I went to my room and dumped the entire box into the garbage can, then smashed it down with my foot as hard as I could. I felt fractured, like there were tiny shards of every conceivable emotion just floating around inside me. And not to get all pathetic about it but man, Blake? Back?
I should probably tell you about him. As adorable and nauseating as it sounds, he was my first crush, and I’ve had a hard time moving on.
Okay, okay, I haven’t really tried. Our dads have been friends since they were on the high school football team together, so I’ve known Blake for a long time. Kinda. His dad travels a lot, so he spends a good portion of the year with his mom. If he causes too much trouble when he’s with his mom, he is sent back to boarding school, where he’s been off and on since seventh grade. It’s one of those places where they wear uniforms and all that, and I think it might be worse now that he’s in ninth grade. But when he was still in middle school he’d say hi to me in the halls, or (on a very special day) make small talk with me if I was working in the office when he was there to be punished.
A few years ago, before I had a crush on him, there were a couple times he and his dad came over to grill and we raced on our bikes. Remembering it now, I’m pretty sure he let me win. Blake didn’t seem like a bad kid to me; just a kid who did “bad” things. What would it feel like to be that way? He never seemed to worry about getting in trouble or going back to boarding school. He just did what he wanted and let whatever was gonna happen, happen. Honestly, he never seemed to worry about anything.
Unlike me.
Oh no, what if Blake saw me with my busted nose? Stupid nose. Maybe it would be better by morning? Maybe I could hide it with some concealer? Makeup hadn’t really been my thing yet, but it might be time to dive in. It can’t be that hard, right? A few YouTube videos and I’d be a pro.
I grabbed Einstein and climbed into bed. Time for puppy snuggles and time to forget this day ever happened, because there was no way tomorrow could possibly be worse. I started sketching in my notebook, but soon my hand dropped and I drifted to sleep.
Off to dreamland …
* * *
I could see myself standing in Count’s, but it was actually a mix of my dad’s club and this hill my dad used to take me to for picnics. Anyway, there I was, watching myself. I was happy, beautiful even. My hair sparkled in the sunshine and was about a foot longer, and the curls looked like perfect ringlets instead of fuzzy poof balls, and it certainly wasn’t doing that weird flip thing in the front. Everything was in soft focus, like in a shampoo commercial. I was waiting for someone. Then I saw him.
It was Blake. He had his boarding school uniform on. Not really my favorite, but on Blake it looked good. Everything looked good when you were tall, tan, and had perfectly tousled black hair. Just like in so many other dreams, Blake not only knew who I was, but he also loved me. Madly. I was the one.
He embraced me, and suddenly I was back in my body. His gray eyes seemed to see nothing but me. We were about to kiss. I could feel his breath. My pulse quickened. Our lips met, and—
Wocka-Wocka! Wocka-Wocka! Wocka-Wocka!
My Fozzie Bear alarm clock made me sigh, stuck somewhere between ecstasy and pain. The best dream I had ever had and a freaking Muppet interrupted it. If I kept my eyes closed a little longer, maybe, just maybe I’d slip back into it.
Pupster Einstein did not agree with this plan. He bounded onto my stomach.
“Oof!” I cried, finally opening my eyes. The bouncy little pup with his black-spotted ears gave me about a million kisses in 1.2 seconds.
“Little dude, little dude! Good morning! That’s enough! Thank you! That’s enough! I just had the craziest, bestest dream.” I swooned, rubbing the sleep and slobber out of my eyes.
Then my jaw dropped.
This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t possibly be real!
There were hearts—actual hearts—floating all around my room!
CHAPTER THREE
STUPIDPOWERS
Cute puffy hearts with cartoon faces were floating all around my room. I pinched my arm. Then I smacked myself in the face. Yep. Nose still hurts. And those balloons were really there. Or I was crazy. Maybe both.
I delicately poked a hot-pink heart that was about six inches away. It smiled at me and bashfully said, “Tee-hee!”
I jumped back, knocking into one. POP!
I gasped—I had killed it. I was an imaginary-creature killer! The one next to it just giggled and said, “Oopsie!”
