By the time Zara got back to her room, she was buzzing. Not from coffee—but from the memory of Ace's soft smile, his words, and the way he'd held her hand as they escaped through the back gate of the café like a pair of teenage criminals.
She kicked off her shoes, flopped onto her bed, and screamed into her pillow.
Mimi didn't even flinch.
"I knew something happened," Mimi said smugly, sitting cross-legged on her bed and holding Zara's iPad. "So, how was it? Did he tell you he loves you and wants to marry you in secret? Do I need to start picking bridesmaid dresses?"
Zara turned her head. "Why are you so dramatic?"
"Because you're not dramatic enough. Spill."
Zara grinned, cheeks heating up. "He said he likes me."
Mimi's jaw dropped. "LIKE like? Or celebrity 'you're nice' like?"
Zara sat up, playing with her bedsheet. "Like like. As in, he wants to find out what this is. Together."
Mimi launched a pillow into the air and did a mini victory dance. "I KNEW IT! I KNEW THIS WOULD HAPPEN!"
Before Zara could say anything else, Mimi's phone dinged.
Then it dinged again.
And again.
And then Zara's phone joined the chaos.
Mimi's eyes widened. "Uh oh."
"What?"
"Don't panic." Mimi said, locking her screen. "No big deal."
Zara narrowed her eyes. "What exactly is 'no big deal'?"
"Just a teensy-weensy… trending hashtag. About you. And Ace. From today."
Zara snatched her phone. Her heart sank as she saw it:
> #UnderTheTable
Who's the mystery girl Ace Ryder was caught crouched under a table with today?
She clicked the post. It was the photo from the café. The one taken just as they'd crouched under the table to clean up the spilled coffee.
It looked a lot more romantic than it actually was.
He was leaning toward her. Their hands were touching. Her face was tilted up, lips parted slightly. And he was looking at her like she was the only thing that mattered.
Zara dropped the phone.
"I'm dead," she whispered. "I'm so dead."
Mimi peeked over her shoulder. "Well, on the plus side, you look hot in the picture."
Zara groaned. "This wasn't supposed to happen. He said he left his phone. No drama, he said. No drama!"
Mimi rubbed her shoulder gently. "Okay, but hear me out—this is not the worst thing. I mean, you're trending with a literal celebrity. You could milk this."
Zara shot her a look. "I'm not a clout chaser."
"I know. But you are a girl who likes a boy who just accidentally soft-launched you to the entire internet."
Zara sighed and flopped back on her bed. "He's probably regretting it already."
Just then, her phone vibrated again.
> Ace Ryder:
"Okay. So maybe this wasn't part of the plan. But you look great in the picture. Also, I may have just made things worse."
Zara blinked.
> You did what?
His reply came instantly.
> Ace Ryder:
"I reposted it on my story and added a heart emoji. "
Zara stared at the screen. "He's insane. He's absolutely insane."
Mimi snatched the phone. "OH MY GOSH HE DID IT."
She turned the phone to Zara, showing Ace's Instagram story: the photo, zoomed in with a big red heart, and a caption:
> Ace Ryder:
"Best coffee date I've ever had."
Zara felt her stomach drop and rise at the same time. "I'm going to throw up. And cry. Then maybe throw up again."
Mimi cackled. "Girl, you've arrived. Welcome to the Ace Ryder universe."
---
Later that night…
The internet storm had only gotten worse.
Zara had spent the whole evening dodging DMs, blocking creepy fan pages, and hiding from people knocking on her dorm door. Apparently, someone had recognized her from a TikTok she posted months ago where she was lip-syncing to one of Ace's old songs.
Irony.
She was brushing her teeth in the shared bathroom when her phone buzzed again. It was Ace, asking if she was okay.
She replied:
> Surviving. Slightly traumatized. Not sure if I'll ever go outside again.
> Ace Ryder:
"Wanna sneak out again?"
She hesitated. Then smiled.
> Where to?
> Ace Ryder:
"The music room. It's empty at night. I want to play you something."
---
The music room, 11:42 PM
Zara slipped in through the side door of the old music block, heart racing. It was quiet, the air slightly dusty. She tiptoed past the drums and old amps until she found him at the grand piano near the window.
He was already playing.
She watched him quietly, the way his fingers danced across the keys. He looked so focused, so at peace.
He noticed her and smiled. "Hey."
"Hey." She sat beside him.
He nodded to the keys. "I wrote something. For you."
Zara's breath hitched. "You did?"
He didn't answer. Just played.
The melody was soft. Simple. Sweet. Like early mornings and late-night whispers. Like the kind of love that sneaks up on you before you realize it's already taken over.
When he finished, he turned to her. "It's not perfect. But it's yours."
Zara felt tears sting her eyes. "You're so unfair."
He laughed. "How?"
"Because now I can't even pretend I don't like you anymore."
He looked at her like he'd been waiting to hear that for days.
"Then don't pretend."
She didn't.
---