Counting Down with You

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Counting Down with You Page 3

by Tashie Bhuiyan


  4

  T-MINUS 27 DAYS

  Nandini slides me a slice of pizza as soon as she comes off the lunch line, and I smile in thanks. “You’re the best.”

  “Don’t ignore me, Karina. Are you being serious right now?” Cora asks, poking at her salad far too violently. “Ace Clyde?”

  I roll my eyes and toss a napkin at her. My heart has calmed down to a respectable pace, and even though I’m still on edge, being around my friends helps significantly. “You’re such a gossip.”

  “And what about it?” Cora says, flipping her hair. “But seriously, Ace Clyde?”

  “Yes,” I say, sighing. “Ace Clyde. Now can you stop saying his name over and over? I feel like he’s going to appear over my shoulder like Bloody Mary.”

  “Nandini, I think I’m going to faint,” Cora says. “How is she so calm?”

  “Honestly? I think she’s in shock,” Nandini says, shaking her head. “Maybe she doesn’t understand the gravity of the situation.”

  “Oh my God, yes, I understand,” I say, shoving her halfheartedly.

  Cora and Nandini are infinitely more in tune to Midland High’s social life than I am. It doesn’t help that we have over two thousand students. Everyone usually sticks to their own grades and their own social circles. Aside from the people who have been in my classes through the years, I know only a handful of freshmen because of my brother, and know is a stretch.

  But even with my small social circle, it would be impossible not to know the big names of our junior class. Ace is one of them.

  His older brother, Xander Clyde, is Midland High’s student body president. He’s a senior, and beautiful, rich, popular, and intelligent. Almost all of the girls—and some of the boys—want to date him. Everyone else wants to be him.

  Ace is also beautiful and rich. Whether he’s popular and intelligent are debatable.

  He’s definitely infamous among our classmates, though. He sits alone at his own table, tells everyone who looks at him wrong to fuck off, wears leather jackets over designer sweaters, and spends half his time pissing off the school faculty.

  “I really don’t feel like you get it.” Cora shakes my arm. “Do you know who he is?”

  “Yes, Cora. And I know this is going to be a nightmare,” I say bitterly. Of all people, I had to get stuck with the school’s resident preppy bad boy. “Why would Miss Cannon do this to me?”

  “How are you complaining right now?” Cora says, throwing her hands up. “Ace is the hottest guy in our grade.”

  “I hate enabling Cora, but she’s right,” Nandini says, shrugging when I give her an incredulous look. “Have you seen him? Karina, he’s literally gorgeous.”

  My friends are ridiculous. I love them, but they really are.

  “Yeah, well, I’m tutoring him. Not dating him. I’m more concerned that this dude never pays attention in class. How am I supposed to teach him anything?”

  “Karina, you’re the worst,” Cora says, pouting. “How can you think about studying at a time like this? We’re talking about Alistair Clyde! Oh my God, you have to get him to fall in love with you so we can live vicariously through you. Karina, this is what your entire life has been leading up to.”

  “Stop clowning around,” I say, shaking my head. “The last thing I have room for in my life right now is a guy, much less Ace. It’ll be a miracle if I can even talk to the dude without making a fool of myself.”

  “Karina and Alistair sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G,” Cora sings, swaying side to side. I give up, knowing it’s a lost cause when she gets like this.

  I turn to Nandini for support, but she’s staring at me in contemplation. The look in her eyes makes my skin crawl, because she looks like that only when she’s scheming.

  “I’m tired of you both,” I say, flipping them off before returning to my pizza. “I need new friends.”

  Cora laughs but Nandini taps her chin thoughtfully. “I wonder what we’ll wear to the wedding. He’s white, which is a tragedy, but maybe you can convince him to have a brown wedding.”

  “Putting aside how senseless all of that is, you think my parents would let me marry a white boy?” I ask incredulously. “Have you met them?”

  Nandini considers that for a moment. “Maybe we just won’t invite them. Samir could walk you down the aisle instead.”

