THE TENTH ROSE

  Julia had really pushed for skywriting or fireworks on this one. Dave could argue all he wanted, Julia couldn’t see anything else that would match the over-the-top glory of roses in the sky. In the end, logistics had put a stop to the discussion. The alternative wasn’t half-bad: Evan Royster, a junior, had recently been written up in the local newspaper for his “fire art,” elaborate drawings of lighter fluid that blazed for a few minutes before disappearing forever.

  He was dressed in the bear suit, waiting with his lighter in the far corner of the mall’s parking lot where Dave and Gretchen had gone GPS-drawing.

  THE ELEVENTH ROSE

  Julia could not believe their luck when they went to the costume shop to find the bear suit and they’d found a giant rose costume.

  “You know that’s going to be you inside, right?”

  “Absolutely,” Dave said, already grabbing it off the rack. “I can’t believe rose costumes exist.”

  “Never underestimate people’s cheesiness,” Julia said, poking Dave in the stomach, wishing it would elicit his usual head-shaking response.

  THE TWELFTH ROSE

  Julia arrived at the harbor right as Dave texted her that he was about to meet up with Gretchen at the mall. Julia’s Mazda was parked in the harbor’s lot. The orchestra kids were set up in a semicircle around the car. They were in their little band tuxedos, practicing their sections. The sun had already dipped behind the ocean, and twilight was growing darker.

  “They’re on their way!” Julia cried out, and the orchestra fell quiet. “Remember, start playing once she sees the car, and crescendo right before they kiss.”

  “How will we know when they’re going to kiss?” one of the violinists called out.

  “Seriously? Have you never seen two people kissing?”

  “I don’t know...” the shy voice said, trailing off in a way that made Julia feel bad.

  “Just. You know. Take a guess. When their faces are about to touch would be a good time.” She looked around for Brett. “Did you get a confetti shooter?”

  “Get the fuck out of here.”

  “I’m kidding. You have the rose petals?”

  “Right here.” He pointed at two buckets on either side of the car, filled to the brim.

  “Perfect. You get one; I’ll get the other. Wait until they kiss.”

  They stood at opposite sides of the car, looking out in the direction of the mall. The band kids were quiet, too, used to remaining silent until their cue. For a long time, Julia could only see the lights of the mall, the faint green of trees that lined the road to it from the harbor. She could hear the ocean, and the sound of cars on the highway. Her knuckles hurt from how hard she was gripping the bucket, and for a second she closed her eyes and wished for this whole thing to fail, for Gretchen to admit that she was not interested in Dave in the least, that she’d been faking it, just like Julia and Dave had faked their way through most of the Nevers.

  Then Dave and Gretchen stepped out from the shadows, smiles plastered on both of their faces. Julia turned and motioned for the orchestra to begin playing. Even Julia couldn’t help but smile as the couple came closer. She could see exactly when Gretchen read the writing on Julia’s car, and she hoped that the happiness in her eyes was real, because that’s what Dave deserved.

  “Ha!” Gretchen cried out, beaming at the sound of the string section getting louder. “Guns N’ Roses!” She turned to face Dave and threw her arms around his neck. “You are insane. A crazy rose serenading me with clichés.”

 
“I had help.” Dave shrugged, glancing at Julia, tearing her heart apart just like that, then wrapping his arms around Gretchen’s waist. “Is that a yes?”

  “I would have said yes at the first rose.”

  As the music crescendoed, Julia threw fistfuls of shredded rose petals into the air, using the shower of red and white as an excuse to avert her eyes. This was how she could love Dave. From exactly this distance. Within sight but apart. Cheering him on, providing whatever happiness she could provide for him. As his best friend.

  ROAD TRIPPOSAL

  HOMEROOM, AS USUAL, was more or less a shit show. Ms. Romero was checking her Facebook when Julia walked in with her tardy slip in hand. Dave was on his feet with a smile on his face, chatting with Jenny Owens and that guy that always smelled like cheese. Julia waved and kept her earbuds in, but Dave still sidestepped backpacks and chairs to come over and give her a wordless high five before returning to whatever conversation he was having.

