Graveyard Slot - Michelle Schusterman (best ebook reader for laptop .txt) 📗

him before we started filming, or bust him on camera. If they did it before, he might refuse to even hold the séance, and then pretty much everything else we’d filmed for this episode would be useless. But exposing him while filming was pretty risky, for obvious reasons. Guzmán had a lot at stake—his job, his reputation—and there was no way to predict how he’d react.

“Where are Jamie and Hailey?”

“Video chat with their mom,” Oscar replied. “Thiago and Abril went home to tell Inés about the journal. They’re coming back tonight while we’re filming, though.” He kept fidgeting in a nervous sort of way, wiping his palms on his knees, pulling at a loose thread on his shorts.

“Hey, about Thiago,” I said. “I’m sorry if I . . . I mean, I was just teasing you about the date thing. I didn’t mean to make you mad.”

Oscar smiled slightly. “You didn’t. Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay. But for what it’s worth . . .” I hesitated, chewing my lip. Oscar fell still, his eyes fixed on the table. “I think maybe he likes you,” I blurted out. “So, you know, if you like him, too, you should tell him. That’s all.”

He was still smiling, but now it looked forced. “Why, because that worked out so well last time I did it?”

“What, with Mark?” I made a face. “Come on, not everyone’s that big of a jerk.”

“I know that.”

“I’m just saying, you can’t let what happened with Mark—”

“Stop,” Oscar interrupted. “You don’t get it. It’s not like . . . like that.” He pointed at the dried-up flower Jamie had given me, which was lying on the table. “I know this stuff is easy for you and that’s great, but just . . . don’t give me advice, because it’s not the same thing. Okay?”

I swallowed hard. “Okay, fine.”

“Anyway, I need to talk to you about something else.” Oscar shifted a little, still avoiding my gaze. “When the rest of the cast gets down here, I think we have to tell them about Ana.”

“Yeah? Why?”

“If we’re going to try to get her out of your camera, it should be a part of the show.” I started to respond, but he cut me off. “I know, I know. You hate being on TV, blah blah blah. It’s a ghost-hunters show, Kat. You have to tell them about this.”

My spine stiffened. “I knew it.”

“Knew what?”

“I knew you’d do this,” I said, my voice rising a little. “That’s why I didn’t tell you about seeing Ana in the first place.”

Oscar stared at me. “You’ve seen her?”

“At the waterfall, through my camera. And guess what? Before I dropped it into the water, I had pictures of her! And pictures of I WANT OUT written all over the cave behind the falls—which she also scratched all over my bathroom a few nights ago, by the way. I even have video of her when I was practicing recording myself so I wouldn’t be so freaking nervous about being on camera. Trying to just get over it, like someone told me to do.”

“What . . . why didn’t you tell me?” He sounded more mad than hurt, which just made me even angrier.

“I wanted to tell you about it, but I knew you’d do this—force me to tell Jess all about Ana so we’d have to cover it on the show.” I was breathing heavily now, tears prickling the corners of my eyes. “Never mind that I didn’t even want to be on the stupid show in the first place.”

Oscar shook his head in disbelief. “You do realize that this whole catacombs episode might be completely ruined if it turns out Guzmán made Brunilda up, right? This story about Ana is something, at least. I can’t believe you haven’t told anyone just because you don’t like being on TV. Your dad’s job is at stake here, and my aunt’s.”

I snorted. “Please, don’t pretend that’s the reason you want to tell them. This is about you getting more camera time, more Graveyard Slot videos, more fans gushing about you and—”

“Oh my God, Kat!” Oscar yelled. “Why are you so mad about that? And who cares what the fans say?”

“Uh, you?” A dry laugh escaped my throat. “You love the attention—you’re obsessed with reading about yourself on the forums. Probably because it’s all lovey-dovey stuff that doesn’t make you hate yourself.”

Oscar’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait, are you talking about that one comment? The one that said you looked like a boy or something?”

“It was more than one,” I said defensively. “He’s been—”

“So what, a random person you don’t even know says a few mean things about you, and suddenly you’re too traumatized to be on TV?”

My face burned. “Considering you’ve been bullied, I kind of thought you’d understand.”

“You think a few stupid comments on a video is being bullied?” Oscar rolled his eyes. “Please.”

“You know what, Oscar?” I stood up, trembling. But before I could finish the thought—and I wasn’t completely sure what the thought was—the elevator doors slid open.

“They’re done!” Hailey hurried toward us, followed by Jamie. “Jess said they decided to film the séance, then pull out the journal and confront Guzmán on the show.” She danced a little on the spot. “It’s going to be dramatic, I bet . . .” Trailing off, she looked from me to Oscar. “Er, is everything okay?”

“Fine,” I said shortly, grabbing my camera. “So we’re heading to the church?”

“Yeah, Jess said they’d be down here in a few minutes.”

“I’ll meet you guys there, okay?” Without waiting for a response, I headed to the exit. I couldn’t even look at Oscar.

I was crossing the street, hanging the Elapse around my neck, when I heard someone running up behind me. “What’s going on?” Jamie asked, panting slightly. “Are you okay?”

“Fantastic,” I said. “Thanks for telling me about that jerk in the forums, by the way.”

It came out much harsher than I intended, and I forced myself to take a deep breath. I was mad at Oscar, not Jamie.

He stopped on the sidewalk, and I turned to face him. “How’d you find out