Counting Down with You

by Tashie Bhuiyan

  Before I can second-guess myself, I nod. “All right.”

  “All right,” Ace says, as if it’s that simple. The grin comes to life. It looks like the sun is shining from Ace’s eyes—the sun, the stars, and the moon, all together. “It’s a date.”

  I’m helpless to do anything but grin back, butterflies fluttering in my stomach. “It’s a date.”

  37

  T-MINUS 10 DAYS

  I’m the stupidest person alive. Why would I ever agree to a date with Ace Clyde?

  “I am freaking out,” I say to my laptop, where Nandini and Cora are on FaceTime. “Why would you ever let me do this? What kind of friends are you guys?”

  “Don’t start,” Nandini says. I don’t have to look away from the mountain of clothes piled on top of my bed to know she’s rolling her eyes.

  She’s in the middle of assembling a puzzle with her brother, and Cora is in the bath, bubbles hiding half her face. They’ve been trying to calm me down for the last twenty minutes.

  Four candles are burning in my room right now, and frankly, I’m worried I’m one candle away from starting a house fire. “I’ve never been on a date! How does this even work?” I start pacing back and forth, my fingers buried in my hair.

  I told my grandma I was going out with a friend today, and she didn’t ask me who—I have a feeling she knows—but anxiety still tugs on my heartstrings.

  “You’re being ridiculous, Karina,” Cora says, her voice shockingly gentle as she blows a bubble at me. “Relax. Don’t put out on the first date. Or do. Just enjoy yourself.”

  “I haven’t even kissed a boy and you think I’m going to put out on a first date?” I ask, eyes wide. “Do you think Ace thinks that, too? I’m meeting him at his house.”

  “I was joking,” Cora says, eyebrows raised as she lifts a bottle of face wash. “Does Ace seem like the type to pressure you into anything?”

  “Yes,” I say, thinking of him urging me to live my life to the fullest. Nandini drops a handful of puzzle pieces and Cora squirts out a ridiculous amount of face wash. I look up to see the alarmed expressions on both their faces and hurry to add, “No. No, sorry, I—no. He wouldn’t pressure me to do anything.”

  Even the times when Ace has crossed my personal boundaries, he’s always been willing to listen and apologize. He learns from his mistakes and doesn’t make them again. I can’t put into words how important that is to me.

  “Then just relax,” Nandini says, her voice soothing as she gathers puzzle pieces again. It helps my nerves only slightly. “So what are you going to wear?”

  “Oh God, don’t remind me.” I fall backward onto my bed. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one. The fear of getting caught and the fear of messing up are terrifying, and both have made a home inside of me. “I want to die. I’m going to jump off my balcony. This is the end.”

  “Karina,” Cora says softly on the other end. For a moment, I feel pathetic at how worked up I must sound just because I’m going on a date. It’s not like Ace asked for my hand in marriage.

  “Yeah, okay. Will you guys help me choose?”

  Nandini smiles. “Always.”

  * * *

  When I arrive at Ace’s house, my jaw drops. He sent his driver—apparently he really is that rich—to pick me up and bring me to his house, and now I’m staring at a rose-petal path.

  I text Ace in confusion, and his only reply is, follow the roses

  The heart results in a strange swoop in my stomach. I follow the petals along a stone path, leading to a greenhouse. Ace is waiting for me inside with a candlelit dinner and a stupid grin on his face that I feel the strange urge to kiss.

  As I step closer, I realize they’re lavender-scented candles. My lips turn up of their own accord.

  “What’s this?” I ask, wiping my sweaty palms against my skirt.

  Nandini and Cora helped me pick out an outfit, a deep blue blouse interwoven with silver designs of flora and a high-waisted black skirt that I wore over black tights. More importantly, they helped me pick out jewelry which I borrowed from my mom’s collection. Maybe wearing traditional Bangladeshi jewelry for a first date is a little over the top, but I think it’s fitting.

  Ace has abandoned his leather jacket for a white button-down shirt and black slacks paired with dark loafers. I try not to feel giddy at the thought of him dressing up for our date.

