That’s why I never got a report card sent home, or a test handed back, or my name up on the bulletin board.
No one could see me.
I feel so completely stupid.
A fiery anger begins to simmer inside me. I used to hate feeling angry. I used to fear it. Except now . . . it feels good. It feels like something.
I take a couple of steps so I’m standing in front of the television, blocking everyone’s view. But not everyone is watching the show. A few girls are whispering behind a notebook. Alex Lind has his forehead down on the desk, but I know he’s not asleep, because his left leg is bouncing up and down. Another kid is drawing black circles over and over again on the sole of his sneaker.
I open my mouth and scream. Scream as loud as I can.
And no one hears me.
Shaking, I press down on the channel buttons. I can actually feel them underneath my fingertips.
The channels start changing, and everyone in class snaps to attention.
“Ay, diosmío,” Señor Tremont says. He stands up and comes over to the television with the remote. I move my hand to the power button and click the television off and on. “This . . . I don’t understand.”
I’m laughing now; I can’t help it. Señor Tremont looks so confused, and the rest of the kids do too.
And then, with every last bit of strength I’ve got left, I push my body into the television cart and knock the entire thing over. The screen bursts into a million pieces on the floor. And the crazy thing is that doing it doesn’t make me feel tired. It’s the opposite. It has filled me back up with energy.
Just then the bell rings. I walk out into the hallway like everyone else.
“Mary?”
Her voice comes from far behind me, from the other end of the hallway.
Kat.
“Yo! Mary!”
I take off, keeping my back to her, and then step through the door of the janitor’s closet and wait to hear if she calls my name again.
She doesn’t.
Lillia and Kat have always been able to see me. They believed I was real, that I was seventeen. They were able to see the things I’d imagined too. But why?
A minute or two later I sneak back out of the classroom. I see Lillia and Kat talking at the end of the hallway. Lillia’s holding a folder, maroon and embossed with gold foil letters. Boston College. I wonder if she’s been accepted. Lillia will be gone in a few months. Kat, too. Then I won’t have to hide from them. That’s a relief. But it also breaks my heart.
When they leave, there won’t be anyone left who can see me.
Then I’ll truly be gone. Gone for good.
Chapter Thirteen
LILLIA
AFTER SCHOOL ASH AND I ride in her car over to her house to work on our English project. It’s sort of the worst, being partnered with Ash, because she’s lazy, but I know she’d be hurt if I partnered up with someone else. We’re in her room, supposedly doing research, but whenever I glance over at her computer screen, she’s looking at gossip blogs.
I’m cutting and pasting an article to read later, when my phone buzzes. It’s Reeve. Can I see you tonight?
Oh no. No, no, no. This is exactly what I was afraid of, and it’s my fault. I was weak.
I have to be strong now.
I can’t. I’m studying over at Ashlin’s.
His little sad face makes me want to smile, but I don’t let myself go there.
A few minutes later Ashlin’s phone buzzes from across the room. She picks it up and squeals. “Derek and the guys want to come over and hang out,” she says. “Our sauna’s not working, but we could take a hot tub break!”
I bite my lip. Reeve. I could kill him.
“Ash, we can’t. This is due on Monday. If the guys come over, you know it’s not going to be a short break. It’s going to be all night.” And then I pick up my phone and text Reeve.
Not cool.
Ash nods. “You’re right, I know you’re right. I’m just having a hard time concentrating.” Plaintively she says, “Are things ever going to feel normal again?”
“I don’t know.” And then, because that sounds so depressing, I add, “I hope.”
Ash picks up her phone to text Derek, and I feel bad. I haven’t been a good friend to her lately. So I close my laptop and say, “Ash, it’s fine. The guys can stop by. We’re almost done anyway.”
Ash’s face lights up. “Yay!” She jumps up and starts rifling through her bikini drawer. She gasps suddenly and lifts one up for me to look at—it’s Rennie’s. “Ren left this the last time she was over here.”
I remember when she bought it, last summer at the bikini store near Java Jones. It’s tiny and black, and she loved it because it made her boobs look bigger. “I—I’ll just wear one of yours.”
“But mine won’t fit you,” Ash says, dropping the bikini back into her drawer.
“Then I’ll just dip my feet into the tub.” I’m not wearing Rennie’s bikini. It’s too eerie.
“Wait!” Ash digs into her drawer again. She holds up a skimpy navy-and-green tie-dyed one with the tags still on. “The top was way too small for me, but I never got around to returning it. It’ll fit you perfectly.”
Relieved, I quickly undress and put on her bikini. Ash comes around and ties the tie around my back tighter. “It looks great on you,” she says. “You can keep it.”
“Thanks, Ash.” Ash and I have never been super close. There was always Rennie in between us. She always had to be most loved. And we did love her most. We both knew we’d pick Ren over each other. But Ash is a nice person, and I feel lucky to have her.
After we’re both changed, we put on Uggs and bathrobes and go outside to turn on the hot tub. Ash goes back in to get a bottle of wine from her parents’ cellar, and I’m testing how hot the water is when Alex walks up.
“How’s the water?” he asks me, peeling off his peacoat. He pulls his sweater over his head, and I go over and turn on the jets.
“Pretty hot,” I say.
Alex throws his clothes onto a lounge chair. He looks around to make sure we’re alone, and then says, “Hey, can I talk to you about something?”
“Sure.”
He slides into the water. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to say to you for a while, but I didn’t want to bring it up at the wrong time.”
It’s suddenly very hard to swallow.
I look around for Ash, but she hasn’t come back yet, and there’s no sign of Reeve and Derek yet. So I slip off her bathrobe and quickly step inside the hot tub. The hot water pricks my skin. I put my hair up into a high bun so it won’t get wet. “Umm. Okay.”
