Final Girl

by Michelle Schusterman

  And she had brown skin, like me.

  That’s what was making my brain short-circuit. Because my mom and grandma were white, and I’d been on the other side of this situation a hundred times. Watching people blink in polite confusion, looking back and forth between us, trying to work out if we were really related. Sometimes it was funny to watch them act all awkward. But it got old.

  I didn’t want to do the same thing right now. So I stuck out my hand and said, “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Cooper.”

  Her eyes widened. Then she burst out laughing.

  “No, I’m Rachele!” she exclaimed. “Or, wait—oh, you were kidding! Jamie keeps talking about how funny you guys are. Mrs. Cooper,” she said, still giggling. “Yeah, as if. Come on in!”

  I exchanged a glance with Oscar and was relieved to see he looked as confused as I was. We’d known Jamie and Hailey for about three months now, and I was pretty sure they’d never mentioned anyone named Rachele.

  We followed her inside, and Oscar coughed loudly—to cover his surprise, I assumed. I had to consciously close my mouth before Rachele saw me gaping again. Because I’d never been in an apartment like this.

  It wasn’t particularly large, but the massive windows, high ceilings, and mirrored cabinets gave the impression of a ton of space. The wood floors were polished so much I could see my own reflection, and the sofa and armchairs were so bright-white I found it hard to believe anyone had ever actually sat on them. A massive rectangular chandelier hung overhead, hundreds of strands of crystals catching the sunlight streaming in from the windows. I spotted the kitchen on the other side of the room and was momentarily surprised at how small it was . . . and then I realized it was a bar, complete with a sink, a small refrigerator, and a shelf lined with all sorts of bottles, along with fancy-looking glasses in all shapes and sizes.

  “I think the kids are in Jamie’s room,” Rachele said, already heading down the hallway to the right. “Make yourselves at home!”

  I waited until she was out of sight before turning to Oscar. His eyes were bugging out of his head.

  “What?” he said, gesturing around. “What?”

  I giggled. “So I guess your place in Oregon isn’t like this?”

  “Um, no?” Oscar pointed at the wall of windows. The view was overwhelming; we were high enough to see all the way across Central Park to the buildings on the other side. “This is . . . I mean, is your house anything like this?”

  I snorted. “No. It’s bigger, but it’s . . .” I pictured the scratchy blue carpet, the beige couch we’d had since I was six, the wallpaper along the staircase that was so scuffed up that the diamond pattern was indistinguishable in some places. “Well, kind of a dump, compared to this. Although weirdly enough, I do have that exact chandelier in my bedroom.”

  Oscar’s lips twitched, but he nodded solemnly. “What a coincidence. I’ve got that statue in my bathroom.” He pointed to a large figurine on the fireplace mantel of a woman riding a horse. “Right on top of the toilet . . . wait.”

  There was a second of silence as we both realized the statue-woman was completely naked. Then we started laughing. The silent kind, where you’re trying so hard to hold it in, tears leak out of your eyes instead. I heard footsteps and swatted Oscar’s arm, trying to get myself under control, too.

  “You’re here!” Hailey squealed, flying across the room and tackling me in a hug. As soon as she pulled away, I wiped my eyes and cleared my throat.

  “It’s only been two days since—oof!” Oscar winced as Hailey threw her arms around him. My rib cage ached in sympathy. Hailey’s hugs were no joke.

  “Hey, guys,” Jamie said. He and Rachele joined us, and although he was smiling, I couldn’t help noticing he looked a little more subdued than usual. Like he was nervous.

  “Hi!” I said a little too brightly, purposefully turning away from the statue. “Your apartment is amazing.”

  “Really amazing,” Oscar added, his voice cracking a bit. Giggles bubbled up in my throat again, and I pressed my lips together, horrified. I couldn’t stand the thought of hurting Jamie’s and Hailey’s feelings. Not that Oscar and I had said anything mean about their apartment . . . but somehow, I knew that if they’d heard what we’d been saying, they wouldn’t find it as funny.

  Jamie’s cheeks were pink. “Thanks. So, you guys ready?”

