Invisible (15 page)

“
All he really is,” Charlie says, “is a bully and nothing more.”

“
And I bet he wins the athletic scholarship award.” Jon punches his own knee, and then grimaces. “Life’s not fair. Only the assholes of the world seem to get ahead. Come on, Lola, this is our last chance to punish him for everything he’s done over the years.”

I sit in contemplation for a moment, and then heave a sigh. They’re right, and despite losing Gran, I’m feeling something I haven’t felt in probably forever

hope. I’m actually hopeful about my future. No doubt Jon has a little something to do with that. But my recent sense of contentment worries me. In order to pull off the plan, it might be hard to bring to the surface those feelings necessary to make myself invisible. I could always try to use the good feelings. Gran said either/or would work, yet the horrible, despicable ones; the ones that bring tears to my eyes and churning knots to my stomach seem to work best.

“
I have to think about it, guys. I mean, what would happen if I couldn’t make myself disappear? Or, God forbid, I reappear in the middle of it.” I flush, thinking about the coffee shop episode with Jon.

“
All right,” Jon says. “Think about it.”

“
But we’re not done talking about this just yet,” Charlie adds.

Chapter Twenty-Six

For the last three days I’ve jogged around the block. Well, maybe jogging’s not exactly the right word. I’ve walked fast around the block, several times. It made me feel like I was going to puke up a lung, but I did it and I’m proud. I’ve also by-passed the fries in the school cafeteria and I only eat half my regular helping of dinner, which frankly isn’t all that hard since I’m pretty damn sick of stir- fry. I don’t know what I weigh and I don’t want to find out, so I’ve avoided the scale, but I’m delighted that my jeans feel a teensy bit baggy. It’s not a lot but it’s a start.

Today’s Sunday and what used to be my favorite day of the week is now a dark empty space of a day. A day with a hole in it, much like my heart. But I feel strong enough to handle putting up Gran’s paintings in my room and think it only fitting that I do it on a Sunday. Dad’s not much of a handyman and I had to scrounge around the garage to find a few nails. I hammer them into the drywall with one of Mom’s shoes that has a good, solid wedge heel.

Katy Perry is going over my bed and John Travolta on the opposite wall. Gran’s all around me now. I sit cross-legged in the middle of my bed and smile, drinking in her creative spirit. The hole is still there, but it’s a tiny bit smaller now that it’s got a little bit of Gran in it.

Mom’s at the hairdresser. She asked if I wanted to join her and for the first time ever, I actually thought about saying yes, but common sense prevailed. The risk of coming out of that funky salon she goes to looking like a fat Amy Winehouse was too great.

After putting up the paintings, I spend the rest of the day doing homework and texting Jon while he’s at work. Charlie’s working too, but she’s not allowed to text at her job. They make all the teenagers leave their cellphones at home. I think that’s unfair. It sounds like discrimination to me, but Charlie needs the job to help out at home and even if she snuck it in, I wouldn’t dare text her in case I get her into trouble.

Later today, Mom, Dad and Uncle Brian are going to collect Gran’s ashes. Mom says they’ve decided to bury her urn in Grandpa Ken’s plot at Holy Family Cemetery. Mom asked if I wanted to be there for the burial, but I decided to stay home. It was bad enough seeing Gran in a coffin, I can’t bear to see her put into the ground, even though I know that’s not really Gran any more, and that she’s in a better place.

Unfortunately, Eva will be home too. She broke up with her boyfriend a couple of days ago and all she does is mope around the house. I wish I could tell her about Jon and rub in the fact that I have an
almost
boyfriend and she has no one. But I don’t want to remind her about him just yet. She hasn’t bothered to ask about Jon since our date was cancelled the night of Gran’s heart attack. I’m sure, as self-absorbed as Eva is, she’s all but forgotten him.

