“But that doesn’t mean he’s faking it,” Jamie said. “Maybe Inés doesn’t believe in ghosts, but we’ve seen plenty of—”
“She does, though,” Abril interrupted. “She believes in ghosts. But she says what’s been happening during the séances . . .” She glanced at Thiago, who shrugged. “She says it’s obviously fake. You’ll see for yourself on Friday.”
I let out a long, slow breath. “Yeah, when we film it. And show it on TV.”
I could tell the others were thinking the same thing. The show’s fans would always argue about whether little things, like our Ouija board experience, were real. But if we aired a whole episode about Guzmán’s séance and the entire thing turned out to be fake, it would be disastrous for Passport to Paranormal.
CHAPTER NINE
THE GIRL IN THE MIRROR
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: ARE YOU STILL ALIVE OR WHAT?!
um. hello?? haven’t heard from you in like three days!!! D:
TELLING the rest of the cast the news about Guzmán didn’t quite get the reactions Oscar and I were expecting.
“He’s not faking anything,” Lidia said immediately. “That’s just what skeptics say when they face true paranormal activity.”
Sam nodded in agreement. “There was a presence in the catacombs with us. I sensed her.”
“Sorry, Sam, but sensing a presence won’t mean squat to Thomas Cooper,” Jess replied, massaging her temples with her fingers. Dad watched her, his brow furrowed.
“You think we should back out?” he asked.
“No.” Jess hesitated. “In fact, if none of Guzmán’s students have found any evidence, maybe we should just . . . ignore this.”
Lidia’s brows shot up. “What?”
“It’s too late to find another place to investigate.” Jess crossed her arms. “We can’t back out. If he’s faking it, he’s clearly doing a great job, so . . .”
“So you think we should air it regardless.” Lidia laughed dryly. “As long as it’s entertaining, who cares if it’s real, right?”
Oscar and I glanced nervously at one another. Jess believed in ghosts just as much as Lidia, but she’d always been more concerned with putting together a good show. Like the trick lightbulb in the pilot episode—I was willing to bet Jess and Roland had planned that without telling Lidia or Sam.
“I do care,” Jess told Lidia. “I also care about getting canceled. Our ratings are getting better, but we’re still on shaky ground with Fright TV. Look, you just said you believe Guzmán, so what’s the problem? We’re in agreement here.”
“But for different reasons,” Lidia muttered. An uncomfortable silence descended, broken by Dad.
“We do need to consider how we’re going to handle it if it does turn out Guzmán is faking it,” he pointed out. “I want to believe him, too, but just in case . . .”
Roland, who’d been silent since Oscar and I had finished telling everyone what we’d learned, finally spoke up.
“If it’s real, great,” he said flatly. “And if he’s faking it, we just expose him during filming. Either way, it’ll be one hell of an episode.”
It was a fair point, I thought. Our more skeptical fans would probably love an episode where we exposed a fake haunting. So long as it didn’t look like we were the ones faking it.
The meeting ended quickly after that. Even though everyone agreed with Roland, the atmosphere was still pretty tense. I holed myself up in Dad’s and my room with his laptop and logged into my e-mail account.
To: [email protected], [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: ARE YOU STILL ALIVE OR WHAT?!
I’M SORRY I’M SORRY I’M SORRY! It’s been a weird couple of days. How’s winter break going? Trish, are you in Florida for the holidays? Mark, is your mom baking those peppermint brownies? And can you mail a hundred or so to Buenos Aires?
Lots to catch you guys up on. Long story, but I found out today that the professor we’re featuring on the next episode—the one I mentioned in my blog post who says he’s been contacting Brunilda Cano’s ghost—might be faking it. One of his students thinks he is, anyway. And her brother and sister have been digging around for weeks trying to prove it but they can’t. Soooo . . . this episode should be interesting.
