Counting Down with You(12)
YEAH STOP TEXTING US AND GO GET UR MANS???
Me:
he is NOT my mans!!!!!!!!!
I put my phone on Do Not Disturb and lean my head against the wall. That was absolutely no help at all.
With a sigh, I dial my home phone number. After two rings, my grandma picks up. “As-salaam alaikum!”
“Wa-alaikum salaam,” I say. “Dadu, I might be a little later than usual today. Is that okay, or do you need me to come home?”
“Oh, Myra!” my grandma says happily. “I’m glad you called. What do you want to eat tonight? Vegetable pulao or khichuri?”
“Khichuri,” I say before reining the conversation back in. “Dadu, did you hear what I said? Can I stay late, or do you need me to come home? Do you need help cooking?”
“No, no, Myra,” my grandma says. “Focus on your education. You have your club today, yes? Don’t worry about me. I’ll make dinner and have it ready for you when you come home. Stay safe.”
“Okay, Dadu. Love you.”
“Love you,” she says. “Khoda hafiz!” Goodbye.
“Khoda hafiz,” I say, before slumping against the wall, staring down at my phone. Part of me was seriously hoping she’d say no. My parents definitely would’ve, and it’d be a good excuse to give Ace.
Now? I’m out of options. I’ve cornered myself.
With a sigh, I head back into the library to tell Ace we can go to the sweet shop.
7
T-MINUS 26 DAYS
Pietra’s Sweet Tooth is a little shop across the street, tucked between two larger brand stores. When we walk in, I’m taken aback by how warm and inviting it is. The walls are painted a pretty shade of baby pink and cute little plush cupcakes hang from the ceilings. There’s a corner with board games and books on display, and the booths are filled with fluffy pastel throw pillows.
The menu showcases a wide selection of desserts, from ice cream to cake to doughnuts. A wonderful aroma wafts through the air, making my mouth water.
The counter has seats hanging from the ceiling like swings, and all the employees wear adorable animal ears. The girl behind the register is wearing bunny ears, and she smiles brightly when we make eye contact.
I smile back even though I feel like I’m having some kind of strange out-of-body experience.
“Hi! Welcome to Pietra’s Sweet Tooth,” she says before noticing Ace behind me and grinning even brighter. “Hi Ace. Your usual?”
He’s here often enough to have a usual? I’ve never even heard of this place.
“Yes, please,” he says, before nudging me. I jump at the contact, and a hint of a smile flashes across his face. “The strawberry sorbet is amazing.”
“I don’t like strawberries,” I say, although it’s not true. Still, I feel weird taking Ace’s suggestions. I barely know him, and this entire situation is ridiculous. To the girl, I say, “Can I have a slice of cheesecake?”
“Of course,” she says. “That’ll be eight dollars.”
Before I can open my mouth to ask why the hell a slice of cheesecake costs eight dollars, Ace slips in front of me, gently pushing me behind him. “I’ve got it.”
Right. Ace Clyde is paying for my food. I’m clearly living in some kind of alternate universe. “Thanks,” I say out of obligation.
“Grab a seat, Ahmed. I’ll bring the food,” Ace says, waving at the booths.
“Aye, aye, Captain,” I mutter. He shoots me an amused look, and my cheeks warm. I head for the booth near the book display, wondering why I said that. I glance at my phone and see thirty-five unopened texts from the NCK group chat, which comforts me a little. At least some things will always be the same.
Sitting down, I take out our study materials and spread them across the table. I’m going to make sure we get at least some work done.
When Ace comes back, he’s holding a platter with a large slice of cheesecake, a bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream, and two milkshakes. He sets it down and offers me a drink. “It’s vanilla.”
Do I even want to know how much this cost him? Probably not.
“Thanks,” I say again. “Are you ready to start studying?”
“Give me a moment,” he says, sipping his chocolate milkshake. “I have to acclimate.”
“That’s a big word for someone who needs to be tutored in English,” I say before biting my tongue, eyes wide at myself. Ace isn’t Nandini or Cora. I can’t just say whatever I want to him. I’m losing my mind.
“I have my moments,” Ace says. Thankfully, if his calm expression is anything to go by, he seems unbothered. It’s so weird, because I’ve heard the most horrible things about him.
It all began last year. Rumors started spreading that Ace tried to sabotage Xander’s presidential campaign—rumors that back Cora’s insistence that Ace is the superior Clyde brother—although no one has ever provided proof.
Before those rumors, Ace could be found hanging around the same social circles as Xander. Everyone knows that with beauty and wealth comes popularity. But even back then, it was pretty obvious he preferred to be on his own.
Aside from that, he’s been seen in detention on numerous occasions for reasons unknown. People have taken to creating ludicrous excuses—he fistfought a teacher, he blew up a chem lab, he broke into the principal’s office, he graffitied the boys’ locker room.