Now You See Me

CHAPTER SEVEN

WAITING FOR THE SCHOOL bus on Friday morning, Tracey moved away from the other kids and took out her mobile phone.

‘Hello?’

Tracey tried to sound natural. ‘Hi, Amanda, it’s Tracey!’

‘What do you want now?’

Tracey couldn’t blame her for sounding annoyed. This was the fourth time she’d called in three days. In the background, she heard another voice — Nina’s, or maybe Britney’s.

‘Who is it?’ And she heard Amanda respond, ‘Nobody.’ Tracey talked fast before Amanda could hit the hang-up button.

‘I just wanted to remind you to save a seat for me at lunch. I’m planning to sit with you.’

‘Stay away from me!’ Amanda shrieked. And Tracey was disconnected.

Relieved that her morning obligation was finished, Tracey tossed the phone back in her bag. But she still had the lunchtime duty to do — and she wasn’t looking forward to that.

It was one of Ken’s ideas. Yesterday, Tracey had picked up her tray in the cafeteria and carried it over to the table where Amanda and her friends always ate lunch. Britney, Nina and Katie were already there, but Amanda hadn’t arrived yet. The three Evilettes stared at her, as if an alien had just landed at their exclusive gathering place.

‘Amanda invited me to join you guys,’ Tracey had explained.

‘She did?’ Katie asked in disbelief.

‘When?’ Nina wanted to know.

‘Oh, we were on the phone last night, for ages,’ Tracey lied. ‘We talk all the time, you know. Anyway, she said she wanted me to sit with you all from now on.’

Amanda arrived with another of her friends, Sophie. She was clearly taken aback to find Tracey at her table.

‘What are you doing here?’ she asked bluntly.

Nina answered for her. ‘Tracey said you invited her.’

‘I did no such thing!’ Amanda exclaimed.

‘Don’t you remember?’ Tracey asked. ‘Last night, when we were talking on the phone, you said—’

Amanda didn’t let her finish. ‘I didn’t talk to you on the phone last night! I’ve never called you in my life!’

Tracey had tried to look concerned. ‘Are you OK, Amanda? Are you having memory problems?’

At that point, all the girls were looking at Amanda. Amanda was speechless.

Tracey spoke sadly. ‘Are you ashamed of us being friends, Amanda?’ Then she rose, picked up her tray, and walked away.

She had no idea what happened at the table after she left, but she suspected that it hadn’t been too comfortable for Amanda. Today, Tracey planned to arrive at the table after Amanda, and she would thank Amanda for having called last night to apologize for her rude behaviour.

Ken had also given Emily jobs to do. Yesterday, she’d passed a note to Nina in a class they had together.

Nina, if you see Amanda next period, could you tell her she can borrow my yellow sweater this weekend. She’s been begging me to lend it to her.

Despite the fact that Tracey wasn’t crazy about these efforts to destroy Amanda’s reputation, she had to laugh at the notion of the well-dressed queen bee wanting to wear anything of Emily’s.

The bus arrived. Tracey hurried to climb on so she could get a seat at the back, where the driver wouldn’t see her on the phone. They weren’t supposed to use their mobile phones on the bus, but if he couldn’t see her she’d be OK. The passengers never told on each other.

She got her seat, and took her phone out again.

‘Good morning. Harmony House.’

‘Hello, can I speak to Jenna Kelley, please?’

‘I’m sorry, Jenna can’t come to the phone.’

Tracey frowned. This was the same response she’d been getting each time she tried to call her. ‘Well, can you tell me when visiting hours are?’

‘I’m sorry,’ the voice on the other end said again, ‘but Jenna isn’t permitted visitors.’

‘Why not?’ Tracey demanded to know.

‘Have a nice day,’ the voice replied, and the line went dead.

This was too frustrating. Even prisoners in real jails were allowed to have visitors.

When she met Emily on the steps at Meadowbrook’s entrance, she learned that Emily had been getting the same information from Harmony House.

‘I can’t believe that no one is allowed to have visitors in that place,’ Tracey fumed.

‘Maybe Jenna doesn’t want visitors,’ Emily suggested. ‘You know how she doesn’t like people to feel sorry for her.’

Ken was waiting for them just inside the building. He didn’t bother with greetings.

‘What did Amanda say when you called her this morning?’ he asked Tracey.

