Counting Down with You(18)
I’m admiring a painting hung beside me, of sunflowers on a rainy day, when Ace returns.
“Do you paint?” he asks, sliding me my doughnut and coffee.
“I don’t have a single artistic bone in my body,” I say, looking away from the painting. “That doesn’t matter. Let’s study.”
“Ahmed, you are the most difficult person I’ve ever met,” Ace says under his breath.
I gape at him. No one has ever described me as difficult before. Shy, maybe. Quiet, often. A know-it-all, sometimes. Difficult? No. “Excuse me?”
“All you care about is studying,” he says, shaking his head. “I don’t understand.”
I want to flail my arms in disbelief, but I think that might be counterproductive. I settle for saying, “I’m your tutor, Ace. Of course I’m going to focus on studying.”
Ace makes a face, but the expression disappears before I can scrutinize it. “Okay. Back to Hawthorne. I’m listening.”
I frown. I don’t want this experience to be miserable for him, but I also don’t think us talking about other things is going to be conducive to his studying. “Right. So Hawthorne...”
Before I know it, it’s half past five again. It’s definitely way past the half hour we were supposed to spend in Pietra’s Sweet Tooth, but it’s easy to lose myself in literature. I have no idea what Ace’s excuse is for not noticing, especially since he seems to pay only half attention to the books in front of us.
I don’t have a heart attack upon noticing the time today, but my anxiety still sets in, more from habit than anything else. I start jiggling my leg up and down and clicking my pen incessantly. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one.
I stop when Ace’s hand closes over mine. It doesn’t really help, because it causes me to spasm and he jerks back, an apology written across his face. “Sorry. I called your name like five times, but you weren’t responding. Are you okay?”
“Great!” I say and wince. I don’t sound great. Ace can probably tell, too. “Sorry. I’m just antsy. Anyway, I think we’re finished for today.”
Ace looks me over, his lips pressed together and his eyes focused on my leg, still jiggling up and down. “Can I help?”
“No. No. Uh, I should probably head home. You probably should too, right? I saw your brother Xander earlier in the library, checking out an Italian cookbook. Maybe he’s cooking dinner for your family tonight. Or maybe it’s for school, I have no idea. Does he take AP Italian? I heard rumors during freshmen orientation that the AP class cooks Italian cuisine. That’s why I took Italian over Spanish in the first place. We haven’t cooked yet, but—” I abruptly cut myself off, blood rushing to my cheeks. “Sorry, I’m rambling.”
Ace is watching me in bemusement. “You saw Xander doing what?”
“Nothing,” I say, quickly packing up my things. My mouth is far too dry. “I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”
Ace is still staring at me, lips parted on an unasked question.
“Right?” I ask again, almost insistently. I know I’m a nervous wreck, but hopefully he doesn’t take that as a reason to end our tutoring arrangement.
After a moment, Ace leans an elbow on the table and sets his chin in his hand, looking up at me through dark lashes. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Ahmed.”
I slump in relief. “Yeah, see you then.”
As I walk away, I can feel his gaze burning a hole in the back of my head. I turn and meet Ace’s eyes one last time, and his lingering stare feels like a warning.
10
T-MINUS 24 DAYS
“I’m a horrible tutor,” I say, slamming my locker with an air of finality and revealing Cora and Nandini on the other side. “Why did I agree to this when I’m a mess of a human being who can barely keep my head on straight? I doubt he’s learned a single thing.”
“Is that really your fault?” Nandini asks, scratching her neck. “It sounds like he’s being difficult.”
“Don’t even use the word difficult,” I hiss before pinching the bridge of my nose. “I’m clearly destined to make a fool of myself, and it doesn’t help that he’s barely trying to learn. I don’t even know why he asked to be tutored.” I drag my fingers down my face, trying not to groan. “As much as I hate my parents’ rules, maybe they were onto something with the boy one.”
Cora laughs into her elbow, attempting to disguise it into a cough. “Karina, sweetie...no. Boys are not the problem here.”
My shoulders slump. “You would say that. At least you have girls to choose from, too! Nandini and I are stuck with these useless, uncommunicative, and unproductive disasters.”
Nandini tuts sympathetically. “Have you tried marriage counseling?”
I reach out to smack her upside the head, but she ducks out of the way.
“It literally keeps me up at night,” I continue. They’re the only people I would ever feel comfortable confiding this in. “After I’ve finished all my homework, I’m like, ‘How can I help Ace study?’ and my brain keeps coming up blank. I just feel so bad. Miss Cannon asked me to do one thing, and I can’t even do that.”
The thought of letting my favorite teacher down is one of my worst nightmares. I feel like I’m constantly disappointing all the grownups in my life.