Graveyard Slot, Michelle Schusterman [top novels to read txt] 📗

“Stuff?”

“About me,” he said, and my heart sank. “Words. Jokes. You know. All printed in a giant font you could pretty much see from space. Then they stuffed them all in my locker so when I got to school that morning and opened it, the notes came falling out in front of everyone.”

I let out a long, slow breath. “That’s . . . horrible.”

“Yeah. The stupid thing is, I kept them.”

I looked at him sharply. “You what?”

“I stuffed them all in my gym bag, brought them home, and kept them under my bed.” Oscar sounded almost amused. “Isn’t that dumb? And I read them. Like, a lot.” I just stared at him, unable to respond. “They kept doing it, too, because I never showed a teacher or anyone. I didn’t want people seeing that stuff. So they knew it was getting to me, but they knew they weren’t going to get in trouble, either, because I was too . . . because I wouldn’t rat them out. But I was getting angrier and angrier, and one day I was done with it, I guess. I went and found Mark after lunch, and I wasn’t really thinking. I just went up to him and . . . punched him. Broke his nose.”

He glanced at me nervously. When I didn’t say anything, he continued.

“A teacher broke it up before he could hit me back. I had to talk to everyone—the principal, counselor—and they kept asking why I did it. But, you know, I didn’t want to tell them about everything. So I got expelled and Mark didn’t.”

“Oscar . . .”

“I know, the notes,” Oscar interrupted. His words were spilling out faster now, a fresh tear slipping down his cheek. “My aunt found them, like, a month later. She was furious, because I had proof Mark had provoked me and I never showed the principal. Not that it was an excuse for hitting him, but at least they’d know the reason. She was even angrier when she realized I kept them because I still read them.”

“Why?” My voice cracked on the question. Probably because I knew the answer. But I wanted to hear him explain it. “Why were you still reading them?”

Oscar picked up a stick and started digging a small hole in the dirt. “I don’t know. My aunt told me when someone says the worst things we think about ourselves, we start thinking that means it’s all true. And . . . I guess that’s right. Because the stuff in those notes, they made me hate Mark . . . but they made me hate myself even more.” The stick snapped in two, and he tossed it onto the grass. “I couldn’t stop reading them because they made me think I was right to hate myself. Doesn’t make any sense, I know.”

“Um . . .” I wiped my eyes before pulling my phone out of my pocket. “Actually, I . . .” Pressing my lips together, I opened my photo album and found the first kbold04 screenshot. Hesitantly, I handed it to Oscar.

He squinted at the screen. “What’s . . . wait, this is that comment you told me about?”

“That’s the second one,” I said. “I deleted it. There’s more, though.”

Oscar started swiping, pausing to read each screenshot. “How many are there?”

Fifty-three. “Um . . . around fifty, I think.”

“Did you show your dad?”

I snorted. “My blog still exists, doesn’t it? Obviously I didn’t tell him.”

“Maybe you should, though.” Oscar paused on one of the most vulgar comments, his mouth dropping open.

“He never makes threats or anything,” I said quickly. “It’s not like—like the letters Emily sent Sam.”

“So? That doesn’t make this okay.” Oscar flipped to the next screenshot, his expression growing increasingly darker. Then he turned to face me. “Wait, you don’t believe what he’s saying, do you?”

“You believed your notes.” I blinked as my eyes filled with tears again.

“Yeah, and my aunt made me throw them away because they were garbage,” Oscar said firmly. “So are these comments. None of this is true, Kat. I’m deleting them, okay?”

I nodded, because I didn’t trust myself to speak. I stared down at my feet as Oscar went through the whole album, tapping with a bit more force than was necessary. When he finished, he practically shoved my phone back at me.

“Thanks.” I took it, frowning. “Are you mad at me?”

“No.” Oscar paused. “Okay, maybe a little. Mostly I’m mad at whoever that idiot is. And at myself. If I’d known about . . .” He gestured at the screen, brow furrowed. “I mean, no wonder you were acting so weird about Graveyard Slot, if that person kept leaving comments like that. I’m really sorry I—”

“You didn’t know,” I said. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay.” He glanced at me. “Will you tell me if you get more?”

“Yeah.”

Hesitating, I held my hand out, palm up. Oscar took it, interlacing our fingers, and I ignored the faint throbbing of the cut I’d gotten from the tree. “We should probably get back,” I said. “Do you think anyone’s even noticed we’re missing yet?”

“Probably not.” He clasped my hand tightly as we headed across the clearing. “It was getting pretty chaotic down there. Hey, why’d you come out to the tree, anyway?”

“Chasing a ghost,” I said lightly. “What else?”

Oscar raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? Wait, was it Ana?”

“Nope.” I told him everything that had happened, starting with the mirror girl in the sacristy. “And that message on the tree, you saw it. I got out. So if she was in my camera, whoever she is, she’s not there anymore.”

“But if it’s not Ana, who is it?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. It bothered me more than I wanted to let on to Oscar. I’d been so close to finally discovering her identity before he showed up. But it was okay. I had the feeling she was ready for me to know now. I’d get another chance soon, and I wasn’t afraid anymore.

“Oh,” I said. “I did figure something out down in the catacombs. Check this out.” I flipped the Elapse on and held it up. Oscar kept glancing at it as we continued