It worked. I mean, all night I can’t stop looking at him. Not that that’s any different than normal. But with the mask on, showcasing those hypnotic eyes, which lean more blue today, it’s been making me feel all shivery and squirmy, and it’s nothing to do with the cold.
Could have something to do with the copious amounts of Cava we’ve been drinking all night.
It was Alejo’s idea for us to do something special to ring in the New Year. I wasn’t sure what, since going out in public is kind of tricky for us. Even when we were in Tenerife, we didn’t venture from the house together, and it was a miracle we were able to even fly there and back without seeing anything in the papers (I know, I looked).
But when I discovered that a lot of people dress up in costume for the night, I thought that might just let us squeak past people if we donned some masks and made a thing out of it.
So far, it’s worked.
I mean, it’s almost midnight, so I’d say it was a success.
We’re both staring up at the screens near the end of the square near the clocktower where the TV presenters are stationed for the live broadcast, about to count down to New Years.
Everyone has their grapes.
I assume everyone is also wearing red underwear like me.
The Spaniards and their superstitions.
“Are you ready?” Alejo asks me, just as the announcers ask the crowd the same thing.
To choke and die? Sure.
You see, it’s tradition in Spain to eat twelve grapes symbolizing twelve months of prosperity for each second the clock strikes after midnight.
So, twelve grapes in twelve seconds or your year will be shitty.
I also think choking is pretty shitty too, but I’m willing to give this a go.
And then the clock strikes midnight.
Instead of everywhere else in the world, where people pop champagne and kiss each other while playing “Auld Lang Syne,” we’re all staring intensely at a bag of grapes.
Then they start playing the chimes for the seconds.
And we’re off.
I’m cramming down a grape just as another dong of the chime sounds.
Shit!
I’m trying to pick the next grape up, my fingers tangling with Alejo’s in the bag as he’s simultaneously stuffing his face. It’s not fair, he’s a man, he’s got a bigger head and a bigger mouth!
I finally cram the third grape in, half-chewing, half-swallowing, but I’m seconds behind already. So I just grab as many as I can and pop them all in my mouth at once, my maw so full I can’t close it.
Alejo is doing the same. We both look at each other and start laughing hysterically, the grapes threatening to fall out of our mouths.
Chew, chew, swallow!
The final chime goes and I’m practically gagging on them, managing to swallow the last mushed grape down. Of course, Alejo is done, and still laughing, I guess more at me rather than with me.
“Hey,” I tell him once I’m sure I’m not going to die, gasping for breath. “I did my best.”
“You did it!” he cries out, picking me up and twirling me around, my legs knocking into another couple.
“?Lo siento!” I yell at them, giggling as Alejo leans in for a happy kiss.
“Happy New Year, Thalia,” he says.
“Happy New Year, Alejo.”
“You’re still wearing that red underwear for good luck, right?” he asks.
“How long do I have to keep it on for?”
“I think I’m free to take it off you at any time now,” he says and kisses me again, deeper this time.
He lowers me to the ground and he cracks open the next bottle of Cava he had stored in his backpack. He had the genius idea to line the bottom of it with plastic and fill it up with ice.
He pours us two plastic glasses (they both say “Cheer Up Fucker” in gold lettering—I saw them online and had to have them) and we clink ours together. “Here’s to a new year with you,” he says.
“Here’s to you wearing more sexy masks and eyeliner. I like it. Me gusta mucho.”
He gives me a self-assured grin. “We’ll see,” he says, sticking the cork back in the bottle and packing it up in his backpack. With glasses of sparkling in one hand, our other hands intertwined, we make our way through the square and to the side streets where the crowds are spilling, going every which way.
This feels right.
This is right.
These last few days with Alejo have been some of the