‘What she said when I called yesterday,’ Tracey said. ‘“Leave me alone.”’ She sighed. ‘Ken, how much longer do we have to do this? I hate going to that table at lunchtime. They don’t want me there and I don’t want to be there.’

‘I’m going to try to get her alone this afternoon,’ Ken said. ‘I’m going to tell her we’ll stop if she’ll confess to what she did to Jenna.’

Emily was looking at Ken quizzically. ‘Ken,’ she began, and then she bit her lip.

‘What?’ he asked.

Emily hesitated. ‘I don’t know how to say this, and — and I know it’s none of my business, but. .’ She looked at Tracey. Tracey had a feeling she knew what Emily was about to say and it was something Tracey had been wondering about herself.

‘Go ahead,’ she said.

Emily spoke carefully. ‘I used to think. . well, we all used to think that there was something going on between you and Amanda. Like, you were sort of interested in each other, you know what I mean?’

Ken didn’t say anything.

Emily went on. ‘But now. . it’s like you totally hate her.’

Ken shrugged. ‘Sure, I hate what she did to Jenna. And the way she put us all in danger when she was involved in the seance.’

Tracey took over. ‘Are you sure it’s not something else too? Like, maybe you’re going overboard because you still have feelings for her.’

Ken glared at her. ‘And maybe you’re defending her because she took over your body and got you a nice haircut.’ And he took off before she had a chance to deny it.

‘I’m going to the bathroom before class,’ Emily told Tracey. ‘Want to come with me?’

Tracey shook her head. ‘I want to find Madame. Maybe she can talk to those Harmony House people so we can visit Jenna. See ya in class.’

‘I won’t be there — I’ve got a dentist appointment,’ Emily told her. ‘I’ll call you tonight.’

Tracey hurried upstairs to Room 209. Madame wasn’t there, but someone else was.

The Queen of Mean, who could usually be found wherever she could see and be seen, and who was always surrounded by friends, was hidden away in an empty classroom and all alone. And she didn’t look mean today. People who were truly mean didn’t bury their faces in their hands.

‘Amanda?’ Tracey murmured.

Amanda looked up. Instantly, her expression changed — but now she seemed more frightened than mean.

‘Leave me alone!’ she hissed. ‘Stop bothering me!’

Tracey took the seat next to her. Ken had said he’d talk to Amanda later, but Tracey figured this was as good a time as any to hit her with the ultimatum.

‘Look, Amanda, you can make us stop bugging you right now. All you have to do is come clean about Jenna.’

‘What are you talking about? I didn’t do anything to Jenna!’

She seemed honestly and sincerely bewildered. Ken would say that Amanda was putting on a good act, but Tracey wasn’t so sure.

‘We think you set up Jenna to get her into trouble. You work in the office, which means you can get your hands on the master key to the lockers.’

Amanda still looked confused. Tracey was going to have to spell it out to her.

‘You put the knife in Jenna’s locker.’

Amanda’s eyes widened. ‘Why would I do that?’

‘Because. . because she was on to you. And you wanted to get rid of her.’

Amanda didn’t blink. ‘On to me about what?’

Tracey took a deep breath. ‘We think you’re the spy, Amanda. We think you’re the one who’s communicating with our enemies: Serena, Clare — all those people who want to use us.

Amanda gasped. ‘Are you nuts? Why would I do something like that?’

‘Because. . because. .’ Tracey tried to think of a way to explain their suspicions which wouldn’t be too hurtful. It was impossible, so she told the truth.

‘Because you’re selfish,’ she said finally. ‘You don’t care about anyone — you only think of yourself. You think you’re better than the rest of us.’

Amanda’s eyes narrowed but she didn’t deny any of the accusations.

‘And you took that job in Mr Jackson’s office so you can find out more about us,’ Tracey finished.

Now Amanda became annoyed. ‘Is that what you think?’

‘Well, you don’t need the job. And I seriously doubt you’re interested in learning office skills. So what other reason could there be?’

Amanda’s lips tightened. Tracey got the feeling there was something she wanted to say but she was keeping it inside.

‘It’s not just me,’ Tracey added. ‘Jenna, Emily, Ken. . we all think you’re spying on us.’

‘Ken. .’ Amanda murmured. ‘So that’s why he’s been acting so nasty.’

‘That’s why we’ve all been acting nasty,’ Tracey corrected her, but she could tell it was only Ken that Amanda cared about.

‘If he only knew why I took that job, he’d feel so bad about treating me like this,’ Amanda declared hotly.

