Counting Down with You(35)
“Before you kick me in the balls, I’d like to make a case for myself,” Ace says, sitting on one of the steps. “I swear I have a good explanation.”
I sigh and sit next to him. “Let’s hear it.”
Ace fiddles with the rings on his fingers, refusing to meet my gaze. It’s my first giveaway that this conversation is going to be more serious than I anticipated. “My family is...complicated. What you saw on Friday is only a small glimpse into what it’s like at our house. Do you want the SparkNotes version?”
“Please don’t tell me you use SparkNotes,” I say, mostly because I don’t know how else to respond.
Ace laughs lowly. “Of course that’s what you got out of that, Ahmed.”
I elbow Ace. “Just tell me.”
Ace still doesn’t look at me, but one of his cheeks dimples. “Yeah. Okay.” He exhales. “Basically, my dad only gives a shit about me when I’m getting into trouble. My brother’s kind of perfect, so I have to stand out in my own way. If my grades start slipping, he sits me down and lectures me. If I skip a piano lesson, he monitors my next one himself. I know how stupid this sounds, but it’s almost like he only cares about me when I’m letting him down.”
I reach out toward Ace unthinkingly, placing my hand over his. “I’m sorry.” His words resonate in a painful way.
“It’s not your fault,” Ace says, running his free hand through his hair, further messing up his dark waves. “My point is that if my dad knew I had a tutor...my grades would be one less thing for him to care about. I can’t let him find out.”
Puzzle pieces slot together in my mind. “Is that why you didn’t want Xander to see us in the library?” I pause. “Wait, your solution was to tell your family we’re dating?”
“It wasn’t the most well-thought-out plan.” Ace offers me a sheepish glance. “I would’ve left it alone after the dinner, but Xander goes to school with us and he watches me all the time. He loves any excuse to make me look bad in front of our dad.”
My mouth falls open. If he’s implying what I think he’s implying, I’m going to stab him with his own pencil. “So we have to pretend to date so your brother doesn’t...what? Tattle on you? Is that what you’re telling me?”
“Don’t look at me like that, Ahmed,” Ace says, his lips pursed in a pout. “It’s not like I’m doing it for fun.”
I shake my head incredulously. “No, you’re doing it so your dad doesn’t find out you’re actually trying to get good grades. That’s ridiculous! You have to hear how that sounds. Why don’t you just tell your dad what’s going on?”
Ace’s pout shifts into something more serious; a deeper frown that looks wrong on his face. “It’s not that simple.”
“It sounds pretty simple to me. You want me to pretend to be your girlfriend to keep Xander from getting suspicious.” I feel like I’m losing brain cells. “Ace, you can’t be serious.”
“It’ll only be for a couple months,” Ace says, his gaze dropping to the ground. “Or even just a few weeks. Enough time that it seems believable. We could fake our breakup at prom or something.”
“I don’t even know what to say to you right now,” I say, throwing my hands up. “My parents would kill me if I ever dated anyone, even if it’s just pretend.”
“What? Why?”
Before I can answer, the bell rings, signaling the end of first period. I look around, flabbergasted at how quickly the time went, then turn back to Ace. “I don’t have the time to explain the intricacies of my family politics to you, but we’re not doing this.”
I grab my stuff and hurry down the steps without waiting for Ace. I glance back only once to see him staring at me, a contemplative expression on his face.
19
T-MINUS 20 DAYS
Later, I’m walking into AP Physics when a hand reaches out and pulls me away from the doorway. At this point, I’m not even surprised to see Ace standing there.
“Don’t you have class?”
He shrugs. “It’s gym. Not a big deal.”
I roll my eyes. “Well, I definitely have class, so if you don’t mind moving?”
“Just hear me out for two seconds, Ahmed,” Ace says, holding out his hands. His eyes are oddly serious. “I’ll do anything for you to agree.”
I snort. “Okay. Buy me a dozen books a week.”
“Okay.”
I pause, giving him an incredulous look. “I was joking.”
Ace’s expression doesn’t shift. “I wasn’t.”
“Go to class,” I say, shoving his shoulder lightly.
“Just—Karina, please,” Ace says, his tone so earnest that I hesitate. “I’m serious. I’ll do anything.”
I stare at him hard, trying to discern how honest he’s being. I don’t know what to say, because I obviously can’t agree. My parents would have a conniption. I might have a conniption.
But there’s something in his expression that’s making it increasingly difficult to say no.
Strange feelings swim in my chest, pushing on my rib cage, tugging at my heartstrings. Maybe I have a weakness for beautiful boys with gentle hearts.