He’s shaking and his face has taken on a gray pallor that makes me shiver.
“But you aren’t evil,” I say. “And neither was your mother. She rejected that legacy.”
“And look where it got her.” Stephen pulls away from me. He gets up and walks to the window, staring into the distance. “This is who I am. I am invisible.”
“No, no, no,” Laurie says. He walks to the window, and I’m glad he doesn’t bump into Stephen. I’m also touched that he wants to try to be close to someone he can’t see. He’s trying so hard.
Laurie waves his hands as if trying to clear a foul odor. “We’re not doing that. No pity parties, no drowning in despair. Who’s for karma?”
“Karma?” I ask.
“I know they say ‘no good deed goes unpunished,’ but that’s crap. Stephen’s mother did something amazing. And I think that means something.”
“It means she died still being punished for her father being an evil bastard,” Stephen says.
“And that sucks, no argument,” Laurie tells him. “But that’s not the end of the story. It’s the beginning . . . maybe the middle.”
Laurie reaches out tentatively and I hold my breath. The movement catches Stephen’s eye and I watch him tense up. But Laurie manages to lightly touch Stephen’s arm. When he feels the muscles flexed under his fingers, he moves his hand up to squeeze Stephen’s shoulder.
“You’re the story now,” Laurie says. “You decide how it’s going to end.”
I stand up and go to the window. Stephen watches as I take his hand and then take Laurie’s hand. We’re standing in a circle, facing each other.
Laurie grins. “Your mission, should you choose to accept it—”
Stephen finally cracks a smile. “Nice. Finding an invisible man is as close to impossible as it can get.”
“But I found you,” I say. Stephen squeezes my fingers.
“And I have an idea,” Laurie says. “Be right back.”
Laurie winks at me and darts into the hallway, closing the apartment door firmly behind him.
“Why does that make me nervous?” Stephen asks.
“Because while Laurie’s enthusiasm can be infectious, infectious things can be very nasty.”
Stephen pulls me into his arms. We stand there without speaking. I can see him. I can feel the rise and fall of his chest. Outrage and grief are sloshing around in my gut, hot and volatile as a bubbling cauldron. How could anyone lay a curse on their own child? Or on a baby? Stephen was stolen from this world before he took his first breath. It was a miracle he survived at all. Maybe Laurie had hit on the single truth that we could cling to like a life raft: the story wasn’t over. Against all odds, Stephen had made his way in a world that didn’t know he existed. Against all odds, I’d moved into a building far away from the home I’d known, the only girl who could see her invisible neighbor.
I want to be in control of my own life. But I can’t deny the improbable circumstances that have brought Stephen and me together. And now that I’m here, that I have him, I want to believe impossible things are possible. I’m ready for miracles.
“What are you thinking about?” Stephen asks.
“Saving you,” I say. He leans down and presses his face into my neck. I realize he’s whispering something. I listen harder.
“I love you,” he says again.
My fingers dig into his shoulders.
“I’m back!” Laurie slams the door shut.
It must look so strange: me standing there, clinging to an invisible boy who I love but am terrified for and at times am terrified of.
We let each other go but stay close so our bodies are touching as we turn to face Laurie.
“Don’t be mad,” Laurie says.
“What did you do?” I ask.
“I had to make a phone call,” Laurie says. “We needed a little more help.”
“Who did you call?” Stephen takes a step forward, eyes narrowing.
Laurie’s cheeks go pink. “Sean.”
“What?” Stephen goes rigid, frozen in place as he stares at Laurie.
“Laurie!” I stomp across the room. “You do not use crises to impress your crush. What the hell?!”
Laurie rolls his eyes. “Cut the tantrum, Josie. You splotch when you’re angry. It’s not attractive.”
Stephen’s voice is quiet and dangerous. “What did you call Sean for, Laurie?”
“Don’t be mad,” Laurie says. “I didn’t tell him anything. I swear. I just needed to ask him something.”
“What?” Stephen walks towards us.
“I remembered something he said when we first met.” Laurie’s flushed cheeks match the sparkle in his eyes. Whatever it is, he’s really excited about it. “I was trying to get to know him and I only knew he loved comics, so I asked him all sorts of questions about them.”
“Comics are the cure?” My arms are folded across my chest. I’m about to lose my temper again, splotching or not.
“Not comics, exactly,” Laurie says. “When I asked Sean where he usually got his comics, he told me a few places, but there was one he got weird about.”
“A weird comic shop?” I ask.
Laurie nods. “He said it’s his favorite, but he’s kind of afraid to go there.”
“Why?” Stephen asks.
“I think he used the expression ‘creep show,’” Laurie says. “Going into the shop is like visiting a haunted house or a mad scientist’s lair. Sean said kids hang out on the stoop daring each other to stay inside for more than five minutes. He claims none of them can do it.”
“Really?” Stephen’s expression has grown curious, but his eyes are wary.
“Yep,” Laurie says. “Sean said he’s never been able to stay longer than fifteen minutes.”
“So why does he even go there?” I ask.
“I guess they have a better collection of rare and special edition books than anyone else in the city,” Laurie says.
Now I’m curious. “But what does this have to do with our problem?” I ask.
“Not our problem,” Laurie says. “Our mission. Let’s call it a mission. Or a quest.”
“Why does it matter what we call it?” Stephen asks.