The dog was staring up at them in confusion. His head cocked to one side.
“They aren’t really alive, Einstein,” I said, more to reassure myself than him.
Suddenly, Dad knocked on the door. “Rise and shine, buttercup.”
“I’m up. I’m up!” I tried to sound normal as I lunged for the door and locked it. “I’ll be down in a minute.”
The hearts were cooing and giggling as they glided around the room like helium balloons. I put my finger to my lips, silently shushing them. The door frame squeaked as Dad leaned into it.
“What are you watching in there? It’s a bit early for anime, don’t you think?”
“Uh, yeah?” I replied. “I’ll turn it off in just a second.”
“Veri? What is that—”
“See ya downstairs, Dad. Downstairs! In a minute.”
“Okeydokey.” His slippers scuttled away on the wood floor.
I looked back at Einstein. He kept bopping one heart in particular with his nose. He obviously wanted to bite it but was being a good boy. I got an idea. If they didn’t mind popping … Heck, they seemed to enjoy it …
“Einstein?” I said, “Get ’em!”
In a matter of seconds, and dozens of “oopsies” later, Einstein and I had cleared the entire room of hearts.
My mind was going a million miles an hour as I grabbed my school stuff and changed my clothes. What in the helloladies just happened? Did it really happen? Maybe I was still asleep? Maybe—wait—maybe it was a lucid dream? I watched a YouTube video about them a long time ago. A lucid dream is when you can pretty much control what happens in your dream.
“That’s gotta be it, right, bud? I’m not starting to hallucinate, am I?” Einstein wagged his tail. I took that as definitive agreement.
“Veronica! I’m heading out!” Dad yelled up the stairs.
I was relieved. The last thing I needed was the Man with a Thousand Questions poking around. “Uh, okay! Have a good day, Dad! Love you!”
I heard his heavy boots clomp to the door. “Love you, too, sweetie!”
Clomp-clomp-clomp. Clomp-clomp-clomp-clomp. Motorcycle engine. Brrrrr! Gone.
Whew!
* * *
At school, I did a stellar job of convincing myself that the morning’s incident was nothing more than a bizarre lucid dream. Slowly but surely, the day went on like any other boring school day. For once, school reassured me that I was sane and that everything was okay.
But then again, I had gym class, which was carefully crafted to weed out and destroy any positive feelings of companionship, skill, or hope.
In the dark back corner of the locker room, I could hear Betsy coming by the squeak of her combat boots on the linoleum. Panic is a funny thing. It can give you an adrenaline rush and save your life or freeze you in one spot as wolves rip you limb from limb. I was hoping for the former. I just needed to contain my hair and get out of there before Betsy reached me. I could see my truant hair tie way in the bottom of my locker, peeking out from behind a mini dictionary. I stretched down to grab it. Stretch … got it. I raced out of the locker room, brushing by Betsy.
“Where you running off to?” Betsy growled. “Your nose looks better. We’ll see how my aim is today.” Her eyes were slits, darkened with more eyeliner than my dad had let me wear in my entire life.
I said nothing, per my usual don’t-engage-with-crazy-people plan, and went outside to meet Charlie, who was already on the track.
“What up?” he as
ked.
I looked at Betsy as she came onto the field. “Nothing.”
“You arty types are so strange…,” he said dismissively before pointing at my swollen, bruised nose. “At least now she has a real reason to pick on you.”
True. With my schnoz o’ fire, I was prime for the picking on.
“Are you all right?” Charlie asked.
“Yeah!” I replied as brightly as I could.
I couldn’t tell Charlie about what had happened that morning. Not only because of the insanity part, but I’d also have to preface it with my Blake dream. Not happening. As far as Charlie knew, I had a normal night and didn’t give a flying fig about Blake.
“No, something is definitely off with you…,” he said.
I shrugged.
“Did you get new sneakers?”
“Don’t you mean ‘trainers,’ Brit boy?” I teased.
“You just seem … shorter or something. I can see the top of your head.” He pointed as he spoke. “I can’t usually see it.”
“Maybe you grew?” I offered.
Before he could reply, our PE teacher, Mr. Smith, shouted from across the track, “McGowan! Weathers! Run!”