  “Well, this is filet mignon in mushroom sauce with a side of parmesan risotto. It’s halal, too.” He looks down, fiddling with his rings. “I might have asked my mom for help over Skype.”

  I can’t help but awwww. “Really?”

  “Yeah,” Ace says. There’s a hint of pink to his cheeks that causes a pang in my chest. “She loves cooking, so she was happy to help.”

  He pulls out my chair and gestures for me to sit down. “Bone apple teeth, madame.”

  I burst into laughter. “Bone apple teeth? You’re so weird.”

  Ace shrugs. “You like it.”

  “Strangely enough, I do,” I say, lowering my gaze to my plate. The food smells delicious. It’s fancier than anything I’ve ever eaten before. “Bone apple teeth, sir.”

  He asks about my ride here as we start our meal and I can’t help poking fun at the fact his family has a driver. He takes it gracefully, which is more than I expected. I didn’t think he’d throw a fit or anything, but seeing him laugh it off is a pleasant surprise.

  As I’m spreading my napkin across my lap, Ace taps my wrist. I look up to see him watching me, eyes bright. “You’re the loveliest flower in this entire garden.”

  Laughter spills from my lips. “Is that right? Aren’t you just the smooth talker?”

  Ace’s eyes crinkle in amusement. “The smoothest.”

  Without thinking about it, I lean forward to brush a stray strand of hair out of his eyes. “You’ve wooed me,” I tease.

  He catches my wrist and holds me there, suspended. “Wooed? I’ve wooed you?”

  I pout at him halfheartedly. “I was trying to be nice and this is what I get—”

  “No, no, I like it,” he says, playing with the cuff of my sleeve. “That’s going to be my job from now on. To always woo you. Expect to be wooed frequently and as often as possible.”

  “You’re ridiculous,” I say affectionately, pulling back my wrist. “I think you overestimate your prowess.”

  “Don’t use SAT words,” Ace says, nudging me underneath the table with his foot.

  I slant him a look. “Prowess isn’t an SAT word.”

  “It is,” he insists. “I saw it in a workbook the other day.”

  I falter. Last I heard, Ace wasn’t taking the SATs. “Why were you practicing?”

  Ace falls silent, and his jaw tenses. I reach over to gently touch his hand.

  He looks down at our fingers and exhales. “I’ve been thinking a lot...and I don’t want to throw away my future.”

  My eyes widen. “So, you’re going to take the SATs? You’re going to apply to NYU?”

  “Yeah,” he says, biting his bottom lip. “Yeah, I think I am. I was kind of...the thought was lingering in my head, you know? When I started failing English, I had a moment of panic where I realized there’s no way I was going to get into college if I failed a class, especially not a school like NYU.”

  “That’s why you decided to get a tutor,” I say, the pieces clicking together.

  “Yeah.” Ace isn’t meeting my eyes. “But I didn’t want my dad or Xander to know. I already said I wasn’t going to college. I already said I didn’t care about school. My dad was so mad at me—he’s still mad at me, honestly. But it’s better than being invisible.”

  “How could you ever be invisible?” I ask, thrown by the concept. Even before I was tutoring Ace, I knew of him. Everyone in our grade knows of him. “You’re so...bright.”

&n
bsp; A smile touches Ace’s lips. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” My cheeks warm at the admission. “Back to what you were saying. Does your dad know you’re going to apply?”

  “No. I’m not going to mention it to my dad or Xander, but I’m going to do it. This isn’t for them. It’s for me.” He glances at me and then looks away. “My family wants me to go to Yale, anyway. My grandfather went, my dad went, and now Xander’s going, too.” He shakes his head. “I’d rather go to NYU. If I can’t do that, I want to study astronomy anywhere except Yale.”

  My heart feels like it’s going to burst with pride. “What changed your mind?”

  “You,” Ace says simply.

  I almost bite my tongue off in surprise. “Me?”