  “What’s the rush?” Rachele exclaimed. “Oscar, Kat, do you guys want a drink? Snack? We’ve got carob bars—they’re gluten-free—and I think there’s some prosciutto rolls in the fridge . . .”

  “That’s okay,” I said quickly. Jamie’s expression was even more awkward now, and even though I wasn’t looking at Oscar, I had the strong sense he was trying to hold back more laughter. Probably because I was, too. “We should really start filming. But thanks!”

  “Any time!” Rachele followed us to the front door. “Well, I hope I get to spend more time with you guys later. Between the show, your blog, and everything Jamie and Hailey have told me, I feel like I know you both so well!”

  She waved, then closed the door, leaving the four of us out in the hall.

  “She’s really nice,” Oscar said as we headed for the elevator. “So, um . . . who is she?”

  Now even Hailey looked a little uneasy. “She’s our nanny.”

  “Oh! I didn’t . . .” I hesitated. A nanny? I thought that was only for really little kids. But saying that out loud seemed rude.

  Oscar broke the awkward silence. “Like Mary Poppins?” he joked, and Jamie and Hailey looked even more uncomfortable. Oscar cast me a worried look as Jamie pressed the down button for the elevator. “I was just kidding . . .”

  “You guys never mentioned her before,” I said lightly. “She seems really cool!”

  “She is,” Jamie replied, not quite meeting my eyes. “Our parents hired her a few years ago, when things started getting really busy at both their jobs. They’re not home a lot.”

  “It probably seems so dumb to you guys,” Hailey added, stepping onto the elevator. “You’re both traveling all over the world, doing all this crazy stuff, and our parents don’t even trust us to make our own dinner or get to school by ourselves.”

  “It’s not dumb!” I said quickly. “Besides, my dad can be really strict, too. Remember what happened in Crimptown, when I saw Sonja? Dad was so mad after that, he and Lidia said we couldn’t even watch them film the next episode.”

  “But you did anyway,” Hailey said, her expression equal parts admiration and jealousy. “You snuck out of the hotel and went all the way out to that prison, even though you knew Emily was probably there. You guys are really brave.”

  Now Oscar looked uncomfortable. “And really stupid. She attacked us.”

  “And you should’ve heard the huge lecture my dad gave me after that,” I said. “He almost quit the show, he was so upset!”

  “Yeah, Aunt Lidia was seriously considering making me move back in with my other aunt,” Oscar said, making a face. “Which would’ve meant going back to my old school. Ugh.”

  Jamie finally looked up. “But instead, they put you both on the show,” he pointed out with a grin. “So now it’s your actual job, sneaking around haunted places.”

  I laughed. “Okay, true—but we’re literally not allowed to take one step away from the group without an adult coming with us.”

  The elevator doors slid open. Hailey led the way toward the manually operated elevator across the lobby, Oscar right behind her. Jamie tugged my arm, and we hung back.

  “Did you tell Oscar the plan?” he asked. To my relief, he didn’t look embarrassed anymore.

  “Not yet,” I said. “He needs to focus on hosting, and trying to contact the doorman’s ghost. If I can’t do this thoughtography thing, this still has to be a decent episode. I’ll tell him when we’re finished.”

  After we’d left the museum, Jamie h
ad suggested I try projecting the Thing into the video for Graveyard Slot. He figured if I could control it, then that meant I could get rid of it. Neither of us was sure exactly how, but we’d worry about that later.

  “Oscar! Kat!”

  The four of us stopped and stared at the woman stalking across the lobby, another half a dozen people hurrying along in her wake. Behind them, the doorman was watching closely, his eyes narrowed.

  “Do you know her?” Jamie whispered, and I shook my head. She was tall, blond, way too tanned for January, and totally unfamiliar. Beaming, she stuck out her hand at Oscar, who shook it, looking completely bewildered.

  “Shelly Mathers, Rumorz. It’s so good to finally meet you!” Her teeth gleamed like Tic Tacs.

  Oscar’s expression cleared. “Oh! Hi, Ms. Mathers!” Already, I could see him turning on his TV-show personality. While I kind of hated being on TV, Oscar loved it. He’d even done a phone interview with Shelly back when we were in South America.

