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Back Counting Down with You Save as PDF
Chapters (64)
  1. Cover
  2. About the Author
  3. Praise
  4. Booklist
  5. Dedication
  6. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  7. Part 1
  8. 1
  9. 2
  10. 3
  11. 4
  12. 5
  13. 6
  14. 7
  15. 8
  16. 9
  17. 10
  18. 11
  19. 12
  20. 13
  21. 14
  22. 15
  23. 16
  24. 17
  25. 18
  26. 19
  27. Part 2
  28. 20
  29. 21
  30. 22
  31. 23
  32. 24
  33. 25
  34. 26
  35. 27
  36. 28
  37. 29
  38. 30
  39. 31
  40. 32
  41. 33
  42. Part 3
  43. 34
  44. 35
  45. 36
  46. 37
  47. 38
  48. 39
  49. 40
  50. 41
  51. 42
  52. 43
  53. 44
  54. 45
  55. 46
  56. 47
  57. 48
  58. 49
  59. 50
  60. 51
  61. 52
  62. 53
  63. 54
  64. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

For example, Maheer, whose mother is probably my coolest aunt. She supports his dream of becoming an actor, even if it means spending all her time working in order to afford his private acting lessons. Or Liana, whose family promised her she could go to college wherever she wanted, and they’d move with her whenever she made her decision. Their parents are willing to hear them out and understand their side and support their hopes and dreams.

Then there’s me.

My case isn’t quite as extreme as some of the others, so Fatima’s comment makes sense. I’ve never spoken out against my parents and, at this rate, I don’t know if I ever will. It doesn’t mean I agree with the way they act, but I’m not exactly actively fighting it.

I know a lot of my cousins hate their parents, but I don’t hate mine. I love them and, in some ways, that’s worse. If my parents ever kicked me out, I think I’d still miss them.

Because of that, I’ve always kept under the radar. Since no one knows my English aspirations, this thing with Ace is my first visible act of going against my family’s rules.

“He’s just a friend,” I say eventually for lack of anything better.

Fatima snorts. “I saw your friends’ comments on the post. Cora and Nandini, right? They have a ship name for you two.”

“They’re just being silly,” I say, looking at my plate.

“Is that right?” Fatima says, her voice teasing, but then there’s a visible shift in the air. “Listen... I want you to be happy, but I know your parents. If you’re going to rebel, maybe start smaller. I don’t think dating some random white guy will go over well.”

I know, I almost say.

Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one.

Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one.

Every time someone reminds me how out of place my relationship with Ace is, my heart sinks lower and lower.

I am taking a huge risk with Ace. I know my parents, too, and I know Fatima is right. If they ever find out, they will in all likelihood murder me and bury my body in our backyard.

I lock those thoughts up tight in the back of my head. That’s the least of my problems right now. If I’m going to fight my parents over something, it’s going to be my English degree.

“Don’t worry.” The words burn as they leave my throat. “I know better.”

30

T-MINUS 15 DAYS

My brother and I are sitting in the living room, basking in the midafternoon light, when the doorbell rings. I glance up from my book.