Tracey blinked. ‘Then why don’t you tell him? I mean, us? You could tell me right now why you took that job.’

For once, Amanda seemed uncertain. She bit her lip, and rapped her manicured fingernails on the desk. Finally, she spoke.

‘Can you keep a secret?’

‘That depends,’ Tracey said carefully. She hated the idea of swearing to secrecy before she knew what the secret was. What if Amanda was up to something that might put all the Gifted students in danger?

‘I’m not going to tell you unless you promise not to tell anyone,’ Amanda stated. ‘Not your friends, not Madame, not anyone.’

Tracey was torn, but she knew that if she didn’t give in she’d learn nothing. ‘OK, I promise. Why did you take the job in the principal’s office?’

Despite the fact that they were alone in the classroom, Amanda lowered her voice.

‘Remember when I went into the hospital last month to get my tonsils out?’

Tracey nodded.

‘Well, you know that wasn’t me in the hospital.’

Tracey nodded. ‘Like I told you when you came to school, Emily and I went to visit you at the hospital. We could tell it wasn’t you.’

‘And you remember who I was when I was out of my body.’

Again, Tracey nodded. ‘You were the woman who was working with Serena on that seance scam. I forget her name.’

‘Margaret. And when I was in Margaret’s body, Serena took me to a meeting. And you know who else was there? Clare, the woman who kidnapped us. And that man who claimed he was Jenna’s father.’

‘So there really is a conspiracy,’ Tracey murmured in wonderment.

‘Someone else was there too,’ Amanda said. She did another of her dramatic pauses.

‘Who?’ Tracey asked impatiently.

‘Mr Jackson.’

Tracey drew in her breath sharply. Nobody liked Mr Jackson, and Jenna was always saying he gave her the creeps. But this was a little hard to believe.

‘But Madame says he doesn’t know about us!’ Tracey exclaimed.

‘Madame doesn’t know everything,’ Amanda countered. ‘I’m pretty sure it was Mr Jackson who planted the knife in Jenna’s locker.’

‘But — why?’

‘If he’s in on the conspiracy, then he knows about Jenna’s gift,’ Amanda said. ‘Jenna was in the office earlier today, and Mr Jackson saw her. Maybe he was thinking about us, and he was afraid Jenna read his mind. So he had to get rid of her. I can’t prove it, but he did leave the office just after Jenna was there, even though there were all these people waiting to see him.’

‘Maybe he had to go to the bathroom,’ Tracey offered weakly.

Amanda gave her a sceptical look. ‘Yeah, sure. And maybe he went to the cafeteria and picked up a knife.’

Tracey’s head was spinning. But everything Amanda said made perfectly good sense.

‘What did Madame say when you told her about Mr Jackson?’ Tracey wanted to know.

‘I didn’t tell her,’ Amanda replied. ‘And you’re not going to tell her either.’

‘But Amanda, this is important! If our own principal is working against us, we’re in danger right here at school!’

Amanda agreed. ‘And I’m going to prove it. All by myself. That’s why I’m working in the office — so I can watch him, so I can listen in on his meetings and phone calls, and read his emails. I want to get real evidence.’

‘But you’ve already got evidence,’ Tracey protested. ‘Even if you can’t prove that he put the knife in Jenna’s locker, you know he’s guilty of something. You saw him with your own eyes. Well, Margaret’s eyes. He was meeting with people who have tried to get to us. That proves he’s a bad guy.’

‘It’s not enough,’ Amanda said. ‘Who’s going to believe that I was in someone else’s body?’

‘Madame would.’

Amanda shook her head. ‘That’s not enough. Look, Tracey. You said I think I’m better than the rest of you. Well, socially, that’s true. I am.’

Tracey rolled her eyes. ‘You’re not exactly modest, Amanda.’

Amanda ignored that. ‘But you guys look down on me! You think my gift is worthless, you think I can’t do anything important. Well, I’m going to show you I can.’

So that was what this was all about. It wasn’t enough for Amanda to be the prettiest, the best-dressed, the most popular girl at Meadowbrook. She wanted to be queen of the Gifted class too.

‘Amanda, that’s stupid!’ Tracey declared. ‘We should all be working together on this.’

‘And let someone else get the credit? Forget it!’ Amanda began ticking items off on her fingers. ‘It was Jenna who figured out that Serena was hypnotizing Emily to get winning lottery numbers. Ken saved Jenna from going off with that man who said he was her father. Charles got the gun away from Clare in the bank robbery. You pulled the scarves off Serena at the seance. Well, now it’s my turn to be the hero.’