  Julia laid her head on her desk, trying to sleep but mostly watching Dave. She hadn’t managed to fall asleep the night before. At first it’d been the adrenaline of executing the plan so well. But even after her eyelids felt swollen with tiredness, her mind was a flurry of thoughts. Nothing too obvious like being heartbroken. More like a bunch of little things, debris caught in a tree after a storm. What her mom was like in high school, whether she would have done something as cliché as love her best friend silently, whether she was finally going to come. Whether anyone would ever know about all the Nevers, or if in a few months her college friends would have no idea that this period of her life had ever existed. She wondered if there was some sort of expiration date to her friendship with Dave as she knew it, if it was possible that it had already passed.

  The bell rang out and everyone gathered their belongings and took their conversations to the hallways, where girls were taking selfies and a couple of jock types were throwing granola bars at each other, picking them up only to reload and shoot again. When the game lost its fun, they left the crumbled remains on the ground like spent ammunition. Julia followed Dave and they wordlessly tossed the mess in the trash. Then they went to his locker, where he replaced one of the binders in his backpack with a different binder that was hidden under piles of loose-leaf paper.

  “Hey, I’ve got a surprise for you.”

  “Thanks for softening the blow by announcing that a surprise will be coming.”

  “Why do I even talk to you in the mornings?”

  “Because despite your new position as the center of attention, you still crave the intimacy of someone who really gets you, and only I fill that role?”

  “Deep.”

  Julia laid her head against the row of lockers. “These should be lined with pillows.”

  Dave rummaged through his binder, flipping through plastic folders and dividers covered in pencil-scratched band names and lyrics. After what felt like a long time, he pulled out a sheet of paper, handing it to her.

  “What’s this?”

  “Neko Case is playing tonight. I know San Francisco isn’t exactly a life-changing trip, but we’re gonna make it feel as epic as possible.”

  His words didn’t really sink in right away, nor did her eyes focus on the page. It was a printout receipt for concert tickets in San Francisco. For eight o’clock that night. “It’s a thank-you. For the promposal and how awesome you were.”

  “Dave. These are Neko Case tickets.”

  “We leave right after school. I had exactly enough money left over to buy the tickets, so you’re paying for gas.”

  “These are Neko Case tickets for tonight.”

  “Did you have a stroke or something?” He laughed.

  “What did you tell Gretchen?”

  Dave furrowed his brow, a confused smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “About tonight? That I’m taking my best friend on a Nevers road trip. What else would I say? She says you’re a genius for planning yesterday.”

  “Oh.” Julia was still holding the printout in her hand. “Well, this is pretty cool, then.”

  “Understatement foul. I know it’s not cross-country or Holy Grail epic, but we’ll make it as epic as possible. We’ll blast music and pick up hitchhikers and have epiphanies. If they don’t come naturally, we’ll find a bunch of peyote and wander the desert. We might have to find a desert. Plus, check this out.” He stowed the binder back into his bag and reached into his pocket.

  “You have a driver’s license?”

  “Yeah, Gretchen took me over the weekend.”

  Julia grabbed the license out of his hand, just to get Gretchen’s name out of the conversation. “You look like a murderer.”

  “Isn’t that the point of picture IDs? That way if you become a murderer they can flash your picture on the news and everyone will be like, ‘Yup, that guy totally kills people.’”

  “How did you even get your eyes to do that?”

  “I’d love to take all the credit, but that, dear friend, was good fortune smiling down upon me.” She handed him back his license and he shut his locker. “As I am the official driver of our Nevers-breaking road trip, I’m bestowing upon you the role of Snack Master. I know you’ll take your duties seriously.”

  “Prunes and warm milk, got it,” Julia said, more out of a habit to always keep the joke going than anything. They were at the hallway where they would split in different directions until lunch.

