xxxvi. ONE BED OR TWO?

After forty-eight hours of Kim Kardashian's ugly crying, three hours of packing, two naps, and a three-hour plane ride, Ace and I arrived at Albemarle North Carolina. We stayed at the Holiday Inn which was pretty much the closest thing to a McMansion for miles around.

"One room please," Ace says to the receptionist at the hotel. "Reservation under the name Johnson."

He then goes on to slide a fake ID and credit card across the desk. The receptionist barely checks and starts typing on the computer. I suppose minimum wage isn't enough to convince anyone to thoroughly screen the guests.

"One bed or two?" The receptionist asks.

"One," Ace says the exact moment I contradict with "two".

The receptionist gives us a bemused look. On the other hand, I give Ace a deadpanned stare which counters his amused smirk. So many mental middle fingers were flipped in that moment.

"Two," I smile thinly. "We'll take two beds."

"Alright," the receptionist says and returns Ace's ID and card. She then goes on to hand us our room keys and a travel pamphlet. "You guys will be in room 269. There's free breakfast and access to the gym. Call the front desk if you need anything." Although her words were polite, I could tell that she really didn't want us to call her from the dead look in her eyes.

I punch Ace hard in the chest once we're out of earshot. "Seriously Blackwell?" I roll my eyes, "One bed? What are you, five years old? Besides, if we got one bed your ass would have slept on the couch."

Ace grimaces at me. "Jesus Cupcake, going as a couple is a lot more discrete. Now stop hitting me before I call animal control."

"At least I'm not a fucking cockroach. Ring ring, it's Orkin."

Ace scoffs. "I suppose you're right; like a cockroach, my presence does make women scream. We are in room two-sixty-nine."

"Cockroaches make men scream too," I wink.

Ace shrugs. "You said it, not me."

My face scrunches up to his entertainment. "Your ability to turn anything into a self-serving innuendo is truly astonishing. It's almost enough of a superpower to spawn a trilogy as part of the MCU."

Ace ruffles my hair to pester me. "Likewise, your superpower would be to annoy people. A Shakespearean wit, really, all stuffed into the athletic body of a garage sale cabbage patch doll."

I'm momentarily stunned by his creative insult. Taking my brief moment of astonishment, Ace smugly retorts, "checkmate."

I ignore him because worse than anything, even stubbing your toe on the table, is letting someone undermine you in a verbal assault.

I push open our room and mark my territory by dumping my suitcase on the bed. The room is your standard small-town, family-friendly hotel. Beige, grandma's socks colored paint covers up the walls. The furniture is simply arranged around the room.

Ace immediately dumps out his suitcase on the other bed. He begins to unpack it, mainly consisting of weapon after weapon. There was enough weapons to constitute Fort Sumter during the civil war.

I give him a look that says are-you-kidding-me. Ace shrugs back.

"Alright," he says after digging up the world's weapon reserve, "Where do you want to go first?"

"The police station." Ace raises an eyebrow. The real reason, of course, was that the coordinates on the USB pointed to the station. He can't know that though, so instead I lie, "Seeing where my father used to work will give me closure."

He gives me a small nod. "I've rented a motorcycle. Let's go then."

I unwittingly flinch. "Remember what happened last time I rode on a motorcycle with you?"

"But did you die? It's either this or walking ten miles. God knows you'd probably physically pass out if you walked."

I let out a groan. "You're a really supportive supervisor Banana Bread. Seriously, your side hustle should be as a therapist."

"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, Cupcake," Ace taunts.

"The lowest wit is still better than no wit," I bite back.

We're locked in an anger-filled stare with neither of us backing down. Finally, he lets out under his breath, "I hope you fall off the motorcycle."

~

Ace and I rode for about 20 minutes on large, open fields encasing the country roads. There was nothing but nostalgic greenery and bright blue skies. Being back here, despite the circumstances, was more sentimental than expected. Once we arrived at the precinct, Ace smoothly pulled into the busy parking lot.

