Never Always Sometimes

Sand continued to get everywhere, and every now and then a car would pass by unseen on the highway, sometimes with music blasting from open windows. Mostly it was the sound of the ocean and their kisses that filled the night, the occasional murmured I love you, or a joke that would make them both break out into laughter, burrowing their faces into the nooks in each other’s necks until the laughter subsided and was once again replaced by kissing.

 

This, Dave thought to himself as Julia’s hands ran down his back, as he kissed her over and over again, this was perfect.

 

 

 

 

 

PERFECT

 

THIS, JULIA THOUGHT to herself as Dave ran his hands down her sides, as she kissed him over and over again, this was perfect.

 

 

 

 

 

SUNRISE

 

DAVE WOKE UP—like he’d imagined so many times—with Julia in his arms. The sun had just barely risen behind them. Fog tinted the sky a light yellow and made the water look gray. Julia’s head was resting on his chest, her arm draped around him, their bodies keeping each other warm in the briskness of dawn. A few strands of her hair moved in the ocean breeze, clearing away to show her peacefully sleeping face. It was still perfect, except Gretchen was on his mind.

 

She’d never seen the sunrise. Well, maybe in passing, on the way to school or the airport to catch an early flight. But she’d never woken up specifically to see it, never taken the time to watch the sky lighten from complete darkness to unquestioned day. She’d told him that on their date at the harbor, and Dave had promised to take her someday. He’d already picked out the spot where they would go—Brett knew a way to get to the roof of the school, which gave an unobstructed view clear to the mountains in the east—but he’d been putting together a playlist for them to listen to and it wasn’t yet long enough.

 

Dave looked around their impromptu campsite. Their clothes were strewn about, one of Dave’s shoes dangerously close to where the fire had been. A forgotten marshmallow lay in the sand, half-buried next to the jug of iced tea, which had tipped over on its side. The sound of cars on the freeway was not yet constant, but Dave knew it would be soon.

 

Gretchen would be waking up right about now. He’d watched her wake up before, though they hadn’t gone as far as he and Julia had. She’d probably be on her side, curled into a ball, her hands reaching out to her cell phone as soon as she opened her eyes. He could picture the glow of the screen reflected on her face, in the big brown eyes that he’d been looking into so often the last couple of weeks, on those cheekbones. A sick feeling took root in his stomach.

 

He looked down at Julia, who kept sleeping peacefully, her breath steady as a metronome. He couldn’t completely see her mouth, but he imagined that she’d fallen asleep with a smile on her face and that it was still there. Unlike him, she would wake up with no one on her mind but Dave himself.

 

Dave remembered their countless movie nights, how he’d long for the loll of her head, which meant the movie was losing her and she’d soon rest her cheek against his shoulder. Once, they’d both drifted off, and Dave had woken up in the middle of the night to the movie playing over again, Julia’s arm looped through his. He’d kept his eyes closed and pretended to still be sleeping, the joy so simple that he didn’t dare disturb it. At one point, Julia had stirred, then nestled back into him, as if the same thing was on her mind. Strange now to think that it might have been, that everything he’d wanted had been well within reach.

 

He undoubtedly loved her. It had been an incredible night, extraordinary despite the clichés that were peppered in the details. It was a dream come true, literally and metaphorically, except that dream was now tangled up with the dream of Gretchen.

 

Dave shifted a little, bringing his hand to Julia’s temple and rubbing it in slight circles to gently wake her up. He wished he could just focus on this, let her sleep. He wanted to be overjoyed, rather than happy and wrecked by guilt.

 

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