Laurie answers for me. “You’re crazy about him. Like I’ve never seen.”
But now I am irascible because he is invisible.
I crack a slight smile at my silent joke. I don’t know if it means I’m recovering or about to totally lose it.
“Don’t you want to help him?” Laurie asks.
“He’s invisible.” I say it and my voice cracks.
“I know,” he says. “It must be awful.”
Laurie has done what Laurie does best. He sees the world through the other person, the hurting person. He is seeing life as the invisible boy, who watches everything without ever being noticed himself.
“When no one can see who you are, no one really knows you,” he says. “The loneliness must be like an ulcer that’s always gnawing at your gut.”
“But . . .” I say. Guilt begins to chip away at my outrage, but pride tries to weld my indignant humiliation back in place.
“But what?” he says. “You know it’s true. You heard him. No one has ever seen him. Not even his own mother.”
I nod. Something in my chest is cracking and I shudder. Laurie puts his arm around me.
“No one has seen him. Except you.”
He lets the words sink in. I nod again.
“That has to mean something,” he says.
“What does it mean?” I whisper.
“I think it means you’re the one who can cure him.”
“Cure him?” Immediately I want to call Mom. She knows people at the Mayo Clinic. She can pull strings. We’ll figure this out.
Laurie has seen something spark in my eyes and he grabs my hand. “No, Elizabeth. Maybe cure is the wrong word. Don’t go there. It’s not a disease. If you treat him . . . in that way you’ll never see him again and his ending up on Dateline would be a best-case scenario.”
“How do you know that?” I ask. “What if he does need a cure?”
Part of me wants a rational explanation. Something that science can drop into a textbook and let us all learn to live with because someone else claims to understand it.
“He said he’s cursed,” Laurie says. “Curses aren’t diseases, they’re . . .”
Now he starts realizing what he’s about to say. He offers me a helpless sigh.
“Oh my God,” I say. “Magic? Give me a break.”
“He’s invisible!” Laurie stands up and paces across the room.
“I know!” I draw my knees to my chest. “But magic? It’s not . . . real.”
“And invisibility is?” Laurie says. “Elizabeth, I could not see him. Nothing. Not anything.”
“I know . . . I just can’t . . . how can this even . . . ?” I dig my fists into the couch cushions.
“I thought I was having a Pop-Tart hallucination at first.”
“Come on.” I’m not ready for jokes yet.
“I’m serious,” he says. “If you eat more than fifteen, things can get a little crazy.”
“Whatever.” Irritation curls around me like a blanket and I feel better. It’s easier when I’m angry. Anger has been my armor for a while now and I’m comfortable slipping into it again.
“Don’t.” Laurie has other ideas. “Don’t do that.”
“I’m not doing anything,” I say, withdrawing further into myself.
“Liar,” he says. “Being pissed will get you nowhere.”
“Don’t tell me how to feel.”
“Then stop acting like a baby,” he says. “Stephen didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“He lied to me!” That’s the worst part. I still can’t quite believe he’s invisible. I can see him. I’ve held him. Kissed him. But the lies are all too real.
“Can you blame him?” Laurie asks. When I glare, he says, “Obviously, you can. But I think you’re taking this the wrong way.”
I tear my eyes off him, staring at the blank television screen instead. I see Laurie’s and my reflections on its surface like we’re the hour-long drama playing out for the world to see.
“If you were in his place, what would you have done?” he asks.
I look at him, open my mouth, and realize I don’t have an answer.
“No one has ever seen him,” Laurie says. “Until you.”
Suddenly he walks out of the room. I stare after him, thinking he’s decided he’s made his point and is leaving me to either retreat to anger, sulk, or come up with my own solution. But a minute later he’s back with a comic in his hand. He walks up to me, thrusting the Runaways in my face.
“Who had me get this for you?”
“Shut up,” I say.
“Stop it!” He’s shouting. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself and get a clue about what’s happening here!”
“Why don’t you explain it to me since you have all the answers!”
“He’s in love with you!” Laurie throws the comic at me. “When he figured out I was here, he could have bolted back to his place, waited for you to show, and then made an excuse about having forgotten something. He could have found a way to lie again, Elizabeth, but he didn’t. He told you what he hasn’t told anyone. And he told me too. He frickin’ let me trace the shape of his face with my hands. How weird must that have been?”
I want to yell at him, but I can’t. I can’t do anything but cradle the Runaways against my chest.
Laurie isn’t done yet. “He is in love with you and if you love him at all, you need to figure out how you’re going to deal with this. He needs you to do that. And if you want me to continue to respect you, I need you to do that too.”
“Okay.” I say it quietly.
“Okay?” Laurie’s chest is still puffed up, like he expected another round or two of shouting. “Oh.”
He sits beside me.
“So what do I do?” I ask.
“I’m not sure,” he says. “You’re the one who knows him. What do you think you should do?”
“Apologize?”
“Probably.” He smiles. “But don’t overdo it. You’re right about the lying. Lying is not okay. Forgiving him for it is a good idea, but I’m not happy about my sister’s boyfriend being dishonest either.”