No Ordinary Girl

Chapter Twenty-Eight

"Yes, we can do this," he said, his words smooth as silk, his magnetic gaze fixed on mine. "Well, actually, I know nothing about horror films," he admitted. "I'm rather useless if I'm completely honest, but I know you can do this."

And just like that, I was suddenly a bottomless well of cinematic knowledge. I loved how he could make me great, how he could build me up with a single gaze and a few soft spoken words. I scanned the sheet quickly. "These are all so easy."

I glanced up for a split second. The room was a flutter. People were already scurrying about, whispering, and darting off in all directions. It was exciting and fun.

Mothers and their boys. Eternal love, bedtime stories, and kitchen knives.

"That is so easy," I said in a hush-hush tone. He inched closer to me. He smelled spicy, completely different than Leo, who smelled like fresh laundry, and my mom's garden. I shook my head. This was no time to think of Leo. He could go leap off the plank with his pirate wench for all I cared. They would suck at this game. We would totally kick their rears. Suddenly, I couldn't care less about the iPad, I just wanted to beat Leo and Brianna. "Mama's boys and knifes," I said to Ace. "That's totally Psycho."

"Right. It does sound pretty psychotic."

"No, the movie. The movie Psycho!" I scoffed, a little too loudly. He really was useless.

"So where do you reckon we should go?" he asked, his voice low.

I studied the clue. Bedtime, stories, kitchen knives. I inched closer. "Knives... the kitchen," I whispered.

I nipped at his heels as he led the way. Ace had been at RAMS for three years now, and he told me he knew the place like the back of his hand.

We were breathless when we got there. Two couples were leaving, and it was just the two of us. "This place reminds me of my mum's kitchen," he said.

Really?!

The space was huge. It was like a palace kitchen, about ten times the size of my mom's kitchen. I looked around, but didn't spot anything out of the ordinary. A stool on the floor. No knives anywhere.

"Not that my mum ever spends any time in it," he went on. "Thank the lord for Roberta and Edith."

I had no clue who Roberta and Edith were – personal cooks, I assumed. I rolled my eyes to the ceiling.

Rich kids...

That's when I spotted the hanging basket in the corner. It was bright orange and held a bunch of black plastic knives. There was an obvious sign that read: Help yourselves!

I couldn't quite reach, but thankfully, Ace, who's about six feet, could easily. The wide grin on his face was priceless, as we both jumped up and down like little kids. I thought about Kylie and how she would love this – she goes crazy for scavenger hunts.

Ace stuck the knife in our little orange bag. "We better get cracking. Chop-chop."

I laughed as my gaze darted across the kitchen. "You are a witty boy."

Press play, and you will see. You will see, and in seven days, you will die.

"The Ring," we both blurted out at the same time.

"Well, you have seen a horror movie, after all," I teased.

"Well, it's a classic. I'm not an alien."

I laughed. "Sometimes, you seem like you are."

Two other duos entered the kitchen, and Ace took my hand and led me out of the room. He drew me to him, and I thought we were way too close, but it was the secretive nature of the game. He looked down at the sheet. "So what do you think?" he asked. "Press play..." he was thinking out loud. "The media room," he whispered.