by Marilyn Kaye
In Tracey's English class they were reading Romeo and Juliet, and Amanda had something she wanted to say, about how Romeo should have felt for Juliet's pulse and then he'd know she wasn't really dead and he wouldn't kill himself and she wouldn't kill herself and they could live happily ever after. But no matter how many times she raised her hand, the teacher didn't call on her, not even when she flapped her arm wildly in the air.
It was at lunchtime that she realized what was
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going on. She was looking for a place to sit, an empty table. As she looked around the crowded, noisy cafeteria, she realized that she had accidentally paused right next to her own special table where Britney and Sophie and her other self were gathered. She was close enough to touch, but nobody insulted her, not even Amanda herself. That was when she knew she had become invisible.
She hurried out of the cafeteria to go to the restroom and confirm this in a mirror. How strange it felt, to be looking at yourself and seeing nothing. And how long would it last?
She left the restroom and ambled down the corridor. It was kind of cool, to stroll right in front of a hall monitor and not be asked to show a pass. She could walk right out of the building and no one would stop her. But where could she go? In a way, it was too bad that she wasn't a gangster like Jenna. She could do a lot of shoplifting in this condition.
She decided to stop at the library and pick out some books. But on the way there, she passed the principal's office. The door was slightly ajar, and she heard Madame talking to Mr. Jackson. She sounded
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upset, and Amanda paused to listen.
"I don't like this arrangement at all, Mr. Jackson. We have discussions of a highly personal nature in that class. My students will not be comfortable talking in front of a total stranger."
"Serena won't be a stranger for long," the principal countered. "And they'll learn to be comfortable with her. To be perfectly honest, Madame, I'm not comfortable with the way you conduct that class. I realize your students are, uh, unusual, but that doesn't mean they shouldn't have the usual classroom experiences."
Madame's voice rose a notch. "But surely you can understand that their special circumstances require an element of privacy!"
"What exactly makes them so special, Madame?"
There was a moment of silence. Amanda wished she could see Madame's expression.
"You know I'm not at liberty to discuss the details of these children," she said finally.
Mr. Jackson made a grunting noise. "All I know is that two years ago you showed up here with a letter from the superintendent of schools, a mandate
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authorizing you to start a special class, with very little information as to what kind of special students would be invited to join the class. Obviously your students are not particularly brilliant, nor are they mentally challenged. All I can see is the fact that they have problems."
"Gifts."
"Yes, I know that's what you call them. Others might call them delusions. All I know is that someone believes these kids have--" he paused, as if he was searching for the right words "--unusual capabilities. Strange powers or something. Mind reading, fortunetelling. Am I correct?"
Amanda couldn't hear Madame's response. Maybe she didn't respond at all, because the next sound Amanda heard was the principal's long sigh.
"And I know that you are not required to share all the information with me. But whatever bizarre gifts these kids have, I think you're becoming overprotective of them, Madame. Perhaps a little ... possessive?"
Madame replied to this. "I have to be possessive. They need to be protected."
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"But protected from whom? From other students? From teachers? From me? Surely you're not suggesting that they're in danger here at Meadowbrook?"
"Danger can come in many forms, Mr. Jackson. My job is to prepare these students to defend themselves." Her voice rose again. "No, it's more than a job--it's a mission. I'm trying to teach these children how to cope. And you have no authority over me!"
"If you're going to yell, Madame, please shut the door." Madame obeyed quickly, and Amanda didn't have enough time to slip inside before the door closed. Too bad, because this was getting interesting. Madame certainly took her job seriously. And Amanda still wasn't completely sure what that job was.
She forgot about the library and roamed the halls looking for something else of interest to listen to or observe unnoticed. When she saw Katie and Britney with hall passes, she followed them to the restroom. At least she could catch up on the latest gossip.
She watched longingly as her two friends went through the ritual that they always performed after lunch. They emptied their makeup bags into sinks
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and then scrutinized their faces in the mirrors to see what elements were in need of repair. And, of course, they gossiped.
But it was a shock to hear what they were talking about today. "Amanda is really getting on my nerves lately," Britney said.
Amanda was stunned. Britney turned and looked around the restroom. "Is anyone in here?"
Katie moved over to the stalls and looked under the doors. "No one's here."
"I just had a feeling someone was listening to us." Britney resumed the conversation. "Amanda just thinks she's all that, you know? Okay, so she got some new red ballerina flats. Did she really have to keep telling us how much they cost?"
"She does that all the time," Katie said. "It's like she wants to make sure we know she's got more money than we do. That is so uncool."
Amanda was aghast, and completely bewildered. What was the point of getting new things if everyone didn't know they were expensive? She'd always thought her friends were impressed by the cost of her clothes.
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"And the way she was making fun of Shannon's shirt, the one with the flowers on it, just because her mother embroidered the flowers herself," Britney continued. "Just between you and me, I thought it was kind of cute."
"So did I," Katie said.
So this was how her good friends talked about her when she wasn't around! Just then, her other self came into the restroom.
"Guys, I forgot to show you," she said. "Look what I got at Sephora yesterday."
