by Robin Benway
“Oh, shut it,” she glared at me.
“I didn’t say anything!” I shot back. “And stop read—!”
“Mom, seriously, we need a TV,” May said while giving both June and me a shove. “We’re not Luddites.”
“Ew, no, what’s that?” June wrinkled her nose. “I’m not that.”
My mom laughed over the phone, and I got a vision of her climbing into her car after work and rolling the windows down, looking neither happy nor unhappy. Just looking like herself.
“Relax,” she said now. “I’m a mother of three teenagers; you think I want you in my house without a TV? We’d all go crazy. April, honey, do you still have that credit card?”
“Yeah, it’s in my wallet,” I said. My mom had given it to me when I started driving, “for emergencies only,” she had emphasized. She probably hadn’t realized that the word “emergency” had taken on new meaning over the past several days.
“Okay, then you officially have my permission to go over to that shopping center on Topanga and buy us a new TV.”
June elbowed her way in front of me. “Can we get surround sound, too?”
“Don’t push it, sweetheart.”
An hour later, my sisters and I were standing in Best Buy, surrounded by a bunch of electrical equipment and people wearing blue polo shirts. “Why do stores always make their employees wear khakis?” June grimaced. “That’s just not right. It doesn’t make me want to shop here more.”
“Can I please wait in the car?” May sighed.
“No way, we’re suffering together. Besides we need to talk about what we’re going to do. We need a plan, a—”
“I don’t even watch TV!” May protested, ignoring me completely. “And besides, I’m going to Houston to see Dad next month. I can bond with our old TV then. I’ll tell it you both said, ‘Hello.’”
“Do you think you’ll come back wearing a cowboy hat and saying, ‘Howdy’?” I asked her. Teasing May will never not be fun.
She wrenched her hand away and shook her head. “You’re so strange.”
“Yeah,” June scoffed as she pushed past us. “No freaking kidding.”
We found ourselves in front of what seemed like hundreds of TVs, all of them showing the same episode of Oprah. “Whoa,” June said as two hundred Oprahs of different sizes and hues laughed at the same time. “Anyone else getting dizzy?”
May sighed and went over to a television that threatened to dwarf her. “What about this? Subtle enough?”
June’s eyes grew huge, but I shook my head. “We are getting the exact same thing that we had in our old house,” I declared. “Nothing crazy, nothing that’s bigger than the living room or—”
“Jesus, April,” May said. “I don’t give a rat’s butt about our TV. Relax.”
June glanced over at us. “She said this afternoon she’s radiating calmness like Yogi Bear, May. Give her a break.”
May looked up at me. “Can you please interpret our darling sister for me? I don’t speak June.”
“Calm like a yogi!” I cried. “Not Yogi Bear! I said this afternoon that I was radiating calmness like a yogi!”
May just snickered and turned back to the TV. “Yeah,” she snorted. “It’s obvious. You’re cool as ice.”
“Ice cold,” June added.
“I was before I started talking to you two,” I glared. “Look, can we just get the TV and go, please? We need to figure some things out before this gets really out of control. And I have homework to do, too. Unlike you guys, I can’t disappear to get out of a test or read minds to know the right answers.”
May hesitated before smiling to herself. “Thanks for the idea, April.”
“Oh my God, I might not have to ever study again,” June said dreamily.
I pressed my hands against my head and began counting to ten. I didn’t get past “three” before I saw that May was starting to wander a little too close to the stereo equipment, and I reined her back.
“April,” she said, “unclench.”
“Gross,” June frowned. “And April can’t help it. She’s really stressed about … that thing.”
May tilted her head to look at me. Two hundred Oprahs were looking at me, too, making me feel like the most judged person alive. “Stressed about what?” May demanded. “Or is this gonna be a special little secret between you two? Do I just get to be metaphorically invisible this time?”
I took a deep breath. “It’s nothing.”
“Oh, it’s so something.” May smiled. “What is it? Twenty Questions? I’ll go first. Is it a guy?”
“Yep!” June cried.
“June!”
“Good job, little sister,” May said. “Okay, second question—”
“Um, excuse me,” I interrupted her. “You can’t play Twenty Questions with someone who’s not playing.” I began looking at TVs that looked like our old set, the one that was about to become an official Texan, but I realized that I couldn’t quite remember what it looked like. For the briefest second, I wondered if it would ever be like that with Dad. Forgetting little things here and there about what it was like to live with him… . But I really couldn’t think about that now, not when June could be listening.
“Fine.” May sighed. “I was just trying to be all sisterly and understanding, but if you can’t accept my love, I get it, Yogi Bear.”
“Okay, fine, fine, fine!” I cried. “But you can’t tell anyone, okay?”
May looked over to June. “You already know the big secret, don’t you?”
June pretended to look confused. “I’m sorry, which one of your sisters is a mindreader? Tell me again?”
May kicked at her calf, and June scooted out of the way. “Child abuse,” she said. “I’m telling Mom.”
“Well, I guess you’re not interested in what I have to say,” I told them, going towards a set that looked vaguely familiar, but May pulled me back and kicked at June a few more times. “Spill,” May said to me. “Or the mindreader gets it.”
