Ale didn’t.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Kaia
“¡Cumpleaños feliz!” Alba sang, plopping onto my bed.Happy Birthday.
I yawned and rubbed my eyes as I pushed myself upright. “Thank you. What time is it?”
“Late enough you missed breakfast, but don’t worry, I’ve got something better. Close your eyes.”
I obeyed. They were so sore from reading and studying half the night, I could’ve kept them shut for another five hours.
“Now. Open.”
A cupcake with pink frosting and a lit candle hovered in front of me.
“You know the drill,” Alba said. “Make a wish, blow out the candle, blah blah.”
“Okay.”
I grinned, but as I stared at the trembling flame, images of last year’s birthday filled my mind. Blinking back tears, I wished for academic success and a bright future—because admitting I only wanted Asher felt too raw, too humiliating.
When the candle gave off a silver thread of smoke, Alba hugged me tight, then handed me a stack of packages and bags.
“You’re spoiling me,” I said. “Thank you.”
“Nah, it’s nothing. Hope you like them.”
The biggest bag held a gorgeous pink knit sweater.
“Shut up!” I pressed it to my chest and leaped off the bed, Alba’s chuckle following me. “You made this!”
“I did,” she said as I twirled in front of the mirror. “Started when we met. I thought you’d look pretty in pink. It was supposed to be a scarf, but… things escalated.”
I darted back to her side and kissed her cheek. “Gracias. I’m glad they did, because it’s already my favorite piece of clothing.”
“Come on.” She clapped. “Open the rest—we’ve got cupcakes waiting.”
A box of pastries sat on the nightstand. I sat again and unwrapped what I already knew would be one of my favorite gifts—her trademark monthly package. Somehow, she always picked the perfect books in Spanish: poetry about broken hearts and hope, novels that made me reflect and kept me awake half the night. They reminded me of Asher. How could both of them know me so well?
This time the package also held a pink diary with a lock. Alba grinned sheepishly as I ran my fingers over the thick, smooth pages. I could write with any pen and the ink wouldn’t bleed through.
“I love it,” I whispered. “But books and good notebooks are expensive. You shouldn’t spend so much on me.”
She rolled her eyes. “I won’t stop, so don’t argue. There’s something else you’ll like.”
The third bag held pink lip gloss and nail polish. “They match the sweater,” Alba said. “I thought pink might cheer you up.”
“It did. Gracias. Let me get dressed, and we’ll have breakfast.”
Once I was ready, we carried coffee and cupcakes to the garden and sat on a bench under the trees.
“Want to sneak out to Oakwood Springs later?” Alba asked.
“Sure. Why not?”
She clapped. “Awesome. I also wanted to talk to you about something.”