  I sigh, shaking my head. “Say less. Say so much less.”

  “I’m just pointing out that there’s a lot of potential here,” Nandini says, holding her hands out in defense.

  “What potential? You think that all the people in our school who throw themselves at Ace, he would decide to date the random brown girl tutoring him in English? You’ve lost the plot,” I say, before pointing a finger at her. “Earlier you said something wild happened during gym. Let’s talk about that instead.”

  “You’re no fun.” Cora wrinkles her nose, but she also turns her gaze toward Nandini, which means the conversation is effectively over. Alhamdulillah.

  As Nandini talks about some dude from her gym period who flashed the whole class, my mind drifts.

  I shouldn’t be surprised Ace is struggling with English. I am surprised he reached out for help.

  I just wish I wasn’t the one stuck helping him.

  * * *

  Ace doesn’t show up.

  I sit in the library, waiting for a whole thirty minutes, and he doesn’t show up. It’s beyond frustrating and, if the thought didn’t tie my stomach into painful knots, I’d head upstairs right now to tell Miss Cannon.

  But I don’t want her to think I gave up before I even tried.

  I wait a few more minutes, then decide to check out a US History textbook so I can work on my homework in my newfound free time. If I have to be here, I can at least be productive.

  At four, the bell rings, signaling an end to after-school tutoring. Students start to leave the library, heading for their respective clubs.

  I try to tamp down my annoyance at the empty seat across from me.

  My group chat with Nandini and Cora buzzes with notifications, distracting me from homework.

  Cora Zhang-Agreste:

  SO??? HOW DID IT GO??? IS #KARSTAIR OFFICIALLY A THING?

  Nandini Kaur:

  I want it on record that I prefer #ACEKARINA!!! but also YEAH UPDATE US WHAT IS GOING ONNNN

  Me:

  I literally cannot stand EITHER of you!!! he hasn’t even showed up so... [pretends to be shocked]

  Cora Zhang-Agreste:

  ugh men are such flops

  Cora Zhang-Agreste:

  they really can’t do a single thing right

  Nandini Kaur:

  I guess we should’ve known but damn. it was nice to have hope for like 2 seconds lmao

  Me:

  not to say I told you so but I told you so!!! plus I’M NOT TRYING TO DATE HIM SO CAN Y’ALL CHILL

  Cora Zhang-Agreste:

  chilling? never heard of that concept!

  I go to my locker, pack my things, and grab an umbrella. It’s raining outside, though it wasn’t an hour ago. Another reason to be irritated.

  If I had a confrontational bone in my body, I would hunt down Ace and demand to know why he’s forcing me into this awkward and horribly anxiety-inducing situation.

  As it is, all I can do is wait for tomorrow.

  5

  T-MINUS 26 DAYS

  During my free period the next day, I finish the study guide I started working on last night. Admittedly, I did it more for Miss Cannon than Ace. I want her to know I gave this every effort, that I actively tried to help him. It’s not much, but it’s something to show initiative on my part.

  Giving him a study guide also means I won’t have to deal with this tutoring situation anymore. The problem will be out of my hands.

  My annoyance might have slip
ped in while I was writing it, though. In place of formal descriptions are the crude recaps I usually give to my friends. I probably should’ve kept it more professional, but it’s not my fault he didn’t show up.

  Nandini and Cora insist I go to the library again, saying maybe Ace had an emergency and I should give him a second chance. I have to remind them exasperatedly that I’m not trying to date him.

  God forbid I ever do. My parents would murder me.

  There are far too many rules in my household, and not dating is one of the big ones. Some of them, I can understand, but others are more difficult to get behind. I have to be careful with the way I spend my time, I have to be careful with who I decide to hang out with, and I have to be careful about what kind of goals I choose to pursue.

  With all of that in mind, getting an English degree is more or less a pipe dream.

  Abiding by all these rules day in and day out is exhausting, but my parents have sacrificed too much for me to throw it all away by being selfish. They left behind their lives in Bangladesh and moved here in the hopes of giving me a better life. They want me to grow up and be successful, to be financially stable, to be focused and diligent and hardworking.

