BooksBarbecue
Back Counting Down with You
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

There’s obviously some ulterior motive here. Xander has a calculating look in his eye, and Ace looks one word away from punching his brother, so I quickly agree for the both of us.

When I put my address into Google Maps, Xander leans forward between the seats. “You don’t know where your girlfriend lives?”

“No, he does,” I say quickly. I have a feeling that if Ace replies, I’m never going to get home. “But he’s never driven to my house before, and it’s good to have Google Maps just in case, right? You can never be too safe.”

Xander hums, clearly unconvinced. Ace’s knuckles strain as he tightens his grip on the steering wheel, but neither of them say anything as we turn onto the next street.

It’s somehow the most awkward car ride of my life, and my family has had more than our fair share of awkward car rides.

Ace drops me at home first, and I mutter a goodbye before slipping inside my house, my mind whirring.

I’m home way later than usual, but all Dadu does is ruffle my hair and tell me to warm up my Mughlai paratha for a minute. I thank her with a hug, then wonder how my life came to this.

I take a moment to process the events of the night and blow out a harsh breath. God. What in the world?

I think about texting Nandini and Cora about this chaos but decide against it, because it’ll blow over by the end of the weekend. If I haven’t figured it out by Monday afternoon, I’ll explain the situation to them. Otherwise, it isn’t worth the headache.

As I’m going to bed, my phone starts ringing with a FaceTime call from my parents. After a moment of deliberation, I slide my thumb across the screen, answering it.

My dad’s face greets me this time. “Myra, where is your brother?”

“Uh. I don’t know?” I say, glancing in the direction of my bedroom door. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” my dad says. “I wanted to ask him to send me a link for the last Knicks game. He said Dadu deleted it off the DVR, so I tried to find it online, but I can’t.”

Looks like Samir took my advice. “I can find it for you,” I offer hesitantly. “If you want.”

“Really?” Baba’s eyebrows rise. “Can you show me how?”

“Yeah,” I say and move to my laptop, opening up a YouTube tab. I flip the camera so he can watch as I click the official NBA account and find a highlights reel of the game. “I’ll text you the link so you can watch it.”