“October ninth,” Alex swiftly corrects without consulting his notes.
“December first ismybirthday,” Daniel inserts.
“Well, that’s gotta count for something.”
He’s gotten three out of four questions wrong so far. The last question of the first round doesn’t give me much hope. I wish Luna would come over here and pretend there’s a candle emergency. She can say they all caught on fire, heaps of melting wax with screaming energies all crying out for love—
“Trevor, you’re falling behind,” Alex reports to the room, barely containing his glee. I imagine him in a suit and tie, microphone in hand, like Bob Barker fromThe Price Is Right. “For five points: What did Romina wear on your first date?”
“A pistachio blazer with yellow gold shoulder chains and mulberry silk lining in mother-of-pearl,” Trevor replies without giving it any thought whatsoever.
“Uh.” Alex is quiet. “That’s correct.”
Trevor whoops. He requests a fist bump, then when he catches the murderous expression our game host is giving to an innocent box of Scrabble, slips his fingers between mine, drawing my wrist to his mouth. He plants a kiss there. I don’t miss the heat that flashes in Alex’s eyes as he follows the movement: from Trevor’s grinning mouth to an opalescent scar on my wrist imprinted with the ghosts of hundreds of kisses that all belong to Alex. Every particle of oxygen in the room sucks flat against the floor for a moment, a sharp sigh, before the atmosphere stabilizes.
The next question for my team is worse.
“Romina.” Alex wheels on me. All of my blood starts rushing in the wrong directions. Alex’s stare is hunting. “Where did you and Trevor first have intimate relations?”
“Gross!” Allison exclaims. Mr. Yoon throws his head back, face pained.
“Alex, that’s vulgar,” Kristin scolds gently. “Where did you find such a lewd game?”
“We’re all adults.”
“You gonna ask your mom where she and Dad have had relations?” Trevor retorts.
“Shh.” Alex’s eyes haven’t left mine. “Answer the question.”
I look at Trevor. Alex moves, blocking my view. I tip up my chin, defiant. “The back of his Nissan Cube,” I declare.
Everybody screams. Kristin shields her eyes, then her ears. “Ohhh noooooo. I wish I hadn’t heard that. Someone please find the wine and bring it to me.”
Alex pales. The glittering amusement in his eyes recedes, card lowering. He stares at me. “Correct.”
It’s the only response Trevor could have given. I’ve heard himmention it countless times as his dream sexual fantasy, which, incidentally, none of the women he’s been with has yet to indulge.
Trevor is making keening noises. “We’re at ten points! Who’d have thought?”
Alex rereads his card as if he forgot where he left off, where he is in general. We cycle through more questions: Kristin, Teyonna, then me. Alex blinks. “You... what’s Trevor’s favorite color?”
“I didn’t get that question on my card,” Trevor interrupts. “The next question should’ve been asking what Romina’s most irritating bedroom habit is.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Really, now?”
“Good lord, Alexander,” Kristin says faintly.
I twist my mouth, hazarding a guess. “Something about orchid bodywash.” He hates the smell of it, made from Lady of the Night orchids.
“You did Romina and Trevor so dirty with their questions,” Allison snickers.
“Correct, he hates sleeping next to your flowery soap,” Alex says quickly, moving on. He fires off the next few questions, and when he comes back to me, he’s talking faster but his tone is flat. He isn’t having fun anymore.
Play stupid games, win stupid prizes, I think. But I don’t get that checkmark of satisfaction that I thought I would, to see him rattled like this.
“What’s Trevor’s middle name?”
Ha! I asked Trevor this question after he woke up this morning. “Joseph.”Take that.
