Page 89 of No Greater Oblivion

Some wounds just aren’t meant to be shared.

Alejandro is determined to resurrect our evening together. I admire his determination and reward him with honesty in the form of one of Lettie’s magazine quizzes.

“This is important, pay attention!” I nudge him in the side with my elbow and read the question again. “As most fashionistas know, the best way to determine one’s color palette and seasons is to start with their favorite color, as we tend to lean toward⁠—”

“This is absurd.”

A huff of frustration leaves me. “Can you just answer the question please? Favorite color.”

He tucks a wave of hair behind my ear and kisses the top of my head. “Red.”

I uncap the pen with my teeth and scribble into the margins. “Red…” I murmur around the pen cap. “Okay. Mine is gold.”

“Why?”

“Gold goes with everything.” I turn the page. “Okay, it wants to know our birthdays and favorite seasons.”

“Mine is January tenth.”

I manage a smirk. “I know. You have the weakest passwords in the world. It’s a miracle no one’s hacked into your devices before.”

He gives a nonchalant shrug. “Diego and Arias are the tech whizzes of the family. I let them do their thing.”

We’re sitting on one of the lounge chairs on the back patio, watching the pool lights dance between shades of blue, purple, and green. The evening is warm with a cool breeze and the sky is clear enough for the stars to blink back at us. Hours must’ve passed by now but we’ve lost track of time. Our phones are inside the house and I’m glad for it. The last thing I want to do is share him with anyone else.

“Okay. Favorite season.” I fill in the blanks. “Summer.”

“I like all the seasons. Except winter.”

“I don’t mind the winter. I love snow.”

“I hate the cold. The winter is for dead, barren, lifeless things.”

A burst of laughter leaves me. “All right Edgar Allen Poe.”

“What’s the point of this ridiculous quiz anyway?” He holds the cover of the magazine up to the light so he can read. “Are they going to ask for my social security number next?”

“Apparently, it’s supposed to help us find our season.”

“Our season? Like the weather?”

“No, color season.”

His eyes narrow a bit. “You lost me.”

“It’s fine.” I drop the magazine on the pile beside me and pick up a different one. “Lettie dresses you anyway, you don’t have to worry about it.”

I flip through the next magazine—a teen fashion edition whose existence I’m certain the Vogue-loving Lettie will vehemently deny—and find a best friend quiz in the back.

“Okay, we went through zodiac signs, birthdays, favorite colors and seasons,” I rattle off the ones whose answers I already know for the both of us. “This is a good one. Who was your favorite teacher growing up?”

Alejandro answers with remarkable quickness. “Mrs. Rubinsky.”

I turn to face him completely, shifting in his warm embrace. “Mrs. Rubinsky?”

A sly smile crosses his lips. “Mrs. Rubinsky.”

“I feel like there’s a story there.”