Page 82 of No Ordinary Girl
Ace cuddled up to me, too close again. “Perhaps… another Stephen King story? Remember the one with the writer and the obsessive loony fan?!”
“Yeah, yeah. The one with Katy Bates” I looked down at the clue again. “But I don’t get this whole ‘ruby glass of rum’ thing.”
“There’s no wine cellar or alcohol around here,” he pointed out. “Unfortunately.”
He struck me as someone who enjoyed a nice glass of wine now and then, even at his young age. “Rum… rum… rum.”
It hit me suddenly. “Redrum,” I whispered.
Ace pressed a finger under his chin and cocked his head in that funny way he has. He studied me for a beat, confused.
“The Shining,” I said. “The movie about the writer who becomes an innkeeper at this creepy hotel.”
He nodded. “You, Annabelle Jenkins, are quite impressive.”
I blushed. “Well, you know… horror flick freak.”
“Any clue as to where we should head next?” he asked.
“Well…” I pondered hard. “Writer… something about writers. It’s an old movie. The guy wrote on a typewriter. At one point, I think he was typing gibberish--”
Ace’s face lit up and he leaned in even closer, his breath hot on my ear. “In the library,” he said quietly, “there’s an old antique typewriter.” Somehow, it felt like we were in cahoots, like we were involved in something forbidden. It was all a big secret. And I kind of liked it.
“Yes!” Yes. I had seen the typewriter before. I remembered thinking it was so cool. “Let’s go.”
The library took us to the other end of RAMS. We had to practically sprint again. At one point, one of the black cat decorations on the wall fell as we zoomed by. Ace stopped to hang it back up. He was all thumbs. “These cats remind me of my Bella.”
“Bella? Is that your cat back home?”
“No, she’s here with me.” He said it as if it were just another ordinary part of his not-so-ordinary life.
“You have a cat, here, at RAMS?” I asked, not waiting for an answer. “Pets are not even allowed.”
He shrugged and smiled, in that shit-eating grin way of his. “I have my ways.”
I bet he did. The guy could charm the panties off a nun, as my dad likes to say. I remembered then why I didn’t like him -- Ace is the kind of person who pretty much gets anything he wants. Rules don’t apply to him.
“I’m so jealous,” I confessed. “I wish I had my Oreo with me.”
“You have a cat, too?” he asked. “What breed is he?”
What breed is he? What kind of question is that? He’s a cat.
“He’s just a regular cat… you know… domestic.” I hated that I was making Oreo sound so ordinary, so lame. Oreo is fabulous. “He has the prettiest green eyes, and long whiskers. And he’s black and white… which is why we named him Oreo.”
My cat is better than yours.
“Cool. Bella is a Siamese,” he said matter-of-factly. Bella was starting to sound like a real snob. She probably ate her meals in a crystal bowl, like those pretentious cats in the Fancy Feast commercials. I didn’t like her already.
“She’s a clever one,” he went on. “I keep some treats safely tucked away in my chest of drawers, and she somehow manages to get to them. I have no clue how she does it.”
He was a cat person like me -- it was kind of sweet.
“You can see her tomorrow when you come over,” he added as we raced down the hall.
“I’m coming over?”
Oh yes, I suddenly remembered… the hypnosis session. I wasn’t sure how I felt about being alone with Ace in his room. What if people talked? What if a rumor started? What if Leo heard it? Besides, there was a strict no-girls policy in the boys’ dorm. But then again, Ace had his ways. And everyone and their cousins broke that rule. Leo and I had just broken it the night before.
