Counting Down with You(56)

“Hey, you’re the one that wanted to impress my grandma,” I say, shrugging a shoulder. “Back to my friends threatening you. What exactly was said?”

“I was told if I revealed anything about our conversation, my balls would be stapled to a tree,” he says, poking his tuna kebab. “Ahmed, this is so much food. What am I going to do with all of this?”

I sigh. “As Dadu said, you’re a growing boy, you need to eat.”

“Did she actually say that?” There’s a pained expression on his face. “I guess I have to eat it all, then.”

“That’s the spirit,” I say, clapping him on the back. “If it helps, it tastes delicious.”

He sighs but takes a spoonful of food.

Unsurprisingly, after he takes the first bite, the rest go by much faster. I wasn’t exaggerating. Dadu is a great cook, and pulao is her specialty.

Halfway done, he turns to me, his head tilted. “Why did your grandma call you Myra?”

“In Bengali, we have two names,” I say, forking a piece of chicken. “One is our official name that’s on legal documents. Mine is Karina, obviously. But we have another nickname of sorts that we call each other within the community, and mine is Myra. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of my younger brother, but he’s in the same year as Mia. His name is Rafiq Ahmed, but I call him Samir, because that’s his community nickname.”

“That’s cool,” Ace says. “So only other Bengali people can call you Myra?”

“No, I guess anyone can, but most people don’t know it’s an option.”

“It’s a pretty name,” he says and reaches forward to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers brush my skin, and a wave of heat descends over me, but I manage to retain eye contact. “But I like Karina better.”

“And yet you only ever refer to me as Ahmed,” I say, teasing. “Perhaps I should start calling you Clyde.”

Ace makes a face, his spoon halfway to his mouth, and I burst into giggles.

“Let’s stick with Ace,” he says, but there’s laughter hidden in the twist of his mouth. “And I’ll call you by your name, too. What do you think, Karina?”

My smile nearly splits my face in half. “I think I’d like that, Ace.”

I’m heading to bed when Dadu calls me back from her own doorway. “Myra, can I talk to you for a second?”

I pause halfway to my room and look back at her. “Of course. What’s going on?”

Dadu grimaces. “That Alistair boy...is he your friend?”

My chest collapses. Why don’t I ever think? I shouldn’t have humored Ace. Of course Dadu wouldn’t embarrass me in front of him, but that doesn’t mean she approves, no matter how careful we were to keep our distance. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one. “He’s—no, no. I have to tutor him. We’re just classmates.”

My grandma’s frown deepens. “You two seemed very close. I’m unsure if you should...continue in this manner. I don’t know if your parents would approve.”

Oh God. There’s never been a situation where Dadu hasn’t supported me. This is the first one and of course, of course, it’s because of Ace.

In the back of my head, I knew I was pushing it. I’m not dating Ace, but whatever it is that’s between us is forbidden, and I know that. My parents would have a conniption if they knew I was spending this much time with any kind of boy, regardless of race or religion.

This friendship—this fake romance—all of it breaks unspoken rules. Spending time with him alone, flirting when no one is looking, accepting his invitation to prom; none of it is allowed. Even three weeks is too many.

I thought if I kept it secret, it would all be okay. But in doing that, I’m asking the universe of my grandma, when she’s already given me the world.

Dadu is a saint, but even she has to have limits. In this case, I don’t even think they’re her limits, so much as the limits of my parents she feels obligated to uphold.

I have a feeling if it were up to Dadu, she’d let me do whatever makes me happy. That’s the kind of person her experiences have shaped her into—from Dada, to the expectations put in place by her older brothers and parents, to the young girl she never had a chance to raise.

But my parents are still a part of this, even when they’re not here. No matter what, they always will be.

My mouth is so dry it almost hurts to speak. “It’s just for school. He’s just a study buddy. It’s nothing serious.”

Dadu sighs and takes my hand. “Just be careful, Myra. I don’t want to see this end poorly for you.”

I nod. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one. “Don’t worry about it, Dadu. I doubt you’ll ever see him again.”

This thing with Ace and me is so fragile that I’m afraid it’ll shatter in the face of its first obstacle. I have to find a way to make this work. I don’t know how, but I have to.

I don’t know if I’m ready to lose this.



28


T-MINUS 16 DAYS

Friday rolls around, and Ace and I find ourselves at Pietra’s Sweet Tooth, studying. He suddenly closes The Scarlet Letter with a loud thud that makes me jump in my seat. “Can we talk? Seriously?”