“I think you bring it out of me,” Gretchen said with a shrug, pushing the Tupperware in his direction to offer him a piece. He reached his fingers in for a piece of pineapple, feeling a little cheesy in longing for their hands to brush against each other.
When the bell rang and lunch was over, Dave and Gretchen separated themselves from the group. It happened almost magnetically, the two of them drifting off from the rest, keeping pace only with each other.
“So,” Gretchen said, hoisting a binder to her chest the way nerdy kids in movies did, “you built a tree house.”
“I had some help.” Dave shrugged.
“Still, pretty cool. Was it your idea?”
“Inspired by a desire for us to have our own lunch spot,” he said, aware that he’d purposely avoided saying Julia’s name but not sure why. “But yes, my idea.”
“I wonder what your grandkids will feel when they read about you in history books.”
“An immense and prideful love, obviously.”
They walked down the tree house stairs slowly, in no rush to make it to class before the bell rang. Other kids gathered their belongings and prepared for that last, brutal stretch of classes before the day broke free. Some were looking in Dave’s direction, smiling, or whispering, or just staring for a moment before walking away. Dave wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to eyes turning to look at him, but it no longer felt like it had never happened before.
When they reached the building, Dave put his hand on the door to open it for Gretchen, but hesitated for a second. He met her eyes and the words simply escaped him in a way he didn’t fully understand, like the drops of rain suddenly becoming too heavy and breaking free from a cloud after staying together for so long. “Do you want to see my favorite bench in the world?”
Gretchen smiled but said nothing for a second, as if she wanted the words to soak in. Nicky Marquez passed between the two of them, looking at his phone and unaware of what he was stepping through. When he opened the door, Dave’s eyes glanced into the hallway, and he saw Julia rubbing the sleep from her eyes, walking his direction. “Let’s go, David Bro Bronofsky. Two more classes and then we’re free.”
“Friday,” Dave added quietly. “We’ll have some coffee on my favorite bench in the world.”
“Yes,” Gretchen said, nodding. “I’d like that.”
DATE
DAVE CHECKED HIS phone and slid it back in his pocket for the tenth time in the last thirty seconds or so. He was sitting on his bench at Morro Bay, trying to avoid looking around frantically for any sight of Gretchen. When she showed up, he wanted her to see him first, sitting calmly with his legs stretched out in front of him, his hands folded on his stomach, a content smile on his face that showed he saw joy in the world, even on this unusually gray day.
Though he was certainly happy, the problem was that Dave’s relaxed pose melted away almost as soon as he’d settled into it. His hands would go to his phone to see if she had canceled. He’d hunch over and look at his feet nervously, check his shirt for stains.
This was a date. Maybe. His first ever, and in a place that he associated with Julia. It was her he usually looked for from this spot, those blue eyes across the distance, her bare feet. But today Julia was on her way to a wedding with her dads, and Dave was looking for Gretchen’s blond waves and scuffed sneakers. Once that thought crossed his mind, he’d lean back into the bench, take a deep breath, put on a slight smile, only to have it quickly fall away again, his hand going to the back of his neck, or wiping at his forehead, the sweat dripping freely now that he had no hair. If anyone was watching, they’d probably think he was schizophrenic. Having dreamed all his life of romantic love did not make him any good at first dates.