Jerk.
Monogamist, she responded, attaching a picture of herself sticking out her tongue. The lights were on in her room, her hair down, wearing a different tank top than before. Once, receiving a picture like this would be bittersweet, the joy of her face, the sadness of being without it.
Dave turned over onto his stomach. There was a crick in his shoulder from sleeping in awkward positions just to hold Julia close. He put his cell phone on the second pillow and closed his eyes, trying to force himself into tiredness. Then he caught a whiff of honey on his pillowcase. It made sense. He hadn’t changed his sheets in a couple of weeks. He wondered if Julia had smelled it, if she’d known that’s what Gretchen smelled like. If that’s why Dave had thought he’d seen a flash of sadness pass through her eyes.
Before he fell asleep, Dave wondered why it wasn’t just Julia in his head. Why he couldn’t think of what to respond to her. Why that one line from Gretchen’s e-mail was imbued in his thoughts. Your heart is an asshole for choosing someone else.
ENERGY
JULIA AND DAVE sat in the gym, watching kids play basketball. The tree house had silently been given up, no longer their lunch spot. No one had really said anything to keep them away, but Julia couldn’t stand the way Gretchen’s friends looked at her, as if Julia herself had set out to break Gretchen’s heart.
“Any news from your mom? End of the year’s getting close.” Dave dipped a celery stick in hummus, the crunch loud despite the sound of sneakers squeaking on the hardwood.
“Not yet. I think she’s waiting on ticket prices to go down,” Julia said, though her mom had not told her anything close to that. She actually hadn’t heard from her mom in a couple of weeks. But she was trying not to read anything into that. “Basketball would be more exciting with some rule changes,” Julia said. “Like, multiple balls and secret tunnels that lead to bonus points.”
“So, basically you want basketball to be more like pinball.”
“That’d be perfect.”
Another crunch from Dave’s celery stick. Julia bit into her chicken salad sandwich. “You think she’s actually gonna come?”
Julia chewed slowly, watching the kids run up and down the court, sweat clinging to their T-shirts. “Shit, Dave, I don’t know. I hope so.”
The days had started to feel much longer. Julia found herself yearning for the final bell to release her and Dave into their own little world. The time they spent together at school felt somehow lesser, as if now that they’d become a couple it was not acceptable for them to act like they had before. She constantly caught herself wondering how close to sit next to him, where to put her hands, how long to keep eye contact.
“Me too. Sorry.”
Julia took another bite from her sandwich. She leaned her head on Dave’s shoulder, chewing lethargically. “Is school over yet?”
“Like, for the day? Is your stroke coming back? It’s only lunch.”
“For the year, you goof. This week’s been brutal. I catch myself gazing out the window for what feels like hours, only to find out that it’s been two minutes and the class I’m in doesn’t actually have any windows. One of those violinists in my Euro history class has ADD so bad, I can’t pay attention.”
Immediately after she said it, Julia realized that the violinist she’d referred to had been there the night of the promposal. Julia had invoked Gretchen’s presence, and she could feel it in Dave’s silence. The sound of the basketball dribbling up and down the court reverberated, an amateur bass line, rhythmless.