Counting Down with You(57)

“Uh. Yes?” My tongue feels like it’s glued to the roof of my mouth.

Maybe my study guides aren’t working for him. I have a few different methods that we can try if that’s the problem. I can’t work on any of them tonight, because I have to go to my cousin Sana’s birthday party, but I can start this weekend.

“Karina...” Ace sighs, running a hand through his dark hair. “There’s—we’re so different.”

My heart falls. I should’ve been expecting that. This is when he’s going to tell me all of this is a mistake. Everything we’ve done these last two weeks was for nothing. I knew it was coming. I knew he wouldn’t want anything to do with me after our study sessions, but I didn’t think he’d get tired of me this quickly.

Maybe Dadu’s concern yesterday was the universe warning me.

“I know,” I whisper. I don’t think I can speak any louder.

“I don’t know how to say this,” Ace says, his expression troubled. “I don’t know if I’m allowed to. But I can’t sit here and just...not say anything anymore.”

“Just say it,” I say, bracing myself for the blow, tightly gripping the edge of the table.

“I didn’t realize until yesterday,” Ace says, toying with the rings on his fingers instead of looking at me. “I mean, I had an inkling but I didn’t realize the full extent of it.”

“Ace, just say it.” I grit my teeth together and try to focus on the sunflower painting on the wall instead of Ace. “You don’t want to study together anymore.”

“What?” Ace looks up in surprise. “No. No, Jesus Christ. I’d love to study with you forever.”

The words feel like a balm against my skin but they leave behind a deeper itching. “So what’s the problem?”

“You,” he says, a muscle jumping in his jaw. “Your willingness to put everyone and everything above your own needs.”

I nearly stop breathing. “What?”

“Everything you do, you do because of other people. What do you do for yourself? Is there anything you do for yourself?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t do this, Karina,” he says, almost pleading. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. You let your parents rule your life. You’re afraid to do anything that goes against their wishes.”

I bite my tongue so hard I taste blood in my mouth. “They’re my parents, Ace.”

“Yeah, and you’re their child. Not their prisoner. You don’t have to do everything they say. You’re allowed to do things for yourself.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s not that easy,” I say. I can’t believe how many times I’ve been forced to have this conversation this week. “They’re the reason I’m here. They’ve done so much for me. I can’t—I can’t just throw that back in their faces.”

“You don’t owe them your life in payment, though,” Ace says, leaning forward in his seat. “You shouldn’t live your life for other people. You deserve to live for yourself.”

His expression is so earnest, yet I can’t help but think how naive his outlook is.

“That’s an extremely privileged way to look at things,” I say slowly, willing him to listen to me. “Our worlds are different, Ace. In mine, I can’t just do things because I want to. I can’t let my parents down.”

He sighs, holding his head in his hands. “Karina, I don’t understand. What about what you want? Doesn’t it matter?”

I swallow past the bitterness coating my throat. I believe that he doesn’t understand. I believe that he genuinely wants to help. I think the only way to explain this to him is to turn it around. “Why were you ignoring your family yesterday?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” he asks, gazing at me through his fingers.

“Just answer the question.”

“After I cut class yesterday, the school called my dad to see if I had a piano competition I forgot to mention. My family was just asking where I went. It’s not a big deal.”

“But it bothers you,” I say. The answer is written clearly across his face, from the deep frown and the small indent between his thick brows. “So it is a big deal. It bothers you, because you care what they think of you. They’re your family.”

“But I would never let them rule my life, Karina. That’s the difference.”

“Is it?” I ask. “You said we’re different. We are. But we’re also the same. You know why? Because you do let your parents rule your life. Why aren’t you going to college, Ace? Why won’t you apply to Yale?”

Ace blinks at me, taken aback. “That has nothing to do with—”

“Yes, it does,” I interrupt. “Because you’re doing it to make a point to your dad and brother. Tell me I’m wrong. Look me in the eye and tell me.”

Ace doesn’t say anything.

“I’m right,” I deduce, although I hate that I am. I hate the thought that Ace is throwing away his future. “What’s the difference then, Ace? I’m pursuing medicine because of my family. You’re refusing to apply to college because of yours. Both of our actions are because of our parents.”