I’m surprised at how well I’ve been holding up. Without Jon and Charlie in my life, I’m sure I’d be a mess. It’s true what they say, “God never closes a door without opening a window.” Gran used to say that all the time. Jon is my window.

When evening rolls around, it’s just me and my evil sister. Mom and Dad left us money for a pizza. Of course, Eva called in the order and asked for all her favorite toppings, leaving me to pick off the mushrooms and disgusting green olives from my slice.

We get comfortable on the couch with our dishes and Eva grabs the remote before I have a chance. I heave a sigh and settle in to watch
A Baby’s Story
and then
Say Yes to the Dress
. Gawd, could two sisters be any more different?

After just one slice of pizza instead of my usual four, I down two large glasses of water instead of Pepsi.

“
You on a diet or something?” Eva asks without turning from the TV.

“
No,” I say quickly.

“
Yes, you are.”

“
I’m just not hungry.”

Eva swivels around and gives me the once over. “It’s that boy you were supposed to go out with. I can tell. You’re in love with this loser and you think if you can drop a few hundred pounds, he might ask you out again.”

Eva’s got more brains than I gave her credit for. Looks like I’ve sold her short. “You’re just jealous ’cause Kevin dumped your ass.” I raise a brow and smile with satisfaction. That one had to have cut to the bone.

“
You’re still fat, and you’ll always be fat.” Her lips curve into a hateful sneer, dowsing my smile. I want more than anything to punch her teeth down her throat.

“
Your hair looks like a couple of rats have made a home in it and you wear too much make-up,” I retort. “You look like a friggin’ hooker, that’s why Kevin dumped you. And you’re stupid. You’re just a stupid girl who only knows about shallow things that don’t matter, like what shade of bronzer goes with which type of complexion.”

Tears spring to her eyes and I’m glad for it.

“
What about you? You don’t belong in this family. No one loves you. Mom and Dad pretend to because you’re their misfit daughter, but the only person who loved you is d-e-a-d, dead. Gran ain’t ever coming back and now there’s no one in the whole world who loves you.”

Her words slice like shards of freshly shattered glass and I double over feeling as if I’ve been punched in the gut. My heart flutters hard, stealing my breath.

“
Ahhh!” Eva cries and scrambles crab-like to the farthest end of the couch. “Oh, my God!”

My heart settles to a slow rhythmic beat – that and Eva’s reaction tells me I’ve vanished.

Rage still rushes through me and my fingers curl into fists. I decide to use my invisible time to my advantage.

Eva’s still staring at the spot where I was when I disappeared, but now I’m standing in front of her. I grab a handful of her hair and yank so hard she slips from the couch, landing on the floor with an inelegant
clunk
. Then I kick her hard, in the ribs and finish with a good twisting pinch to the fleshy part of her right arm.

Eva’s eyes are wide with horror. “Stop, stop!” she screams, swiping wildly at the air.

I peer down at her. She’s pitiful with her black-ringed eyes wet with tear-smudged mascara. I’m ashamed. Although she deserves it, we’ll never be friends, so what’s the point of perpetuating this. It’s better to just keep away. We’re too different to ever get along.

I turn to walk away, leaving her crying on the floor.

“
W…w…where did you go just now?” Eva asks in a frightened whisper.

“
I’m back?” I ask, not quite sure.

She nods and wraps her arms around her drawn up knees. Her mascara now runs in black streaks down her cheeks and her hair is a lopsided mess.

I walk over to her and hold out a hand.

She flinches and looks truly petrified, making me feel worse than ever.

“
I’m sorry,” I say, but she still doesn’t take my hand.

“
What
are
you?”

With undignified grace, I sit beside her. “I don’t know. Guess I’m just some kind of freak.”

“
It’s happened before?”

“
A few times, but I’m getting better at controlling it.”

“
Do Mom and Dad know?”

I shake my head slowly, suddenly fearful she’ll tell. “Don’t tell,” I say sternly.

