The executive VP of Fright TV is here and he brought his kids—I just met them. Jamie’s thirteen and Hailey’s eleven, and they’re really nice. They’re both WAY into the show, and they found my blog. They think just because a few P2P fans from the forums like it, maybe the ratings will get better. Aaaand they said the network’s probably going to cancel the show after the Halloween episode. So. That’s not good.
So, you guys saw my mom out with Grandma the other night? That’s the third sighting since August. I bet she thadfewfwidskefaszaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
Iwoke up with my cheek pressed against Dad’s laptop. Blinking, I stared blearily at the screen. Apparently I’d ended up face-planting on the keyboard. Through my sleep haze, I noticed the sticky notes with the hotel’s logo printed along the bottom. On the top was a message in Dad’s neat script.
Heading down to Crimptown early. Everyone’s meeting in the theater lobby next door at nine—if you’d rather stay in tonight, call Lidia’s cell to let me know. The front desk can connect you. If you do come, bring your camera! Grandma would love to see some pics. :)
Stay in my room while everyone else spends the night in a haunted tunnel system beneath Rotterdam? Sorry, Dad, that’s not why I signed up for this adventure. I shot to my feet, staring at the clock—five to nine. Dad had placed the Elapse out on the dresser where I couldn’t miss it.
Mirror check: My hair was smashed flat on the right side, sticking up on the left side. My eyes were pink and glazed over. Sweet. Nothing in the tunnels could possibly look any scarier than me.
There was no time to shower, so I swiped on some deodorant and swapped Bates Motel for the least wrinkled T-shirt in my suitcase (Zombies Are People, Too!). Four minutes later, I burst through the theater’s front doors, still trying to smooth down my hair. Normally I’d just braid it, but that wasn’t exactly an option now that it didn’t even reach my shoulders. At some point I’d have to figure out another way to keep it out of my face.
Dad and the rest of the crew were deep in discussion with a guy I didn’t recognize, surrounded by tons of equipment. Not far from them, Oscar stood talking to Jamie and Hailey. He said something that made them laugh, and I felt a sudden flash of irritation. Did Oscar get along with everyone except me?
“What’s with the roar face?” Mi Jin appeared at my side, looping a cable around her arm into a neat coil.
I tore my eyes off Oscar and the Coopers. “What?”
“You look pretty ticked off.”
“Oh.” I shrugged. “It’s nothing.”
“Okay,” Mi Jin said easily. “So, are you excited about tonight? I brought the Ouija board!”
“Cool! Do you use it on the show?”
“Oh, no way,” she replied. “It’s just for you guys. You’ve got to stay off camera, you know. Figured I’d bring some entertainment in case you get bored.”
“Ah.” I glanced over at the Coopers again, and this time, Hailey spotted me.
“Over here, Kat!” she yelled, waving wildly. Jamie waved, too, and I found myself wishing I’d spent that extra minute putting a comb to good use.
“Well, go over there,” Mi Jin said, nudging my arm. “Don’t be shy.”
I snorted. “I’m not shy. I just figure I’m about to spend the whole night around Oscar—no reason to start any earlier than necessary.” Mi Jin pursed her lips together like she was trying not to smile, and I sighed. “What?”
“Well . . .” She finished looping the cable and carefully pulled the coil off her arm. “That’s pretty much what he said about you right before you got here.”
“What?” Turning, I glared at Oscar, but he was too busy blabbing away with Jamie and Hailey to notice. “See? I told you he was a jerk. I can’t—”
“Hang on there, Miss Hypocrite,” Mi Jin teased, zipping her camera bag closed. “You said the same thing, after all.”
“Who’s a hypocrite?” Roland appeared at Mi Jin’s side, sucker sticking out of his mouth. “This one?” He gave me a pointed look, and I scowled.
“Kat and Oscar got off to a bad start,” Mi Jin informed him. “They think they don’t like each other.” I opened my mouth, but Roland beat me to it.
“Wrong,” he said, taking the camera bag from Mi Jin. “They really don’t like each other.”
I blinked in surprise. “Yeah, we don’t.”
Mi Jin sighed. “But why not? You’re so much alike!”
“That’s exactly why.” Crunching his sucker, Roland grinned at me. “Something wrong?”
“Um . . . Oscar and I are not alike,” I said, vaguely aware that my voice had risen in both volume and pitch. “At all.”
Roland studied me for a moment. “I bet your last report card was all Bs.”
Taken aback, I glanced at Mi Jin. “Did you tell him that?” I asked, and she shook her head. Roland pulled the sucker out of his mouth and smiled.
“You’re smart but you don’t study,” he told me. “You figure why bother when you know you can at least pass, right? You usually take charge when you’re in a group—teachers like you because they think you’re a leader, but the real reason you do it is you’d rather delegate the work than actually do it yourself. You get along fine with almost everyone, but you have very few friends you really trust. And if someone betrays that trust, you’re done—no second chances.”
He smiled smugly before popping the sucker back in his mouth. Mi Jin let out a low whistle.
“How’d you know all that?” she asked Roland, clearly impressed. He shrugged.
“Back when
