Counting Down with You(110)

the world is in our hands, that’s what people always say
but what if I’m afraid to carry it?
what if I don’t want to be Atlas?
you, my dear, are unshakeable
you hold your cards close to your chest
courage finds a home in the space between your ribs
I’m too young to understand, that’s what people always say
but I am old enough to see
there’s a forest fire in your eyes that sets me alight
a bravery in your heart that beats in tune to mine
my darling, you’re something out of a story
poetry doesn’t begin to do your soul justice
change is inevitable, that’s what people always say
but what if that change is good?
there’s a lightness to my steps there wasn’t before
there’s a brightness in my heart there wasn’t before
if you held me up to a candle,
my silhouette would be covered in your name
before you, I used to care what people always say
your lovely heart led me astray in unexpected ways
sometimes I think I’m going to burst into flames
from the spark you struck inside my chest
I wonder, how do you keep from setting yourself afire?
but then comes the startling yet undeniable understanding
you are fireproof, lionheart
and now I am, too
Silence follows the last line. My pulse is rocketing under my skin, pressing against my neck as if it’s trying to escape. I’m barely breathing.

Tears threaten to spill from my eyes and I can’t do this, I can’t do this.

I get to my feet and run out of the classroom, despite the protest I hear from Miss Cannon.

I run into the staircase and heave a deep breath, my tears flowing freely. You are fireproof, lionheart. Then why do I feel like I’m burning alive?

Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one.

Despite pressing the heels of my palms forcefully into my eyes, the tears won’t stop. I just want them to stop.

I just want everything to stop.

“Karina.”

“No,” I say, voice cracking. I can’t face Ace right now.

“Please just look at me,” he says softly. His hands are gentle when they touch my wrists, tugging on them until I finally drop my hands from my face.

“What?” I wish he wasn’t staring at me. I don’t have to look in a mirror to know I look as horrible as I feel.

Ace frowns, his thumbs swiping across my cheeks carefully. “What’s going on?”

I laugh hoarsely. “I wish I knew.”

He keeps staring at me with his wide, concerned stormy eyes, and I don’t know how to explain, how to say what’s happening, how to say his poem hit somewhere deep inside of me that’s still trying to heal.

Tears pool in my eyes again and Ace shakes his head, murmuring, “Please don’t cry.”

“I’m so lost,” I say through harsh breaths. “I don’t know what to do.”

“It’s okay,” he says, pulling me toward his chest. He rests his chin against the crown of my head and strokes a hand down my back. “It’s okay. You don’t have to.”

“It’s not okay,” I say, my voice muffled. It’s so hard to breathe. “It’s not okay.”

“Shhh,” Ace murmurs, his lips pressed against my hair. “You’ll figure it out, whatever it is. I know that. I know you.”

“I don’t even know me,” I say, wishing it wasn’t the truth. I’m a stranger in my own skin. I’m a puppet on strings, playing out my parents’ dreams.

“Of course you do,” Ace says before squeezing my shoulders. “Please breathe. Follow me, come on.”

I exhale deeply and try to breathe with the movements of his chest. It clears my head enough to say, “Nothing about me is even real. I’m just the person my parents want me to be.”

“No,” Ace says, his voice fierce enough to jar me. I’m suddenly hyperaware of my surroundings, of his wool sweater pressed against my cheek, the faint scent of cinnamon in the air, the thump of his heartbeat beneath my ear. “That’s not true. How can you not be real? You’re the realest thing I’ve ever known.”

“Maybe you need to broaden your horizons,” I say weakly. I forgot how easy it is to talk to Ace. It’s the most natural thing in the world, somehow, to joke with him even when I feel five seconds away from a mental breakdown. Maybe six seconds away now. With every passing moment, it seems like a further-off possibility.

“Why? You already light up my world unlike anybody else,” Ace says, pulling back to brush my hair out of my eyes.

“Are you quoting One Direction?” I ask. Again, for the first time in weeks, I feel the urge to smile even though I can’t quite bring myself to actually do it.

“Yes,” he says, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “I absolutely am. It’s not my fault they wrote a song about you.”

“Hm.” I close my eyes and rest my head against his chest again. In turn, he wraps his arms around me.

Maybe for five minutes, I don’t have to think about my future.

Maybe for five minutes, I can have this.

A long moment passes in silence before Ace tenderly strokes my cheek with his thumb, making me open my eyes. “What happened back there?”

Well. That was a nice five minutes while it lasted.

“I’m just really overwhelmed right now.” I look down to avoid his earnest gaze. “Your poem was...a lot.”