He nods, his gaze distant. “I’ve been playing since I was a kid. It feels like home for me, I guess.”

“Wow.” I blow out a breath. “I had no idea music meant so much to you.”

“Maybe I would’ve told you, if you wanted to do anything besides study for more than two seconds,” he points out, tugging the earphone away from me.

I bite my lip, chagrined. Perhaps I’ve been approaching this studying situation wrong. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he says, before lifting his chin at me. “What about you, Ahmed? What are you passionate about?”

“Literature,” I say. He makes a face like he doesn’t believe me, and I hurry to add, “Writing is what helped me gain confidence in myself. There’s something really special about being able to express yourself with words. I love stories and I love poems and I love learning more and more with each word. I think it’s amazing.” My words run together in a nervous jumble, but it seems to be enough.

Ace’s disbelieving expression melts off his face. “I’m sorry, too, then.”

“Don’t be,” I say in return, giving him a half smile. The dead butterflies in my stomach are apparently practicing necromancy, because they’re fluttering around now instead of weighing me down. “Maybe we can meet in the middle. I really do want to help you.”

“Yeah,” he says, considering the books in front of us. They’re not ours, but a copy of The Great Gatsby is sitting at the top. “Maybe we can.”

Our studying session that day is much more productive than I could ever have anticipated. I run through some analyses about The Scarlet Letter, and Ace listens attentively.

Every now and then, his gaze flickers across the room, but his eyes always eventually return to me.

Finally, I ask, “Are you looking for someone?”

He startles, as if he wasn’t expecting me to bring attention to it. “Oh. Uh.” He rubs the back of his neck, lowering his gaze. “Not really. I was looking for my brother. You said you saw him in here yesterday.”

I furrow my brows. “Do you need to talk to him?”

“No.” Ace’s mouth curls with distaste. After a moment, he sighs. “I don’t want him to know I’m being tutored. I’ll never hear the end of it if he finds out.”

I tilt my head, considering his expression. “Are you...embarrassed? It’s okay to ask for help, you know.”

“No, I’m not embarrassed,” he says immediately. “My brother’s just an asshole sometimes. It’s better if he doesn’t know.”

It’s clear from the tight set of his shoulders that there’s more he isn’t saying, but I decide to let it go. “Should we head to Pietra’s then?”

Ace looks up and a breathtaking smile breaks across his face. “Really?”