The next day greets me in a similar way to yesterday: my alarm clock, shouting in my ear to "WAKE UP!" and autumn leaves outside my window, the birds chirping in the sunrise. I get up and brush my teeth, then head downstairs to eat breakfast and get ready for school.
Mom had saved me some spaghetti from last night, and I put the container of food into my backpack. Both my parents are at work, and like always, I have to take the bus. I have my intermediate license, but we only own two vehicles.
As I head out the door and walk down the driveway, I feel a very weird and almost scary sensation tingling up my back. It's almost as if there is a shooter or a bad guy with a knife waiting to ambush me. I shake it off and jump aboard the bus.
The three girls from yesterday are sitting on the back bench. As I walk over to them, I look at Nat questioningly, glancing at the empty spot next to her. She nods, and I sit down.
"Hey," Nat says, smiling.
"Hey," I begin, but before we can start a proper conversation, the blonde girl next to Nat shoves a phone in her face.
"Oh my gosh, look at him, look at him!" she exclaims. I take a peek at the phone to see what she is so obsessed with.
"Really Salina? Seriously?" Nat says, barely looking at the picture of the random shirtless dude on Instagram. I don't bother commenting on how much more symmetrical and defined my abs are, not to mention my big and muscular pectorals.
"What about you, Maggi?" Salina says to the girl at the end of the bench. "Would you make out with him?"
"No way," says Maggi. "I would never kiss him. He only has skinny boy abs anyway. And for the record, I have a boyfriend."
"Duh, I know that, but would you kiss him if given the chance?" continues Salina.
"No, Sal! I already said, I would never kiss a boy like that."
"Kay, whatever, Mags." Nat looks at me with an apologetic but irritated smile.
"My friends do that a lot," she says. Salina looks at her phone again.
"I mean, wouldn't you do it if you got played?"
"Drop it, Salina," Nat says slowly, emphasizing each word.
"Fine, what ev."
We arrive at school, and the students file out. I hop off, making sure not to make it look cool, unlike last time. I head for the door and glance over my left shoulder. Nat is following a few steps behind, and that makes me feel special. But as I turn my head forward, a mom in a truck parked by the curb catches my attention.
"I'll pick you up at three thirty," she shouts. I look, but can't see who she might be talking to. The kid is probably by the front doors about to enter. I continue walking toward the entrance, and whoever they are, they have most likely gone inside with the majority of entering students.
Natasha and I hurry to our first class, she more than I. I can tell that Nat doesn't want to be late again. We arrive, and she is glad to find only five other students sitting at their desks. We sit down and wait for Mr. Hutson.
I feel Nat looking at me, and I turn my head.
"Sup," I ask, noticing she wants to say something.
"Last night I did my own research on what we studied yesterday, and I think I am starting to grasp all of this stuff about electronics."
"That's really good," I say, "because you'll probably need all that knowledge for today."
"What do you mean?" she asks.
"Well, today, if you want to, you could take last year's 2019 COT course quiz. That way, you'll be mostly caught up, and we both don't need to do extra work." I pause so she can organize what I have just said. "I don't know, just an idea. I'll have to ask Mr. Hutson."
"Yeah," says Nat, after a moment, "that would work. If I can pass it, that is."
"Kay, be right back," I say and stand up to find Mr. Hutson before he finds the classroom.
I see him entering the front doors just as I head down the hall.
"You should be in class by now," he says, wondering why I'm not.
"Yeah, I know, I just wanted to ask if Natasha could take last year's course quiz…. She thinks she's ready." I look hopefully at Mr. Hutson.
"Yeah, that would be okay with me, but she may need to look over and study a review guide beforehand."
"Shouldn't be a problem."
"And by the way, she got a B plus yesterday."
"Nice."
We walk to class together most of the way, but then I hurry in before him.
"What did he say?" asks Nat as I sit down.
"Yeah, it will work, but you need to study a more condensed review." We look ahead as Mr. Hutson enters. He motions with his index finger for me to approach his desk. I nod my head in his direction, looking at Nat, and we get up. Our teacher hands me both the quiz and the review.
"Do not cheat, both of you," he says sternly.
We make our way to the library, and when we arrive, we sit at the same table as yesterday. I help Nat study for forty minutes, which gives her twenty minutes to take the test. I'm not allowed to help her with the quiz, though I really want to.
