They were in Julia’s backyard, the three kegs set strategically in three different corners to spread out the crowd. Dave was lounging in the grass, trying to get a nap in before the party started. He hadn’t been sleeping all week. Every time he was about to nod off, the thought of not kissing Gretchen popped in his head, as insistent as a mosquito buzzing past his ear. He’d texted Gretchen the next morning about what a great time he’d had, and they still sat together in Chem when they could, and walked in the halls together whenever he wasn’t walking with Julia. But he hadn’t touched her since Tuesday night, hadn’t even brushed her knee with his. The lack of a kiss lingered like a sore muscle.
It was a hot day. Dave looked up at the clouds and watched the smallest white wisps evaporate before his eyes, little by little. His lower back was sweaty, his T-shirt sticking to him and making the grass beneath him itchy. His cell phone was resting on his stomach. He felt like a failure, like someone who would never experience love because he couldn’t bring himself to do anything about it. A mopey thought, sure, but it felt true.
“Dave, come help me get stuff ready inside. I need to hide all the dads’ valuables.”
“But I’m sleepy,” Dave said, trying to sink further into the grass. “I’ll need all my energy to schmooze with the crowd tonight.”
“You’ve been a zombie all week,” Julia said, handing Brett the money for the kegs. “Fine, sleep. But I’m waking you up an hour before the party so we can have you fitted for your prom king sash and tiara.”
“You know so little about prom,” Brett said, taking a seat on the patio furniture and pulling a cigarette from his shirt pocket.
“You know so little about humor,” Julia said grabbing his cigarette and tossing it in the bushes. “And that’s gross.”
“You’re gonna have so much more gross than that to clean up.”
Julia sighed and called Brett a jerk, then the two of them disappeared into the house, teasing each other. Dave still had the urge to watch her leave. He checked his cell phone, as if a message might show up at any moment that could change everything for him, Gretchen telling him she was going to take matters into her own hands. Or maybe something from his dad, some little nugget of wisdom he’d kept to himself until now, knowing Dave needed it. But his phone showed nothing but the time, and Dave set it back down on his stomach, not surprised.
o o o
At seven Julia walked over to Dave and squatted by him, flicking the tip of his nose. “I’m awake,” he said.
“Yes. And I am flicking your nose. Shall we continue to update one another on our activities?”
“As long as you promise to exclude any Marroney-related updates,” Dave said, taking off the sunglasses he’d been wearing.
“Deal,” she said. “I’m gonna go shower. I left out a towel for you in case you want to use the dads’ bathroom to shower, too.” She flicked his nose again. “You ready to celebrate your unlikeliest of victories?”
“I was conceived ready.”
She stood up and looked around the yard as if assessing it, then turned toward the house. “If anyone shows up while I’m upstairs, tell them they’re unfashionably early and then mock them until they feel ostracized.”
“Will do,” Dave said.
The sky was starting to darken into purple, the few clouds that had survived the heat of the afternoon took on shades of gold. Dave stayed on the grass, watching the sky, unable to muster the inertia to move until night had finally settled in. He tried not to think about Gretchen but that inertia was hard to overcome, too, so he went into the house and changed into the shirt he’d brought with him for the party.
Julia had hung a banner in the kitchen that read,
IN HONOR OF THE GREAT AND VENERABLE POTENTIAL PROM KING DAVE “THAT’S NOT MY NAME” GUTIERREZ.