Amanda felt like she was watching a home movie as this Amanda opened her bag and pulled out a little case. "It's a makeup travel kit, with everything you need all in one place. Look, it's even got little brushes and everything. It was super expensive, but I just had to have it."
"Oh, I love it!" Britney exclaimed.
"It's so cute!" Katie gushed.
Two-faced creeps, Amanda thought. Another girl came into the restroom, and she took advantage of the open door to escape. With nothing else to do, she headed to the gifted class.
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She was the first student to arrive, but Madame was there with the student teacher.
"I'd like to start the hypnosis sessions today," Serena was saying.
"I'm sorry," Madame said, though she didn't sound sorry at all. "I've got a complicated lesson plan. There won't be time today."
Serena smiled. "Mr. Jackson said I could take the students individually out of the classroom and work with each one in the empty room next door. So it won't disrupt the entire class."
"But the student you take out will miss what the rest of the class does," Madame objected.
"But think of the potential benefits, Madame. Your objective is to teach your students to deal with their ... their peculiarities. There's been a lot of research that indicates that hypnosis can have a real impact on a person's ability to control bad habits."
Amanda took advantage of her invisibility to scoot around the desk and take a good long look at Serena. Personally, she couldn't see why Madame was so nervous around her. Okay, Serena was pushy, but why did Madame look so suspicious? Was she afraid
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that the students would like Serena as a teacher more than they liked her? But Madame didn't seem like the kind of person w
ho cared about popularity.
The other students were arriving, and Madame spoke more softly to Serena. "Their habits, as you call them, are not necessarily bad."
"Well, you know what I mean," the student teacher said. "And I do have Mr. Jackson's permission to carry out these sessions."
Madame's lips tightened. Then she nodded. "All right, Ms. Hancock."
"Call me Serena."
Madame turned and surveyed the room. "Charles, please go with Ms. Hancock to the room next door."
"I don't want to go with her," Charles muttered.
"Now, Charles, there's nothing to be afraid of," Serena said brightly. "This will be fun!" She grabbed the handles of Charles's wheelchair and pushed him out of the room.
"Is she going to hypnotize Charles?" Emily asked when they were out of the room.
"She's going to try," Madame said. "Not all people can be hypnotized. Unique people may have ...
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unique reactions.
Amanda thought she could see a little smile on the teacher's face, but it disappeared too fast for her to be sure.
"Now, let's see," Madame continued, surveying the room again. "We have some absentees today. Martin has the flu--his mother called the office. And Tracey--"
Jenna interrupted. "Tracey's here, Madame. I can tell."
"Thank you, Jenna, but I must remind you that it isn't appropriate to read Tracey's mind without her permission. Or anyone else's, for that matter. Now--"
But once again she was interrupted, this time by a crash that practically made the whole room vibrate. "Oh dear," Madame said. "I think hypnosis has brought out some anger in Charles."
Sure enough, seconds later the door swung open and a furious Serena stormed in, followed by Charles, who was wheeling himself this time.
"That--that brat made my chair fall over!" the student teacher fumed.
"Oh my, that wasn't very nice, Charles," Madame
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scolded, but her tone was mild, and Amanda could have sworn she saw a glint of satisfaction in the teacher's eyes. "Ms. Hancock--I mean, Serena--why don't you take Ken today instead?"
Serena glared at her. "No, I think I'll have her." She pointed to Emily.
"As you wish," Madame said coolly.
Serena's expression changed dramatically, and she smiled sweetly at Emily. "Is that all right with you, Emily?"
Amanda watched them leave and wondered if Serena's hypnosis might help her. Maybe if she was unconscious, Serena could reach the real Tracey inside her and get her to come back out ...
There was a voice at her ear. "Or maybe hypnosis would turn you into Tracey for good. Wouldn't you just love that?"
Shut up, Jenna, she thought fiercely. And don't make fun of me. Help me! After a second, she concentrated as hard as possible on one additional word. Please?
It seemed to take forever before the girl sitting behind her whispered in her ear again.
"Okay."
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Chapter Ten
I'M NOT DOING THIS for yow," Jenna said. "I want to help Tracey. I'm sure she's not thrilled about having you inside her body." She read Amanda's mind. Yeah, right, whatever. Just do it.
"And don't give me orders! I don't care if you're Miss AU-That Amanda Beeson--you can't boss me around."
Jenna was almost surprised to hear the tiniest touch of meekness in Amanda's mental response. Okay, sorry. Where are we going?
"My place."
I hope none of her scummy friends are there.
"Don't worry, nobody's home," Jenna snapped. This was the day the new lottery tickets went on sale, and the jackpot was huge. Her mother was always willing to stand in line for hours if necessary.
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She thought putting in the effort would bring her more luck.
Could you please turn off your little gift? I'm entitled to the privacy of my own thoughts.
"Like I'd be interested in anything going on inside your feeble little mind."
Then stop reading it!
Jenna tried. But there was no missing Amanda's reaction when they turned the corner.
Ohmigod, she lives in Brookside Towers! Yuck!
Jenna gritted her teeth. It was too bad Amanda couldn't read her mind--she would hear herself being called every nasty, dirty name ever invented. But Jenna kept telling herself--just as she'd told Amanda--that she was doing this for Tracey, and she kept her mouth shut.
