The Invisibles - 24 Pgs

8/9/2019 The Invisibles - 24 Pgs

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The Invisiblesby Elizabeth Marchand

Sara was 10 years old when she realized that she was invisible. She had suspected as

much, but now she knew for sure.

Some way to celebrate your 10th birthday. Funny, she had had something completely

different in mind. Alas, when youre invisible you dont have a whole lot of say in what happens

in your life.

Sara, I need to work late tonight. You can stop at McDonalds and get something for

dinner. Then I want you back home.

But Mom! You said wed plan my birthday party tonight.

Priorities Sara. Youll understand when youre older.

But...you promised.

I also promised to put food on the table and a roof over our head. Which one would you

like me to keep?

Sara stayed silent. This was getting her nowhere.

Her mother breezed out of the room, stuffing papers into her briefcase.

Sara followed her, and gave it one last shot. If Dads not busy, maybe he can help.

Sure. He cant be bothered to write a child support check, but you think hes gonna

swoop in and plan a kids birthday party. Good luck with that.

I just thought...

I wish youd quit making such a federal case out of this. Its just a birthday. You had one

last year, youll have one next year. So did I and your father and the bum in front of McGintys.

Its no big deal.


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Case closed. End of discussion. Zip it, seal it, tie it with a bow. So much for Saras Big

Birthday Bash. Ill come right home after school Have a good day at work.

Sarcasm wont get you anywhere.I didnt...never mind.

Right. I have to run. Dont forget to lock the door when you leave and dont wait up for

me. I want you in bed by nine oclock.

Okay, Sara said quietly. Maybe she would just go to bed now and skip the in-between

stuff. She waited to hear the car pull out of the garage before she brought her breakfast dishes to

the sink.

Invisible. She was sure that if she walked out of the house this morning and never came

back, her mother would barely notice. Just one less petty annoyance.

Sara had no illusions about her importance in her mothers life. In fact, she was pretty

sure that the only time she crossed Kaitlin Millers mind was when Sara demanded attention.

The minute her mother stepped into her Saab, all thoughts of her 10 year old daughter

evaporated more quickly than the cars exhaust fumes.

Sara silently cleaned her dishes, arranging them carefully in the dishwasher. She grabbed a

brown bag and threw in a package of ring dings, some nacho chips and a half a package of

cookies. She briefly considered an aging banana that was sitting on the counter, but vetoed it in

favor of a bottle of lemon-lime soda. That would be as close as she would come to her fruit for

the day.

She was lucky in that respect. She knew that some of the girls at school had mothers that

were constantly nagging them about what they ate and how much they weighed. Saras mother

took no notice of her daughters sugar laden diet or her less than svelte physique. Sara was pretty

sure that her mother had no idea that she had gained almost 40 lbs. in the last year alone.

What did it matter. Size, shape, weight, none of that mattered when you were

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invisible.

Sara threw her lunch into her knapsack and slung the pack over her shoulder. She stepped

out of the house, pulling the door closed behind her. She was halfway down the walk, when shestopped and returned to check the door.

The young girl set out again. Sara hated walking to school, but it beat taking the bus.

Before they had changed the routes, she would stand with the rest of the local kids, waiting for

their bumble bee colored conveyance.

Their bus driver, Mr. Magoo, yup, Mr. Magoo, was really nice. He wasnt like the

cartoon character at all. He was a big man with a kind face, who looked like he had been born

in the drivers seat of that big, yellow bus. Sara knew he had feet and legs, but she had never

seen him use them. He issued orders from his seat, like some great potentate. For all Sara knew,

Mr. Magoo lived in that seat.

The kids at the bus stop were not as nice. Most of them just ignored her, looked right

through her, except for Tommy and his gang. Apparently Tommy Langley could see her a little

bit, just enough to know that he didnt like her.

It was the same every morning. Sara Miller Diller, shes such a Pillar. What Tommy

lacked in imagination, he made up for in meanness.