The bell rings, and we go back to class. Nat hands in her quiz and the review sheet.
"No, actually keep that one," Mr. Hutson returns the review to her.
"You might still need this later."
Science and math are normal. Not too hard but definitely not too easy. When it is lunchtime, Nat follows me into the food court. We get our food and sit down.
"That spaghetti?" asks Nat as she bites into a sub.
"Yeah, you want some?" I ask.
"Just a bite if that's ok?"
"Yeah." I slide the Tupperware container across the table, and she sticks a plastic fork in it.
"Wow, this is really good. Did your mom make it?"
"No, actually, my dad did. He's a really great cook."
"I can tell," she says, sliding it back to me.
"Can I sit here?" a new voice joins the conversation. I look around, but can't see anyone. How odd.
"Manny!" another male student shouts just ten feet away.
"Sorry, he's new here." The student makes his way to our table.
"Who's new here?" I ask, perplexed.
"Manny is. I look after him."
Still confused, I ask, "Who is Manny, and where is he?" avoiding the questions, he answers with another question.
"Is it okay if we sit here?"
"I mean, yeah, but where is he?" I continue to ask but get nowhere.
"Great, thanks," says the disembodied voice.
Then, to my astonishment, one of the unoccupied chairs slides back from the table as if by an invisible force.
"Holy, shot Macky," Nat says, clearly freaked out. "What the—" Then, the chair rocks a tad, and it scoots closer to the table. And out of nowhere, a bagged lunch appears on the table. I almost fall out of my chair, nearly paralyzed.
I hear Nat say in a very shaky voice, "Can you please tell me what the vuck is going on?"
"Yeah, my bad. I probably should have from the beginning." The visible person says. "I'm Jake, by the way," and he sits down. "You wanna tell them?" Jake asks the empty chair next to him.
"Sure," says the chair.
Nat takes in a deep breath, clearly trying very hard not to freak out.
"Ok…" it continues. "See, my name is Manny, though you might have known that already, and…. I am well…. Very special." He keeps pausing, sounding pretty nervous, and I get the feeling he doesn't have many friends. If any. "…and I am invisible," he finally finishes.
Nat and I just stare at the seemingly empty chair.
"You know I can still see everyone, right?" Manny asks, "It's not like those really dumb cartoons where, if you don't see him, he can't see you."
"I know it's just—" Nat doesn't finish her thought.
"So why didn't we see your lunch until you set it on the table?" I ask.
"Anything that is touching me, you won't be able to see," he says.
"But I see your chair," states Nat.
"Yes," replies Manny. "That's because I'm not touching the chair; my clothes are." A pause. "You didn't think I was naked, did you?" He seems surprised.
"No, it's just that—I don't know."
"And by the way, Macky," Manny says. "It was me who ran into you yesterday. I bet you wondered. I was really late for class, sorry."
"Oh, yeah, that had me a little confused, I'll admit. It's all good, though."
"So how did you get invisible anyway?" asks Nat. But before Manny can answer, another student walks up to our table.
"I heard there is a superhero at our school," he says. "Have any of you guys seen him?" laughing childishly at his own lame joke, he says, "Wait, but he's invisible, right? So there's no way you could have!" he continues in his hysteria, clutching his stomach from the pain of laughter. Manny keeps his cool.
"I was just about to tell these nice people about how I became a superhero," he says in a jesting manner.
I catch the wisecracker looking at the invisible kid in his chair.
"Oh. Sure, I'll listen," he says, realizing that no one was laughing. "I'm Sam, by the way." He sits down, and Manny starts his story.
"When I was just an egg, not even fertilized, my parents got offered $500,000. The requirement being for my mom to donate twelve of her eggs, and for my dad to donate a full batch of sperm. So they agreed. My mom got surgery, and the eggs were harvested and preserved in a very secretive lab. My dad donated some of his sperm, though, of course, I don't know how he did it, all beyond me. Anyway…"
I listen to the sound of Manny's voice as he tells his story. It feels weird not looking at the speaker when they talk. To me, it's as if I am listening to an audiobook instead of a real person. And I know, of course, I CAN still look at him, and Manny would know. But even so, I don't know where his eyes are. What if he is slouched or leaning forward on the table? That doesn't matter.
