"This is not happening."

She turned away from her mirror and paced the length of her room twice. A nervous knot was forming in her stomach. This was not normal by any stretch of the word.

I’ve always been so…normal…

She sat down on her bed, desperate to calm down. She glanced again at her mirror. She saw nothing in it, save the room behind her and the bed where she sat. She did not see herself.

"Okay, I know I’m not a vampire, so there has to be another explanation." She ran her fingers through her hair, fidgeting nervously with a tangle that she could not see. Her breaths came slightly faster. She was invisible.

How long has this been happening?

Closing her eyes, she flopped back on her bed and stared at the ceiling. She was a normal teenager. Plain old Leila Mackenzie. So what was going on? She had heard of those freaks that roamed society—the mutants—but she wasn’t one…

Was she? She was invisible, after all.

A strange tingling feeling shivered down her spine. She sat up and opened her eyes, looking in the mirror again. There she was. Black hair, startling blue eyes, white T-shirt, and blue jeans. An ordinary, nondescript teenager. She breathed a sigh of relief.

But it plagued her mind. Maybe not in the front of her consciousness, but it tickled the back. She was no longer normal. She was afraid. Was she…a mutant? But how? Both of her parents were normal. Her little sister was normal…so far. None of her relatives were mutants…

She was alone. Who could she talk to? Could she tell Lisa? Would Lisa understand? Or would she stare, shy away from her, and whisper?

She hated being whispered about. She shuddered. She would not tell Lisa. She would not tell her teachers. She would not, could not tell her parents. Maybe her sister would understand. Maybe. She was only six. Yes. Cary would listen. Cary didn’t understand what it meant to be…a freak. A mutant. Cary was just a little kid.

How long could she hold out, she wondered. She had to do something. She needed to figure out how often it happened. If she could control it, she could hide it. No one noticed someone that was invisible. At least she didn’t shoot lasers or something.

She glanced at her clock. It was 3:30. Cary would be home from school in five minutes. Her parents would not be home until five o’clock. She would talk to Cary.

The back door opened. She stood. Cary was home. She chewed her lip. Time to prime Cary for the bad news.

* * *

"Cary?"

She poked her head around the corner into the kitchen. A six-year-old girl sat at the table with a cookie and a glass of milk. She looked up, pigtails sticking out somewhat, and blue eyes staring back at her older sister.

"Hi Leila," the girl chirped. She bit into the cookie with apparent satisfaction. Leila sat down at the table with her, looking nervous. Cary immediately noticed.

"Are you afraid?" she asked. She broke the rest of her cookie in half and offered it to her older sister. "Want the rest of my cookie?"

Leila shook her head. "No. Cary, I need to talk to you. Upstairs."

Cary’s eyes widened. "Whatever it is, I didn’t do it!"

Leila almost laughed. "No. You’re not in trouble. I am."

Cary didn’t look any less horrified. "Did you get a nose ring?"

This time, Leila did laugh. "No. Cary, I…"

"Or a boyfriend?"

"No. I’ll tell you upstairs."

Leila stood, heading out of the kitchen. Cary finished her milk and followed her sister.

"Did you get a detention?"

"No!"

* * *

Cary stared at her sister as the two of them sat cross-legged on the floor in Leila’s room. "So what are you in trouble about?"

Leila sighed. "Mom and Dad don’t know yet. This is going to sound really weird, but…"

"You’re married?"

"NO!" Leila howled. "Cary!"

"Sorry."

Leila sighed, then started again. "Cary, I have problems."

Cary immediately became more somber. "Are you sick?"

Leila pondered that question a moment. "Not really. But, I am…different. Cary, have you watched the news and seen people they call…mutants?"

Cary brightened. "Yeah! There was this one lady who makes things explode! It was cool! Mom wouldn’t let me watch the rest of it, though."

Leila looked at the floor. At least her sister didn’t seem scared by mutants. She didn’t understand what it meant yet.

"Cary, you have to promise not to tell Mom and Dad about this."

Cary held a childish hand over her heart and held the other one up. "I promise."

"No. Really promise. They can’t know yet. I have to tell them."