Sara would try to ignore the taunting, but it would just escalate. Tommy had no

reservations about physical abuse, and soon he was chasing her, knocking her books to the

ground and pulling her hair. Mr. Magoo would always make Tommy stop, but by then she was

already upset and dishevelled.

She tried to talk to her mother about it once, but as usual, Kaitlin Miller was much too

self involved to be any help to her daughter.

When they moved the bus stop three blocks further away, Sara made the unilateral

decision to start walking to school.

She walked self consciously, with her head down, feeling every one of those 40 new

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pounds. Sara might be invisible, but she was not incorporeal. She felt every limitation of her 10

year old, less than perfect body. At least it wasnt raining or snowing.

She was half way to school when Billy Dunn breezed by on his bike. This was when shemost wished she wasnt invisible. Billy was so cute and he seemed so nice. At least he didnt

tease her like Tommy did. Maybe that was because he didnt see her. Every day he rode his bike

past her as if she didnt exist.

Sara guessed there were worse things in life than being ignored. She just couldnt seem to

think of any right now. What she wouldnt give to be seen by Billy Dunn.

If she had been able to have her birthday party, she would have invited Billy. If, if, if. Oh

well, like her mother said, there was always next year.

Sara walked into the cold glass and concrete structure. There wasnt anything homey or

welcoming about Stuben intermediate school. It always gave her a chill, walking into the

buildings gaping maw. She felt like she was sacrificing herself to some huge, insatiable monster

that would roll her around in its gullet until three oclock, when it would spit her out like a

peach pit.

She timidly approached the wall of lockers. Number 252 - 12 right, 18 left, 34 right, or

was it 32 right, two spins or one. She could never remember. Sara would have loved to forgo the

locker experience completely, but that would mean carting 50 pounds of books on her walk

home. Anything she could do to reduce that load was worth the effort.

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Chapter 2

Tommys head lurched forward on his neck as he was hit from behind. His ears started

ringing again. He hated that noise. He had watched a movie once, where they had tortured a

guy by making him wear headphones and listen to a high-pitched noise. Eventually, the guy went

crazy. Tommy wondered if he would suffer a similar fate. Sometimes he wished he were deaf.

That would solve a lot of problems.

Didnt I tell you to put more beer in the fridge, you useless brat?

Tommy dodged just in time to avoid another punch to the head, but he wasnt fast

enough to avoid the kick that followed.

Were out of beer. You finished the last case, Tommy said, grabbing his shin.

You stupid son of a bitch. Why didnt you tell your mother?

Tommys mother stood at the stove, silently stirring a pot of oatmeal. Tommy had told his

mother. She must have forgotten. Not surprising. At 26 years old, Donna Langley was trying to

take care of five kids while dodging an abusive, shiftless husband. Tommy read the fear in her

eyes.

Im sorry. I forgot to tell her. Tommy stood there, waiting for the next, inevitable smack.

He had learned that it was usually better to stand there and take the abuse than try to evade it. If

you made Bob Langley work too hard to dole out his punishment, it was inevitably worse.

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This smack to the head brought tears to Tommys eyes. He quickly wiped them away. That

was the second rule. Crying just instigated his masochistic step father. Sympathy and mercy were

two words that did not even exist in Bob Langleys vocabulary.Langley abruptly turned his attention to Tommys mother. Finish taking care of those

brats. I need you to go get me some beer.

Donna Langley silently took the pot off the stove and put it in the sink. She grabbed the

baby out of the high chair and made her way to the bedroom to get dressed. Bob sauntered back

to his throne in the tv room; king of his castle once more.

As soon as his step father was settled in his chair, Tommy went to the sink and got the

pot of congealing oatmeal. Like hungry birds, his three younger siblings sat, waiting expectantly,

spoons poised for action. Tommy filled each of their bowls, adding sugar and milk. A mild

feeding frenzy ensued.

Tommy ran water in the empty pot, while he threw together some lunches for himself and

his two twin brothers. They would be heading to school, while his two infant sisters would stay

with his mother.

