Dead Air by Michelle Schusterman (best books under 200 pages txt) đź“•
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- Author: Michelle Schusterman
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Mi Jin trailed off. The room fell silent as realization dawned, and I sighed, bracing myself. Oscar was the first to say it.
“Katya?”
Giving him an innocent look, I ripped open another bag of Skittles and popped a few into my mouth. “Mmhmm?”
“Oh. My. God.” Mi Ji gazed at me, shaking her head in disbelief. “You were named after Doctor Katya Payne, weren’t you. Katya Sinclair.”
Chewing slowly, I pretended to consider it. Then I shrugged. “Hey, it’s better than Kimmy Kickwell.”
“It’s awesome!” yelled Hailey, while Oscar and Jamie cracked up. “No, shut up, you guys—she’s named after a character her grandmother played in a horror movie. That is, like, the coolest thing ever!”
“Not just any character,” Mi Jin added, her eyes still wide with awe. “Katya Payne—”
“Gets attacked by guinea pigs in the shower,” Oscar cut in, and Jamie fell on his side, laughing. “Hiding any scars, Kat?”
Mi Jin swatted him on the head. “Stop, you don’t understand—Doctor Payne is one of the best horror-movie heroines of all time. Edie won—”
“Doctor Pain?” Hailey interrupted, giggling. “Like, ow pain?”
“Oh man, I’m so calling you Doctor Pain from now on,” Oscar said, grinning at me. I flicked a yellow Skittle at his forehead, sending Hailey into hysterics.
Jamie grabbed the laptop. “I’m changing the name of your blog to The Doctor Pain Files,” he announced, and a moment later a red Skittle bounced off his nose. Within seconds, the room was a tornado of flying candy, chips, and wrappers.
“I should get back downstairs,” Mi Jin called, hurriedly backing up to the door. “You guys have a good night. Watch out for guinea pigs in the shower, Doctor Pain.”
A half-empty bag of Cheetos smacked against the door the instant it closed behind her.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
RETURN OF THE JERK
P2P WIKI
Entry: “Automatism”
[Last edited by Maytrix]
Automatism refers to a spontaneous, involuntary movement caused by spirits. In most cases, the individuals are unconscious of their actions, which are influenced by the presence of the spirit. Automatism may also be a sign of possession.
RING-RING. RING-RING. RING-RING.
“Make it stop,” I moaned, blindly groping for a pillow and cramming it over my face. A moment later, I heard Dad flip the alarm clock off.
“Sorry about that.” His voice was muffled, thanks to my pillow. “I must’ve hit snooze when I turned it off earlier.”
“Mmmph.”
“I’m heading downstairs to get some work done,” Dad went on. “It’s already after nine—try not to sleep in too much, okay?”
“Mmmph.”
“Kat.”
Heaving a sigh, I pulled the pillow off my face. “I’m on fall break, you know. We’re not doing lessons this week.”
“Yes, but you’ll never adjust to the time-zone change this way,” Dad said matter-of-factly. “Naps in the middle of the day, staying up late, sleeping in.”
“Why bother getting used to it?” I mumbled. “We’re leaving for Brussels in a few days, anyway.”
“Brussels is in the same time zone as Rotterdam.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Oh.”
Dad headed to the door, then stopped and turned around. “Kat, about your phone call with . . .”
Rolling over to face the window, I yanked the blankets up and over my head. I heard Dad sigh, and a moment later the door clicked closed.
I slept for another two hours.
By the time I stepped off the elevator and into the lobby, it was almost eleven thirty. The breakfast room was empty except for Lidia and Oscar, who sat at a table in the corner talking quietly. I studied the remains of the free continental breakfast: a few cantaloupe slices, some sugar-free, taste-free bran cereal, and two muffins I was pretty sure were from yesterday.
Okay, maybe Dad was right. I needed to start waking up earlier.
Grabbing both muffins and a couple of grapes I found hiding beneath the cantaloupe, I headed over to Oscar and Lidia. “I’d kill for some bacon pancakes,” I announced, pulling out a chair. They jumped, startled, and I set my plate down. “Sorry, I thought you saw me come in.”
“No, we were just . . .” Blinking, Lidia smiled a little too cheerfully. “Just chatting. How’d you sleep?”
I shrugged. “Okay. How’s the episode coming?”
“Great!” Lidia chirped. “Jess didn’t want to use the footage of my seizure, but I convinced her.” She paused, toying with the locket around her neck. “So . . . we all read your blog post last night.”
“You did?” I glanced at Oscar, but he was staring blankly at his uneaten toast. “Wait, who’s we?”
“Everyone,” Lidia said. “Jess, Roland, Sam, Mi Jin. Thomas Cooper. And your dad, of course. That, um . . .” She squeezed her eyes closed for a second, as if she had a headache. “That photo of me was certainly interesting.”
I choked a little on a grape. “I should’ve asked,” I said, suddenly mortified. “I shouldn’t have just posted that without asking you first. I’m really sorry.”
Lidia waved dismissively. “No apologies necessary. But . . .” She coughed, and I flinched at how raspy it sounded. “But now that your blog is getting attention from fans of the show, we’re going to have to monitor it. Make sure you don’t publish anything . . . er, inappropriate.”
“Inappropriate? Like what?”
“Anything that could violate someone’s privacy, for example,” Lidia said. “I’ll be honest, Kat—I think it’s great that you’re blogging about the show. The fans seem to love it. But not everyone feels the same.”
“Who was upset about it?” I asked, then answered my own question. “Roland.”
Nodding, Lidia took a sip of coffee. “He’s pretty against having any sort of behind-the-scenes blog, especially one written by a kid. Jess felt the same. But I convinced them that the most important thing is how much the fans love it. In the end, they agreed with me . . . so long as you allow us to check your posts before you publish them, and make any changes we ask. We’ll need to monitor the comments, too—you’ve had some odd ones pop up.”
I sat back
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