I sighed and looked at the ceiling. It looked so far away. “So today, I had this vision about me and Julian.”
“Who’s Julian?”
“Ssshh!” I hissed, looking around to make sure that no one was listening. “He’s just Julian. He’s the guy that has the locker above mine? You know … ?” How to describe someone I didn’t even know?
June didn’t seem to have that problem. “Tall greasemonkey,” she said in what she probably thought was a helpful manner. “Lurks around school. You know, that guy.”
May still looked confused. “Do I know him?”
“Do you know anybody at school?” I asked her.
“Well, no, but that’s because I made a conscious decision to avoid people.”
“Ugh, this is taking way too long,” June said. “April got a vision of her and Julian doing the nasty. There, you’re welcome.”
I covered my face with my hands. “Thank you, June,” I said into my palms. “Thank you for announcing that with the dignity and grace that it so deserved. In Best Buy.”
“Okey-dokey, artichokey,” she said.
May started to snicker, then giggle, then finally laugh uproariously. “That … is … mother—”
“Language,” I snapped at her.
“—effing … hilarious!” she wheezed. “Oh my God, that is amazing! April, you win the award for Worst Heightened Sense ever.”
I groaned and kept my face covered. “It’s obviously not possible to die of embarrassment because if it were, I’d be dead.”
May shoved my shoulder. “Oh, come on,” she said. “At least you’re not me. I mean, think about it. Some guy might one day kiss me and POOF!” She clapped her hands together. “Guess who disappears into thin air? Imagine what’ll happen when I have sex with someone!”
“I’m trying not to,” I said.
“I’m gonna be lying there, and the next thing you know, POOF!” She laughed again. “That’s gonna be an interesting story for all involved.”
“I’m jealous,” June said. “I wish my superpower had a sound effect like May’s.”
“Stop calling them that,” I told her. “They’re not super.”
“They’re anti-super,” May agreed.
“Well, you know what else is not super?” June said. “Being able to read a guy’s mind when he’s kissing you or doing … other things.”
“Like the nasty?” I asked her. “To use your delicate terminology?”
“Well, yeah. What if he thinks I’m a bad kisser? What if … what if he thinks I’m fat?” June shuddered. “I hate him already, and I don’t even know him.”
May rolled her eyes and turned back to me. “So is your future boyfriend hot?”
“I don’t know?” I replied. “Maybe? Kind of? In a certain light?”
“And by that, do you mean ‘utter darkness’?”
“He’s one of those guys that you don’t think is hot until you find out that another girl likes him,” June announced (with, I have to say, a startling amount of authority). “Then he’s hot.”
I looked at May. “He has dirt under his fingernails.”
She thought for a second. “That’s kinda hot. Was he a good kisser?”
“I don’t know; I haven’t even kissed him yet!”
“But in the vision?”
“It doesn’t work like that,” I said. “It’s like watching two people in a movie kiss. I can’t tell you if it’s good, only what it looks like.”
“Bummer.” May whirled around on her heel. “June, do your stellar mindreading skills tell you that he’ll be a good kisser?”
“Oh my God!” I cried before June could respond. “I don’t knooooow! I know nothing other than the three of us are genetic freaks and at some point in the future—could be next week, could be fifteen years from now—I’m hooking up with Julian. That’s all I know.”
“You’re on the honor roll,” June said. “You know a lot more than just those two things.”
“June, having you around is like having the Greek chorus from Oedipus Rex following me all the time.”
She just shrugged. “I don’t know what that means, but I’m pretty sure it’s not a compliment.”
“You got it.”
A salesperson came wandering over to us, looking like she’d rather be shot than spend her evening selling electronics. But as she got closer, my sisters and I froze.
It was Avery, her black hair pinned back in a somewhat professional-looking manner.
“Do you need help with anything?” she asked us.
May, June, and I all froze. “Um,” June started to say.
“Well—” I said, then cleared my throat. Avery just stared at us, like we hadn’t almost mowed her down with our car the other day.
May, of course, answered for us. “Do we need help?” she repeated. “Oh, honey, where do I even begin?”
I nudged her hard in the arm. “Um, no, we’re fine, we just … you go to our school, right?”
Avery nodded. “Um, yeah, I guess so. I think I’ve seen you.”
“We drive to school,” June added helpfully.
“Okay, yeah,” she said. “That’s cool. I think I’ve seen you hang out with Mariah before, right?”
June beamed like a star. “We’re friends.”
May muttered something I couldn’t quite hear, but June shot her an angry look and then turned back to Avery. “Those are really nice khakis,” she offered.
“Okay!” I said, stepping in. “I think we’re gonna need a few minutes, but thanks.”
“Cool,” Avery said, then walked away from us.
“Is it just me,” May asked as soon as she was out of earshot, “or is that girl on some sort of animal tranquilizer?”
“She thinks Mariah and I are friends!” June said gleefully. “She totally knows who Mariah is, oh my God this is so great!” She hopped up and down, making her hair bounce.
May just looked at June. “June, the girl’s a moron! She doesn’t even know we almost hit her with a car! She didn’t even recognize us!”