Tommy hustled the young boys out of the house to wait at the corner for the bus. Then

he picked his four year old sister up and brought her to her bedroom to help her get dressed.

His mother was already there, changing the baby. They didnt speak, but Tommys mother came

up behind him and planted a kiss on his cheek.

A traitorous tear rolled out of the corner of his left eye. I have to go to school, he

mumbled, as he sat his sister on the bed. He left the room quickly and gathered his lunch and

books before sliding out the back door.

Tommy ran to the bus stop. He hated school, but it still beat being at home when he was

there. Bob Langley would disappear for days at a time. Tommy lived for those occasions, but

dreaded the mans return. His stepfather was usually at some stage of being drunk or hung over,

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but at the back side of an extended bender, he was even more vicious than usual.

Tommy didnt understand why his mother stayed with him. Sure, it would be scary,

leaving with five kids in tow, but no more scary than being used as a punching bag on a dailybasis. It wasnt as if they needed him. Bob Langley definitely took more than he gave. What

money he brought into the house from his disability insurance, he drank away, and then some.

Tommy pulled a curtain over those thoughts. He was at the bus stop. He scanned the

crowd of kids mulling around on the side of the road. She wasnt here today either. He couldnt

believe that he actually missed her, but he did.

Hed been looking for Sara at school, but so far he hadnt seen her. She was two years

younger than he, so they didnt share any classes. Maybe she was sick. It had been over a week

since Tommy had seen her at the bus stop.

He hoped she was alright. Maybe he should go to her house and ask about her. Nah!

That would be lame.

Hey. Any of you guys know where Piller Miller is? Its kind of boring here with no one to

tease?

They all shook their heads in the negative.

I guess well just have to find someone to fill in for the little blimp, Smitty said, stepping

threateningly toward a little third grader.

Nah. I dont want to have to break in someone new, Tommy said. Well just wait for

Miller.

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Chapter 3

Billy! Could you please put this skateboard away before someone breaks their neck?

Sure Mom. Sorry.

You boys need to be more careful with your toys. Jimmy, I almost ran over your bike in

the driveway yesterday.

Sorry Dad.

So, who has what this week? Charlie Dunn asked his wife.

Jill Dunn answered with a laundry list of events and practice times. Can you pick the

boys up from karate class on Wednesday? Also, I have a hairdressers appointment on Saturday,

so Ill be late for the baseball game. I need you to pick up some snacks for the rally Friday

night.

Whos picking them up after the rally?

I am, and Barbara is going to do transport to and from the dance.

Billy zoned out after the first sentence. He would love to burn that stupid schedule book.

Billy loved his parents, and he knew they loved him, but sometimes he got so tired.

What he wouldnt give for just one day with no lessons, classes, practices or games.

It wasnt that he didnt enjoy the activities, but enough was enough. Sometimes it seemed

like there wasnt a minute of the day that wasnt planned down to the smallest detail.

Billy enjoyed sports, but he didnt enjoy the pressure. He was lucky - he guessed. He was a

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very athletic kid and he excelled easily at everything he tried. His brother Jimmy was not so

fortunate. Jimmy was slightly overweight and less than perfectly coordinated.

The result was that Billy, the oldest of the two, was the focus of their parents attention.They continued to keep Jimmy involved in various activities, but for the most part, there was no

expectation that he would ever excel at any of them.

Im gonna take my bike to school today.

Okay, but be careful, his mother shouted after him.

Billy hopped on his bike. He loved this ride to school. It gave him time to be alone, to

think. Sometimes his life felt so crowded.

He wasnt a stupid kid. Billy Dunn knew that he had it pretty good. There were a lot of

kids at his school who had only one parent, or parents that didnt care about them nearly as

much as Billys parents cared about him. Some of them were poor. They never got new bikes or

skateboards or video games, and some of them had to wear hand me down clothes.

