“Why are you sitting here?” I ask, glancing around for my friends. Nandini walks through the doorway and stops in her tracks, seeing Ace next to me.

She gives me an incredulous look and mouths, What’s going on?

I hope my flustered expression lets her know I have absolutely no clue. There’s no reason for Ace Clyde to be sitting next to me outside of our tutoring sessions. Not a single reason.

Cora walks in and falters at Nandini’s side. Her eyes nearly pop out of her head and she shakes Nandini’s arm. “Nandini,” she says, loud enough that I can hear it from where I am, which means Ace can, too.

I wince and look back at Ace, who’s sucking on his lollipop now. When he notices me looking, he produces another lollipop from his leather jacket and holds it out in offering.

“No thanks,” I say. “I prefer Sour Patch Kids.”

“Your loss,” Ace says before leaning back in his seat, slouching into his usual lazy posture. He doesn’t even have a notebook on the desk. No wonder he’s failing.

“Do you really not have even a single piece of loose-leaf paper?”

“Forgot my bag.”

“As in...your book bag? You forgot your book bag?”

He shrugs and smirks in a way that’s completely infuriating.

I sigh and face forward. Maybe my good work ethic can rub off on him through proximity. Osmosis and all that. Inshallah.

Miss Cannon finishes writing our opening activity on the board and turns around, but she falters at the sight of me and Ace in the back row together.

And then she grins. Like, beams. I’ve never seen her that happy in my life.

“Would you look at that?” Ace whispers.

Without thinking, I smack his arm. As soon as I realize what I did, I open my mouth in apology, horrified, but he’s smiling, too. His dimples are on display, and he’s never looked more annoying or beautiful.

mouths are strange and peculiar

they can be happy, they can be sad

a curve of a lip here, a downturn there

My classmates are staring at us in disbelief. Well, they’re staring at him, and I’m more of an afterthought. I’m pretty sure Ace has never smiled in public before, so this is an anomaly for everyone.

It doesn’t help that the person he’s choosing to smile at is me.

I have no idea what’s happening, but I do know I want to sink into the ground.

“Please stop looking at me,” I whisper to him and untie my hair, trying to curtain my face from view. My heart is beating too fast, but at least I know I haven’t done anything wrong, which helps significantly. Still, I don’t like being looked at like I’m a spectacle.