Counting Down with You(87)

“I don’t think you have much of a problem with it,” he says, lips twisting into an impish grin. “You can’t even frown at me.”

I force my lips into the best frown I can manage, but he just keeps grinning. I hold it for maybe ten seconds before I huff a laugh and shove his chest. “Whatever.”

“I win,” he says and darts in to kiss my cheek before I can so much as blink. “Lie down with me, I’ll tell you the story of Orion.”

I start to nod when my phone rings, a picture of my dad flashing across the screen. I sit up abruptly, my breath caught in my throat. “Fuck. Oh my God. Oh my God, what do I do?”

Ace is half tangled in the blankets as he tries to sit up, looking equally startled. “Uh. Do you want to get back in the car? Maybe you can pretend you’re with your brother or something?”

I scramble up, almost falling off the truck bed in my haste. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one. “You got my brother’s number the other night, right? Can you call him?”

Ace nods, climbing off the truck after me, typing rapidly into his phone. My heart is jackrabbiting, attempting to burst through my chest as I run around the side of the truck.

We slip into the front seats and my phone falls silent. I wince, knowing my parents are going to be upset I didn’t pick up immediately.

Ace’s dial tone starts ringing and we wait for Samir to pick up, sitting on the edge of our seats. There’s a rustle on the other end of Ace’s phone and then, “Ace? What’s up, dude? Is my sister okay?”

I grab the phone from Ace. “Baba is FaceTiming me. I need you to pretend you’re with me. I’m going to put you on speaker, okay?”

“Oh shit,” Samir says in surprise. “Yeah, yeah. You got it, bro.”

I call my dad back on FaceTime audio. I’m not even going to attempt video, knowing that’ll end in my untimely death. I have no excuse for being in some random truck at 8:00 p.m.

“Myra?” my dad asks. He’s alone for once, which is a minor relief. “Why didn’t you answer before? And why audio?”

“Baba! Sorry about that. I don’t have a lot of charge right now,” I say, my eyes flicking to Ace. He’s watching me quietly, teeth pressed against his bottom lip. “Video will drain the battery.”

“Why don’t you plug it in?” Baba asks. “Are you outside?”

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming. “Yes. Samir and I went to Duane Reade because we ran out of...tape.”

“Yeah!” Samir chimes in. “Myra Apu and I checked the entire house, but we couldn’t find any. We asked Dadu, but she doesn’t know. We didn’t want to bother you guys, so we just went to the store instead.”

There’s a moment of heavy silence. “Samir, why do you sound so strange?”

My eyes widen and I look at Ace hopelessly, but Samir immediately starts coughing over the phone. “I think I’m getting a little sick. Don’t worry, I’ll ask Dadu to make me some chai.”

“Oh,” my dad says and his tone relaxes. “I won’t keep you long then. I just wanted to check in to see how things were.”

“Things are fine,” I say, forcing my voice to stay even. “I should go before my phone dies, though.”

Baba hums in agreement. “Good night, Myra. Good night, Samir. I hope you find the tape soon.”

“Good night,” we both say at once, and I hang up.

We all sit there, breathing in tandem. I hold my head in my hands. The world is spinning out of control.

Holy shit. Holy shit.

“Oh my God,” I say aloud. “Oh my God.”

“Myra Apu? Are you okay?” Samir asks, a note of concern in his voice.

My vision blurs until Ace reaches out, his fingers wrapping tightly around my wrist. The motion grounds me enough to exhale harshly. I remind myself to breathe. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one.

I look up. Ace is staring at me with wide eyes, and I feel the strange urge to cry.

“We’re good. Thank you, Samir,” I say, my voice choked.

“Jesus Christ,” my brother says on the other end, his exhaustion palpable. “I think I actually need some chai.”

“I’ll make you some when I get home,” I promise, unable to look away from Ace. His grip loosens on my wrist and his fingers slip away, leaving my hand suspended between us. “Thank you again.”

“It’s what we do, right?” Samir says, and there’s something regretful in his voice. A call to his last promise. “I’ve got your back.”

Despite the tension still stringing my body, I manage a quiet laugh. “I’ve got your back, too.”

Samir hangs up, leaving me and Ace alone. Only our quiet breathing exists in the silence.

“Sorry about that,” I say, my cheeks burning with unspoken shame. I lower my hand slowly.

Ace swallows, throat shifting with the movement. “No saying sorry, remember?”

I look down, my limbs heavy with awareness. “I know this isn’t what you signed up for.”

He shakes his head and cups my cheek. “Yes, it is, Karina. I want you with all your lines.”

A tremor runs through me. “All my lines?”