Once, Billy had seen a kid wearing a jacket that his mom had given to the Salvation Army,

just because Billy didnt like the color and wouldnt wear it. Billy didnt say anything because he

didnt want to embarrass the kid, but other kids started teasing him for wearing a jacket with

someone elses name on it. The kids name was Todd. Billy jumped in, saying he had loaned the

jacket to the kid, and what of it? That shut them up. It usually did. Billy had that effect on

people. Maybe because of his success in sports, Billy got a lot of respect at school, even from the

bullies.

Oh ya! In most respects, he really was the golden child, but hed trade it all in a second,

to be just a normal kid; no spotlight, no pressure to be the best.

Billy felt trapped. Like a rat on an exercise wheel, he kept running and running but

getting nowhere. Nothing he was doing made any real difference. He didnt want to waste his

time worrying about whether they would make the finals, or if they would beat Temple for the

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champion cup. There were real problems in the world. Global warming was a reality. Kids his

age were dying every day from drugs, violence or poverty. Changes in weather patterns were

killing whole ecosystems. How could any sane person waste one minute worrying about a footballscore or a wrestling match?

There was so much to worry about. Billy couldnt do anything about it but worry.

Everyone said he was such a serious boy, like that was a good thing. The pressure was

enormous. Billy felt it bearing down on him from all angles. He just needed to release it.

He swerved just in time to avoid riding into an oncoming car.

Hey kid, watch where youre going!

Billy stood there, straddling his bike while he caught his breath. Hed better pay

attention, or he wouldnt have to worry about anything anymore because hed just be a big,

bloody spot on the pavement.

And so what if he was? Sure, his parents and his brother would miss him. People might

cry for a couple of days, but then things would go right back to the way theyd been. Life would

go on as if hed never been here at all.

Billy wasnt suicidal, he wasnt even terribly unhappy. After all, what did he have to be

unhappy about? He just wondered why he always felt so empty. He stopped at the Quik Mart.

Instead of going into the store, Billy walked his bike to the back of the building, near the

dumpster. He propped his bike against the brick wall behind the metal trash receptacle. Sitting

among the litter of rancid banana peels and candy wrappers, Billy rolled up his right sleeve.

He wondered what his parents would say if they could see the weblike network of fine

scars tracing their way up his arm. Fortunately, the kids at school never noticed, or said anything

if they did. He would have to start on another area. Basketball season would be starting soon

and that meant short sleeved shirts. He still had some time though.

Billy pulled a mini box cutter out of his jeans pocket. It was bright red. An

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appropriate color choice he supposed. He changed the blade every day so it would be sharp and

clean.

Methodically, he slid the blade out of its sheath and laid it against his skin. Slowly, heincreased the pressure until a bright red bubble formed near the tip of the blade. Billy drew the

instrument back in a line that circumvented his forearm, less than an inch away from the bright

blue vein at his wrist. Maybe some day he would move the blade down that final inch.

He watched in fascination as the blood pooled in an angry line across his forearm.

Billy couldnt remember when or why he had started cutting. Even as a little kid, hed had

a fascination with blood. He would incessantly pick at scabs, just to see them bleed, but it was

more than that.

When the pressure was building up, Billy had to find a way to release it or explode.

Cutting was the only thing that worked. It was like releasing the air from an over inflated tire.

He could almost see the pressure escaping as the blood came pouring out. For a brief period,

Billy would feel relaxed, at peace, until the pressure started to build again.

He knew what he was doing was wrong, crazy even, but he couldnt stop. Billy craved the

release that cutting gave him, like an alcoholic craves his next drink. He couldnt have stopped if

he wanted to, and he didnt want to.

Billy pulled out a small packet. He removed the antiseptic wipe from its seal and gently

blotted the fresh cut. He savored the mild stinging sensation. He refolded the wipe and tucked it

neatly into its package before flinging it into the dumpster. Billy may be a lot of things, including

crazy, but he was not a litter bug. In fact, you could say that was part of his personal credo.

Dont be part of the problem. Billy also subscribed to the Dr.s motto, was it the Hypocratic

oath? Do no harm. He felt that, any day he made it through without intentionally harming or

hurting someone elses feelings, was a good day.

