Sometimes, though, he needed a little push.
“Nightmares?” I asked lightly, pulling on my other boot.
Oscar shrugged without looking at me. “They’re not nightmares.”
“You said weird dreams,” I said. “I assumed you meant bad weird. So . . . nightmares.”
“No, I meant they’re . . .” Oscar broke off, yawning widely. He turned around when I stood up, and stared at my boots in surprise. “Where are you going?”
I wrinkled my nose. “To that paranormal museum? To check out the thoughtography exhibit? Remember, we talked about it last night . . .”
His expression cleared. “Oh, right.”
“Seriously, what’s going on with you?” I asked. “Did you get some bad news or something?”
“No, it’s . . .” Oscar stopped and shook his head. “It’s hard to explain. Later, okay? You’re gonna be late.”
I glanced at the time on the laptop screen. “Yeah, all right.”
My gaze fell on a stack of papers between the laptop and the mirror. Fright TV had renewed Passport to Paranormal for a third season after our Buenos Aires episode’s great ratings. The contract they’d given my dad had been sitting on our desk for almost two weeks now. Oscar and I shared a glance before I slid it toward me and flipped to the last page. At the sight of the still-blank line, I sighed.
“He still hasn’t signed?” Oscar said, brow furrowed. “Why?”
“Eh, he’s probably just waiting for his agent to approve it.” I ignored the twinge in my stomach and pushed the contract back to where Dad had left it. “Maybe they have to negotiate some stuff.”
“Maybe,” Oscar replied. “But I’m pretty sure Roland and Sam turned theirs in a week ago.”
“Huh.” I grabbed my puffy gray winter coat off the armchair. “I’m sure Dad’ll turn it in soon.”
“Hope so.”
I swallowed hard as I zipped up my coat. I’d been trying not to stress about that unsigned contract, but every morning that I woke up to find it still on our desk made it more difficult. And it bothered me that Roland Yeske and Sam Sumners, P2P’s parapsychologist and medium, had already turned in their contracts. Dad loved hosting P2P. He loved his job. So why hadn’t he committed to another season yet? He couldn’t possibly want to move back to Ohio . . . could he?
I could just ask him. I should. But I was too afraid of what his answer might be.
“Did he decide what to do about your house yet?” Oscar asked suddenly. I cringed, glancing over at the box from Grandma. The day it arrived Dad and I called to thank her, and it turned out she had some news. Good news. A documentary series about her horror movie star days. Moving to L.A. to “get back into the business.” Great news.
Selling the house we rented from her. Not-so-great news.
She wanted to give Dad a chance to buy it before putting it on the market. I could tell Dad had been just as floored as I was. He asked if he could have time to think about it, and she said there was no rush. Afterward, Dad and I just stared at each other.
“Well,” I’d said. “It’s not like we really live there anymore.”
“But we still need a home,” Dad had responded. “A home base. Between seasons.”
Between seasons. He’d said that, but he still hadn’t actually agreed to host season three. On the other hand, he hadn’t given Grandma an answer about the house yet, either.
“No,” I told Oscar. “But I mean, even if he buys it, that doesn’t mean he’s not coming back to the show. We need a place to live when we’re not traveling, obviously.”
“Yeah.” Oscar looked like he wanted to say more, but just turned back to the laptop. “Anyway. Have fun at the museum.”
“Thanks.”
His voice turned a little sly. “Tell Jamie I said hi.”
I shot him a look, willing myself not to blush. “I will. Hey, where’s my camera? It was right here by the TV.”
Oscar frowned. “I didn’t touch it.”
I turned slowly, my eyes darting from the TV to the desk to the little table by the window. Then I spotted a flash of silver on the armchair, just behind the cushion. “Aha.” I tucked the Elapse into my pocket, ignoring a familiar sense of unease. This had been happening a lot over the last few weeks—my camera, my homework, all kinds of items turning up in the wrong place. I kept trying to convince myself I was just being forgetful, but it was getting to the point where that was almost as unsettling as the other option: Someone, or something, was moving them.
After double-checking my coat pockets for my gloves, I headed down the hall to the elevator. I could worry about Dad and the house and why he hadn’t signed that contract later.
But right now, it was time for my second date with Jamie Cooper.
CHAPTER TWO WE’RE ALL MADDER HERE
P2P FAN FORUMS
Season 3 Finale Gossip!
Maytrix [admin]
Word on the street is Fright TV’s booked a guest star for the finale of P2P next month. Anyone have any thoughts on who it might be?
AntiSimon [member]
Bernice!! I hope, anyway. Jack’s a great host but I really miss her. And the crew’s in NYC right now—she works at the natural history museum there.
spicychai [member]
if it’s a former host, my bet’s on emily
AntiSimon [member]
Uh, pretty sure she’s locked up. Also pretty sure you’re joking, because why would they bring back someone who LITERALLY ATTACKED THEM.
YourCohortInCrime [member]
Ratings.
presidentskroob [member]
sorry Simon, I know for a fact it’s not Bernice. (and YCIC, there is no way they’d bring that loony bird back, give me a break)
AntiSimon [member]
How do you know it’s not Bernice? And hey, where’s beautifulgollum? Her
