Graveyard Slot by Michelle Schusterman (classic children's novels .TXT) 📕

My mother had said that at least a hundred times last week. It was like after six months of not speaking, she had to let out all the criticism she’d been storing up. Every time she said it, it took everything I had not to retort, I know there’s nothing wrong with that. There’s nothing wrong with being me, either.

But staring at kbold04’s comment, I started to wonder if maybe I was wrong, after all.

“Hey, Kat!”

Gasping, I swiveled in my chair to find Mi Jin in the doorway. “Oh!” My voice came out kind of squeaky. “Hi! What’s up?”

“I was just heading downstairs to get some dinner and saw your door open,” Mi Jin said, glancing at my laptop. Her face lit up when she saw the video. “Oh hey—you posted it! Any comments yet?”

“Um . . . yeah.”

I stood up and went to sit on the bed so Mi Jin could read through the comments. “Aw, Jamie and Hailey are so funny,” she said, smiling. “I can’t wait to see them next week . . . Heh, that Cohort dude from the forums thinks you guys faked the Ouija thing, what a shocker . . .”

My heart pounded faster as I waited for her to see it. A few seconds later, the smile faded from her face.

“Ugh, freaking trolls,” she muttered. “Loser. Do you want me to . . .” Trailing off, Mi Jin squinted at me. “Kat? You okay?”

I shrugged. “Yeah, fine.” My eyes felt dangerously hot, so I fixed my attention on the bedspread.

“Hey.” Mi Jin scooted the chair over until she was right in front of me. “That comment didn’t get to you, did it? Kat, that’s just a stupid troll.”

“I know.”

“They say mean stuff just for fun.”

“I know.”

“You’re one of the most confident, awesome kids I’ve ever met,” Mi Jin said. “You and Oscar both. I hate seeing the dumb things people say hurt you guys like this.”

I wrinkled my nose. “What are you talking about? The fans all love him.”

“I meant . . . never mind.” Leaning forward, Mi Jin nudged my knees with hers. “Look. Are you a girl?”

“Yeah,” I said, startled.

“Then you look like a girl,” Mi Jin said firmly. She scooted back over to the laptop and started clicking. “You look like you, and you’re the only person who gets to decide who that is. The end. I’m deleting that stupid comment.”

As I watched her, the knot in my chest loosened a little bit. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.” Closing the laptop, she faced me again. “Did I ever tell you about the time I cosplayed as Moondragon at Comic-Con when I was sixteen?”

“Who?”

Her eyes widened. “Moondragon! Avengers? Guardians of the Galaxy? Argh—okay, I have some comics you need to read. Mandatory.” She nodded decisively. “Anyway. So I put together a pretty decent costume: green bathing suit, green boots, green cape with a really high collar. I got a bald cap, because Moondragon is bald, right? But it looked super fake. So I shaved my head.”

My mouth fell open. “You did?”

“Yep,” Mi Jin said proudly. “My parents were furious, and I couldn’t figure out why. I mean, it’s my head. Moondragon was bald, and I wanted to look like her. Even my best friend was like, ‘But people will think you’re a boy!’”

“And it didn’t bother you?” I asked.

Mi Jin shrugged. “Nope. Why should it? Their mistake, not mine. I liked how it looked, honestly.” She paused, running her fingers through her hair. “Maybe I should go back to that. My mom would freak.”

I giggled. “My mom always hated my costumes, too. I was Dracula when I was seven, and Grandma helped me make my costume. It was awesome. A bunch of neighbors didn’t even recognize me! I remember Mrs. Vesky down the street saying, ‘And who’s this little boy?’ Drove my mom nuts, but I loved it. Isn’t the point of a costume to fool people into thinking you’re someone else?”

“Totally!” Mi Jin beamed.

“Elena’s going through a princess phase,” I told her. “My mom loves it.”

“Who?”

I immediately regretted bringing her up. “My mom’s fiancé’s daughter. Hey, want to get some dinner?”

Mi Jin studied me for a few seconds before responding. “Sure, yeah.”

I stood and headed to the door, saying a silent thanks that Mi Jin hadn’t pressed me to talk more about Elena. What she said about not letting other people decide who you are made a whole lot of sense. Besides, Grandma liked makeup and dresses and all that, but she never, ever made me feel bad for not liking them, too.

Still, I couldn’t stop thinking about that comment, and I couldn’t help wondering if there’d be more . . . especially if I ended up on television after all.

CHAPTER FOUR THE ONLY THING MISSING IS A MANIAC WITH A CHAINSAW

Post: The Lost Campers of Chapada Diamantina

Tomorrow morning, the P2P crew is heading to Chapada Diamantina National Park, about a five-hour drive from Salvador. We’re going to camp out overnight near a waterfall where three teens died in the summer of 1974.

According to the locals my dad interviewed yesterday, this group of friends went camping the weekend after school let out. When they packed up to leave, they realized they’d lost their hiking trail map. They tried to find their way, but they kept circling back to the waterfall. Soon they ran out of food.

It was weeks before authorities found their bodies. They also found their footprints circling the area over and over again. Ever since then, other campers have reported feeling a strong sense of fear and panic near the waterfall. Some even claim to hear the frantic whispers of the teens as they wander through the trees, lost.

Sam believes the waterfall might be an example of a residual haunting. That’s when the emotions of the people who died are trapped in an energy field and the event is “replayed” again and again, as though it’s on a loop. If he’s right, that means we won’t actually see the ghosts of the lost campers, since this type of