‘But this is too dangerous!’ Tracey protested.

Amanda looked at her watch. ‘The bell’s about to ring.’ She got up. ‘So now you know I’m not the spy, and you’ll stop hassling me, right?’

‘But how am I going to persuade the others to stop if I can’t tell them what you’re up to?’

‘Find the real spy,’ Amanda said. She started out of the room, but paused at the door and looked back. ‘Did you say you visited me at the hospital?’

Tracey nodded. ‘With Emily.’

Amanda frowned. ‘Did anyone see you there? Were any of my real friends visiting?’

‘Not while we were in the room.’

‘That’s a relief,’ Amanda said, and left.

Tracey didn’t even feel insulted — by now, she was used to the way Amanda protected her social reputation. Besides, she was still reeling from Amanda’s revelation and she couldn’t give much thought to anything else.

Mr Jackson, their very own principal! He wasn’t exactly loved by the students, but he was an important man in a highly respected position. He was an educator! How could someone like that be a criminal?

She supposed it was possible that Amanda had just made up the story, to throw suspicion off herself. But Tracey didn’t think so. Amanda just didn’t seem like she had that much imagination. And it was Mr Jackson who had brought Serena into their class. .

It was all beginning to make sense. If they were in on this together since the beginning, Serena would have told Jackson what she’d learned about their gifts. But Serena wasn’t around any more, and someone was still feeding Jackson information. Someone in the class.

But if Amanda wasn’t the spy, then who was? There was still one person she considered to be capable of treachery — Charles. Now was as good a time as ever to check out his private life. So, just before the Gifted class, she ducked into the bathroom.

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and conjured up an image of her former self, friendless and lonely. She dredged up sad memories of isolation, alienation, feeling worthless and unimportant. She concentrated intensely on the emotions she’d known back then and the sensation of not being seen. She visualized herself fading away, and then she started to feel it. The sensation of being weightless, lighter than air. .

She opened her eyes and looked at the mirror over the sink. There was no reflection. She was getting better and better at this! Pleased with herself, she left the bathroom, went upstairs, and positioned herself outside Room 209, where she could hear what was going on.

There wasn’t much to hear, though. Apparently, Madame had set them to work on some sort of writing assignment, and her classmates were industriously scribbling away in silence. So she amused herself by roaming around the building, dancing in front of oblivious hall monitors and peeking through classroom windows. She considered going to the office and checking out Mr Jackson’s activities — but there was always the chance she might inadvertently reappear. She couldn’t risk it.

She came back to Room 209 just before the bell rang. When the door opened, Charles was the first to emerge. That wasn’t unusual — he could make that wheelchair go very fast, and the others stepped aside to let him pass. Tracey was never sure if that was because they were trying to be kind or if they were afraid he’d run them over. She suspected that Charles would prefer the latter reason.

Ken was right behind him. She thought she might tell him what she was up to. It was comforting to know he could hear her when she was invisible, when no one else could. But Ken brushed by her so quickly, she didn’t have a chance, and Charles was moving in the opposite direction.

People jumped out of the way as his motorized chair tore down the hall to the lift. As far as Tracey knew, he was the only student permitted to use it. She hopped in with him, and rode down to the main floor.

She’d never paid attention to how Charles got home. Today, for the first time, she noticed the white van parked just in front of the exit. A man stood by the vehicle, and when Charles appeared, he opened the back door. A ramp slid out, and the man pushed Charles’s chair up into the van. Tracey stayed close behind, and got inside just before the man closed the door.

It wasn’t until the van pulled away that she got a look at Charles’s face. It was red, and she wondered why. Was it from the exertion he’d expended, hurrying out of school? Or maybe he was embarrassed by the van and the assistance he’d needed to get into it.

Funny how she’d never thought about how Charles might feel, being unable to walk. She didn’t even know how the situation came to be — if he’d been in an accident or something like that. It dawned on her that she’d never had any sort of private conversation with Charles. She didn’t think anyone in the Gifted class knew much about him. She doubted that anyone had ever been invited to his home.

It was a very nice house, all on one level but large, with a fine, freshly mowed lawn. At the end of the drive she saw a couple of bicycles leaning against the garage wall, and a basketball net hanging over the door. She remembered Madame saying something to Charles about having brothers. Hadn’t Charles said that they were ashamed of him?