You could strive to make things better, but you couldnt count on it. Even the best of

intentions could backfire. What you could do, was abstain from intentionally hurting someone.

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Hurtful words, hurtful acts; you could always make a decision not to do those things. For Billy,

this was pretty easy. On the few occasions when he had hurt someone else, he had also

suffered.It was like in the movies, when the evil guy fires the death ray into the mirror and it

comes back at him. Thats the way Billy felt when he saw someone in pain, he could feel that

pain reflecting from that person back onto him. There was a word for it; empathy - Billy just had

too much empathy.

He rolled down his sleeve and grabbed his bike. Hed better get moving or hed be late for

school.

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Chapter 4

Sara moved through the crowded halls like a spectral being. Her bulky body occasionally

brushed against someone, sometimes eliciting a rude remark, but more often than not, going

completely unnoticed. Invisible girl strikes again!

She went from class to class on automatic pilot, the same as yesterday, and the day before,

and the day before that.

Sara, please translate this sentence for me.

Sara spoke self-consciously, but translated the sentence with ease. Languages came easily to

her, which was kind of unusual for a girl who spoke so infrequently.

She liked her French teacher, Miss La Rouche. Miss La Rouche was everything that Sara

was not; self-confident, pretty, graceful, thin, and she had travelled everywhere. Sara would sit,

mesmerized, as the young teacher told the class of backpacking trips through England and

Europe. Riding the Eurail across the country on a student pass and staying in youth hostels and

country farm houses. It all sounded so wonderful.

Sara was sure that she could be visible in a different place. She could travel, go to Europe

and people would see her. Sara couldnt wait until she was old enough.Her eyes glazed over, as she imagined going to Paris, where she would meet a handsome

European boy and fall hopelessly in love. They would stroll along the Champs Elyses and watch

the stars light up around the Eiffel Tower. He would whisk her away to ski resorts in Sweden and

they would lie on the sands of the Mediterranean shore. They would explore the ruins in Greece

and the Pyramids in Egypt. He would buy them a lovely country home in England where they

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would ride their horses over the lush green fields. And, she would never come back to this place.

Sara attende.

Je mexcuse, Madame La Rouche.The bell rang to signal lunch period. Sara wedged herself out of the too tight desk, trying

not to take it with her when she stood up. Oddly enough, despite her invisibility, someone

always seemed to notice when she did something awkward. Life was funny like that. God, if there

was a God, had an awfully weird sense of humor.

Sara took her time going to the locker to get her lunch. There was no rush. No one was

waiting for her.

Although eating was Saras favorite pastime, she hated eating lunch at school. Eating was a

sport best played in private. It lost much of its appeal when done with an audience.

Sitting in the cafeteria, alone, Sara felt as though all eyes were on her. She felt them boring

into her back as she grabbed a tray and some napkins. Sara felt the stares, searing into her skin

as she looked for an unoccupied table.

She sat there, quietly. She was adrift in a sea of normal, pre-pubescent school kids. Sara

watched silently as, time after time, the other kids steered clear of her table, giving it a wide

berth. No one wanted to risk being attacked by any wayward fat cooties.

She opened her lunch bag, infinitely conscious of the loud, crackling noise it made. Sara

pulled out the contents, one by one, until the bag lay like an empty carcass on her tray.

Looking down at her food, Sara felt the heat of dozens of pairs of eyes. They were all

watching expectantly. What was the fat kid eating today?

Hi. Is it okay if I sit here?

Sara looked up in surprise. It was a girl, about her age, maybe older, with her hair pulled

back into a long braid that ran down the center of her back and the worst case of freckles Sara

had ever seen.

I wouldnt suggest it. This isnt what you would call the popular table.

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It is if I sit here, the girl said, putting her tray down and extending her hand. My name

is Taylor. Im new here.

Sara looked at the extended hand as if it was a poisonous snake. She looked around forthe cameras. Maybe she was being punked.

Dont worry, the girl said, presenting both of her hands, no green slime, no joy buzzers

and I dont have malaria. I know, I was tested last week, she laughed, thrusting her hand

forward again.