  I know they’re thinking about my future, but I don’t know how to be the daughter they can gloat about at our community parties, the daughter whose achievements they can praise to their coworkers, the daughter who never steps a toe out of line and does everything exactly as they wish. Still, a part of me wants that—to be enough for them, to have them be proud of me. The rest of me wishes I could crawl into a hole.

  I try not to think about it too much.

  When I get to English, I don’t see Ace, so I leave the study guide on his usual desk with a scribbled note explaining what it is. Miss Cannon watches me curiously but only offers a smile when our eyes meet.

  I exhale in relief. If she saw how awful my commentary was, I think I’d have to drop out of school.

  I wait on the edge of my seat for Ace’s arrival, but the clock keeps ticking, Miss Cannon keeps teaching, and the door to the classroom remains closed.

  He’s ditching? Seriously?

  Right before class ends, someone knocks on the front door. Xander Clyde pops his head into our classroom, and everyone falls silent.

  His eyes are a stunning pale blue, and his dark brown hair is slicked back. He looks like every Ivy League college’s wet dream, with his brown loafers, tan khakis, and tucked-in button-down shirt.

  When he grins at Miss Cannon, I glance at Cora. As much as she jokingly encouraged me to pursue Ace, I think she’d have an aneurysm if any of us even looked at Xander romantically. Ever since he beat her out for student body president, she’s been seething with contempt for him.

  “Sorry, Miss Cannon, do you have a minute?” Xander asks, leaning against the doorway.

  She furrows her brows but nods. “Class, continue to discuss. I’ll be right back.”

  “I wonder what that’s about,” Nandini says, turning toward us as the door closes behind them. “Do you think it has to do with Ace?”

  As if her words are a trigger, the front door slams open, and a different figure enters. It’s obviously Ace, but there’s a hood over his head, so I barely catch a glimpse of his expression as he stalks toward his desk, snags my study guide with ringed fingers, and walks back out.

  The class immediately bursts into confused clamor.

  “What the hell was that?” I ask, staring after him. “Did Miss Cannon mention I left something for him? Do you think she knows he ditched our study session yesterday?”

  Nandini looks as bemused as I feel. “Maybe?”

  Cora is stretching her neck, trying to catch a glimpse of them through the back door’s window. “I bet his asshole brother has something to do with it.”

  “Not everything is Xander’s fault,” Nandini says, nudging her.

  Cora harrumphs, her eyes narrowed at the door.

  When it opens again, we all watch with bated breath, but only Miss Cannon steps through.

  She gives the entire class a pointed look. “I trust you all had a productive discussion in my absence.”

  Everyone mutters an affirmative, but I doubt anyone discussed anything aside from Ace and Xander.

  When class finally ends, Miss Cannon calls me over. I walk slowly to her desk, ignoring the too-fast beat of my heart as I try to anticipate how the conversation will play out.

  “How did it go yesterday?” she asks with a bright grin, and my brain short-circuits.

  She doesn’t know.

  For a moment, I consider telling the truth. Then I imagine her face wiped clean of joy and abandon that idea. My anxiety demands I refrain from disappointing Miss Cannon. She has enough on her plate, with over a hundred students to monitor each day.

  “It’s a work in progress,” I say, which is the truth. He did take the study guide. “I haven’t quite gotten a feel for the situation yet. I have high hopes, though.”

  “I’m so glad to hear that.” Miss Cannon releases a low sigh. “You’re an angel, Karina. Thank you so much for doing this.”

  “It’s no big deal,” I say, waving a hand. “I’ll keep you updated.”

  On my way out, I falter at the sight of a packet of papers in the recycling bin outside the classroom.

  No way.

  I march into the hallway and fish it out of the otherwise-empty bin, staring at it incredulously. He threw out my study guide? I know it was a little unrefined, but this is ridiculous.