The man pushed Charles out of the van and started wheeling him up the drive. ‘Beat it!’ Charles growled. ‘I can do it.’ The man released him and Charles took control of his chair. But instead of continuing up the drive he turned the chair so it rolled over the grass, making ugly tracks on the lawn.

‘Charles!’ Tracey exclaimed, forgetting for a moment that he couldn’t hear her. Not that it would have made Charles move back on to the drive. He had a tight smile on his face that made her think he was messing up the lawn on purpose.

The woman who opened the front door obviously thought so too.

‘Charles!’ she cried out. ‘Stop that! Look what you’re doing to the grass!’

Charles rolled himself up the ramp and right past her without a word of greeting or apology. Then he turned to the right, accelerated, and sped into what looked to Tracey like a very formal living room with a white carpet — over which there were now streaks of brown and green from the wheels of Charles’s chair.

‘Oh, Charles!’ There was a note of resignation in the woman’s voice, which led Tracey to believe this wasn’t the first time Charles had pulled a stunt like this.

Charles stopped in the middle of the room and looked at a fancy vase filled with flowers on a pedestal. The vase rose up, moved towards Charles, then fell and broke, sending flowers and shards of glass all over the floor.

‘Charles, why are you doing this?’ the woman wanted to know.

Charles ignored her. He crossed the room, raced down a long hallway and turned into a room. The door slammed shut before Tracey could reach it.

Astonished, she looked back at the woman to catch her reaction to this little performance. At first, she’d presumed this was Charles’s mother, but now she realized she must be someone who worked here. Probably the person who would have to clean up the mess. She wondered what would happen when the woman reported Charles’s behaviour to his parents.

She couldn’t get into Charles’s room now because he’d closed the door. The front door was still open though, so she went out to check if she could look into Charles’s window and see what he was doing.

But something else distracted her. A couple of boys were now on the carport, shooting baskets. As she moved closer, she saw the family resemblance. Both boys had Charles’s red curls and freckles. They were close in age, maybe fifteen and sixteen.

She wondered if they were both on the basketball team at the high school. Tracey didn’t know much about basketball, but they looked like they played pretty well — most of their attempts sent the ball through the basket.

But then one of the boys threw the ball towards the basket and it veered off in another direction. The other boy grabbed the ball, tossed it, and it went straight up in the air, so high that it disappeared. Then it came down so fast both boys scampered away to avoid getting hit on the head by it.

They both looked annoyed, but not surprised. ‘Charles!’ one of them bellowed.

That was when Tracey noticed an open window, and Charles looking out of it.

‘Charles, knock it off,’ the taller boy called out.

‘Make me!’ Charles responded. To Tracey, he sounded like a five-year-old.

The other boy moved towards the window and spoke calmly. ‘Why don’t you come out and play with us?’

‘Yeah, I’ll run around and chase the ball like you,’ Charles said sarcastically.

‘You can play in your chair,’ his brother said. ‘You know there are whole teams who play basketball in wheelchairs. I’ve seen them on the Sports Channel.’

‘If I can’t play like a normal person, I don’t want to play,’ Charles replied.

The boy sighed. ‘OK, don’t play. But you don’t have to mess up our game, OK?’

Charles uttered a word that would have sent him straight to Mr Jackson if he’d said it at school. The ball flew up from the ground and settled on the roof of the house.

‘Thanks a lot, Charles,’ one of the boys muttered. Charles’s window slammed shut.

Maybe he’d be coming out of his room now, Tracey thought. As she started back towards the door, a car pulled into the drive. The boys got out of the way and the car went into the garage. A few seconds later, a nice-looking woman with a shopping bag in her hand emerged.

‘Hey, Mom,’ the boys called out to her.

‘Need a hand?’ one of them added.

‘No thanks, dear, I can manage,’ she said cheerfully. She paused and looked at the lawn. The cheerful expression vanished. ‘Oh, no. Charles must be in one of his moods.’

The woman Tracey had seen earlier opened the door for the woman. ‘I’m so sorry, Mrs Temple. I couldn’t stop him. I’m cleaning the mess in the living room now.’

‘I’ll help you,’ Charles’s mother said.

Tracey skipped on ahead of her so she could get back inside the house. She was interested in seeing how Mrs Temple was going to deal with Charles’s behaviour. Would he be grounded, lose privileges?