Cary nodded. "I promise I won’t tell, Leila. I didn’t tell on you when you went and got ice cream when you were grounded."

Leila admitted this was true and sighed. "Cary, I have a really really big secret, and for now, I can only tell you."

Cary waited, eyes sparkling. Leila swallowed.

"You know about how these mutant people can do weird things, Cary?"

Cary nodded. Leila looked at the floor a moment.

"I just realized that…I might be one of them."

Cary’s eyes shot open. "Cool! How do you know?"

Leila seemed taken aback by her sister’s delight, but decided to explain.

"You see, Cary, sometimes…I can’t see myself. I…I disappear."

Cary wrinkled up her nose. "No you don’t. I can see you."

Leila set her jaw. "Cary, it’s happened a lot of times. I was looking in the mirror a while ago, and I couldn’t see myself. I can switch back and forth. Right now you can see me. In a few minutes, you might not be able to. Or it might not happen again for a week."

"I want to see you turn invisible. Can you do it now?"

Leila threw her hands up in the air. "Cary, I can’t control it. It does it by itself."

Cary seemed disappointed, but nodded. She was quiet a few minutes, then looked up at her big sister.

"Something wrong?" Leila asked. Cary tried to smile.

"The people on TV didn’t like mutants very much. I don’t think Daddy likes them either. I heard him say that they’re dangerous."

"Well, I’m not dangerous," Leila said with a weak smile. "Dad knows that." Her smile faded. "But how can I tell him?"

Cary said nothing for a moment, then whispered in her sister’s ear, "I won’t tell…"

* * *

Leila did not sleep well that night. In the back of her mind, her secret plagued her, reminding her. After rolling over and fluffing her pillows and readjusting her sheets, she sighed and turned on her bedside light.

"This is crazy. I have a test tomorrow in English, and at this rate I won’t get a wink of sleep."

She had told Cary about her strange ability, but breathing her secret to her little sister had not been enough. She needed to tell someone else. Someone who could help her. She shivered. She wasn’t ready to tell her parents yet. But who? She still wondered how Lisa would take it. They had been best friends since sixth grade. Surely six years of close friendship would withstand a secret like that. Lisa would understand, wouldn’t she? Lisa would help her muster the courage to tell her parents. She had to. She was all Leila had.

Switching off her light with a nervous sense of relief, Leila made herself as comfortable as her worry would allow, and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

It was fairly calm in second period science class. A few boys in the back were shooting spitballs, but it was nothing new. Leila sat three seats to the left, two rows back from the teacher’s desk, right next to Lisa Thompson, her best friend. They had a substitute today, Leila noticed. An older woman, probably a few ho-ho’s over her prime weight, shifted uncomfortably in Mr. Dolan’s chair, fidgeting with papers.

"I’m Mrs. Grande," she said stiffly. Leila smiled. The lady was funny. She glanced at Lisa. Lisa snickered.

"I’m told that Mr. Dolan left you some work to do. I will be handing that out after taking roll. When I call your name, please raise your hand and state that you are here."

There was a general shuffle of bodies and papers as Mrs. Grande cleared her throat and began to call roll.

"Brenda Anderson."

A red-head in the back responded. Mrs. Grande nodded.

"Andrew Carver."

A bespectacled boy raised his hand. "Here, Mrs. Grande."

She nodded, then paused. "Oh, Mr. Carver, do you suppose you could make some copies of this assignment? I’m certain there aren’t enough here for everyone."

The boy agreed happily and left to make copies.

"He’s such a kiss up," Lisa whispered to Leila. Leila nodded, then removed a piece of paper from her notebook and scribbled a message on it.

"Lisa, I have something important to tell you. I have to tell you today, because I can’t wait any longer."

Looking up at Mrs. Grande, she slipped the note to Lisa. Her friend read it and penned her response.

"Tell me at lunch. We can’t risk ‘Mrs. Grande’ catching us passing notes."

Leila read the response and nodded.

"Leila Mackenzie?"

Leila was startled for a moment. Had she been caught? Mrs. Grande was looking around, not at her. She sighed. The substitute was still taking roll.

Leila put her hand up. "Here."