The catacombs are awesome—I’ll post some pictures tonight. We’re making another video for that web series tomorrow (woo) (/sarcasm). We decided to try contacting Brunilda. In her journal, she mentions this big willow tree in the woods behind the church where she liked to sit and read, so we’re going to take the Ouija board back there and give it a shot. Hopefully it’ll turn out as good as the first video.
I drummed my fingers on the desk, thinking. Then, after glancing quickly around my empty hotel room, I started to type fast, without giving myself time to stop and think.
Speaking of, funny story: I think Ana Arias might be possessing me. Or at least haunting me. Ever since Oscar and I contacted her, I’ve been getting anxiety attacks. At first I thought it was stage fright because I hate being on camera with the fiery passion of a million suns. But it can’t be just that, because it’s happening when we’re not even filming. And I’ve seen Ana a couple of times. I saw her at the waterfall and she looked right at me and waved. Then I saw her again—she’s on a video I took of myself practicing so I wouldn’t be so nervous on camera. She’s in the mirror behind me, just for a second. Sam said she’d have to be really unsettled about something to leave her mother and follow me. But I can’t figure out what she wants. Oscar and I found a bunch of articles about her and Flavia, but there’s just not that much personal information about Ana. Her mom did a really good job protecting her from the media. Anyway, when we contacted Ana on the Ouija, she said, “I WANT OUT,” right? Then I saw the same words all over the walls of the cave in my photos. But the words weren’t actually there. And guess what a symptom of possession is? SEEING THINGS THAT AREN’T THERE. Brunilda saw “unspeakable things no one else can see.” Lidia saw Red Leer’s SHIP when he possessed her. Right now, the only thing keeping me from totally freaking out is that I only saw that message on my camera. Levi did some weird stuff to my camera back in Crimptown—maybe Ana altered my cave photos or something? Maybe she’s not possessing me. But then again, Lidia was sick and acting all weird when she was possessed, and I keep getting these stupid panic attacks, and Oscar keeps saying I look sick. So maybe she IS possessing me?
Either way, Ana is definitely trying to tell me something, and I have no idea what.
I stopped, reading over my ramble. Then I started giggling.
I sounded nuts. Really, certifiably nuts. But the sad thing was, I meant every word.
Pulling the memory stick out of my pocket, I slid it into the laptop and opened the video of me talking into the camera. My finger hovered over the space bar, waiting, waiting . . . “Just. Freaking. Relax.” I tapped it quickly, and the video froze.
I leaned close to the screen, staring at the shape in the mirror. It was like a blurry shadow running between screen-me and the camera. Most of the pictures I’d seen of Ana showed her in a hospital gown, a scarf covering her bald head. But she’d had longer hair before the chemo treatments. If I squinted, this shadow kind of looked like she had a long ponytail.
I heard Dad’s voice in the hall and quickly closed the video, stuffing the memory stick safely back in my pocket. I waved when he came in, and he put his hand over his cell phone. “Almost done?” he mouthed, pointing to the laptop.
“One minute,” I promised, and he nodded before stepping back into the hall. Quickly, I deleted the bit with my ridiculous rant about being possessed and finished my e-mail.
Glad you guys liked the waterfall episode! I kind of hate being on TV. Like a lot. But I guess I should just try to enjoy it. Osc
ar sure is. Did you read his Rumorz interview?
Still haven’t figured out a way to tell my mom I don’t want to be a part of the Wedding from Hell. Maybe I’ll try a compromise—tell her I’ll be a bridesmaid, but only if she lets me wear a dress made out of spiderwebs, like in The Coven’s Curse. Grandma would be on board for sure. But Mom would never go for it, and then I’d be off the hook. Right? (No? Any other ideas would be appreciated.)
Miss you both,
Kat
I clicked Send, then flopped down on my bed. Dad came back in a few seconds later, still on the phone. I grabbed my headphones and iPod and scrolled through my movie selection until I found The Coven’s Curse. An hour later I was sound asleep, dreaming of spider-silk bridesmaid dresses and a featureless girl with red-and-orange flames where her eyes should have been.
CHAPTER TEN
THE OTHER DAUGHTER RETURNS
Inbox: (1 New!)