“Maybe she was in shock,” June offered. “Don’t judge.”
“I’m pretty sure that if someone almost hit me with a car,” I said, “I’d remember what they looked like.”
“So get this,” May said, apropos of nothing while June wandered over to a television that looked almost right. “Guess what we’re reading in my English class now?”
“A book,” June said. “I win.”
“Oh, not just any book,” May told her. “Guess which one?”
I thought back to my sophomore-year reading list and started to laugh. “Oh, no!” I giggled. “Oh, that’s terrible.”
“Right?” May sighed. “Thank you.”
“What book? What book?” June came back over and swatted at both of us. “Tell me, I want to—oh!” Her eyes lit up, and I could tell she was reading our minds simultaneously. “Invisible Man?” she gasped. “Are you serious?”
May just nodded her head. “None of it rings true. It’s very poorly researched. The dude’s clothes don’t even disappear so he’s both invisible and naked.” May shuddered. “Seriously, I could write a remake.”
“It’s a good book,” I told her.
May glanced up at me. “Don’t Pollyanna your way through this one. I’m an invisible girl reading about an invisible man. There’s no way to sugarcoat that.”
She had a point.
“I have an ironic twist, too!” June announced to me. “So get this. Everybody at school today hated my skirt—”
“Shock me,” I said.
“But Mariah liked it!”
I was shocked. (If you could see this skirt, you’d be shocked, too.) “Really?”
June nodded. “Really. No one else did, but she did.”
“Really?” I wasn’t trying very hard to keep the surprise out of my voice.
“Yeah,” June gloated. “Bet you couldn’t predict that.”
“I don’t think anyone could have.” I glanced down at her skirt. “Seriously, no one could have seen this coming.”
May wrinkled her nose and leaned against a stack of speaker boxes. “Is this even a good thing?”
“Oh my God, how have you two survived in the pirahna fishtank that is high school?” June looked so perplexed that it was almost cute. “She’s the most popular sophomore girl. If you’re friends with her, it’s like having an E-Z pass to the golden gates of popularity.”
“How long have you been dying to say that sentence?” I asked her.
“About a week.”
“Mariah?” May asked. “Is she the blonde one?”
“No!” June said. “The dark-hair one with the cool highlights. And the one with the amazing fashion sense, obviously.” She fluffed her pink skirt as though it were peacock feathers. “She likes my skirt, so I’m in.”
“Mariah?” May said again. “Isn’t she the one that always looks like she’s trapped in someone’s headlights?”
June either didn’t get or ignored the headlights comment. “That’s her!”
May let out a short laugh and leaned against a stack of boxes. I scanned furiously to see if they would topple on her, but nothing seemed perilous. “Dude, are you kidding?” May grinned. “I know that girl. She looks like a walking pharmacy. Every time she opens her mouth, I think an Adderall’s going to come out. She’s a Pez dispenser.”
“She’s not a Pez dispenser,” June huffed. “You just heard some stupid rumor probably, and you’re all jealous because she’s not your friend.”
“She’s not yours, either.”
“Not yet. But she’s gonna be. Right, April?”
“Hey, sorry to interrupt this verbal tug-of-war,” I told them, “but can we get back to the issue at hand?”
“To be honest,” May said, “I’d rather not discuss your future sexual partners. I’m sure you understand.” She put her hand up and pretended to high-five me. “Godspeed, big sister.”
I ignored her. “You guys, we really
need to talk. This is gonna get out of hand if we don’t do something. We need a plan.”
“A plan?” May asked. “How can you make a plan for this … this insanity?”
June just beamed. “You’re in luck! I have a plan! I wrote it out in fifth period because we were watching a film about earthworms, ew.”
“No wormy minds to read?” I asked her, but she just stuck her tongue out and rooted in her purse until she found a piece of scratch paper covered in pink ink.
“Our plan is written in pink ink,” May grinned with what I’ve learned to recognize as false sincerity. “Great. What could possibly go wrong now?”
I took the paper from June and smoothed it out in my hands. “Let me see it,” I said. “Maybe this will be the great thing that saves us from eternal damn—” I read the first item and stopped. “Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me, June.”
“What? What?” May tugged at my arm. “I can’t read it; the pink ink is burning into my corneas. Tell me what it says.”
“There’re a lot of DVDs,” I said after a minute. “And something about dressing up as witches for Halloween.”
May looked down at June. “Are you for real?”
June pouted. “I’m filing you both under ‘Lame.’”
“Put it on the list,” I told her.
“We could go buy all those movies now!” June protested. “They’re probably right over there!” She pointed towards the DVD section, where more khaki-wearing employees lurked.
“This ‘plan’ of yours,” May told her, “is really an Amazon Wishlist.”
This was getting way out of control. I already knew this conversation was going to end in an argument, though, so I just plowed ahead. “Okay,” I said. “We need to use these things for good, not evil.”
May and June just blinked at me.
“I’m serious,” I said. “Like, today, during the earthquake? Right before it happened, I saw Julian almost getting hit by a falling light, so when it happened, I shoved him out of the way.”
“Of course you did,” May muttered. “He’s your sexy man—you gotta preserve that so you can tap that.”