Strangely, Mrs. Grande did not seem to see her. "Where? Does anyone know where Leila Mackenzie sits?"

Everyone knew all too well. All eyes were focused on Leila—or at least, where she should have been.

Leila was unsure at first what had just happened. All she had done was answer to her name. But gradually it crept over her like a chill. She had just become invisible in front of the entire class. She swallowed. She hadn’t even been aware of it until now. She looked over at Lisa. She was as white as a ghost, and absolutely horrified.

Leila swallowed again, but her mouth was dry. Slowly, she pushed her chair back. The class gasped and scuffled backwards, eyes transfixed on the chair that seemed to move by itself.

She started walking away, heading for the door. The class began to mumble and stir at the sound of footsteps in a room where everyone was dead still. She walked faster, finally breaking into a run. Some of the class jumped to its feet, others recoiled in fear.

Leila hit the door at a sprint, flinging it open. She plowed into Andrew Carver, who was returning with a neat stack of fresh copies. The class went into a frenzy as Andrew was knocked to the ground by an unseen force, sending papers everywhere. More frantic footsteps were heard racing down the hallway.

Leila stopped in the gym, desperate for breath. She couldn’t shake the cold terror. They knew. She had known that it was only a matter of time, but…why now? So soon? How long before it was all over the school?

She felt herself return to normal, though her hands and her knees shook. "I have to go home," she thought. "I can have the secretary call my mom at work and tell her that I’m not feeling well and am coming home."

Still shaking in her knees, she made her way to the office. She found the secretary on the phone, looking pale and shaken.

"Not in this school…Mrs. Grande, you must be mistaken. Really? Yes, I will, of course-"

She nearly dropped the phone when she saw Leila, then sputtered into it, "Sorry, I have to go. S-she’s right here. Mm-hm, bye."

Hanging up quickly, she turned to Leila, looking more than a little nervous.

"Young lady, would you mind staying here while I go talk to the principal? Seems there was a little trouble in one of the science rooms, and…uh…nothing to worry about…"

She scurried away, throwing a cautious look over her shoulder. Leila sat, wondering what to do. Word was already spreading. The secretary would tell the principal, and the principal would warn the school via intercom, and the police would be called…Leila shuddered.

She stood and ran for the school’s front doors. Her mind whirled as she muttered to herself, "I’d be in such deep trouble for cutting school like this if I weren’t already toast flambé."

She bounded outside to her car and climbed in. She would not wait for them to call the police. She did not know what would happen, and did not care to find out.

As she started it and pulled away, she noticed a few students rushing from the classrooms to catch a last glimpse of their mutant classmate. Word was out. Her life as she had always known it was coming to an end.

* * *

She stopped in the driveway of her house and let out a huge sigh, resting her head on the steering wheel.

"I am so dead."

She shut off the car and looked around cautiously before slipping inside her house. Her parents were both at work, and Cary was at school. It wasn’t even noon yet. No one was due home until 3:30, when Cary got out of school. She had several hours to decide what she would do.

Locking herself in her room, she flopped on her bed to think. "Let’s see…I can tell mom and dad that I felt sick and came home early, which isn’t true. I can tell them I got sent home for something I did, which isn’t only not true, it’s also dumb. Or…I can tell them what happened and watch them freak out…"

She felt tears spring to her eyes, but she resisted them, and got up to get some tissue.

"Come on, Leila," she said to herself, looking at herself in the mirror. "You can handle this. Lisa might still understand…"

She sniffed and turned away from her reflection. Why did it have to happen then and there? Now the whole school knew…she shuddered. She knew what they did to the nerds in the school. Egged and toilet papered their houses, broke their windows, beat them up…and she was worse than a nerd. At least nerds were human. At least society as a whole didn’t hate nerds. They just poked fun at them. But society feared mutants.

She was a mutant.

Leila sat down at her desk and found a scrap of blank paper to write on. Somehow, she wished she kept a diary. She shoved the thought from her mind. The annoying thing about diaries was that they always seemed to fall into the wrong hands.

She picked up a pencil and began to scribble down her thoughts on the paper. Her words came in a rush of jumbled phrases.