  “Oh, it’s just Shelly, please.” She gripped my hand next, and I winced. “Kat Sinclair, at last. And you must be Jamie and Hailey Cooper!”

  “Yeah.” Jamie kept his hands in his pockets and took a protective step in front of his sister. He regarded Shelly with a cool, almost suspicious look that surprised me. Usually Jamie was nice to pretty much everybody.

  Shelly, apparently unfazed, gestured to the people behind her. They all looked younger than her, maybe in college or even high school, and I realized a few of them were wearing P2P hats or shirts. “Apparently I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t resist meeting you all. I assume you don’t mind?” she added, aiming her blinding smile at me. “You did mention on your blog you’d be filming the next episode of Graveyard Slot today. Can’t blame your fans for taking the opportunity to meet you!”

  I forced myself to smile back, but my stomach was tense. “I didn’t mention where we were filming, though. How’d you find us?”

  “Oh, it was easy enough to find you.” Shelly pulled out her smartphone, tapped it a few times, then held it out to record us. “So! Can you give us a little inside scoop? What kind of spooky stuff happens here at the Montgomery?”

  She was looking at Oscar, as was everybody else. He was the host of our vlog, while I did all the behind-the-camera work. And normally, Oscar ate up this kind of stuff. But now he looked uncertain.

  “Well,” he said, glancing hesitantly at Jamie. “See that elevator over there? It’s the original, built in 1910 and preserved during this building’s renovation a few decades ago.” His voice grew stronger, more confident. “In 1947, there was a massive blizzard. Some of the gears froze, and the elevator operator was trapped between the top two floors. Before they could rescue him, the cable snapped and the car plummeted all the way to the basement. According to”—he faltered for a moment, glancing at Hailey—“some tenants, the operator’s ghost still haunts the elevator.”

  A few of the fans had pulled out their phones, too, and I realized they were all recording and taking photos. My skin prickled, and my palms felt damp. I hated being on camera. And these people seemed perfectly nice, but it was a little creepy knowing they’d read about this on my blog and then come here just to see us. Not to mention Shelly. I shot a nervous glance at Jamie, but he was still glowering at the reporter. Hailey had stepped away from him and started gesturing at the doorman, who nodded and pulled out his walkie-talkie.

  Shelly didn’t notice. “Fascinating story,” she was saying. “Can’t wait for the vlog! So I hear you’re taking off for China next?” Oscar nodded, but Shelly went on before he could say anything. “And then the finale will be in South Korea. Rumor has it you’ve got a big guest star planned. Any chance you can give my readers a little hint as to who that might be?”

  “We honestly haven’t heard anything about a guest star,” Oscar said. “Sorry.” I squinted at him; he’d gone pale, his TV personality totally vanished.

  “Aw.” Shelly pouted in a way she obviously thought was cute. “Well, feel free to drop me an e-mail if you hear anything. And speaking of rumors, Kat, is it true your dad isn’t coming back next season? The old host curse back in action, huh?”

  Suddenly, all eyes—and phone cameras—were on me. Anxiety washed over me in a quick wave, and I clenched my fists.

  “Actually, my dad turned in his contract to Fright TV this morning. Did you hear that rumor? Or did you start it?”

  My voice came out way more aggressive than I’d intended. But I couldn’t help it. I’d never really liked Shelly Mathers’s articles, but this was different. She was cornering us into an interview without even asking if we wanted to give one. There was no way she’d ever do that with Dad or the rest of the crew . . . because they were adults.

  They would be furious when they found out she’d done this. Somehow, that realization made me feel a little braver.

  Shelly’s eyes hardened, although she kept smiling. “Oh, Kat, I’m so glad to hear that. We’d hate to lose Jack Sinclair, wouldn’t we?” she added over her shoulder, and several of the fans nodded fervently. “So I guess we don’t need to worry about the fact that he’s currently discussing joining Live with Wendy as co-host?”

  I just stared at her, mouth hanging open. Live with Wendy was a local talk show that filmed in Cincinnati—only about an hour from Chelsea. But Dad hadn’t said a word to me about a job offer. Shelly was just making stuff up. She must be.

  Except . . . why would a reporter in New York know anything about a talk show back in Ohio?