Sara shook the hand timidly.

Thats not much of a handshake, Taylor said boisterously. Well have to work on that.

The new girl dropped herself into the chair next to Sara. What are you eating? This

cafeteria hash looks pretty scary.

Sara protectively encircled her lunch with one arm, as she slid her chair farther away.

Okay, so youre not interested in sharing, Taylor laughed, but I told you, Im not

contagious. Theres no need to move your chair to Siberia.

Im warning you. Sitting with me isnt going to help your reputation.

Were kids, were not supposed to be worried about reputations.

Sara looked at the new girl as if she had two heads. All these kids care about is their

reputation.

Didnt your mother ever tell you that just because everyone is jumping off a bridge, it

doesnt mean you have to? Besides, what is having a good reputation in the fifth grade going to

do for me? Will it get me into the best college, or land me the highest paying job? No! All it will

get me is an invitation to Suzie Dimples birthday party.

Sara laughed. Ive never met anyone like you.

Thats right, because Im unique, and so are you. You just dont know it yet. Hey, those

cookies look really good. I guess Im a bit of a chocoholic, Taylor said, laughing.

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Sara looked down at her lunch. She slowly slid the package of cookies in the other girls

direction.

Taylor eagerly took a handful of the confections. Thanks, these sure do beat this cafeteria

slop, she said as she popped a cookie into her mouth.

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Chapter 5

Tommy strutted around the school halls like cock of the walk. Things might be pretty

crappy at home, but here at school, he was sitting pretty high. Hed earned it though. Tommy

had made his mark early. He had bullied the losers and beat up the tough kids. It had been a

piece of cake. It was nearly impossible to be afraid of some punk teenager when you had a

grisled 200 lb. drunk waiting at home to beat on you. He guessed, if nothing else, he had to

thank his stepfather for toughening him up.

It was almost noon. Hed better grab his lunch. Tommy slammed a small boy, with coke

bottle glasses, into the wall of lockers. The kid cowered there like a frightened rabbit. Tommy

thrust his hand out and waited while the kid fumbled around in his pockets, withdrawing a

crumpled five dollar bill. Tommy grabbed the bill and shoved the kid away. Next time, I would

appreciate newer bills. These thing must be covered in germs.

The kid scurried away as if his shoes were on fire. Tommy chuckled. He would never

admit to being a masochist like his stepfather, but he did enjoy seeing that look of fear on a kids

face as he scampered out of range.

Tommy made his way to the cafeteria, his entourage falling in line behind him. By the

time they reached the dining hall, they were eight strong. He grabbed a tray from the stack and

walked to the front of the line. The other kids receded like the evening tide, making way for him

and his group.

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He took his time making his selections. Most of these spoiled brats thought the cafeteria

food sucked, but for Tommy, it was usually his best meal of the day. His mother was not a great

cook, and what money was left after his step asshole finished buying what he considered to bethe essentials; booze and smokes, well, there was not much left for fine dining. Tommy added

several pieces of bread to a heaping plate of american chop suey.

He approached a table and grinned smugly when its occupants nearly broke their necks

vacating their chairs. He sat down and looked around. This was what it felt like to be master of

all you surveyed. In this world, he was king. He should be happier. It was weird, most of the

time, he had this hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach. He couldnt get rid of it. There were

times when he was too preoccupied to notice it, but when things quieted down, there is was,

right where hed left it. Then he saw her. Without noticing, his face wrapped itself into a

genuine smile.

What are you so happy about? one of the guys asked.

Nothin. Days half over and Im lookin forward to shootin some hoop. How bout you

guys? He tried to look away, but couldnt. Sara was sitting across the room with some girl hed

never seen before. He was really glad to see her, he didnt know why. For sure, she wasnt much

to look at. She had no figure, unless round counted. That didnt seem to matter though.

Whenever he looked at her, all he could see was her eyes. They were chocolate brown,

surrounded by the longest, blackest, lashes he had ever seen, and they were just full of

expression. She could probably go for days without saying a word; her eyes said it all.