  “Yes,” he says. “I thought about what you said about how hypocritical I was being, and realized you were right. I was telling you to live your life for yourself when I wasn’t living my own that way. And you were right about how that was a very privileged way to see things. We’re from two different worlds...but that doesn’t mean they can’t overlap. Even if it’s just one small, tiny inch. That’s enough for me.”

  “How do you exist?” I ask, floored by the fact he’s sitting here with me and having such an open conversation. “How can you be real?”

  “I ask myself that about you every day,” Ace says, reaching across the table to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. His skin is warm where it grazes mine.

  A question rises to the tip of my tongue and, in the gentle glow of the candlelight, I let myself ask, “Why didn’t you show up that first day? To our tutoring session?”

  Ace flushes, his cheek blooming with color, and looks away. “It’s stupid. Xander was nagging at me for slacking off so much, for focusing on the piano instead of my grades. He didn’t know about the tutoring thing, and I definitely wasn’t going to tell him. But then he got our dad involved and things went downhill.”

  “What happened?” I ask.

  “My dad grounded me and told me to come home immediately after school and study, and I—it was the first time in a while that he sounded concerned about me. Like he cared about me. I probably should have just told him the truth, but I couldn’t.” Ace grimaces. “So I went home instead of going to the library. I’m sorry. It was a jerk move.”

  Having an explanation for that first day is strange. It feels both like it was weeks ago and just yesterday he failed to show up. “And then the next day? My study guide?”

  Ace grimaces, running his hands through his hair. “Xander and I had a fight that morning. Ever since our mom left, we’ve grown apart. Before they split up, I was Mom’s favorite and he was Dad’s, and it evened out. But after she left, it wasn’t even anymore. He and Mom rarely talk anymore. I don’t know why.”

  Briefly, I recall Xander checking out an Italian cookbook. I can’t help but wonder now if it was an attempt to connect with his estranged mother, who apparently loves cooking. I keep the thought to myself, unwilling to speculate about Ace’s family.

  “Since she’s gone, Xander acts like we’re competing for our dad’s love. As if it’s something to win. I can’t stand it. I was skipping class that day, but then he saw me in the hallway and the first thing he did was rat me out to Miss Cannon.”

  “So that’s why he showed up during English class,” I say, the memory flickering through my brain. “God. What’s his problem?”

  “When you find out, let me know,” Ace says, a frown pulling at his mouth. “While we were talking, Miss Cannon said you left something on my desk, so I grabbed it.”

  I nod, remembering his entrance all too well.

  “When I came back out with the study guide, Xander saw it. ‘Ace, you’re actually studying? I’m so proud. I never thought the day would come. Miss Cannon, it’s a modern-day miracle!’ I didn’t have it in me to stand there and put up with his condescending bullshit, so I threw the study guide in the recycling bin, flipped him off, and walked away. I came back for it later, but I guess you must’ve gotten to it before I could.” Ace looks up at me, a rueful expression on his face.

  “You’re lucky the recycling bin was empty,” I say lightly, nudging his foot under the table.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t tell Miss Cannon what I did. You know, that’s why I was intrigued by you at first. I’m so used to being in trouble because of Xander, and it was kind of nice to not have to worry about that.” A sheepish smile flits across Ace’s lips. “I might have a trust issue or two.”

  I consider his words, flipping them over and over in my head as I try to work through them. The first thing he ever asked me was why I didn’t tell Miss Cannon about him skipping our meeting. It makes sense now.

  What doesn’t make sense is his relationship with his brother. As upset as I was with Samir this past week, I don’t think the two of us have ever been that volatile.

  “What...happened between you two?” I ask hesitantly. “There are rumors you sabotaged Xander’s presidential campaign. Is that true?”

  “Yes,” Ace says, leaning his other elbow against the table and sighing. “That might be one of the few rumors about me that is actually true. Mom and Dad had been separated for a few years by then, but she didn’t move to Italy until last year, around the same time Xander was running for student body president. Xander and I were always fighting, and he kept telling Dad about every single little thing I did. It was driving me up the wall.”