  “I’m thinking we’ll take the One the whole way there, and after the concert we’ll have late-night Thai food somewhere in the city. Maybe even do a bit of stargazing on one of those little beaches on the way back? If the fog isn’t too bad. We’ll pull an all-nighter, make it back to school in the morning exhausted and hating life. It’ll be great. You’ve always wanted to see Neko live.”

  “Yeah,” Julia said. “I have.”

  “If you’re nice, we can even play the boxers or briefs game.”

  “That sounds sketchy. What’s the boxers or briefs game?”

  “That’s where the passenger holds up a paper to cars passing by that tells them to honk once if they’re wearing briefs and twice if they’re wearing boxers. If they don’t honk, you assume they’re free as a bird.”

  “Gross.”

  “It’s important sociological research, Julia. It’s supposed to be gross.”

  o o o

  Julia and Dave stood in front of her car in the parking lot. Her once-white car was now everything but white. Markers in every color of the rainbow had been used to ask Gretchen out to prom, most of them not the washable kind. Julia had been more than okay with that, wanting to go all out. Now, in the light of the afternoon, knowing she’d be driving somewhere other than the SLO High parking lot, something inside her cringed.

  “I think I was hoping this would disappear overnight,” Julia said, arms crossed in front of her.

  “No such luck. Now quit stalling and hand me the keys.”

  “You’re serious about this? I thought that license you showed me was a fake. Are men even allowed to drive?”

  “The times they are a-changin’.” Dave stuck his hand out.

  “This feels so weird.” She placed the keys in his hand but refused to let go. “My whole world is falling apart. Up is down, black is white, the Cretaceous period came before the Jurassic era.”

  “That was so nerdy.”

  “David Goffrey Pickleback, you’re really downplaying how big of a moment this is for me. I feel the very fabric of reality unwinding.” Julia could feel the warmth of his palm beneath the keys, and it was strange what a specific desire she suddenly felt to have him wrap his fingers around hers.

  “An entire list’s worth of activities we would never have thought to do in a million years, sure, why not? But letting your best friend of over four years drive, and you start having a pani
c attack?”

  “You say that like it’s unreasonable!”

  Dave laughed and snatched the keys fully away from her grip. “You goof. Get in the car. I promise things will be exactly as they’ve always been.”

  First, they went to a gas station and loaded up on snacks, lowered the top on the Miata and headed for the coast. They began the road trip like all road trips should begin, with music blaring, hearts pumping. Julia stuck her hand out the window and made those stupid waves in the air that people were always doing in car commercials, admitting out loud that it actually felt really great. She removed her hair tie so that her hair flurried in the wind, and she leaned in toward Dave so that the pink strands would sting his face, too. “You’re going to kill us!” he cried out over the music as the wind rushed all around.

  She immediately switched the song over to The Smiths’ “There Is a Light That Never Goes Out,” singing along to the chorus directly in Dave’s face.

  To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die.

  “Are we going to play clichéd music the whole way there?”

  “You call The Smiths clichéd one more time and I’m going to put this song on repeat, then run us off the cliff so that people think we died in some teenage suicide death pact. Then everyone at school will be sad and they’ll do a big teary gesture by making you win prom king, then you’ll be that guy that gets memorialized by a candlelight vigil by people who didn’t know him all that well. You’ll get voted into the cliché hall of fame.”

  “I would throw up inside my grave.”

  “You have a very poor grasp on the science of death.”

  Dave laughed and grabbed her head again, pushing her gently away from him. She wouldn’t have minded if his hand never left, if it somehow slipped down to her bare shoulder, to her fingers. It was an absolutely gorgeous drive up the shore and into Big Sur, where the slow and winding roads among redwoods and cliffs changed the mood in the car from blasting music to something mellower. They switched over to Neko Case to prepare for the concert. There was not a trace of fog, so the ocean shimmered brightly for much of the ride. Dave borrowed a pair of old sunglasses Julia kept in her car, and he looked cute in them, though Julia bit her tongue to keep from saying so.