Final Girl - Michelle Schusterman (e ink epub reader .TXT) 📗

L.A., producing a documentary series, getting back into film. And she was obsessed with P2P, and two of her family members were part of the cast. It made perfect sense for her to actually be on the show. But even though I’d seen all her movies a million times, I’d never really thought of her as a celebrity until now. She was just . . . Grandma.

The funny thing was, she even looked more like a celebrity than like a grandmother. Her clothes were straight out of Head Turner magazine, her makeup was perfect, and now that I looked closer, I was pretty sure she’d started dyeing the gray out of her brownish-black hair.

I hadn’t seen her this glammed up in a few years, and I’d forgotten how alike she and Mom looked. Which had always struck me as weird, because their personalities couldn’t have been more different.

“Edie, your production company’s taking submissions, right?” Dad asked, nudging Mi Jin. “I think Mi Jin might have a script to show you.”

At that, Mi Jin’s face turned a nuclear shade of pink. “Oh. No. I mean, yes. I mean, I have a script, but it’s—”

“It’s so good, Grandma!” I interrupted loudly. “I read it, and the main character is awesome—she kind of reminds me of Jackie Urns in your Asylum movies—and it’s really creepy. It’s about doppelgangers. You should definitely read it.” Mi Jin gave me a surprised but grateful smile.

“I would absolutely love to,” Grandma said, and Mi Jin let out a funny little squeak that sounded like “okay.” Then Grandma’s eyes flickered over to the entrance, and her grin widened. “Aha.”

I turned to see Roland and Sam tossing their empty coffee cups in the trash can by the door before heading over to us. Grandma patted at her already-perfect hair, and I was overcome with the urge to hide behind the sofa. Oh God. Oh God. I’d forgotten about Grandma’s ridiculous crush on Sam. Not like a real crush; nothing she’d actually act on. But she definitely thought he was cute, and she wasn’t shy about saying so.

“Here they are,” Grandma announced, her voice somehow one thousand times throatier than usual. “The two reasons I watch Passport to Paranormal. No offense, Jack,” she added offhandedly.

Dad tried and failed to look offended. “Yeah, thanks, Edie.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Mills.” Roland held out his hand, and Grandma took it. “Absolutely loved your movies when I was a kid. My Girlfriend Is from Pluto ruined my teenage dating life. Haven’t had a girlfriend since.”

“Is that so? My sincerest apologies,” Grandma said, matching his solemn tone perfectly. Then she aimed her smile right at Sam. “And you? I gave my granddaughter one of my DVDs last fall hoping you’d watch it . . .”

Sam’s expression remained politely blank. “Oh?”

“I didn’t show it to him!” I looked at Dad for help, but he—everyone, actually—was too amused to notice my embarrassment. Except for Sam, of course. He just looked clueless, as usual.

“Well, maybe we can watch it together later,” Grandma said, casually linking arms with Sam. “Actually, I really think you’d be one of the few people who’d appreciate What She Sees in the Mirrors. I heard your interview on Therese Koffey’s radio show a few years ago, and that story you told about how you helped the woman who saw the reflection of her son who drowned every time she looked in a pool or bathtub was absolutely enchanting, it reminded me of . . .”

As she continued chatting up Sam (and batting her eyelashes way more than necessary), Oscar leaned closer until our arms were touching. “Your grandmother,” he whispered. “Is hitting. On Sam.”

“Shut up,” I groaned, elbowing him in the ribs for emphasis.

“No, seriously. This is like the greatest thing that’s ever happened.” His voice cracked a little, and we glanced at each other, and suddenly it was just like back in Jamie and Hailey’s apartment. Giggles rose up in my throat and I pressed my lips together hard to keep them in. Oscar turned around to hide his laughter, although his shaking shoulders gave it away.

“We’ve got a meeting in less than an hour, Edie,” I heard Dad say, and Grandma finally let go of Sam’s arm. “Should we get your stuff up to your room so we can grab lunch first?”

“Oh, I suppose.” Grandma took the handle of her suitcase, then reached out to me with her other hand. “Help me unpack, KitKat? It’ll give us a chance to catch up!”

I nodded and took her hand, still not trusting myself to speak (or look at Oscar). Dad followed us to the elevators. As soon as the doors slid closed, he turned to Grandma.

“Well,” he said with a grin. “That was shameless.”

Grandma waved a perfectly manicured hand. “Oh, please. I didn’t embarrass you, did I, Kat?” she added, eyebrows raised.

I wrinkled my nose. “You know Sam’s only interested in ghosts, right? That’s what Roland always says.” For some reason, that made Dad snort.

“Well, I suppose Roland would know,” Grandma said, examining her fingernails. “Don’t worry, sweetie. It’s just a little harmless flirting.”

“Extremely one-sided flirting,” Dad added dryly, and Grandma swatted him lightly on the head.

As soon as Grandma opened the door to her room, my mouth fell open. “You got a suite?” I hurried inside, then spun around to face Dad, spreading my arms wide. “Why does Fright TV always get us the tiny rooms? This is huge!”

It wasn’t huge, not really—the little alcove that I thought was supposed to be a living room was probably the size of Jamie and Hailey’s shower—but still.

“The network knows some of us aren’t so high maintenance,” Dad replied, looking pointedly at Grandma. She tossed her purse onto one of the beds and untied the belt on her jacket.

“Well, that’s not exactly fair,” she said. “I thought I’d have a roommate, for one thing.”

Dad’s teasing smile disappeared, replaced with a grimace. A weird, strained silence fell between them.

“Wait . . . what’s going on?” I asked. Grandma was gazing calmly at Dad, her head tilted slightly.