"…what the scientists in the lab basically did was grow me without a womb or even real, partly digested food from my mother. All they had was specially grown lab food. And if you're wondering about how I know a lot of the details, it's because I read the full report and all the procedures done on me.
They kept growing me week by week in that lab, all the while pumping my body full of different chemicals and lab experiments. My parents didn't even know what they were injecting into me. All the report said about that was stuff like Experiment 500 or Bio Lab Test 3, and stuff like that. After nine long months of essentially killing me, I was born in a hospital. The lab had made sure I was in a hospital at least four days before my birthday."
Nat interrupts Manny, "Whoa, wait, so were you invisible as a baby? How did you survive?"
"Yeah, so I only started becoming harder to see around one years old. I guess the bigger I got, the more invisible I became. It's like a balloon. When a balloon hasn't been stretched or blown up, the material is compressed. If you draw a dot on it with a Sharpie, then blow up the balloon, the dot will get lighter and lighter. Once the balloon is big enough, the dot becomes so stretched out that you can't see it anymore.
So theoretically, if you look at me from the exact angle with the light reflecting just so, you might be able to see me, or a sliver of me."
Sam gets up and starts circling Manny's chair.
Manny bursts out laughing. "You moron!" he says between gasps of air. "Did you really think that would work?" Sam just stares blankly. "It's been fourteen years since I started turning invisible. I stopped being visible for over two years now!" We all burst out laughing, all but Sam.
Something about Nat's amazing laugh reminds me of my sister, and a strange memory starts to flash, then quickly vanishes. And I forget, confused. Sister? I never had one. Why'd I think that? It's gone now.
Sam sits back down, clearly annoyed and a bit mortified. We calm down and finish our lunch, mostly talking about the coronavirus.
Nat notices my strange face. "You alright?" she asks.
"Yeah, yeah," I say, shaking it off. "I'm fine."
When the bell rings signaling fifth period, we all put our trays in the tray-return and head off to language arts together. When we enter, the teacher tries her best to introduce Manny, so that he doesn't feel out of place—though he kind of is. Class continues as normal when most of the students calm down after seeing—or not seeing—Manny.
I feel bad for the teachers because they have to explain to the class why there is a book at an empty desk, or how magic words are appearing on the whiteboard.
The bell rings for the last time. Hopefully for the last time ever. Jake walks with Manny to his vehicle, and Sam climbs on the bus. I look beside me at Nat. We are sitting on the outside steps of the school. She looks suddenly disappointed.
"What's wrong? Are you okay?" I ask shyly, putting a hand on her back. She doesn't move away, and I'm glad she doesn't. It seems oddly comfortable and right that we can be so close together, though we only met yesterday.
"It's nothing really," she says, looking at the road. "Dance class is out of business for the year. Maybe forever."
"How come?" I ask, peering into her beautiful brown eyes. She catches me staring, and I flick my gaze somewhere else. She continues.
"The parents of the students attending are kind of paranoid or something. They pulled their kids out. The academy gave me a call this morning and said so." She looks at me, searching my face as if to discover if I really care, or if I'm just pretending.
"That must suck," I say, trying to understand her disappointment.
"You doing anything tonight?" she asks. Mom's car horn honks.
"Not a thing. You can probably come over after dinner. Say, around six thirty?" I stand up to leave.
"Cool," she gets up after me. "See ya."
"Yeah," I say. "See ya."
"Who was that?" Mom asks as I take shotgun.
"Just a friend," I say. "She might be coming over after dinner."
"Oh," Mom says. As we drive away, I watch Nat get into her dad's truck. So graceful. "And what's her name?" She asks.
"Nat," I say.
"That's a nice name, is it short for Natally? She looks very nice, are you dating?"
"Whoa! Mom, slow down, we're not dating, we're just friends." "Yeah, yeah, whatever, I know. I just hope she is polite."
"Mom, don't worry. She's very polite. She might actually be too polite." I chuckle.
"Well, you can't ever be too polite. Not really."
"Depends," I say, and pull out my phone. I tap on the daily local news app. The top article reads, "City of Winnipeg, shutting down slowly but surely."
The first paragraph talks about the empty shelves in many stores and all the schools closing. As of tomorrow, it looks like I won't be returning to school for a while.
"Mom," I say. "There's no more school."
"What do you mean, honey?" she asks, and I read her the article.