He tried to look elsewhere, but she was like a magnet. No matter how hard he tried, she

always drew him back.

Whats so interesting Tommy?

He couldnt tell them the truth. Theyd think he was nuts. Cool Tommy Langley,

interested in some 10 year old, a kid. Sara was only two years younger than he was, but as far as

his group was concerned, she might as well still be in diapers. And, she was guilty of the most

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unforgivable sin - she was fat. Tommy thought Sara had a really pretty face, but that wasnt the

first thing you noticed about her.

Fat kids were at the very bottom of the school hierarchy. Just about everyone knew betterthan to pick on the retarded kids, but the fat kids were fair game. Being fat was a stigma you

didnt overcome unless you were also tough, and Sara was not tough.

Tommy didnt like her that way anyhow. Even at 12, there was a lot of pressure to chase

the other sex. The girls flirted and the boys pursued. Most of the guys only had a vague idea of

what they would do if they actually caught a girl, but that didnt stop them from trying.

There were a lot of pretty girls in his class. Tommy would talk to them, just so no one

thought he was weird, but he wasnt really interested in any of them. Not like Sara. He felt like

he could really talk to Sara, that she would really listen, and better yet, that she would

understand.

Unfortunately, whenever he got near her, he got nervous, and the guys were around, and

before he knew it, he was teasing her and making fun of her.

Not seeing her for two weeks had made him realize how much he missed her, how much

he really wanted to get to know her. The question was how?

Was he willing to totally sacrifice his reputation? And for what? Would she ever be able to

not hate him for the way hed treated her?

Tommy watched Sara covertly, as he picked at his quickly congealing pasta. He wondered

who that girl was sitting with Sara. He envied her. What wouldnt he give to be able to just walk

over there and sit down with Sara, and just talk.

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Chapter 6

Billy slowly turned the small square over. It was covered with pink hearts. He opened it

and looked at the round, girlish script. This one was from Jesse Crandell. Billy pretended to read

it, but there was no need. They were all the same. He got a half dozen of these every week; in

class, in the cafeteria, in the hallway. They all said the same thing. Billy I love you. Billy youre

so cute. Billy will you go out with me?

He never answered any of them. That didnt stop the notes from coming, or even slow

them down. Billy carefully refolded the lined paper and shoved it in his backpack. Out of the

corner of his eye, he could see Jesse smiling at him. Her and every other girl in his class, and

half the boys for that matter. Everyone wanted to be Billys friend.

In Mr. Flinks algebra class, there was no assigned seating. The desks around Billy were all

filled with the cool kids. They surrounded him like self appointed body guards, buffering him

from the so-called geeks in the class.

Sally Brent sat in the back. Braces, granny glasses and hand me down clothes. Then there

was Jimmy Simms, otherwise known as Smelly Simms. It seemed that for Jimmy, puberty had

preceded his discovery of the personal hygiene aisle at the drug store.

Billy envied them. Sitting there alone, no one crowding them, no one talking to them,

nobody vying for their attention. What he wouldnt give to trade places with them for just one

day.

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One day to be completely invisible. Well, maybe not. He was already almost invisible, and

he hated it. He wasnt invisible like Sally or Jimmy. Some days, when he was feeling really sorry

for himself, he thought that his condition was worse than theirs.Sure, he was seen. Too much so. He was the wonderful Billy Dunn. The problem was,

that of all the people, his parents and brother included, no one really saw him. Nobody really

knew who Billy Dunn was. He wasnt sure he knew himself.

What he did know, was what he wasnt. He wasnt the superficial jock strap that everybody

seemed to want him to be. Billy had a brain and he had aspirations. He wanted to be

important, not because he was cute, or because hed thrown the winning touchdown, but because

hed done something of value. Billy wanted to really make a difference, and he would, if he

lived long enough.

The lunch bell rang. Billy headed for his locker with a half dozen kids in close pursuit.

