Counting Down with You(27)
Ace raises his hands above his head. “I can’t even give you a compliment?”
“No.” I pet Spade once more, feeling warm inside, before pulling away. Ace was right. He is gentle. “Now let’s get to work. That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?”
“If we can’t take a break to pet dogs, Ahmed, then what do we have left?”
“Your dramatics, apparently.”
Ace reaches out and flicks my nose. I allow it, more out of shock than anything else. I’ve initiated more physical contact between us than he has at this point, but it’s strange that we’ve somehow gained this level of familiarity in such a short time. Ace clearly thinks nothing of it, because he turns around and starts walking again. I follow him, and Spade happily trots along at my side.
“Welcome to my humble abode,” Ace says, pushing open the door at the end of the hall.
I step inside and stop in my tracks, gazing around in wide-eyed wonder. The room is large, with high ceilings and copious amounts of free space. Solar systems are painted all along the walls, with small planets hanging on thin wires from built-in ceiling spotlights. A telescope sits by his dresser, and near his window is a sleek black grand piano covered in sheet music.
“You really do play,” I say, glancing at one of the pages, unintelligible scribbles written in the margins.
He nods, his fingers ghosting over the keys. “Yeah, my mom taught me when I was four,” he says, his gaze far away. “I used to practice in the living room, but since I usually play for three hours a day, it kind of...disrupts the peace. After my stepmother and Mia moved in, it was just easier to keep the piano in my room.”
“Wait. Three hours a day?” I repeat, looking at him in surprise. “Are you any good?”
“I hope so,” he says, offering me a mild smile. “My instructor says I’m not his worst student, for whatever that counts. Don’t think I’d fly out for international competitions otherwise.”
I blink. “International? Where have you been?”
Ace plays a single note, eyes drifting up to meet mine. “London, Paris, Tokyo. The works. My last competition was in Vienna. After our sets, me and one of the other competitors—Ben—snuck out midway through the competition and went for ice cream instead. You should have seen the look on his girlfriend’s face when she realized he didn’t bring her any back. I seriously thought she was about to dump him and book the next train to Slovakia just to get away from him.”
I snort at the mental image. “Sounds fun.”
“It was,” Ace says, his smile stretching wide across his face. “You would like Vienna.”
My brows raise of their own accord. “Would I?”
He nods, fingers skating along the keys one last time before he moves away from the piano. I almost want to ask him to play me something, but it feels too intrusive. I wouldn’t want him to ask about my poetry.
the moon falls from the sky
and a boy rises from the ruins
carved by celestial dust
My gaze catches on the telescope again and I gesture vaguely. “And...what about this? Are you into space, too?”
He shrugs a shoulder, sitting down on his bed. “Somewhat.”
“What do you mean, ‘somewhat’?” Then I realize something far more important. “Oh my God, you like space and your name is Ace. Space. Ace. This is incredible.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it all before from Mia,” Ace says, rolling his eyes. “Rest assured, if there’s a space pun with my name involved, I’ve been a victim of it.”
“Can you blame her?” I ask, reaching up to touch one of the low hanging planets. I’m still in awe of how beautiful it is. My moonlight metaphor grows more powerful by the minute. “All of this is so cool. Are you actually into astronomy or do you just like the aesthetic?”
He raises an eyebrow. “You think I have a telescope for the aesthetic?”
“You’re rich,” I say. “I definitely think it’s within the realm of possibility that you would buy a telescope for the aesthetic.”
Ace contemplates that and concedes to my statement with a shrug. “Fair enough. It’s not, though. I genuinely enjoy astronomy.”
I pause where I’m examining a scattering of stars on his wall and look back at him curiously. “Okay, no offense, but...are you actually smart? Have you been holding out on me? Everyone talks about you like you’re failing all your classes.”
Ace startles into a laugh. “Are you asking if I’m stupid, Ahmed?”
My cheeks warm. “I—that’s not...sorry?”
He keeps laughing, his eyes crinkling. “Jesus Christ. You’re bold.”
“I didn’t mean to insult you,” I say, flustered. I’m starting to think I might be the stupid one. Who even asks something like that? I’ve lost my mind.
“You didn’t,” Ace says, his laughter settling into a wide grin. “I’m not stupid, contrary to popular belief. I have As in most of my classes. I just don’t care about most of them.”
I squint. “How can you not care about your classes?”
“They’re just not interesting.” He gestures to the room around us. “But space is cool.”
I don’t say it, but I can’t help but think that’s such a privileged way to approach academics. I can’t imagine doing the same. Despite hating math and science, I still put in a lot of effort to retain the GPA my parents expect to see.