But why was she so intent on helping Tracey? It wasn't as if they were great friends; they knew each other only through the gifted class. And she didn't know anything about Tracey, since the girl didn't say much at all, even when she was visible.
Unsure as to whether Amanda was alongside her or behind her, Jenna held the door to her apartment
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open. She knew Amanda was inside when she sensed her discomfort at finding herself in such shabby conditions.
"It's not the kind of castle you're used to," she declared, "but it's clean."
What's her problem? I wasn't even thinking anything.
Well, maybe it was just what she expected Amanda to feel. "Sit down," Jenna ordered, pointing to the sofa. She pulled up a chair. "Are you facing me?"
Is she going to try to hypnotize me?
"No, I'm not into that." She caught a glimpse of something else in Amanda's head and couldn't help nodding. "Yeah, I think Serena's kind of weird, too." Then she frowned. Was she actually finding something in common with this snob?
"How did you get inside Tracey in the first place?" she asked. She caught a glimpse of a response in Amanda's mind, but it was obvious to her that Amanda was trying to put one over on her.
"You cared about her? Ha! Amanda Beeson cares only about Amanda Beeson." Jenna concentrated on getting deeper into Amanda's thoughts, but there wasn't much to learn. Amanda was now mentally
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counting backward from one thousand. Obviously, she was trying to keep Jenna from learning more about her.
"Okay, okay, I get it," Jenna said. "And I don't want to know you either. Like I said, this is for Tracey." She took a deep breath.
"Tracey, I know you're in there. It's not your fault that this--that Amanda took over your body. But you've got to be strong now. Come out, get rid of her, take over."
Does she have to make it sound so violent?
"Stop thinking!" Jenna barked. "I can't reach Tracey if you keep interrupting. Tracey, I'll bet you can hear me. I don't know why you become invisible like you do. Maybe you're just shy or something. But now it's like you've completely disappeared, and that's worse. Now, if you come out, Amanda can go back into her little princess world and you can come back into yours and everything will be normal, okay? Tracey? Tracey!"
Jenna concentrated as hard as she could, but all she could sense was Amanda trying very hard to think of nothing.
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"I give up. I can't hear her at all." You can't give up--I have to get out of here! Bring her back!
"I just said I can't! Look, did it ever occur to you that maybe she doesn't want to come back?"
You mean I could be stuck inside Tracey forever?
Jenna was spared from answering when the door to the apartment opened. "Hi, honey pie!" her mother squealed.
"Hi, Mom." Jenna glanced nervously in the direction where Amanda was sitting.
"Guess what? I bought fifty lottery tickets!"
It was clear to Jenna that her mom must have had a few drinks before making the decision to buy more than her usual one.
"Why, Mom?"
"Honey, I just had this feeling. This is it! This is our week!"
"Sure, Mom." She glanced back at the sofa and knew Amanda was still there. Get out of here, she thought fiercely, but of course Amanda wasn't a mind reader. All Jenna got in return was Amanda's reaction to her mother.
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"I'm starving, Jenna, honey. Is there anything to eat?"
"No, Mom. I was waiting for you to come home with some money so I could g
o to the store. I'll go now."
Her mother's face crumpled. "But I don't have any more money, Jenna. I spent it all on lottery tickets."
Jenna sighed. "It's okay--I think I've got five bucks stashed away. I'll get us something." Then she stiffened as she became aware of something very different coming from Amanda. It wasn't disgust that Amanda was feeling, or even distaste. It was pity. Amanda was feeling sorry for her.
Jenna clenched her fists in rage. Even in her foggy state, her mother could see that something was wrong.
"Honey, you okay?"
What could Jenna say? That she desperately wanted her mother out of the room so she could tell Amanda what she could do with her pity?
Then yet another realization hit her. How could she be reading pity in Amanda's mind? Girls like Amanda Beeson never thought about anyone but
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themselves. It was impossible that Amanda could be feeling sorry for her. So maybe, maybe, she was actually making contact with Tracey!
And then she realized that Amanda was leaving. "Wait!" she cried out.
Her mother looked at her strangely. "What did you say, honey?"
Jenna sighed and tried to hold onto Amanda-Tracey's thoughts as she went out the door. The pity was still there, but another feeling had joined it-- something that didn't make sense at all to Jenna. It seemed to her like ... fear.
Now what was that all about?
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CHAPTER ELEVEN
AMANDA DIDN'T PAUSE FOR a breath until Brookside Towers was way out of sight and she felt reasonably safe. She couldn't believe how close she'd come to even more serious trouble back there. The last thing she needed was to feel sorry for Jenna. Becoming Jenna Kelley was no more appealing to her than being Tracey Devon. Jenna certainly didn't have a better life than Tracey. At least Tracey lived in a nice house where there was food in the kitchen. And at least Tracey had a pair of normal parents.
Well, sort of normal. They were normal to the septuplets. But for Tracey ... Amanda couldn't quite figure it out. Okay, Tracey was a nerd and she didn't have any friends, but weren't parents supposed to love their kids unconditionally, even if they were pathetic? The more she thought about it, the more