Hey Billy, are you going to the dance? Do you want to go together?

It was Dave. He was a good kid, and if Billy were asked, hed probably say that Dave was

his best friend. Dave lived next door. They both liked sports, and they spent a lot of time

together. But, when you got right down to it, they were just very familiar acquaintances. As much

time as they had spent together, Billy didnt think that Dave knew him at all.

Billy had tried to have a serious conversation with Dave more than once, without success.

If it wasnt about sports statistics, or who was dating who, Dave just wasnt interested. Billy

hated being so judgmental, but Dave was about as shallow as a mud puddle; he was

oversexed for his age, and his attention span didnt exceed the length of a long tv commercial.

Billy would never say these things to Dave. After all, Dave couldnt help it. He was

really no different from any of the other kids. Which made Billy wonder; what was it that made

him so different?

Billy felt like the proverbial square peg in a world full of round ones, and he was getting

sick and tired of trying to force himself into a round hole.

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Ya, sure Dave. We can go to the dance together, but I thought you were going to take

Brittany?

That was the plan, but she flaked out on me at the last minute. Something about hergrandmother getting sick.

Thats terrible. Is it serious?

Heck, I dont know. As soon as I heard her say she wasnt comin I started to think of

who else I could ask, but all the nice girls are taken.

By nice, Dave meant the girls whose bodies had already started to develop. Daves one

goal in life, if you could call it that, was to touch a girls breast. Lofty ambitions.

I guess Mrs. McKinney is driving. Do you want to meet at my house at six? Billy

asked.

Sure thing. See you then. Dave slammed his locker shut and made his way down the

hall. Dave was in the sixth grade. Their lunch time wasnt for another half hour.

Billy headed for the cafeteria. It wasnt an easy gauntlet to run. Several kids stopped him

along the way.

Hey Billy, great game last week,

Thanks.

Hey Billy, you want to get together after practice?

Sorry. I cant. Too much homework.

Billy...Suzie said you could call her if you want to go with her to the dance.

Okay. Thanks. Ill think about it.

He finally made it to the cafeteria.

Hey Billy! Cmon up here. You can have cuts.

Thanks Brian, but Im good.

Brian left his place at the front of the line and came to stand beside Billy. Whats new

guy?

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Nothing. How about you?

Nah. Same old crap.

Billy just stood there quietly. Why couldnt they just leave him alone for five minutes. Hisface hurt from smiling and his neck was getting sore from nodding in agreement with

everyone. Hey Brian. I have to run to the bathroom.

No problem. Ill hold your place.

Better not. I may be awhile. Billy couldnt stand the crestfallen look on the kids face.

You could do me a favor though and grab me a milk and a piece of cake.

Sure! Sure thing Billy, Brian said eagerly.

Billy rushed through the wave of kids coming into the lunch room. His pace quickened

until he was almost running. He slammed open the boys room door and lurched past the row of

stalls, checking them as he went. All empty. Thank God!

He entered the stall at the end, closing the door securely behind him. Billy sat on the

john and took a few deep breaths. He had to do something to relieve the pressure.

Billy fumbled in his pocket for the blade. He pulled it out and then lowered his pants

before sitting back down. Staring at the door in front of him, he pressed the blade against his

thigh. Billy released a sigh, like a tire with a fast leak, as the blade cut across his skin.

As he sat there, he read the different messages scratched into the bathroom door. His skin

was no different. Billy was also leaving messages. Unfortunately, no one would ever see them.

Billy waited another five minutes, just sitting there, watching his blood congeal around the

new cut. He didnt have his backpack with him, so he couldnt clean the cut. Oh well, he would

just have to live dangerously. He laughed to himself. He had never before realized how ironic it

was that he took such care to clean and disinfect his cuts. Oh well, hed never claimed that this

was rational behavior.

Billy meticulously washed his hands before leaving the boys room He walked slowly back

to the cafeteria. As soon as he walked in the door, he could see Brian, waving frantically for his

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attention. Billy rolled his eyes in exasperation. It was going to be a long day.

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