Dead Air by Michelle Schusterman (best books under 200 pages txt) 📕

tons of other interesting threads, too. The forums were organized by season and episode, but also by topic. The most popular thread was about Sam and Roland—or “Samland,” which made me snort my soda. I wondered if Roland knew about that particular nickname.

As much as I wanted to just sit in that cushy chair and bask in an Internet glow all day, I didn’t think Dad would appreciate me blowing twenty euros here when he had a laptop (no matter how clunky and slow it was). So when my hour was up, I logged off and headed back to the hotel. I found Dad in our room, studying his laptop screen.

“Hi, Dad.”

“Hey, sweetie,” he said distractedly.

I flopped back on my bed. “What’s that?”

“Just reading up on the local history.” He smiled, eyes still on the screen. “Crimptown is fascinating, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” I yawned widely. “Hey, Dad?”

“Mmhmm?”

I paused, trying to think of how to ask the question. Why’d you choose this job? But that would only lead to more questions I wasn’t sure I wanted answered. Why do you want to chase ghosts? What if Mom decides to come back?

Did she leave because of the Thing?

“Kat?”

I glanced over to find him staring at me in concern.

“Um . . . can I use the laptop when you’re done?”

“Of course.”

He turned back to the screen and started pecking away at the keyboard. Within a minute, I was sound asleep.

CHAPTER SIX

WHAT LURKS IN THE CYBERSHADOWS

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: This whole curse thing

Hi, Grandma,

I found the P2P forums (those people are kind of insane btw). What did you think of the other hosts? Roland said Emily Rosinski was a nutjob because she had a huge crush on Sam. Do you think maybe they’ve been firing the hosts just so fans will think the show is cursed? I don’t want that to happen to Dad. Pretty sure he’s not ready to go home yet.

Love, Kat

“You know what?”

Mi Jin and I both glanced up. Oscar was sprawled out on an old sofa, lazily kicking the door to the theater’s projection room in a steady rhythm. Thud. Thud. Thud.

“What?” Mi Jin swiveled away from the laptop, one hand still on the keyboard.

Oscar tapped his math sheet with his pencil. “There are fifty-three questions on this.”

“And?”

“And I think that’s irrational.”

Mi Jin laughed. I rolled my eyes, focusing on my own sheet. I’d slept a record-setting eleven hours straight last night, but it still didn’t feel like enough. When I’d woken up at seven this morning—with no alarm, which was pretty freaky—I felt great. But the closer we got to lunchtime, the more I wanted to crawl back into bed.

A few minutes passed, during which I tried to ignore the fact that my eyelids were beginning to droop. Suddenly, Oscar dropped his pencil on the floor next to me.

“Done.” He leaned over, and I shifted in my spot so he couldn’t see my work and stared resolutely at the page.

1.92 − 5.6

A) integer

B) rational

C) irrational

“You’re not done yet?”

I pressed my lips together. “No.”

Oscar sighed wearily. “Are you at least close?”

I ignored him, and after a few seconds, he leaned back on the sofa.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

“Could you maybe quit that?” I asked through gritted teeth.

“Quit what?”

Thud. Thud. Thud.

“That,” I said sharply, flipping my page over. “And by the way, fifty-three is a rational number.”

Oscar groaned. “I know. It was a joke. Man, you have no sense of humor.”

“I do, actually.” I punched a few keys on my calculator. “I laugh when something’s funny.”

Thud. Thud. Thud.

“Oscar, I swear to—”

“Okay,” Mi Jin cut in loudly. “It’s almost time for lunch—Oscar, will you go see if Lidia’s ordered anything yet?”

“Sure.” Swinging his legs off the sofa, Oscar stood and stretched. “Let me know if you need help with that,” he said, then sauntered out of the room before I could think of a response.

I stared after him in disbelief, then realized Mi Jin was giggling. “Sorry,” she said quickly. “You two really push each other’s buttons, huh?”

“He’s just. So. Obnoxious.” I set my pencil on the floor next to me and rubbed my eyes. “I mean, seriously. I’ve never met anyone so annoying, it’s like he—”

“Kat,” Mi Jin interrupted. I lowered my hands to find Lidia in the doorway, and my face went hot.

“Oh . . . hi.”

Smiling, Lidia walked over to the desk and started rifling through a folder. “Talking about my nephew?”

“Well . . .” I hesitated. “Yeah. Sorry.”

She laughed. “It’s okay. Although I promise he’s usually a nice kid. He’s just had a rough time this year.”

“He said he got expelled for fighting?” Mi Jin asked, and I glanced up.

Lidia nodded. “Yeah. Poor thing . . . lots of bullying at his school.”

I snorted quietly, hiding my face behind my worksheet. It was pretty much impossible to imagine someone as arrogant as Oscar getting bullied. He seemed more likely to be a bully himself.

“Kat, do you need any help with that?” Mi Jin asked, pulling her hair back into a ponytail and pointing at my worksheet with her boot.

“Nah, thanks. I’ve only got four problems left.”

“Just leave it in the folder when you’re done, okay?”

“Okay.”

I stared at the same problem, the numbers swimming in front of my eyes. I was so taking a nap after lunch. My head felt like it was stuffed with tissue, and a muffled beeping sound filled my ears. It was a few seconds before I realized it was coming from Lidia.

“Sorry,” she said, pulling her phone out of her pocket and silencing the alarm. “Just a reminder to take my pills.” Setting the folder down, she unzipped a small purple bag next to the laptop and took out a bottle.

“Are you sick?” I asked, watching as she shook a few pills into her hand.

Taking a swig of water, Lidia popped the pills and swallowed. “A minor heart problem. Nothing serious.”

My eyes widened in surprise. “Heart problems? Aren’t you a little young for that?” I winced as soon as the words were out of my mouth, but Lidia just smiled.

“It’s a condition I was born with,” she