Invisible Me

Chapter 22

My stomach is in knots. Whether I play it straight or act dumb, I'm taking a risk.

"Portia?" My mom shifts her gaze form the phone to my face.

"Yeah?"

"You heard my question. Please answer it. How long have you been home?"

"Not long."

"What did you hear?"

"Something about how someone changes the subject when you try to talk to him."

She cocks an eyebrow. "Do you know who I was talking about?"

I shrug. "I must have missed that part."

She studies me, looking for a nervous tic or a confession. Sobbing. Pathetic.

I'm stoic. That's the word. My face is worthy of Mount Rushmore. I am a statue. And I give up nothing.

My mom nods. "Okay. Why don't you run along? I'm going to call my friend back and then start dinner."

"Mom?"

"Yes, honey?"

"Who were you talking about?"

She gasps like she's been punched in the gut. The forehead crease returns.

"Honey, please. Can we talk about this later?"

"All right."

I retreat into my bedroom and shut the door on the entire freaking world.

Throwing myself on the bed, I wonder when "later" will come.

• • •

Time passes. I drift off. Where am I? It's foggy. I hear the ocean. Soothing. No, not ocean. Wind in the trees. Shooshing sounds. Fog rolling in. Images appear and fade out. What are they? Can't remember. They're gone the second after I see them. Ghosts. Noncorporeal. I heard that word on Star Trek once.

What's that noise? Off and on. Buzzing? Not quite. Bells? No. Ringing? Kind of. Annoying? Definitely grating.

I wake up with a start, drool oozing from the corner of my mouth. My cell phone jangles on the side table.

Before I can answer, it stops. With a groan, I hoist myself up and lean over to retrieve the phone and check my missed calls. And guess who it is. Denise. Well, duh!

"Ugh." I place the phone back on the table and wipe off the spit with my hand. Gross.

After a quick trip to the bathroom to splash water on my face, I return to my room, close the door and lock it. I vant to be alone! Where have I heard that? Ah, I remember. Greta Garbo in Grand Hotel. I stayed up one night to watch it with my parents on TCM. I perch on the edge of my bed and make the dreaded call to Denise.

On the second ring, she answers, "Hi, Portia. What's up?"

She sounds casual. I wonder who's with her.

"Are you alone?" I ask.

"No."

"Is Randy there?"

"Uh-huh."

"Okay."

"Did you need to tell me something?"

"I . . . I got on the bus. Everything was fine. When he got off the bus, I followed him. I was trying to keep about a block away from him, so he wouldn't notice me. But then, he turned a corner. I ran to the corner and looked, but I didn't see him."

"Really?"

"I ran down the street. I saw a brick building with a wooden door. He might have gone in. Or crossed the street and disappeared."