Invisible Me

Chapter 24

"Sure," I say. "The gym. Our usual spot?"

"Yes." Denise brightens. As I've said, she's not good at detecting sarcasm. She glances at the clock. "Uh-oh, class is starting. Gotta go. Bye!"

And off she runs.

The kids who stopped to listen all turn and look after her. Then, they look back at me.

I jut my head forward. "Boo!"

They flinch and disperse. A couple of kids give me funny looks. One girl (I would swear) is grinning.

"So," I say to Judy, "lunch sounds good. Meet you at the cafeteria later."

• • •

I wander by the gym between first and second periods, slowing a bit, just in case. I hear a familiar psst. Guess who beat me there? I duck inside.

Denise reaches out and touches my arm. But she doesn't yank me under the bleachers this time. Something's changed.

"The building Randy might have entered," she says. "Did you notice what kind of building it was?"

This comes out of the blue. "No, I didn't. I'm really sorry."

"Don't worry. I have an idea," Denise says. "All you have to do is follow him again, more closely. This time, if he goes inside, follow him around. Maybe Kathleen knows someone who lives or works there, you know?"

"Denise, are you sure this is about Kathleen?" I ask. I'm starting to wonder if Denise is weirdly obsessed with the girl.

"I just have a bad feeling. You know?"

Damn. My lame attempts to end my career as a spy completely fizzle.

• • •

The following day I'm a blonde bimbo spy again. I must switch off, so I won't be recognized. I better not run into Mr. Robinson. I tuck the brassy blonde wig under the stupid baseball cap, letting the bangs stick out in front. I have colored hair. How about that?

I repeat the routine—bike to the bus stop, hop on board the bus Randy takes. When Randy pulls the cord, I can then transfer to any bus into town and run less risk of getting caught. Assuming he keeps the same schedule, of course. And, so far, he's done the same thing every Tuesday. Maybe I'm better at spying than I think I am.

• • •

Once again, I follow Randy to the rehab clinic. This time, I walk in right behind him, as if, by accident, we're arriving at the same time. Hide in plain sight is the idea here. I'm just a kid who happens to be here, too.

Randy signs in and says to the pretty receptionist, "How's it going?"

"Fine. Go on back."

Randy asks, "Is he feeling any better?"

The receptionist's brow puckers. "I honestly don't know. Even if I did, you know I'm not supposed to discuss patients, even in passing."

"Yeah, sure." Randy moves off.

Hmm. Randy's visiting someone. And he doesn't want to tell Denise about it. I doubt the "he" is Kathleen. I recognize Randy's tone. I've heard it in my own voice when I talk to my parents.

"Excuse me, young lady." The receptionist startles me.

"Uh, yeah?"

"Can I help you?" She smiles.

"I, uh, I . . ."

The bathroom? Again? What about Mr. Robinson?

She frowns. Say something! I take a deep breath. "I'm with Randy."