The Opposite Of Invisible Part 15

We fall into step together.

"I didn't think you were there," he says.

Yep, spying through the window. Trying to be invisible. "I helped take down the show."

Okay, we're talking. Just two old friends walking and talking. Except for the elephant walking between us.

He drinks from his cup and I tug on my non-ponytailed hair.

"How are your parents?" he asks.

I think about telling him that my mom mentioned our families doing Thanksgiving together. She frowned when I didn't say anything.

"They're good."

We pa.s.s the junk shop and its window is done up in pilgrims. Corn husks everywhere.

"Aliens," Jewel says.

I look at him. "Like in the Shyamalan movie?"

"Yeah."

We watched that movie on DVD during the summer. We argued about the ending, where it turns out that G.o.d has been planning everything just right so that the family can beat the aliens. Jewel thought it was too easy, a stupid explanation. I just liked seeing that everyone was okay in the end. Is that how this will turn out, with everything okay in the end?

Jewel looks at me from the corners of his eyes.

Then he smirks. A tiny smirk, but I know what it means.

I'm finished with the art portfolio cover. It's the best I can do with my Pica.s.so Dove Girl. She's still not quite as angelic as the original, of course. And I'm not at all sure what Mr. Smith had in mind when he asked me to do the thing, so I'm nervous as I walk into art workshop.

I'm relieved to see Vanessa's back turned; she's hunched over some new project involving charcoals and a pile of paper clips. Maybe a gray tribute to the way I've destroyed Jewel.

I drop my backpack on a stool at the table farthest from her, pull out the folder with my drawing.

Mr. Smith is over by the sinks, washing a lot of blue acrylic from his fingers.

I walk over and show him.

"Lovely," he says.

I smile at him.

"Pica.s.so," he says.

"Yeah, my favorite."

"Not Alice."

Well, I did it myself. I colored the eyes green, when Pica.s.so's are empty circles. It's a study. Right?

"I guess not," I say.

"I'd rather see your own mind on the page."

The Dove Girl is my mind. I mean she's on my mind. She's like I want to be. Peaceful. Beautiful. She's alone but she doesn't seem to want anything.

"Give me more of Alice," he says before he walks to his desk.

I would if I could! I want to shout. If I knew who that was. I want to shout. If I knew who that was. If you're a fish, you can breathe underwater. If you're Alice, what can you do? If you're a fish, you can breathe underwater. If you're Alice, what can you do?

Simon's at my locker after eighth period.

He grabs hold of my hand as soon as I'm within reach.

He kisses me, there in the hall. The last thing I see before closing my eyes to surrender is Senora Rodriguez walking down the hall with her turquoise rings up near her mouth in apparent surprise at me falling into Simon's arms.

We pull away. I look down at my hand in his and say, "I sort of need that to get my locker open."

He drops my hand. "I'll take you home."

But there's something stopping me. I need to admit it to myself. Something's wrong. He's Simon, and he's fun, and he's a good boyfriend, but he's not ... he's not my match. The thought makes me a little panicky. Stop thinking! Stop thinking! But I can't help going on. But I can't help going on.

Maybe I could've had true happiness and all that with Jewel. Maybe I should've admitted that to myself earlier. Instead of worrying about who I'd dance with in my perfect make-believe dress.

That's not what happened. I'm standing at my locker with Simon and he wants to walk me home.

So I go. I let him feel me up under the tree.

He kisses me, gulping.

I find a note from my mom on the fridge when I get inside, saying, "We'll be at the library late-you're on your own for dinner."

I settle in under the chenille blanket to watch the Horror Channel. It's j.a.pan Week. The movies are totally creepy and the subt.i.tles max the creepiness. Like it's a cartoon or something; like you have to read the words because all that's coming out of the characters' actual mouths is blips. The blips are j.a.panese, of course, but to me they might as well be exclamation points and stars.

In the movie, a girl is being haunted by a ghost in her new house. The ghost is a milky-white blur. The girl hides under her bedcovers and I drift to sleep myself.

When I wake up, the girl is strapped to a hospital bed and the ghost is lurking just outside the door, watching her, somehow having traveled with her from the house.

She's the only one who sees it.

My phone rings.

