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CHAPTER TWO

MY HEART NEARLY LEAPS OUT of my chest when the big boom hits. When I can breathe again, I jump from my bed and run to the door, opening it up. I expect to find complete disaster on my doorstep, but instead I just find Jersey in a pile, wearing a cape from three Halloweens ago. It’s way too small, but does that stop him? Hell no. He’d still be in his toddler-sized Ninja Turtle underwear if our mom hadn’t thrown them out last year. Jersey has a hard time letting go of the things he loves.

He falls into my room, his head landing on my feet. “Hi, Sister,” he says, looking up at me, his expression pure innocence and mostly blank. He almost never smiles.

“What are you doing, Jersey?” “Being invisible.”

I sigh heavily. “Could you please go be invisible somewhere else? I’m really busy right now.”

“Can you see me?” he asks, getting up on all fours and dog-walking into my room. He crawls under my desk and pulls the chair in as far as he can, trapping himself behind the legs.

“Nope. You’re totally invisible. Where are you? In the kitchen? Oh, what a great idea. Why don’t you go to the kitchen?” I shut my door and go back to my bed, sitting against my headboard and putting my laptop back on my legs.

“Dad said he can see me.”

“Dad’s a damn liar.” I tap away at the keys, putting another bulleted point on the list of things I want the lawyer to see.

“Dad’s a damn liar,” he says. “Dad’s a damn liar.” “That’s what I said. Don’t wear it out.”

“Dad’s a damn liar.”

I ignore him. It’s the only way to get him to shut up. He gets wound up

 

with too much attention paid to him. “Mom’s a damn liar.”

I can’t help but grin. “You should go tell her that.” “I’m not stupid, you know,” he says.

I look up to find him frowning at me.

“No one said you’re stupid. I’ve said you have half a brain, but that’s only an expression.”

“What does it mean?”

I sigh, feeling just a touch guilty. “It means you’re awesome cuz you’re not like other lame kids. Now can I please do my work?”

“Dad’s a damn liar,” he says. “Yeah, I know.”

“So is Mom. Mom’s a damn liar.” “Yep.”

“I’m gonna go tell her.” He crawls out from under the desk. “I’m gonna go tell her right now.”

“Good. Go tell her,” I say absently, not really paying attention to him.

Another glitch in these stupid reports just jumped out at me and makes me want to slap myself for not noticing it earlier. It’s added another hour to an already too-long project that I need to have done by four o’clock.

I’m alone for about five minutes before I realize that it’s way too quiet in the house. With four maniac kids and two loud adults at this address, it’s never ever this quiet, not even in the middle of the night. Jersey’s a sleep-walking maniac so we always have shit going on.

My brain alarm goes off when the only thing I can hear is my bedside clock ticking. I didn’t even know that thing did that.

“Jersey?” I look up and out into the little bit of hallway I can see from my bed. No answer.

“Shit.” I put the computer down and wander out of my room, fully expecting my brother to be pressed up against a wall pretending to be invisible. He can be very determined when he’s in the mood. “Jersey? Where are you, punk? Stop fucking around.”

My other brother and sister are at camp, so they’re nowhere around at this time of the day.

“Jersey!” No answer.

My blood pressure creeps up.

After a quick search, I realize he’s not inside the house. I move out to the backyard. Anxiety settles in as I come to the conclusion that he’s not in his little

 

clubhouse or the shed. The only thing left is the front yard and then the great big wide-open world out there, otherwise known as my mom’s worst nightmare.

Jersey is ripe for the picking. Any kidnapper, molester, or run-of-the-mill murderer would take one look at him and yell Bingo! Cha-ching! Come to papa!

For the first time in my life, I believe I’m getting a taste of what my mom deals with on a daily basis, and I don’t like it one bit.

“Jersey!” I scream, as I run down the front stairs and out into the yard. “Where are you, Jersey?!”

Old lady Ludke from across the street waves at me frantically and then points to the side of her house. Putting her finger to her lips in a shushing gesture, she smiles.

My heart-rate drops in half. Fucking Jersey. Thank God we have understanding neighbors. Living in the same place for twenty years has its benefits.

I storm across the street, waving to her as I pick up the pace and jog over to the side of her house. Jersey’s there, his back pressed into her bushes, staring off into space.

Invisible, my ass.

There are two ways I can handle this. The first is tempting, where I grab him by the arm and drag him back home, lecturing him the entire way about giving me a damn heart attack. The other is more of a pain in the ass, but seeing him standing there with that ratty-ass cape over one shoulder and dirt smudged across his cheek is just too much. I’m left with no choice.

I look away instead of manhandling him and stare off into the back yard. “Jeeeeerseeeeey? Where aaaare youuuuuu?” I walk right past him towards Mrs. Ludke’s back yard.

He giggles, but I keep going.

“Jeeerseeeyyy! I can’t see you if you’re invisible! You have to talk to me! I don’t want you to get left outside all day!” The evil part of my personality decides to join in the fun. I’m never one hundred percent angel, ever. “I’d hate for that lion that’s been roaming around the neighborhood to find you when he’s hungry. You know how much they like to eat little boys.”

The leaves in the bushes rustle as I reach the gate leading to the backyard. “I’ll check this yard and then I guess I’ll have to call the police. And the animal control people, just in case the lion is nearby.”

Little footsteps come up behind me, but I pretend to be busy with the gate

 

latch.

 

“Boo!” he yells, poking me in the back with a pointy finger.

“Ack! Mother fucker!” I spin around and grab for him, but he’s too fast.

 

He takes off, shrieking the entire way, across the neighbor’s lawn and ours too before disappearing inside the house.

I’m out of breath as I follow behind, half of my energy spent waving to Mrs. Ludke, the other half getting control of my heartbeat.

Ten minutes later I’ve finally got him locked in my room with me and happy enough to settle down and let me work.

“Tastes good,” he says, licking his lips.

“Yeah. Yummy. Just don’t bite it. Put it on, lick it off. That’s how it works. That’s how the cool kids do it.”

He lifts the grape chapstick to his lips. “Put it on …,” he smears it all around his mouth about ten times, “…lick it off.” The licking part is kind of nasty, but as long as I don’t look directly at him, I’m fine.

My fingers fly across the keys as I finish up my report. All the while I’m working, I follow the rhythm set by my little brother …

“Put it on … lick it off … put it on … lick it off…”