I groaned. “Dad. We did the safety-lecture thing already. No going anywhere by myself. Phone and calling card on me at all times. No more provoking crazy stalkers on the forums—although to be fair, Emily started it—”
“Not about safety,” Dad cut in. “About your . . . involvement with the show.”
“You mean my blog?”
My “behind-the-scenes look at the most haunted show on television” had started out as a way for me to keep up with Grandma and my best friends, Trish and Mark. But then some of the P2P fans found it. And after the whole Emily debacle, I was up to a few thousand followers. Which was pretty cool, but also kind of intimidating.
“I had a call with Thomas Cooper while you were at your mother’s house,” Dad said slowly. “Fright TV’s noticed how popular your blog is with the show’s fans. Especially the, er, younger demographic.”
“You mean kids?”
Dad nodded. “Thomas sees this as an opportunity to attract more young viewers to P2P. Expand our audience.”
“So, what, he wants me to blog more or something?”
“No, he . . .” Dad paused, studying me. “He wants you to be on the show.”
I stared at him. “Like . . . on TV?”
“Yup. What do you think?”
“I don’t want to.”
The words spilled out quickly, even though I’d barely had time to process what Dad was saying. But after enduring a full week of dressing-room “fashion shows,” just the thought of more on-camera time made me want to crawl into a hole and never come out. And this would be on television. If seeing photos of myself on my mom’s Facebook page made me cringe, how could I possibly handle seeing myself on TV? Flash! Ghastly Girl, Coming Soon to a Screen in Your Living Room.
Dad gave me a funny smile. “I thought you might not be wild about the idea. You don’t have to do it,” he added quickly. “But Lidia and I promised we’d at least ask you and Oscar.”
“They want Oscar on the show, too?”
“Mm-hmm.”
Oscar Bettencourt was the producer’s nephew. We kind of drove each other crazy at first, but eventually we became friends. I imagined what his expression probably looked like when Lidia asked him to be on P2P, and I grinned. Neither of us really liked to admit it, but we were a lot alike. I couldn’t imagine he’d want to be on TV, either.
I braced myself against the back of my seat as the plane picked up speed. “Oscar’ll say no, too.”
“You think so?”
I snorted. “I know so. Tell Mr. Cooper thanks, but no thanks.”
It might have been my imagination, but I thought Dad looked a little relieved. Our plane roared into the sky, and ten minutes later I was watching Jaws devour its first helpless victim and wondering if shark attacks were common on the beaches in Brazil.
After a surprisingly short wait in the customs line, I tucked my passport back into my bag and followed Dad through the crowded international terminal of the Miami airport. The theme music from Jaws was still playing in my head. Da dum . . . Da dum . . . Da dum, da dum . . . Da-dum-da-dum-da-dum-da-dum—
“Kat!”
I turned sharply, whacking a bearded guy in the arm with my backpack. “Sorry!” I called after him. A few feet away, Mi Jin Seong dropped her duffel bag, spread her arms wide, and looked at me expectantly.
“Well?” she said, and for a moment I thought she wanted a hug. Then I noticed her shirt and burst out laughing.
“Nothing like seeing my almost naked mother-in-law on a T-shirt,” Dad said wryly as we dragged our suitcases over to Passport to Paranormal’s intern. After giving Mi Jin a quick hug, I pulled my phone out.
“Can I get a picture for my grandma?”
“Oh my God,” Mi Jin said, eyes wide. “Seriously, you’d text a photo of me in an Edie Mills shirt to Edie Mills? Will she think I’m nuts?”
“Are you kidding? She’ll love it.” I took a few steps back and centered her in the screen. Mi Jin was a huge fan of Grandma’s from back in her horror B-movie star days. The poster from Mi Jin’s favorite Edie movie, Vampires of New Jersey, was featured on the front of her T-shirt: a younger version of my grandmother with ridiculously teased-up black hair, deathly pale skin, and an embarrassingly skimpy bikini, standing on a boardwalk with her spike-heeled foot on the chest of a dead surfer. Blood trickled from her mouth, and you could see two tiny holes in the guy’s neck. The tagline at the bottom said: This Summer, the Shore Is Really Going to Suck.
Mi Jin struck a pose just like on the poster, putting her foot on her duffel bag and puckering her lips. I snickered as I texted the photo to Grandma.
KS: told u Mi Jin loves Maribel Mauls!
Dad shook his head, amused. Then he glanced over my shoulder and his face lit up. “There’s Jess!” He hurried over to our gate while I trailed behind with Mi Jin, watching my phone. When Grandma responded, Mi Jin let out a little shriek and flapped her hands.
EM: aw, what a doll! nice to know she appreciates my vampire vixen. unlike some people.
KS: hard to appreciate a villain who uses two cans of hairspray just to go to the beach.
EM: took a whole other can on my butt to stop that bathing suit from riding up.
KS: TOO. MUCH. INFORMATION.
“That woman is my hero,” Mi Jin said fervently as she watched me text. “I rewatched all seventeen of her movies last week. Man, I forgot how great Return to the Asylum is. And The Coven’s Curse, oh my God, remember that scene with the voodoo doll? I can’t even—hey, there’s Lidia! She looks so much better.”
Before I could respond, Mi Jin ran off to hug Lidia Bettencourt. I was relieved to see that P2P’s producer looked much healthier than last time I’d seen her. Being possessed by a nasty pirate really takes it out of you.
I stepped back, pulled my Elapse E-250 camera