  Nandini and Cora meet me in the hallway, looking between the study guide and my face.

  “Jesus. I guess they’re both assholes,” Cora says, shaking her head. “At least they make good eye candy. Whatever. On the bright side, that means you’re free after school today, right? I know we were going to work on our Italian project over FaceTime this weekend, but since we’re already here...”

  I blink at them, still grappling with the fact that Ace tossed my study guide away. “I—but my parents...”

  “They’re not around,” Nandini says, bumping hips with me. She steals the study guide from me, unzips my bag, and unceremoniously shoves it inside. “Plus your Dadu thinks you’re tutoring after school anyway, right?”

  “I mean, I guess,” I say, licking my lips uncertainly. “But I—”

  “Come on,” Cora says, pouting at me. “Shouldn’t we make the most of your time? We could even grab food afterward. It’s not like you ever go to Pre-Med Society anyway.”

  “It’s not my fault it’s so boring,” I say, and realize they’re both laughing at me. I sigh, a smile tugging at my mouth. “Yeah, okay. It’s not like anyone will notice I’m gone.”

  “Hey, maybe we’ll run into Ace,” Cora says, pulling me down the hall, in the direction of the cafeteria. There’s a sharp grin on her face. “Wouldn’t that be fun?”

  “No,” I say and pray that Ace stays far, far away from the library today. “That would not be fun.”

  6

  T-MINUS 26 DAYS

  At the library, the three of us split up to find different books for the Italian project. I’m in charge of books on the Italian economy, and I find them quickly, too used to navigating these aisles.

  I sit down at our table, opening a fresh page and writing out the project’s requirements.

  A shadow looms over me, taller than both Nandini and Cora. I turn around slowly, and my eyes almost bulge out of my head when I see Alistair “Ace” Clyde leaning against a bookshelf, watching me.

  My first stupid thought is: Why is he so tall?

  My second stupid thought is: Who wears a leather jacket with a designer sweater?

  My third stupid thought is: Why is he looking at me like that?

  Ace is as beautiful as everyone says he is. I’ve seen him in class and around the hallways, but I’ve never been the subject of his int
ense stare before.

  His skin is incredibly pale, and the first metaphor that comes to mind is that he’s moonlight woven into a human being. It sounds pretentious, but it’s true. His dark hair—on the edge between brown and black—is messy and rumpled as if he spends hours running his hands through it. His eyes are some strange kaleidoscopic mix of green and blue, and they twinkle in the faint sunlight that comes through the dusty library windows.

  He shares the same strong jaw as his older brother, and his eyebrows are thicker than mine, which is saying something. Unlike his brother, he’s tall and lanky. He probably has nine inches on me, at the very least, since I’m five-two.

  A lollipop stick hangs in the corner of his mouth, and I try not to fixate on it. The last thing I want is for him to think I’m staring at his lips.

  As if he can read my thoughts, he reaches up to take the lollipop out, and I see his fingers are covered in rings of all shapes, sizes, and colors.

  “Karina Ahmed?”

  It’s a miracle I don’t jolt at the sound of my name.

  “Alistair Clyde,” I say. “What are you doing here?”

  He raises his eyebrows. “Don’t we have a study session?”

  I blink at him. “You’re here to study? After you tossed my study guide in the recycling bin?” Immediately, I bite my lip, the weight of dead butterflies heavy in my stomach. I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t have the energy to argue with Ace Clyde over a study guide. “Never mind. Forget it.”

  One corner of his mouth turns up, but I wouldn’t call it a smile. “No one calls me Alistair.”

  “Miss Cannon does,” I say mildly, still reeling from this turn of events.

  He tilts his head in consideration. “So she does.”

  A moment passes before Ace saunters around the table and sits across from me, sprawling on the chair. “So, Ahmed. You didn’t tell Miss Cannon I bailed yesterday. Why?”

  I gape at him. Why does it matter? Why is he here?

  “I have no interest in landing you in unnecessary trouble,” I say after a few seconds.

 

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