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book every time you see her? Who sneaks her lunch into the library, instead of eating in the cafeteria, so she can squeeze in some extra study time? The girl who sits in the front row of every class she's ever been in,
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    who raises her hand to answer every question, and who asks the teacher for extra work just so she can get ahead?
    Crazy. But what's even more crazy is that she contacted me about this project. She came running up to me this morning at school, asking me if she could be in my film-- no questions asked.
    "Are you serious?" I asked, all but jumping up and down. "That would be amazing."
    "Really?" Her brow crinkled up like it came as some big surprise that I'd let her on board.
    "Amazing," I repeated, feeling like a complete and total cheese-ass as soon as the word came out. But honestly, what else could I say? I mean, the girl is complete eye candy--like RTV won't eat that up. I wouldn't mind eatin' it up either.
    I signal to Mom that my group is here and then whip off my apron to join them in the corner booth.
    "Are we it?" Tony asks, pulling out his day planner. "Just the four of us?"
    I shake my head just as Liza comes in. And honestly, she couldn't look any cuter--tight black turtleneck, short wool skirt, tiny black glasses, and hair tied up in a messy ponytail, like a hot little schoolgirl.
    Liza scoots in beside Mimi, and I do my best to focus, starting with the introductions. I thank them for coming, tell them how great this is going to be, and then we get right down to business. We talk about all the practical stuff first--where to meet, what to bring, and what to say
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    to our parents since we're gonna be out all night.
    "All night?" Greta squawks. "Why can't we just leave when you're done filming?"
    "It won't take all night," Tony says to assure her. "A small-budget production like this shouldn't take us more than a few hours."
    "No way," I say. "We're spending the night--end of story."
    After all, there's a big difference between only having to stick it out for a couple hours, and knowing that you're stuck there all night--until the next morning.
    "Why can't we just pretend to stay there all night?" Greta pushes. "We can totally make it look legit with some sleeping bags and backpacks."
    "I want to do this right," I say. "If we play around, it's gonna look like we're playing around. I want this to be real."
    "You're obviously not familiar with my acting abilities," Greta says with an eye roll. "I make things look real."
    "Realer than real, babycakes." Tony winks at her.
    "Wear dark clothes," I say, ignoring their crap. "And bring water and convenient stuff to eat--stuff you don't have to cook." I look at Liza, who's actually taking notes, writing down my every word like this is history class or something.
    "Anything else?" she asks, peering up at me when she's finished writing.
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    I want to tell her yes--that I can't help but wonder if she remembers me from that day, freshman year, near the bus circle, when I couldn't stop gawking at her.
    "We should carpool," Mimi says, snapping me back to the moment. "The place where we're going to park is pretty dead at night. It would suck if a cop drove by and saw a row of cars. It would definitely give us away."
    "Is it true the place is haunted?" Greta asks, fidgeting with the salt and pepper shakers.
    "Don't worry, babealicious, I'll be there to protect you." Tony--no bigger than my pinkie--wraps his match-stick arm around Greta, like the guy would even stand a chance saving himself from a baby kitten.
    "What do you mean by haunted!" Liza cuts in.
    "Are you serious?" Mimi laughs. "You haven't heard about all the weird stuff that's happened there? People say that it doesn't even matter what the temperature is outside--I mean, it could be a blazing-hot summer day but it's always super cold in there. They say you can hear the patients whispering through the drafts, telling you all about their suffering."
    Liza's eyes get mother-big, making me want to put a