“
But they should know…”

“
If you tell on me, to anyone, anyone at all, I’ll come into your room and take a video of you when you’re dancing around singing, like I
know
you do, and I’ll put it on YouTube.
And
since I’ll be invisible, you’ll never know when I show up to do it. Plus, I can still beat the shit out of you anytime I want, since you won’t see me coming.”

Eva hugs her knees tighter and wipes tears and snot from her face with a sleeve. “I won’t tell.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Two weeks until graduation and the dance. Butterflies dance in my belly and thoughts of Jon make my heart sing. My only wish is that Gran could be here to share in my joy. I’m happier than I’ve been since I was a kid; before I knew how hard life really is.

Not much real work’s getting done during these last few days of school and I’m surprised when Mrs. Wright asks me to stay behind after homeroom English. I’ve handed in all my major assignments and next week is exams, so I can’t imagine what she has to say.

Jon waves bye from the doorway and calls, “See you at lunch.”

I smile and wave back while Mrs. Wright waits patiently. How many young loves must she have witnessed over her career? She’s old. I’d guess close to retirement, with steel gray hair, cut short, but not boyish. There’s enough length to give her a slightly feminine look. Although she wears no make-up and always dresses in a burgundy blazer and black pleated dress pants. Man, she must have a closet filled with burgundy blazers and black pleated pants. At least I hope so. I’d hate to think she’s wearing the same outfit every day. She’s tiny and makes me feel like Godzilla. I always slouch horribly when I’m near her.

“
Sit down, Lola; we have a few minutes ’til the next class starts. I’ll give you a note so you won’t be marked late.” She gives me a gap-toothed smile.

“
Thanks,” I sit, relieved I’m no longer staring down at the top of her head.

She picks up a folder and perches on the edge of her desk. “I’ve got your submission for the creative writing scholarship award and I have to say, Miss Savullo, you’re a wonderful writer. The imagination, the descriptive narrative, the
emotional impact
.” She sighs and looks skyward crushing my story to her chest. “It’s truly incredible.” Her eyes find mine. “Do you want to be a writer? Or an English teacher?” She says the latter with an enthusiastic tone.

A smile unfurls across my face and suddenly I’m drifting on cloud nine. “I want to be a writer,” I say excitedly.

“
Then you
must
follow your dream.” She drives home her point by leaning forward and wagging a dainty finger. “There are quite a few contenders for the scholarship. I’m really quite impressed with the talent this year. I’m having one-on-one sit downs with everyone who has a story entered, to let you each know what marvellous jobs you’ve done, and to wish… you… luck.” The final three words emerge in a staccato of pointed emphasis.

My lips thin to a line in disappointment and I let out a huff of air through my nose. There are others? Others who are just as good? Others who are just as talented? My shoulders deflate. If I were a turtle, I’d be tucked into the safety of my shell right now.

“
Thanks, Mrs. Wright, I’d better get going.”

She doesn’t seem to notice my waning enthusiasm, and continues to beam at the enormity of the writing talent among her students, as if she’s the sole reason for it. She writes my note in an unbelievably neat script; no doubt, the result of the perfect combination of old lady and English teacher; that is Mrs. Wright. “Here you are Miss Savullo. Good luck with the scholarship.”

I take the note, plaster on a smile and leave.

* * * *

Lunch rolls around and I find Charlie under the oak waiting for me. Before sitting, I scan for Jon.

“
I don’t think he’s coming,” Charlie says.

“
How do you know?”

She sets her half-eaten bologna sandwich down on the brown paper lunch bag on her knee. “I saw him with Nino and Tyler.”

“
What?
When?”

“
Just now. At Nino’s locker. I didn’t want to have to tell you this, but I heard Jon ask to eat lunch with them.”

“
He wouldn’t go with them, at least not willingly. Did it look like he was scared? Did Nino push him around or yell at him?” None of this makes any sense. I try to quell my sudden panic. There has to be a reason.