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

“Well, there’s this supernatural museum I’ve been to a few times, and right now they’ve got a psychic photography exhibit, and—”

“A what?” I interrupted, suddenly much more awake.

Jamie grinned. “Physic photography. It’s when the image in a photo appears through telepathy, not because it was actually there when the picture was taken. Supposedly it’s even possible with video.”

“Wait, you mean, like, someone projects the image onto the photo with their thoughts?”

“Yup.”

My mind started racing. The video I’d taken on my Elapse, when the Thing had appeared like a shadow in the mirror . . . when I’d seen her through the viewfinder across the pool and in the sacristy . . .

“Hailey’s the one who found out about the exhibit,” Jamie was saying. “So she got our mom to e-mail the director a few days ago, and she ended up arranging a private demonstration for us with the photographer on Saturday. And, um . . . do you want to go?”

“Um, yeah,” I said fervently. “That’s a great idea for the web series! Hailey’s really good at this; I should ask if she wants to help me research for some of my other posts.”

“Oh.” Jamie’s eyes widened. “Um. Actually, I meant . . . do you want to go with me? As, like, a second date kind of thing.”

He sounded nervous, and for a few seconds I managed to forget about ghosts and photos. “Yes. Yes, I definitely want to do that.”

Jamie beamed. “Okay! Just to be clear, Hailey isn’t actually going with us.”

“Got it,” I said, trying not to laugh. “Your sister doesn’t go on your dates, she just plans them.”

“Yeah, she’s obsessed with the whole matchmaking thing. She wasn’t joking about Natalie Blackwell, either,” Jamie added, lowering his voice. “You might want to warn Oscar.”

“Natalie?” I frowned. “Oh, that girl who came to your viewing party?”

“Yeah.” Jamie shrugged. “She’s nice and all. But Hailey’s not always good at this. Natalie might not be his type.” It might have been my imagination, but I thought I saw him glance briefly at Thiago.

I’d meant it when I told Oscar that I suspected Thiago might like him. Had Jamie noticed, too? I couldn’t ask him, obviously. After everything Oscar had confided in me last night about Mark, I didn’t want to give him any more unwanted advice. But we were leaving for the airport in a few minutes. If Oscar had decided to talk to Thiago, I could at least make it a little easier. After all, he’d gone along with Hailey’s plan to send Jamie and me on a date.

Mr. Cooper was just heading outside with Dad and Jess, while Roland and Sam were loading the second rental van. I quickened my pace, handing Jamie my napkin filled with croissants. “Can you hold these for a sec?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks. Hey, Hailey!” I said, grabbing the handle of Oscar’s suitcase with my free hand. “Mi Jin promised to let us borrow two comics each for the flight. Want to come pick them out with me?”

Hailey’s face lit up. “Okay!” She took off like a shot through the doors, and I followed, silently willing Jamie to come with me. “See you guys outside!”

Jamie pushed through the doors and held them open. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Oscar watching me, eyes slightly narrowed. I gave him my best attempt at a supportive-but-not-pushy smile, and then the doors swung shut.

After tossing Oscar’s and my suitcases into the pile of bags Roland was still loading into the second van, I joined Hailey in the backseat. Jamie squeezed in next to me, and we started rifling through Mi Jin’s for-comics-only backpack. She hopped on the van a minute later, snatching the bag out of Hailey’s lap.

“I took the liberty of carefully curating a few personal recommendations,” she informed us, carefully pulling out eight issues. “These two are Oscar’s . . . Hailey, these are yours . . . Jamie . . . and Kat.” Mi Jin handed me two Guardians of the Galaxy comics with a gracious smile. “Moondragon. You’re welcome.”

“Thanks,” I said eagerly. Roland was climbing into the van in front of us, followed by Jess. Dad waved at me before getting in behind her. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Lidia shaking hands with Professor Guzmán. She called, “Let’s go, Oscar!” before hopping into the front seat of our van next to the driver.

Oscar hurried out of the lobby, and I quickly turned my attention back to my comic. I sneaked a peek at him when he sat next to Mi Jin and pulled the van door closed, but his expression was impossible to read.

For most of the ride to the airport, Mi Jin told us about the next few episodes they were planning—a haunted bridge in China and an abandoned asylum in South Korea—but I barely listened. I was thinking about Jamie’s explanation of psychic photography and how Sam had told Roland “not believing is just as powerful as believing.” I believed in the Thing, and she appeared in my camera. She got out, and now she was real. She’d even left a comment on my last blog post. I GOT OUT.

But if I stopped believing in her . . .

I squeezed my eyes closed, fighting the urge to laugh. Maybe I really was losing my mind. Stop believing in the Thing, and she won’t exist! Tinker Bell is dying, so clap if you believe in fairies! But crazy or not, I’d have to figure out some way to get rid of the Thing once and for all.

I’d just started to doze off when we pulled up to the airport. Groggily, I followed everyone through all the baggage check-in lines, security lines, and customs lines. I thought I was doing a pretty good job hiding my exhaustion, but when we finally got to our gate, Dad pulled me aside.

“What’s going on, Kat?”

“What?” I dropped my backpack onto one of the hard plastic chairs. “Nothing! Why?”

“Roland told me you were crying about something last night,” Dad said, eyes filled with concern. “But you wouldn’t say what.