"Mom and Dad—I know this is going to sound crazy, but I have something really important to tell you. I recently discovered that I am different…"

Leila stuck out her tongue at the statement and continued. "I believe I am a mutant. Please, you have to understand. I can’t handle it myself, I--"

Leila stopped, put down the pencil, and stared. With a weary sigh, she crumpled the paper and pitched it into her wastebasket. She couldn’t just write them a note. She had to tell them. But how? She felt sick just thinking about it.

"Maybe I will be sick enough to stay home after all," she groaned. She laid her head on the desk and closed her eyes. She had a headache. Maybe if she took a nap it would go away. Grimacing, she retreated to her bed and settled in to catch a few winks.

Not long after she had drifted off, the telephone rang. She did not hear it and dozed peacefully. After four rings, the answering machine picked up. The caller left a message.

"Mr. or Mrs. Mackenzie, this is principal Warner from your daughter’s high school. I’m calling about an incident that occurred this morning in second period science…"

* * *

Leila had no idea how long she had slept, but awoke to the sound of the back door opening. She jolted upright and sprinted downstairs. Cary was home. She had to tell her what had happened.

She found the girl in the kitchen as always, getting herself a cookie and a glass of milk. She smiled up at her big sister as Leila entered.

"We’re learning how to add numbers," Cary said cheerfully. "What did you learn in school today, Leila?"

Leila smirked painfully. "How to get in really big trouble without even trying."

Cary obviously didn’t understand. Leila sighed and made herself a glass of chocolate milk before explaining the awful scene in her science class. Cary listened with a childish solemnity, completely forgetting her half-eaten cookie.

"I won’t tell mom ‘n dad," the little girl said quietly. "I don’t want you to get in trouble."

Leila sighed. "I know you won’t tell, but I’ll have to. If I don’t tell them first, they’ll get a call from the principal or a nasty letter or something, and they’ll get the wrong idea."

"Did they call the police?" Cary asked.

"I don’t know. I left school," Leila said wearily. Cary slouched in her chair.

"I get in big trouble if I don’t let the other kids use the peach crayon."

Leila smiled. "I wish I had your problems, Cary." The two girls finished their snacks and set the glasses in the dishwasher.

"Why don’t you come up to my room and help me figure out how to tell mom and dad?" Leila suggested, putting a hand on Cary’s head. The girl smiled and agreed to the idea, following her sister upstairs.

* * *

An hour and a half later, Leila was talking more to herself than to Cary, who was coloring at Leila’s desk.

Leila paced the length of her room nervously. "So, how do I tell them? Should I just kind of sit them down and bring it out flat, or kind of lead up to it and beat around the bush? And if I do say it right out of the blue, how will they react? What if they don’t believe me? What if they do, and they get upset?"

She sighed and banged her head against her bedroom door. "My life stinks." She leaned there for a while, listening to the sounds of her parents in the kitchen. Her mother was making dinner, and her father was talking with her. How was work? Just fine thank you. When would dinner be ready? Ten minutes. Do we have any phone messages?

Leila listened as her father said he didn’t know and would check the answering machine. She vaguely heard the muttering of the machine downstairs, but there was no missing the voice of her father as he roared, "WHAT???"

Leila jumped, standing bolt upright, wondering what on earth had made him so upset. She opened her door a crack to listen in. He was firing off rapid, heated comments to her mother right now. She did not catch most of it, but did not miss one phrase. "My daughter is NOT a mutant!"

She looked at Cary, who had also heard it and was also wide-eyed with surprise. The two locked eyes a moment.

"I didn’t tell, Leila! I swear!" the girl croaked. Leila felt sick. Her heart was fluttering. A shiver rippled down her spine.

"Leila!"

She turned to look at Cary again. She was staring—no, more like gawking—in amazement. "Where did you go???"

Leila looked at her hands. She had gone invisible again.

"It’s okay, Cary, I’m right here," she assured her sister, though her own voice shook.

"You’re invisible? Cool!"

"Not so cool," Leila groaned, hearing heavy footsteps ascending the stairs. "I am in such big trouble…"

She stepped away from the door, expecting her father to fling it open. He did not disappoint her.

