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try and give this a chance. It may <strong>no</strong>t be exactly what you think.” He<br />
winked at me.<br />
I actually had to smile a little at the chick flick reference.<br />
Being a female, I had seen my share of girly rom-coms and dramas,<br />
and I actually agreed with him on that one. <strong>The</strong>y were total hell to<br />
sit through. “I’ll try it. Thanks.”<br />
“See you later, Chelsea,” he said as I turned to follow my<br />
dad down the aisle. I realized that I didn’t k<strong>no</strong>w his name; he hadn’t<br />
been wearing a name tag like they did in big commercial stores.<br />
Mental <strong>no</strong>te: be sure to ask on the way out. It was the least I could<br />
do in a desperate attempt at politeness after calling him a weirdo.<br />
It turned out that the store had a back room that was only<br />
partially filled with books. All of the walls were pretty much<br />
papered in stacks, but the middle of the room was a clear space with<br />
a few rows of chairs set up. In the front, beside a table loaded with<br />
equipment on display, were a man and a woman wearing black t-<br />
shirts that read, “Lark Hollow Para<strong>no</strong>rmal Research.” Lark Hollow<br />
was a few towns <strong>no</strong>rth of us in central Massachusetts. I’d been there<br />
plenty of times to go to the mall, but I’d had <strong>no</strong> idea they harbored<br />
a creepy group of …<br />
K<strong>no</strong>ck it off, Chelsea. Stop being so judgmental. Fear was<br />
<strong>no</strong>t an excuse for being a bee-otch.<br />
Dad had taken a seat right in the front — why was I <strong>no</strong>t<br />
surprised — so I sat down to his left, favoring the end of the row.<br />
“Look at all their gadgets!” my dad gushed, pointing<br />
blatantly at the table. “How cool is this?”<br />
“Very cool, Dad,” I mumbled. My fingers toyed with my<br />
phone in my pocket, tempting me to pull it out and text Michelle.<br />
When I’d told her that my dad wanted to go to this, she said, “Wait,<br />
is that where they dance around a circle and sacrifice animals?” I<br />
explained to her that <strong>no</strong>, ghost hunting was <strong>no</strong>t some kind of<br />
ritualistic cult activity. At least as far as I knew. But at least she<br />
shared my wariness of it.<br />
<strong>The</strong> room began to fill up quickly as people filtered in<br />
through the doorway and selected seats. Before I knew it, there were<br />
a good twelve people besides us filling up the chairs. Twelve people<br />
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