The precinct itself looked like any old building. Mundane concrete slathered the sides into a box, so it looked like a giant brick more than anything. Scraps of dark blue paint lingered on the walls, reminiscent of an attempt to liven up the place. Albemarle didn't have much infrastructure to begin with, and this building was the epitome of that lack of public funding.

Despite that fact though, at least a dozen patrol cars in the parking lot. Several perps are being brought in; the old station serviced as an extremely effective location.

Though it did remind me of an old Walmart people abandoned because too many drug deals were happening on the storefront.

"What is this the Sopranos? Why is there so much crime in such a small town?" Ace muses while hopping off his motorcycle.

"People get bored in small towns," I remind.

The interior of the building is pretty poorly ventilated with nothing for miles around. When I was younger, this place was so new; I couldn't believe the stark contrast.

We enter an empty waiting room with a couple of chairs and a potted plant. Three yards ahead of the entrance was the front desk. Lots of people filled up the waiting room with many more in line.

"Wait here," I state. "And don't embarrass me."

Ace gives me a shocked expression. "Do you really think I'm the embarrassing one in this relationship?"

"There is barely a relationship here."

Ace crosses his arms. He's wearing an obnoxious leather jacket that, and I hate to say this, actually flatters his built frame. "You're right—our so-called relationship is built on instability, self-loathing, and is held together by duct tape."

I mirror his teen-angst expression. "I'll duct-tape your mouth if another word comes out."

Ace narrows his golden gaze. "You can fucking try Cupcake."

I flip him off. He looks awkwardly around for an empty place to sit down. Eventually, he settles for the only available seat in the waiting area where the giant, overgrown potted plant invades his personal space.

Three hours go by before I reach the front of the line. I literally could have went on an emotional roller coaster by rewatching Infinity War during that time.

"Hey, how can we help you?" An officer smiles. Her name tag says "Xu".

"Hi officer Xu," I greet. "Would it be possible for me to get a meeting with the Sergeant?"

"Sorry but the Sergeant is pretty busy. Unless it's urgent, I don't think that would be possible."

Oh hell no.

This would not be like that one time at the DMV where I waited four hours just to fail my driver's test.

"Please Officer Xu," I beg. "My name is Octavia Snow. My father used to work here."

The officer raises her eyebrows at me. "Is your father David Snow?"

I nod so enthusiastically that I momentarily became a dashboard Hawaiian girl. "Yes. I only need ten minutes."

The officer gives me a kind smile. "Just call me Katherine; come with me."

She leads Ace and I through the sea of offices into the Sergeant's office. Katherine knocks on the window and a familiar face opens the door.

"Octavia?" The Sergeant smiles. I'm practically tackled as he pulls me into a tight hug. "It's been so long since I've seen you. You were about the size of a peanut last time we spoke."

"Mr. Antony? You're the new Sergeant? Congratulations!" I manage to make out while the air is choked out of me. Antony was a close friend of my father, and I've practically known him all my life. He's pretty much the closest thing I have to a father now.

"To interject," Ace interjects. "She still is the size of a peanut."

I send Ace a death glare that would put the Death Star to shame. Sergeant Antony rubs his mustache and turns to Ace. "Who's this, your boyfriend?" The Sergeant asks.

"Barely a friend," I roll my eyes.

"What's your name son?" Sergeant Antony states. He looks Ace up and down like a predator.

"I'm Ace Blackwell. I go to the same college as Octavia. We're just friends."

Sergeant Antony lets out a dry laugh. "I'm Antony—the godfather."

Ace stiffens up.

Antony continues, "What kind of name is Ace? Were your parents hippies or something?"

"No, but you could say they were big fans of peace."

Sergeant Antony curtly smiles. "What kind of "friend" would travel all the way down from the North with her just to visit a small town? I'm going to ask you again."

He steps closer to Ace. Sergeant Antony places one hand in his holster with the taser sticking out as a clear threat. If possible, Ace actually seemed nervous.

Sergeant Antony drummed fingers against his belt. He reiterates, "do you have any romantic intentions for my Octavia?"

Ace runs a hand through his hair. "No, no sir, not at all. Just friends."

Octavia: "Every vote is a piece of duct tape I will seal his mouth with so he'll stop embarrassing me."