“Why do gym teachers call everyone by their last names?” I wondered.
“Maybe that’s how they keep themselves from recognizing us as human,” Charlie said. “If they realized we were actual people, they wouldn’t make us run laps.”
“Weathers!” Mr. Smith screeched. His face was cherry red.
Charlie flung his arms around lifelessly while lifting his legs up and down. “Yes, yes. I’m moving.”
I started running, too, only to be checked from the side by Betsy. I grabbed my throbbing arm and tried not to cry out.
“Ha!” Betsy laughed over her shoulder. “Only nineteen more laps, McGowan!”
“See,” Charlie said in his most soothing voice, “she used your last name: future gym teacher.”
“Let’s just go,” I said quietly.
Charlie lit up. “Or we could go tattle. Let’s get her in trouble! She deserves it. For. Sure.”
“No,” I muttered.
“Why not?” he asked. “We have the perfect opportunity! Everyone saw her knock you, Veri!” Charlie flailed his arms around, drawing everyone’s attention.
I fought back tears. I was humiliated again and really wanted Charlie to just stop. Now everyone would see me get bullied and see me crying. Perfect.
“No, Charlie,” I tried to say in a calm tone, but my ugly-cry face was on the verge of making an appearance, plus the high-pitched whine that went with it. “I just want to hide. I don’t want anyone to notice me.”
With that, I literally shrank about two inches. Now the top of my head barely made it to Charlie’s chin. His eyes were as big as moons.
“Whaawoo?” was all he could say.
I stopped running and tried to process. I’d just shrank. I’d just shrank. Something was definitely really happening. Well, maybe …
Charlie had stopped running, too. “Did you see that?” I asked him, not sure if I wanted to be wrong or right about what was going on.
“Schmoo … uh … yoooou just zipped down a bit. Yeah, I saw that,” he managed.
I closed my eyes tight. The hearts this morning were real. I had just shrank. I wasn’t hallucinating. Crap.
“Considering what just happened, maybe it isn’t a biggie, but Betsy is mere moments away,” Charlie said, looking over his shoulder.
I saw her coming. Betsy was laughing and joking with another future Roller Derby queen. There was nowhere to go. I felt myself shrink another inch or two.
Charlie pulled me off the track just as I got a parting blow from Betsy. My arm turned red from the hit, and my face was on fire to match. What would happen if they all saw me shrink? Dropping in size wasn’t enough. I really, more than anything, wanted to just disappear.
“That’s enough!” Charlie shouted after Betsy. “I’m taking you down, Bets!”
Charlie spun around to me, and I saw his face went from angry to majorly confused. I waved at him, but he couldn’t see me. In fact, as I held my hand in front of my face I realized I couldn’t see me. I had gone from shrinking to actually turning invisible.
CHAPTER FOUR
BEWARE: HERE BE DRAGON BREATH!
I found myself in Pearce’s last refuge: the science hall girls’ bathroom. It was a tiny room with itty-bitty windows. It had become eternally gross after Tracy Rollins backed up the toilet with a tampon (allegedly) and flooded the whole floor. Soon after, Tracy transferred to another school due to teasing (allegedly). I had gotten the scoop from my dad. Tracy’s mom was his lawyer.
Anyway, that bathroom now came with a stigma. No one who was anyone would ever go in it, which is why I hid there. Not that I could actually be seen by human eyes at this point. I still was freaking invisible! And also shrunken. I pulled myself up on the counter, trying to see my reflection, but nothing was there. I ran my hands over my face and through my hair. I still felt the same. Since I had disappeared, someone had texted me nonstop—Charlie, I was pretty sure—but I hadn’t responded. What do you say? “Sorry! I’m completely see-through right now and so’s my phone! I’ll text back when I can see my phone again.”
I could hear giggling outside the bathroom. No way girls were coming in here, right? I tiptoed over and pressed my ear to the door and recognized that familiar titter: the overly cheery tones of Jenny Marcos.
“I don’t see anyone,” Jenny said as she pushed the door open. Keesha followed close behind.
They leaned over to check for feet in the stalls.