Subject: Monica tagged you in a photo album!
I GLARED at my phone, wiping the crusty sleep gunk from the corners of my eyes. No response from Trish and Mark yet. More wedding stuff from my mom. So far, this morning was not the best.
Despite my better judgment, I clicked on the link to Mom’s album. This one was called Fifteen weeks and counting! To my relief, it was mostly pictures of things like flower arrangements and decorations. No photos of me in ill-fitting dresses. I imagined what kbold04 would say about those and suppressed a shudder.
“Wedding planning?”
I jumped about a foot at the sound of Dad’s voice, then slammed the laptop shut. “No! It’s . . . um . . .”
Dad laughed a little. “Honey, calm down. It’s okay.”
“She sent me a link,” I explained, feeling dumb and guilty at the same time. “She keeps doing that, like I care what kind of cake she’s getting or whatever.”
“You know,” Dad said slowly, sitting on the edge of the bed. “It’s okay if you do care. It’s your mother’s wedding.”
I snorted. “I don’t care. I don’t even know why . . .” I stopped, staring down at my knees. I could feel Dad’s eyes on me. “Wouldn’t it bother you? Me being a bridesmaid for her? Because I won’t do it if you don’t want me to.”
“Kat, look at me.”
Grimacing, I forced myself to look up.
Dad took a deep breath. “I know you’re still angry at her, and I know you’ve been trying to work on it. Whether or not you’re in her wedding is entirely your decision—I’ll support you either way. But I need you to know that you being a part of your mother’s life isn’t betraying me at all. Okay?”
“Okay,” I mumbled. He got to his feet, kissed the top of my head, and said, “Breakfast?”
“Yeah.”
“One minute, just gotta brush my teeth.”
As soon as the bathroom door had closed behind Dad, I clicked over to my blog to check the comments on my post about the catacombs. “Seventy-three,” I murmured. “Hooray.” I scrolled quickly, not bothering to read the ones of my friends and the regular forum fans who commented. My stomach tightened as I got closer to the bottom. Sure enough, there he was.
kbold04: maybe ur the 1 whos possessed. or do u always look that disgusting
kbold04: can’t beleive u r deleting all my comments like thats gonna stop me haha
kbold04: r u a zombie? a zombie wearing a zombie shirt? lol
He’d left thirty-one comments this time. They got progressively worse as they went along. I deleted them, but not after saving a screenshot of each one to add to my collection. I knew it was stupid to let one random person get to me this much. A stranger, someone whose opinion shouldn’t even matter to me. And that’s all it was—opinions, not threats. This wasn’t like the letters Emily sent Sam, which (according to Roland) had gotten increasingly threatening. If this person was sending me stuff like that, I’d tell someone. But these comments . . . they were just words. Words I didn’t want anyone else to see. I could handle it by myself.
Dad and I didn’t talk much on the way downstairs. Trolls aside, I felt stupid for bringing the bridesmaid thing up with him. It’s not like I ever thought for a second my dad would actually tell me he didn’t want me in the wedding. I guess I just wanted someone else to make the decision for me, because I kept having the conversation with Mom in my head, and I got stuck in the same place every time.
Mom, I don’t want to be in your wedding.
Why not?
Because you and Dad just got divorced, and it’s weird. That wasn’t entirely true. I mean, it was really fast. But they’d been separated for half a year before the divorce. Mom’s engagement had shocked me at first, but that wasn’t what was really bothering me.
Because when you try to “girlify” me, it makes me feel like I’m not good enough. That was true. In fifth grade I’d been so excited about Halloween that I woke up Thursday, thought it was already Friday, and wore my zombie-clown costume to school. That whole day, I felt exactly like I did all the times Mom dressed me up: Everyone laughed when they saw me, but they also said lots of nice things about how great I looked, and then I spent the rest of the day feeling weird walking around dressed all funny when everybody else was just themselves. But that wasn’t what was really bothering me, either. I could deal with dresses and makeup for a day, even if they made me feel awkward.