But Mrs Temple didn’t even go to Charles’s room. She disappeared for a few minutes, and when she returned she was carrying a vacuum cleaner. She joined the other woman in the living room.

This must be normal behaviour for Charles, Tracey realized. His mother was upset, but she didn’t seem at all surprised by the mess he’d made.

She stood there, watching the women clean the carpet and waiting for Charles to come out of his room. Suddenly, out of the blue, a dish came floating across the room. It carried a stack of cookies, and as it whizzed past her, cookies fell off and dropped on the carpet. Mrs Temple sighed, and put the vacuum cleaner down. Picking up cookies along the way, she kept pace with the plate. Tracey went too. When the plate reached Charles’s door, it opened. Mrs Temple went in, and Tracey followed.

Charles was on his bed, watching TV. He barely glanced at his mother. He made the plate settle on his lap, took a cookie and crammed it into his mouth.

This was something new, Tracey realized. Charles had summoned the plate from another room that was not in his line of vision. She’d never before seen Charles move something without being able to see it. So his gift was evolving and changing too, like hers. But he hadn’t shared this with the class.

‘Charles, I want to talk to you,’ his mother said.

Charles didn’t respond. His mother took the remote control and switched off the TV. That got a response.

‘Hey!’

For a moment, Tracey felt like she was watching a replay of what had gone on in Martin’s house. There was a big difference, though, between Martin’s bullying grandfather and Charles’s mother. Mrs Temple sat on the edge of her son’s bed, and gazed down at him with serious concern.

‘Charles, why do you do these things?’ she asked him.

‘What things?’ he mumbled.

His mother’s voice became sterner. ‘Things like ruining the lawn, when you could have gone up the drive to the back door.’

‘I just wanted to see what it felt like, to be on the lawn. I would have walked on it but I can’t walk, in case you haven’t noticed.’

‘Why did you make the vase fall?’

‘Because I wanted to smell the flowers. Only I couldn’t because I can’t stand up.’

She indicated the plate of cookies. ‘You summoned your snack here, and now there are cookies all over the floor. Were you just too lazy to go to the kitchen for them?’

‘I’m not lazy!’

‘Then why did you use your gift?’

Charles pressed his lips together tightly, as if he was trying to keep the words from coming out. His mother waited, but when he still didn’t respond to her question, she sighed and shook her head.

‘I don’t know what to do with you, Charles.’

He had an answer for that. ‘Just leave me alone.’

Silently, Mrs Temple rose and left the room. Tracey remained. Was Charles like this all the time at home? she wondered. Or was this an especially bad day for him? She recalled the expression on his face when he saw his brothers playing basketball. Maybe that was what set off this wave of bad behaviour.

She couldn’t be absolutely, positively sure, but she thought maybe she knew why Charles acted like this. He felt helpless, and he used his gift to feel powerful.

He wasn’t helpless, of course. Being in a wheelchair might give him a disadvantage, but lots of people had disadvantages. Charles used his gift so he wouldn’t have to deal with the fact that he couldn’t walk. He was hung up on being helpless.

She could understand, because she’d given in to helplessness herself. She blamed her parents for ignoring her — but what had she done to help herself? She’d wallowed in self-pity. Amanda had shown her how to break out. And it wasn’t just the clothes, the haircut, the make-up. It was learning to stand up for herself.

That was what Charles had to do — stand up. He couldn’t do it physically, but it was Charles’s attitude that kept him down, not his legs.

He wasn’t the class spy. He was just another sad kid who wanted to be like everyone else. And she could help him. She couldn’t take over his body like Amanda had taken over hers. But she could talk to him, she could be a friend, and maybe he’d open up to her. His family loved him, but they couldn’t understand his needs. She could, because she’d been there.

She wanted to help him, and she had to do it now. When else would she be able to corner him alone like this? If she could make a real connection with him, maybe she could encourage him to connect with the Gifted class, open himself up to the group experience. She knew she couldn’t appear right in front of him, so she dashed out of the room and out of the open front door.

Behind a bush where she knew she wasn’t visible from the house, she closed her eyes and concentrated on becoming visible. She envisioned herself as real and solid, and commanded her body to reappear. When she felt nothing happen, she gritted her teeth and worked harder, concentrating, focusing, directing all her mental energies into becoming herself. She couldn’t remember the process ever taking this much energy before.

Opening her eyes, she realized why. She was still invisible.

And she began to get nervous.