“Like anyone would come in here now,” Jenny said. “After that weird girl permanently grossed it up.”
The Legend of Tracy the Tampon continues.
“Speaking of ‘that weird girl,’” Keesha said as she opened one of the windows and stretched her arm through it to feel around for something in the bushes outside, “you should have seen her in gym today! Mr. Smith was really freaking out! Apparently, she just took off.”
Were they talking about me? Did they actually know who I was?
“I don’t know who is weirder, Betsy or that girl, whatever her name is. She’s so annoying.” Jenny checked her reflection and applied more mascara. “I mean, how desperate did she look at the SFC meeting? It was sad.”
“Well, at least she tried, ya know?” Keesha said as she finally retrieved what she was looking for—a pack of cigarettes.
Jenny smirked as she took the box from Keesha. “Sweet.”
“Those are really disgusting, by the way,” Keesha said.
“Don’t be such a stain, Keesh.” Jenny slipped the pack into her bag before returning to freshening up her makeup. “I don’t do it very often, and besides, I think it looks sexy.”
Keesha shook her head. “It doesn’t smell sexy.”
“Perfume and breath mints.” Jenny made a wide flourish with her lip-gloss tube.
Afraid Jenny’s hand would hit me, I stepped back and slid on a wet paper towel. I clunked into the sink next to them and hit the tap, turning it on full blast.
“EEEEEEE!” they squealed.
Still imbalanced—it’s hard when you can’t even see yourself!—I staggered sideways, where I smacked into the paper towel dispenser, knocking it off its screws. It clanged to the floor, shooting paper towels into the air.
“A ghost!” Keesha wailed, looking like she might pee herself. Jenny was now shrieking so loudly only dolphins could hear her. She grabbed Keesha and together they ran from the bathroom.
I tried to remember the positives: They actually knew who I was … kinda. They may or may not have thought I was weirder than Betsy. Yes, they did know Betsy’s proper name, but that was to be expected considering Betsy used to be an Est.
Anyway, I needed to calm down. A deep breath or two and maybe I could figure out what the heck was going on. Breathe in, breathe out. It felt good, actually. I took another deep breath and stretched my arm
s out in front of me. Man, I really needed to touch up my nail polish. It took a second, but my brain figured it out. Nail polish! Nails! Hands! I was coming back into view! I joyfully watched in the mirror as my body reappeared. And I was back to normal size! Happy dance!
Maybe if I just made it through the rest of the day without anything insane happening, things would go back to normal and Charlie would just forget what he saw. It could happen. True, he remembers what he had for lunch on August second, three years ago, but that doesn’t mean he can’t forget little things … like an invisible best friend.
* * *
At last it was time for art class. Also known as my happy place. Charlie was sitting at our usual table, staring blankly at a huge hunk of clay.
“Hey, dude,” I said casually as I sat down.
He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Where were you? You, like, disappeared.”
“Disappeared? Ha!” I fake laughed with the best of them. “No. I just had an emergency. A girl emergency.”
Charlie nodded slowly. True, pulling the girl card was a dirty trick, but I felt if there was a day to use it, today was the day. Most guys will not even attempt to question something labeled as a “girl” problem. Babies.
“It’s totally bizarre,” Charlie went on. “I thought I saw you shrink out there!” He dug into his clay.
“That’s hilarious!” I laughed. Charlie gave me a weird look, but I just waited him out.
“I still think we should have gotten Betsy in trouble,” he said quietly as he pointed over his shoulder toward the computer station.
Betsy sat there, totally immersed in editing sad photos of lost puppies and abandoned shopping carts (her specialties).
“Oh,” said Charlie. “I almost forgot.”
He flicked his hand at the bulletin board, and a small hunk of gooey clay flung off his finger and splattered on the board. The sign-up sheet for the student art contest had been posted!
“Eee!” I squeaked.
“Better hurry. There are only two slots left,” Charlie said as he stuck a googly eye to a lump of clay that was either a monster or a bust of Ronald McDonald. I wasn’t sure, but either way I’d tell him it was fantastic.
My So-Called Superpowers Page 3
