Page 7 of No Darker Temptation

I nod but forget he can’t see me. “Yeah.”

“Is that professor still giving you a hard time about your midterm?”

I snuggle deeper into bed, hiding under layers of pillows and blankets, needing to feel their weight around me. “I don’t know why he’s being such a hard ass. The paper is solid; he just doesn’t like that I disagree with him.”

“What class is this for?”

“Philosophy. It’s an elective but a higher level one. I’ve been taking them since I was a freshman,” I tell him. “The paper is on existentialism.”

“And what’s the argument?”

“Professor Wyatt thinks every free human being is responsible for the design of their own fate. And our lives are only as valuable as the projects we choose to assign meaning to. Existence is a series of goals we set for ourselves and must accomplish.”

“And what do you think?”

“I think life is half fate, half free will. The person who never smoked a cigarette a day in their life but was still destined for lung cancer versus the high school dropout who somehow became a multi-millionaire.” I trace the flower pattern on my pillowcase. “I think you’re half fate, half free will.”

“How so?”

“Regardless of where Karina and I ended up over the summer, whatever city we chose next on our list…I’d have met you anyway. Free will was the moment I decided to go to Barcelona. Fate was being at the right place at the right time—one random afternoon you just so happened to be at El Aliciente so our paths could cross.”

The other end of the line goes silent but I don’t mind. Sometimes Alejandro needs to sit with his thoughts before finding the words he wants to say.

“I think even if you hadn’t gone to El Aliciente that afternoon…I’d have found you. One way or another.”

This time it’s me who gets quiet.

“Go to class, Dee. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Alex?”

“Si, mi amor.”

“Do you still promise to come get me?”

“The second you call,” he tells me. “I’ll be on my way.”

Karina has another dress fitting this month—this is twice since I’ve gotten back from Barcelona.

She drags me and her mother along and every few seconds I check my phone in anticipation of a call or text that never comes. Karina scheduled her fitting for after work and with the time difference, it’s probably past midnight in Barcelona. Not that Alejandro keeps to any sort of sleep schedule but still. His last message is from two hours ago and I don’t want to risk waking him.

The last thing I sent him was a picture of my midterm. There was nothing more satisfying than watching Professor Wyatt scribble out his initial C+ grade and replace it with an A instead. I went over his head to Professor Rosario who’s in charge of his department and with whom I share a last name which basically makes us best friends. She said the paper was excellent and followed his grading rubric down to a T. Wyatt grumbled about a “difference of opinion” but eventually conceded and while this was an A+ paper, I won’t push my luck.

I relayed every detail of the encounter in a seven-minute-long audio message to Alejandro. One I’m certain he’ll listen to a million times before calling me first thing tomorrow morning.

“Do you think the train should be shorter?” Karina shifts on the dais and the wedding gown moves around her. “It feels longer than I remember.”

“You’re not wearing heels,” I tell her.

Karina taps her temple and gives me a wink. “You’re so smart. That’s why I need you in my life.”

“Don’t you think you should take it in more around the bust?” Tia Paula says.

Karina and I exchange a look. My cousin frowns. “Why?”

“You look empty up top, mija. If you lose any more weight you’re going to look like a teenage boy!” she exclaims with a flourish of her hands. “Or maybe we can get cups sewn in?”

I don’t miss the way Karina deflates. It’s a split-second reaction to a searing comment and as quickly as her expression falters, it melts into cool indifference.