Free It's an Aardvark-Eat-Turtle World by Paula Danziger

wouldn’t have to worry about finances either.
    â€œIncredible.” I shake my head. “Pellatt must really have felt like a king.”
    â€œHe went bankrupt in 1923 and had to leave the castle,” Jason tells me.
    â€œWow. My mother’s always telling me to put some money away for a rainy day. Pellatt could have prepared for a flood with what this place cost.”
    â€œFor a long time this place was empty, and then in1936 the Kiwanis Club took over and now it’s a tourist attraction. The money they make goes to helping people,” Jason says. “Want to see the inside of the place?”
    â€œI’d love to.”
    Walking toward the castle with his arm around me, I try to relax and not trip. It’s not so easy to walk with a tall person attached.
    Jason pays the entrance fee and we’re handed a map and information sheet.
    As we walk inside, he says, “Let’s pretend it’s our castle.”
    â€œA great idea,” I say.
    The castle has ninety-eight rooms. The plan called for three bowling alleys, twenty-five fireplaces, an indoor swimming pool, and thirty bathrooms.
    Thirty bathrooms—all I want in Woodstock is two.
    Jason and I are holding hands as we walk through Casa Loma.
    A lot of my attention is on our hands and the fact that we are touching.
    We go through the billiard room. The information sheet says it was used by males only for smoking and games.
    â€œThat’s sexist,” I say. “If this is our castle, we should get rid of the smoke but let everyone play the games.”
    â€œBilliards.” Jason laughs.
    I shrug. “We’ll put in video games.”
    We go through the rest of the castle—a library with room for ten thousand books, museum rooms, secret entrances, a wine cellar with room for seventeen hundred bottles, and my favorite room, the conservatory.
    As we walk up the steps, we are very close to each other. The sides of our legs are almost touching.
    Turning left, we are in the Norman tower with an incredible view of Toronto. We can also see the stables.
    There’s no one else up here but us.
    I forget to look at Toronto and stare instead at him.
    We keep looking at each other.
    He leans forward and gives me a tiny kiss, sort of like he’s trying to catch my lips in his.
    Again he kisses me, this time for a little longer.
    We separate, looking at each other again.
    I love his brown eyes.
    I love his smile.
    I kiss him this time.
    We hug each other tightly.
    He kisses me on the top of my head.
    I kiss him on his neck.
    Tourists arrive at our tower.
    We separate from each other.
    I hate tourists.
    From the tower we go to the gift shop so that I can get some postcards to send to friends.
    There are some incredible things for sale. Jason and I keep holding things up that are hysterical.
    There are some things that I have to take home. For Mindy I buy this ugly ceramic chicken. In the front on a little tray is a place for rings. Coming out of the chicken’s rear end are measuring spoons. “Spooning for you at Casa Loma” is written on the chicken. Mindy’s going to die when she sees it. She’s really into tacky to make her laugh.
    I buy Jim a large pink pencil with a globe of the world on it. That’s because he’s always saying that it’s hard to get the point of world politics.
    Jason buys me a snow scene of Casa Loma, “So you’ll always remember our day here.”
    As if I could ever forget this.
    I buy Jason a ruler with scenes of Casa Loma on it. “Whenever you use this, you’ll know that you’re a real prince—a true ruler.”
    He laughs.
    As we walk out to the car, I say, “I love our castle.”
    â€œAnd your prince?” he asks, taking my hand.
    â€œAnd my prince.” I nod, feeling a little shy.
    He stops by the car. “What if you kiss the prince . . .   and he turns into a frog?”
    â€œNot a chance. I’ve