Because I don’t see why I should be a part of your wedding when I’m not a part of your family. That was it. Mom used to have a husband and a daughter, but she kept leaving because she wasn’t happy. Now she had a different soon-to-be husband and a different soon-to-be daughter, and she was the happiest I’d ever seen her. Why bother reinserting myself into the picture after she’d cut me out of it?
The problem was, every time I mentally said this to Mom, my eyes got all hot and watery. If I couldn’t say it in my head without crying, no way could I get through it for real.
Maybe I could tell her in an e-mail via emojis.
“What’s so funny?” Dad asked as we walked into the breakfast room.
“Nothing.” I pressed my lips together.
After topping my stack of pancakes off with a waffle, I joined Oscar, Jamie, and Hailey at a table in the corner. We spent most of the next twenty minutes making plans for the video we were shooting this afternoon. Abril and Thiago were meeting us at the catacombs entrance, and then we were going to find the giant willow tree Brunilda mentioned in her journal. Lidia had loved the idea of featuring a few local kids in the web series, and she’d called their parents to get their permission and sent them a release waiver to sign.
At Jess’s suggestion, I’d written a short outline like she did before shooting every episode. It described how to start and end the video and what “scenes” I envisioned. Once again, I found myself kind of enjoying the work Jess and Dad did to prepare for shows. I was hoping that sharing camera time with five other people instead of just one would make this a more fun experience.
I was so caught up in what we were doing that I didn’t realize Mi Jin wasn’t with the rest of the cast at the table next to us. Not until she appeared in the entrance, cleared her throat loudly, and said: “Ta-da!”
Glancing up, I choked on a mouthful of orange juice. Mi Jin stood there, arms outstretched, beaming. And she was bald. Okay, not completely bald. More like a buzz cut, a soft fuzz of black still covering her head. She was wearing a little more eyeliner than usual, and her brow piercing really stood out now that she didn’t have bangs. Her cheekbones looked sharper, too, somehow. Or maybe that was just because she was smiling so hard.
“Gorgeous!” Jess exclaimed, just as Roland whistled. Lidia, whose mouth was full, gave her two thumbs-up, and Dad applauded. Sam squinted at Mi Jin for a few seconds before his expression cleared.
“Ah,” he said. “You shaved your head, right?”
Mi Jin snickered. “Keen observation as always, Sherlock.” She
walked over to our table and squatted between Jamie and me. “Looks like I’ve rendered Hailey speechless, but I’m not sure if that means she loves it or hates it.”
I glanced at Hailey and giggled. Her eyes were bugged out and she was digging her fingers into her cheeks, her mouth open in a silent scream.
“That means she hates it,” said Jamie immediately, which broke Hailey out of her trance.
“I do not,” she hissed, punching her brother’s arm. “It’s just . . . I . . . why did you do that? Not that I don’t like it!” she added hastily when the rest of us started laughing.
“I was telling Kat the other day that I shaved my head in high school,” Mi Jin explained. “I realized I couldn’t even remember why I ever let it grow back.” She plucked a piece of bacon off Jamie’s plate. “Plus it’s super hot here, so.”
“I think it looks great,” said Oscar, and Jamie and I nodded in agreement.
Hailey tilted her head. “I do like it,” she said at last, her tone decisive. “It looks really . . . soft. Can I feel it? Or is that weird?”
“Asking someone if you can rub their head?” Jamie asked. “No, that’s not weird at all.” Hailey stuck her tongue out at him, and Mi Jin grinned.
“Maybe later when you don’t have sticky syrup hands.”
She stood up and started to head over to the buffet. Hailey leaned closer, lowering her voice. “I can’t believe she did that!” she whispered. “I wonder what all the fans will say when they see her in the next episode?”
Glancing over at Mi Jin, I smiled. “I’m pretty sure she doesn’t care what they think,” I told Hailey before digging back into my pancakes. Suddenly, this morning didn’t seem so bad after all.
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