  “Who could blame you,” I mutter.

  “Xander could,” he says, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “I asked Mom if I could go with her to Italy, because I couldn’t take it anymore, but Xander overheard and told my dad. Dad thought it was because of him. He was heartbroken, and Xander was elated, and I was furious. The next day, I set out to ruin his campaign—not that it worked, since he’s clearly student body president. Since then, he’s been spreading rumors about me as payback.”

  I blink. “What the fuck,” I say, unable to form anything more coherent. “Just...what?”

  Ace exhales deeply. “I really don’t know. I can’t wait until he goes to Yale in August and all this ends. I’m exhausted.”

  I reach across the table and place my hand over his. “I’m sorry.” I wait a moment before offering a timid smile. “At least there’s Mia?”

  “At least there’s Mia,” he agrees, lacing our fingers together. “After you and I talked, I told her the truth about everything. She demands real double dates in the future.”

  My smile widens. “I’m happy to oblige. I’m glad you have her.”

  Ace nods, locking gazes with me. “And now I have you, too.”

  Warmth spreads through me. I try to mask the butterflies raging beneath my skin by extending the conversation. “You know, for someone who asked for a tutor, you spent an awful lot of time in the beginning not studying.”

  “You’re more interesting than English,” he says, grinning.

  I raise an eyebrow. “Sure.”

  He chuckles, squeezing my hand. “I told you before, Karina. I saw a spark in you.”

  “Every time you say that, you sound more ridiculous,” I say, but I don’t pull away.

  “Good,” he says before his eyes light up. “Hey, I just remembered I want to show you something. Are you done eating?”

  I glance down at my plate, which is almost empty. I didn’t realize how hungry I was. “Yeah.”

  Ace leans over, blows out the candle, and takes my hand. “Come on.”

  38

  T-MINUS 10 DAYS

  The piano. That’s where Ace is leading us.

  After he flicks on the lights in his room, he gestures for me to join him on the piano bench. “Sit with me.”

  I take a seat, eyeing the beautiful piano curiously. Is Ace going to play something? “What did you want to show me?”

  Ace looks torn for a split second, but his expression eases a
t whatever he sees on my face. “It’s hard to play in front of other people,” he says, pressing his thumb against a key. “My friend Ben is a natural performer. He loves crowds. Me...not so much.”

  I give him a curious look. “You’ve mentioned Ben before. How’d you two meet?”

  His mouth turns up in the corner. “It was during a competition in Brussels. He accidentally dropped coffee on my sheet music. Ben—he’s a prodigy. Shines brightest on stage. I think it intimidates people, but I don’t really care about all that, you know?”

  I bump shoulders with him. “Yeah, I know. You can be pretty intimidating yourself.”

  Ace huffs a laugh. “So I’ve been told. But yeah, I think Ben expected me to freak out, except I just took it in stride. I know shit happens sometimes. From then on, we stuck together when we saw each other at competitions.” He pauses. “He told me to say hi to you, by the way.”

  I grin. “Did he now?”

  A flush spreads across Ace’s cheekbones and he looks down at the piano. “Anyway, during competitions, I have to pretend no one else is around. I used to be able to play only in front of my mom. But she’s in Italy now, and I’m here, so...”

  “Why is she in Italy?” I ask. I’ve wondered for a while now, but it never seemed like a good time to ask.

  He sighs, hands faltering. “She’s a boutique fashion designer. She’s been opening up branches across the world, and her flagship is in Italy. Even though we talk all the time, I don’t get to see her much anymore, for obvious reasons.”

  I lean my head against Ace’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. That sucks.”

  “It’s not either of our faults,” he says. “When I asked her to take me with her, I wasn’t thinking straight. She travels too much for me to go with her while still attending school, and I wouldn’t want her to sacrifice her dreams to stay with me.”

  A new fact about Ace. Instead of accusing his mother of abandoning him or whining about her being gone, he chooses to absolve her of blame. He chooses to be selfless.