Chapter Text
“Hey, idiot. You left your jacket in seventh period.” Ace’s voice floats through the cracked door, teasing and light.
My desk chair scrapes back as I grab my glasses from my nightstand. Of course Ace is here. When is he not? I swear this is his secondary home.
When I swing the door open, his familiar dirty blonde hair is more mussed up than usual. His band tee looks hastily thrown on. Based on the time, he should’ve just gotten off the bus… What could he have possibly done in five minutes?
“You look like a mess,” I say dryly. He retaliates by throwing the jacket at my face.
“It’s called style. You wouldn’t know anything about that, now would you, Mr. Stick-In-The-Mud?” Ace sticks his tongue out.
“Right. Because baggy jeans and band tees with the backs cut out are stylish. Go back to the 2000s, Ace.” Despite my words, I open the door further, letting him flop onto my bed. God, I just made that, you asshole...
“Whatever. Better than wearing a suit every day.” He lifts his head, staring at my laptop. “Whatcha doing now, nerd?”
I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Trying to figure out prom details.”
A glint catches in Ace’s eyes. “Oooh… You’ve got a date, don’t youu~ Come on, tell me who it is! Is she pretty? Is she one of the student council nerds like you?”
“Fuck off, it’s none of your business.” I shoo him off. In reality, though, it is entirely his business. No matter how messily he dresses or how stupid he gets, he deserves to know the truth about my feelings for him.
The issue isn’t whether or not to tell him.
The issue is the reaction. Not just from him, but from everyone around us.
See, we live in a rather conservative town. My parents, his parents, practically everyone in this place would vote red in a heartbeat.
If I invited him to prom, he’d certainly say yes. But would they even let us in?
“She’s nobody.” It’s not technically a lie. ‘She’ does not exist.
Ace rolls his eyes. “Yeah, okay. She reject you or something? You sound bitter.”
“She did not, thank you.” I grit my teeth. “Now if you’ll let me, I need to come up with a theme.”
He smiles. “Retro 90s. Easy.”
To his credit, it is a good idea in spirit. However, he also happens to be the only person ever who likes music from the 90s. Personally, I find myself to be a jazz person.
“… Yeah, okay. Good luck with that.”
He whines. “No, I’m serious, Ango. I really want Retro 90s. Just think about it. Rock music blaring from every speaker, plaid all over the place… Wouldn’t it be fun?”
“Maybe for people that are failing math, sure. But this is prom, Ace. The biggest event of the school year. It’s gotta be classy.” I adjust my glasses, trying to focus on the document.
“Whatever. I just won’t go, then.” He crosses his arms. Damn his stubbornness. Leave it to him to protest something like a toddler.
If he doesn’t go… I don’t have a date.
And I sure as hell don’t want to end up manning the punch station and handing out cookies to every freshman that comes my way.
My face softens. “I’ll… see what I can do.”
“I thought so.” He flicks my forehead, making me scowl.
“Yeah, idiot, don’t get your hopes up.” I roll my eyes. Ace rolls his right back, not missing a beat.
Although, I’m not really following my own advice, now am I?
“Anyways, are you staying for dinner? My mom’s making chicken curry...” Ace wrinkles his nose—he’s the pickiest eater I know. “Right, I forgot. We have pizza in the fridge too.”
He nods, pushing himself up off my bed and making his way to the door. “What I thought.”
What an idiot, I think to myself as his lumbering footsteps thud down the stairs and to the kitchen. The indistinct sound of conversation fills my ears (likely something along the lines of “You’re too skinny!” from my mother) as I submerge myself into my work once more.
Suddenly, those thirty seconds of concentration turn into thirty minutes—and Ace still hasn’t returned. Of course, Ace has never been one for punctuality—I have it on good authority that he’s one AWOL away from Saturday school—but it’s worrying nonetheless.
I mean… it’s Ace.
The only boy for me.