  “He’s . . . I . . . no.” My tongue felt too thick in my mouth. “He’s not leaving Passport to Paranormal.”

  Eyebrows raised, Shelly waved her phone. “Good to know. I’ll quote you on that.”

  “Um . . .” I shook my head, vaguely panicked. “I’d rather not—”

  “Excuse me,” a voice interrupted, and we all turned to see a security guard standing behind the fans. She was a good head shorter than Shelly, but stared her down with a look so fierce, the fans around her all took a step back. Shelly smoothly pocketed her phone as she turned around.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m going to have to ask you all to leave,” the security guard said. “Only tenants and their guests are allowed in this building.”

  Shelly gave a little laugh that made the hairs on my arms stand on end. “Oh, fine. I’m sure I’ll catch them later.” She winked at Oscar before following the fans to the exit, where the doorman was waiting. Oscar’s charming on-camera smile was back, but he watched her warily. One of the fans, a teenage girl about my height wearing a T-shirt that said #TeamSamland, lingered behind. She glanced hesitantly at the security guard before holding out a glossy photograph and a Sharpie to me.

  “Sorry, I just . . . I was wondering if I could get your autograph?”

  My face burned. “What? Seriously?”

  “Yeah!” She waved the photograph, which I recognized from the P2P website. It was a promo shot the cast had taken on the boardwalk in Rotterdam, right after Dad had joined. “I’ve been watching Passport since it started, but it’s so much better with you and Oscar. And I love your blog!”

  The security guard still had her eye on Shelly’s retreating back, but she made a gesture at me that said “go ahead.” I took the paper and pen, unable to think of a reason to say no. “Oh. Thanks.” I scribbled my name on the bottom right corner, and she bounced up and down on her toes.

  “Thank you so much! Oscar, can I get yours, too?”

  “Sure!” Oscar said eagerly, taking the photo and marker from me. “What’s your name?”

  “Laurie!”

  I watched as Oscar wrote For Laurie: Believe! Oscar Bettencourt in big, sprawling script, and rolled my eyes. Of course Oscar had perfected an autograph. I wondered if he’d practiced it before.

  “Hey, Kat,” Laurie said. “What did you mean about meeting the real you?”
<
br />   I blinked. “Huh?”

  She took the photo and marker from Oscar. “You know, that comment you left on Shelly’s poll this morning? The one about who people wanted to see as a guest star on the finale? Something like ‘you won’t care once you meet the real me’?”

  “Sorry, I don’t—”

  “Okay, that’s enough,” the security guard interjected, and Laurie blushed.

  “Sorry! Thank you! It was great to meet you both!”

  She hurried across the lobby and out the doors, where her friends were waiting. Shelly was nowhere in sight.

  “Thanks, Kim,” Jamie said to the security guard, who smiled at him.

  “No problem. I’m going to have to tell your parents about this, okay?” Kim glanced at the door again. “What was that reporter’s name again?”

  “Shelly Mathers.” Hailey made a face. “From Rumorz. I liked her better before I met her in person.”

  I glanced at Oscar, who had gone silent after Laurie left. He was the one who’d kept reaching out to Shelly, agreeing to her interviews. But clearly this little incident had made even him uncomfortable. After Dad and Lidia found out, there was no way they’d ever agree to more Rumorz interviews.

  My stomach clenched as I remembered something else. I’d told Shelly my dad definitely wasn’t leaving the show. I’ll quote you on that. But what if it wasn’t true? What if she published it, and it turned out my dad actually was taking some job in Ohio?

  No way, I told myself firmly. He would never keep something that huge from me. And besides, his contract had been gone this morning. It was fine. I had nothing to worry about.

  “Kat? Ready?”

  Jamie’s voice interrupted my thoughts, and I realized Oscar and Hailey were already heading for the elevator. “Oh! Yeah, coming.”

  I pulled out my Elapse as I walked, trying to focus on the Thing. But I couldn’t stop thinking about what I’d told Shelly Mathers. If she was going to publish what I’d said, I had to warn my dad. Which meant we were finally going to have the conversation we’d been avoiding about our plans after the season finale.