“I made you blush!” She set down the tray of unbaked cupcakes and came over to where he stood by the sink, wrapping him up in a hug, her face pressed against his back. “No hit man blushes when he gets called nice.”
“You don’t know that... .” Dave said, the water from the faucet momentarily forgotten, little lumps of flour and sugar clinging to the lips of the bowls. He wondered why it was that his mind kept going to whichever girl was not with him.
Once they’d packed the cupcakes into a baking tray covered in foil, they climbed into Julia’s car and headed to Marroney’s house. For the first time in his life, he felt like driving. But there was too much to explain in asking Julia if he could drive, since they’d forgotten to recount their weekends. Or maybe he hadn’t so much forgotten as chosen not to bring it up. He still didn’t know how to explain to Julia what was happening between him and Gretchen. It was unknown territory, dreams meeting reality but with a different set of characters, and so he didn’t even know how to explain it to himself.
Which isn’t to say he didn’t try. “You remember Gretchen,” Dave said, knowing immediately that the non sequitur would sound weird. Julia was driving, following her phone’s GPS directions. “I saw her this weekend. Slash ran into her. Though not literally ran into her. There were plans involved, I guess I should say.”
“Cool beans. Keep working that popularity angle. I think even numbers are on your side,” Julia said, clearly too wrapped up in turn-by-turn instructions to tune into Dave’s rambling.
“Do I want to know how you got his address?” Dave asked, happy to divert the conversation elsewhere. “I kind of feel like asking just to find out a new euphemism for stalking.”
“Oh, no euphemisms this time,” Julia said, turning down a street and looking at the house numbers. “Just flat-out stalking.”
Dave had thought she was kidding about dressing in black, but she was in full stalking regalia, the only parts of her that would be visible in the dark were her bare feet and hands, the pink hair poking out the side of her hoodie. “All right, so, what’s the plan here?”
“The plan? We walk up to the front door, ring the doorbell, and hand him the cupcakes.” Julia parked the car in front of a nondescript house, the kind that half of San Luis Obispo residents lived in: single story, white garage door, perfectly triangular roof like the kind children always drew in pictures.
“So what’s with the ninja outfit?”
Julia looked down at her attire, as if noticing it for the first time. “Oh. Right. I don’t know. I guess I’m just in stalker mode.”
Dave laughed, and out of habit put his hand on her head and shook lightly, trying to determine if he could do this one gesture of affection he had with her and separate it from the feelings he no longer wanted to have. “I worry about you,” he said, pulling his hand away and unbuckling his seat belt. “So, am I coming with?”
Exactly half of him wanted her to say no, so he could avoid getting sucked up in her craziness, wonderful though it may be. Three text messages to and from Gretchen. He could stay in the car and text Gretchen back and forth for a while until Julia came back. That was exactly what he should do.
“Yeah, I need you for moral support. But if things are going well I may need you to run to the drugstore to buy condoms.”
“That’s it. I’m throwing up.”
“I’m kidding,” Julia said with a grin. “I’ll want to work up to that. Tonight we’ll just make out and cuddle.” She poked his stomach, then took off her hoodie, revealing a gray tank top with a band logo on it. And, of course, she looked fantastic, and of course, at that same moment his phone buzzed in his pocket, undoubtedly a text from Gretchen.