Counting Down with You(116)

“You wrote a poem about me.”

He smiles, dimples popping into existence. “I remember.”

“I’m so proud of you,” I say, pinching one of his cheeks. He grabs my hand and keeps it pressed against his face. “It was really good.”

Ace chuckles. “I guess that means I’m going to ace the English Regents after all.”

“I’m going to break up with you,” I say.

He shakes his head, kissing my nose. “No, you’re not.”

I smile. He knows me well. “No, I’m not.”

Ace leans forward and kisses me again. I laugh, foolishly happy.

He was right about me.

I am a lionheart.



54


T-PLUS 69 DAYS

“Karina, I think we’re good—”

“Just stay still,” I say, cutting Ace off and adjusting his tie. My boyfriend apparently can’t make a knot to save his life. “You keep fidgeting, and it’s messing me up.”

“It’s not a big deal, it’s just—”

“Alistair Clyde, if you say it, I’m going to gag you with this tie.”

Ace rolls his eyes, but there’s a hint of a grin in the corner of his mouth.

We have five minutes before Cora and Nandini come inside and bodily drag us out of his room for taking so long. Ace kindly offered his family’s estate for junior prom photos, trying to win points with my best friends, but he looks like he regrets it now. I don’t blame him.

Fixing Ace’s outfit is helping me calm down. I think he can tell, because aside from his minor protests, he doesn’t try to stop me.

He’s in a perfectly fitted navy blue suit with a lavender pocket square that matches my dress. His hair is combed back for once, and he looks so well put-together it’s hard to believe I ever thought he was some kind of delinquent.

I’m wearing a traditionally South Asian outfit, more beautiful than any prom dress could ever hope to be. It’s a floor length cream-colored anarkali suit with beautiful floral patterns in the navy blue of Ace’s suit. It swishes with every step I take and flows when I spin. My dupatta keeps falling off my shoulders, but Ace catches it before it slips every time.

It was hard to convince my parents to actually let me go to junior prom with Nandini and Cora, but they relented after Cora’s parents promised to pick us up and drop us off. I neglected to mention the brief visit to Ace’s house to pick up our dates, but that’s neither here nor there.

I still can’t believe we’re going together. I still can’t believe I somehow survived the last two months. It’s the second week of June and Regents are next week, but I have no doubt Ace is going to kill it. I have more faith in him than I have in almost anything else.

My fingers keep fluttering around Ace’s neck. I can’t help bouncing on my toes and making circles around him to ensure nothing is out of place.

Junior prom is something I thought I’d never have, so just being here in and of itself feels like a victory. But I’m also afraid someone is going to pull the rug out from underneath me any second.

Ace takes my hands in his, rooting me in place. “Hey. We don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I can go outside and tell Nandini and Cora to fuck off. I don’t mind being the bad guy.”

I smile at him, a fraction of my nerves easing. “You could never be the bad guy.”

He snorts and laces our fingers together. “I’m serious. If you want, we can stay in and watch Netflix.”

“No,” I say, shaking my head. I won’t admit defeat that easily. “I want to go. I’m just...nervous. I don’t know why. I can’t explain it.”

My anxiety has been better in the last few months as I’ve learned better coping mechanisms. I still rely on the countdown the most—I think I always will—but I’m growing and learning and doing better every day.

It’s just...this is junior prom. I’m here. I’m going.

And I’m nervous.

“Don’t be,” he says, squeezing my hands. “I won’t leave your side all night. No matter what happens, I’ll be here with you.”

My smile widens. I already knew that but it’s nice to hear it again. “I know. I guess we should go then, shouldn’t we?”

Ace lets go of my hands to wrap his arms around me. “Nah. They can wait one more minute.”

I laugh and slip my arms around his waist, leaning against his chest. “Just one. Otherwise Cora will come in here, guns blazing.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

I close my eyes and let myself have this impossible moment. He’s humming in my ear, a tune I recognize from the countless times he’s played it for me on piano.

There’s something so warm and comforting about being in Ace’s arms. A feeling more familiar than home.

He’s safe. He’s mine.

“Oh, enough!” someone shouts from outside. It’s the unmistakable voice of my dramatic best friend. “It doesn’t take that long to put on a corsage and boutonnière.”

I pull back hastily, eyes wide. “We didn’t even do that yet. She’s gonna kill us.”

Ace laughs and pulls out a small plastic box from his pocket. “Here.”

I offer him my hand, and he slips the navy blue rose corsage onto my wrist with gentle fingers.