Before, when Julia had dreamed about love, this is what it looked like:
Like two sprinters making their way around a track. Spurts of energy followed by collapsing into a heap on the ground. Sweaty arms laid across chests, big, gulping breaths of air. Love traveled, it ran, it covered ground, eager to see more, do more. It was two people keeping pace with each other.
OFF
DAVE SAT WITH Julia in homeroom, connected to her by the white cord of Julia’s earphones. They hadn’t said anything yet, though they’d smiled hello at each other, noticed the matching circles beneath their eyes. Dave was looking at the calendar on the wall, trying to recall exactly when things had happened. The day they’d found the Nevers, the hair dying fiasco, Julia’s slam poem. It had felt like ages had gone by, but it had only been a matter of weeks.
Without warning, the Jell-O feeling had returned. Maybe because they’d crossed off almost all the Nevers. It was only 8:06 in the morning and there were six hours left watching that clock and silently begging teachers not to make him do too much. The second hand came into focus, and it moved glacially. There were still four weeks of school left, and the way it was going he had no idea if his life could handle that. Fourteen years of schooling, and the weight of every single day was suddenly compressed into this one homeroom period. He looked over at Julia, who was breathing softly, eyes closed. There was something keeping him from going over and unburdening the desperation with her, the way he’d always done. He didn’t know how to behave around her at school anymore, like there was some sort of fuzz between the two of them that kept things from being exactly how they always had been.
Only a tick or two had gone by. Every second carried with it an entire lifetime of academic obligations, even if at this particular moment he was just sitting there listening to music. There was so much of it still left, time in school, it never ended, never moved. Dave was going to die within four walls just like these, wasn’t he?
Dave pulled out his earphone, whispered, “Bathroom,” and walked out of class, trying to calm himself down. He reminded himself that there were only four weeks left of school, and right away he knew that this wasn’t about school at all. This was about Julia. Something was wrong.
If he could put his finger on it he’d instantly flick the thing away, whatever it was. Because it was pesky and stupid and small. But things just didn’t add up. They still laughed. The kissing was incredible. They’d always spent the majority of their time together, so it wasn’t like it was weird to suddenly be in bed all afternoon with her.
Dave got himself a drink of water, lingered by the fountain for as long as he could, then went back to class. Julia’s head was still on her desk, the earphone he’d pulled out dangling over the edge of the table. For once, Ms. Romero had the bulletin board up and the attention of a handful of kids. Taking his place beside Julia again, Dave made sure to keep his eyes off the clock. He took the earphone but kept it in his hand, fiddling with the cord as he pretended to listen to Ms. Romero go on about whatever. Then he looked down at Julia, whose eyes were open, fixed on him. He smiled and brought the earphone up, and when she simply closed her eyes again the feeling that something was wrong came back.
o o o
AP Chem, right before lunch. Ever since the beach, Dave had been sitting at the front of the class, keeping his back turned the entire period to make it easier on Gretchen, to avoid the awkwardness of eye contact. The class was restless, their interest waning as blood sugar levels plummeted. Mr. Kahn asked questions and was met with silence, no one even interested in cracking jokes. There was a lull, and Dave could feel everyone reaching for the end of the day.
“Bueller? Bueller?” Mr. Kahn was saying. He sighed. “Do you guys even catch that reference?”