Simon.

"Let's meet up for pho pho. Have you ever tried it?"

"Nope." I try to shake off my nap.

"It's super-good. Noodles and broth and whatever meat you want. Perfect for a rainy night. And they give you a free cream puff."

Macho Simon is interested in cream puffs?

The place is in Ballard. "I'll pick you up." He clicks off.

Didn't I just see him, like, two hours ago?

I leave a note for Mom and Dad, sniff my underarms to make sure they're okay.

I think about changing into my denim mini, but my old jeans feel so comfy.

In the bathroom mirror, I see me looking as good as I ever have. I see Simon Murphy's girlfriend. But she's mad at him. I open the vanity drawer, dig around for an elastic, and put my hair back into its old ponytail.

"Can we stop at Rain City?" I say as I sit down in the car.

"Sure."

Simon parks at Rain City and gets out first, comes around to my side to open the door for me.

Chivalry.

I flash back to the way Jewel and I would joke in the junk shop about being an old married couple. He dug through s...o...b..xes full of old greeting cards and secretly slipped valentines from the 1950s into my purse for me to find later. He called me honeybunch.

Somehow, that felt more real than this moment with Simon opening my door and ushering me into Rain City. It's not the first time I've felt that Simon and I are in a movie.

"Darling!" Tommy calls from over by the comedies.

He rushes to us and kisses both of my cheeks, Euro-style.

"Who's your friend?" he asks, I'm sure knowing full well who this is from whatever Jewel told him.

"This is Simon."

"Nice to meet you." Simon sounds as if he's meeting my father.

"Likewise, I'm sure."

"So," I say. "I was wondering if you have what's on the Horror Channel right now. I think it's called Spirit." Spirit."

Tommy goes to check his computer. Simon looks at the new releases and asks if I've seen something with overgrown frat boys on the cover.

Before I answer, Tommy says, "I'll have to order that movie." He blows me a kiss and returns to shelving videos.

Simon gives me a look, all raised eyebrows.

"What?" I ask.

"Nothing." His eyes are aimed toward Tommy's back.

He takes my arm, the same fancy way that Jewel did on that night at the s...o...b..x. Then it made me feel safe. Now I feel ... like an actress.

At the pho pho restaurant, Simon is talking about his friends. Football. Who wants to hook up with which cheerleader. Apparently, Mike Corrigan has his eye on Molly from Spanish cla.s.s. He wants to throw another party to try to get in her pants. Something like that. restaurant, Simon is talking about his friends. Football. Who wants to hook up with which cheerleader. Apparently, Mike Corrigan has his eye on Molly from Spanish cla.s.s. He wants to throw another party to try to get in her pants. Something like that.

"Oh my G.o.d." Simon puts down his c.o.ke. "Did you hear about this? Corrigan wants to get a Udub tattoo. Purple and gold."

"Yeah?" I ask, sipping my soup.

"The only thing he's not sure of is if he should wait and see if he ends up in a frat, 'cause then he says he'd get the frat's letters instead," Simon says. "Anyway, he's gonna be eighteen pretty soon, so he's up for it."

"What would you get, if you were getting a tattoo?"

"Huh. Maybe a giant octopus, I guess."

I know just what tattoo I'd get.

"I'd get my Dove Girl."

He puts down his spoon. "Your what?"

I never told him about my poster. How could I be thinking I was getting close to someone and not tell him about my Dove Girl?

"It's too strange," I say. "Forget I mentioned it."

"No, come on. I tell you strange stuff sometimes."

"Maybe another time," I say.

He exhales audibly. "What's wrong with right now?"

"Why are you pressing this?"

"Because. I want to know you." His eyes are laser beams.

"You do know me."

"I know about you." about you."

"Sorry if that's not enough," I say. What is wrong wrong with me? Am I ruining everything? I get up to pay at the register, feeling lousy. with me? Am I ruining everything? I get up to pay at the register, feeling lousy.

On the sidewalk, I touch his arm. "I'm in a bad mood. I should apologize."

"You should apologize or you are apologizing?" he says. "Don't think so much."

"I'm sorry."

We walk to the car without meeting eyes. When we get to my house, I open the door and get out as soon as the car stops.