Invisible Me

Chapter 49

"Randy, I'm sorry." He looks at me and shakes his head.

"I was just going to tell you. Really. Denise thought you might be seeing another girl behind her back."

Randy's eyes widen. "Oh, my God. Well, that explains a lot." Randy works his jaw a bit but says nothing.

"I'm really sorry." I take deep breath. "Here's the whole truth. I hope you don't hate me for this. But I'll understand if you do."

I consider saying, I'm so sorry. I'm a moron. I chose to help your girlfriend by spying on you because I was the only one she trusted, and she needs a friend. But then I got to know you and now I'm your friend, so I can't betray your secrets to her or anyone. ARGH! I have a headache. I rub my temples with both hands.

"Portia? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Randy," I say to the sidewalk. "Just give me a moment."

I'm not fine. I'm the world's biggest liar. I feel like shit.

"I'll tell you everything. But first, I must call Denise and ask her to please not listen to Mindy or pay any attention to any dumb picture."

When Denise doesn't pick up, I leave a message. "Hi, it's Portia. We need to talk. I'll come over later." I must explain this in person. This is not voicemail material. Even I know that.

I tell Randy about Denise's note, meeting her in the gym, agreeing to follow him. I do not mention Kathleen or Denise's problems with her mother. That would make me a complete traitor. Eventually, I will tell her. All the secrets must come out.

"I'm sorry, Randy, and I'm so ashamed," I say. I fix my gaze on the sidewalk and wait for his verdict.

"That's the most unbelievable story I've ever heard."

I look up. Tears fill my eyes. I've had the wind knocked out of me, as if I'd fallen off my bicycle.

"It's been nice knowing you, Randy," I whisper and start to walk away.

"Hang on, Portia," Randy says. "Okay, I'm . . . shocked, of course. Angry. But I don't hate you." I sneak a sideways look at him. "You don't?"

"Not really. I'm angry at Denise. I wish she'd talked to me instead of using you to spy on me. Why doesn't she trust me?"

I hesitate before answering. "Well, as the world's worst spy, I'm in no position to tell you how to act, but maybe the lack of trust between you goes both ways."

He frowns and blinks twice. "And you've been caught in the middle."

"Nice work, Sherlock."

Randy's expression brightens. Denise has no idea how lucky she is.

Oh, my God! Denise.

"We need to go. Now. We need to find Denise and explain everything."

"Huh?"

"Mindy? The picture? Us? Hugging?" That is so not cool.

For the first time, I'm a passenger on my own bike. I manage to squeeze behind Randy. He takes the handlebars and off we go. I'm hanging on for dear life, the wind whipping through my freaky blue-streaked hair. For some reason, I don't give a rat's ass.

I'm on a mission. I want Denise to know that neither Randy nor I have betrayed her. And I truly want to be her friend. And Mindy isn't a real friend at all. Not really.

I must remind myself that Randy and I are just friends—no matter how cute he looks or how well he treats me. My arms are tight around his waist. "Let's all be friends," I say to myself. Because we can be friends, if we don't blow it.

As Randy pedals like mad, I'm thanking God that we live outside Gainesville, Florida, and not in New York City or Boston. I give thanks for living in a dinky town that has light traffic. We can ride our bikes like motocross riders and live to tell the tale.

When we reach Denise's street, Randy slows to take a hard right turn. The bike angles sharply. I lean into the turn. Please, Randy, don't wipe out.

When we make it, I exhale. Rolling down Denise's street toward her house, the air smells like fresh-mown grass. In big cities, the air smells of car exhaust and factory fumes. There aren't nearly as many trees or lawns. Or places to ride your bike. Just cars and buses and trucks everywhere.

Randy hits loose gravel and the front wheel wobbles. I'm hanging on for dear life. As I fear that Randy is about to completely lose control, we skid to a stop in front of Denise's house. "Well, here we are," Randy says.

"Phew!"Thank, God. Randy turns the wheel toward the curb. I get ready to dismount as Denise, Mindy, and Tara walk out the door.