"Leila!"

He stopped suddenly, realizing that his daughter was not in her room. Or so he thought. He saw only Cary, who looked terrified.

"Cary, what are you doing in your sister’s room?" he asked. Cary fidgeted with a crayon for a moment.

"She let me come in."

"And where is she now?"

Cary looked all around, as if hoping she’d spot her sister. "She’s still in here…"

"Don’t fib, Carissa. Where is your sister?"

Leila sighed and did what she never dreamed she’d be able to do. She stepped right in front of her father and put a hand on his shoulder.

"I’m right here, dad."

He jumped nearly a foot in the air and searched the room desperately for the source of the voice.

"Don’t bother looking for me. You can’t see me."

He stopped, now just listening. "Leila?"

"It’s me. I’m invisible."

He sputtered incredulously. "Come out of the closet, Leila. This isn’t funny."

"Could I be touching your shoulder if I were in the closet?"

Her father went pale and sagged against her doorjamb. "Honey… would you come up here?"

Leila heard her mother coming up the stairs and swallowed.

"Leila," her father continued, "I got a message from the principal at your high school…he said you caused a disturbance in second period, and left school."

She nodded, though she knew he couldn’t see her. "I did."

"Because everyone thought you were a…but that’s silly."

"A mutant, dad. I am."

"Leila, don’t be ridiculous. You’re not…"

"Dad, I’m invisible. If you have any better ideas as to why this is happening, I’m all ears."

Her mother appeared at his side, face ashen and hands shaking. "Where’s Leila?"

"Right in front of me," her father groaned. As if on cue, Leila flickered back into visibility. Her mother screeched and jumped.

"Leila!!"

Leila tried to smirk. "Hi mom."

There was a profound silence for several seconds, which was only broken by Cary’s small "Uh-oh…"

* * *

"Open up Mackenzie! We know she’s in there!"

Leila listened quietly from the top of the stairs, watching as her father held the door shut, despite the fact that it was locked and dead-bolted. His face displayed his pained determination.

"Go home, Irving. Leave us alone."

"You’re harboring a mutant, Walter! It’s public knowledge!" a female voice called through the door. It was Mrs. Crowe, his elderly neighbor from down the street. She, Irving McGreggor, and several other inhabitants from the neighborhood had gathered in front of the Mackenzie house, some even camping out on the lawn. All were protesting the presence of the first mutant to rear her head in the county. Leila Mackenzie.

"If you all don’t get off of my property, I’ll have to call the police," Leila’s father snarled through the closed door. After several minutes, the grumbling protesters shuffled off his lawn, standing off the curb, all of them glaring at the house and muttering to each other. Mr. Mackenzie sighed and slumped against the door, rubbing his temples. Leila, standing invisible at the head of the stairs, swallowed the lump in her throat and turned back to her room. She wanted to be alone. Before she closed the door to her room, she faintly heard her father murmur, "What am I going to do?"

* * *

It was well past ten o’clock that night, and Leila could not sleep. She could hear her parents talking downstairs, but could not make out what they were saying. She felt in her gut that it was about her. Getting up when her power activated itself, she slipped out of her room and sat again at the head of the stairs, which was in easy hearing distance of the living room. She had eavesdropped on her parents many times before in the weeks that had passed since the incident at school. So far, she hadn’t liked the direction their conversations were taking.

"…and I just can’t take all the nasty phone calls and letters anymore, Walter!"

Leila’s heart twitched at her mother’s words. They were talking about her again.

"I’d rather have the nasty phone calls and letters than have half the neighborhood talking about us like we’re scum and picketing on our front lawn. They were trying to break down the door this afternoon!"

Leila sighed. She had heard enough, but continued to listen, though she didn’t really want to.

"We have to do something, Walter. I can’t live like this."

"I know Allison! I know. I’m already out of favor with my boss because I’m letting a mutant live under my roof. You’re right. We have to do something."

"Maybe we can contact the police and have them stop all this, or-"

"No. There’s nothing we can do about society. Everyone’s against mutants. Even the police. We can’t change that."

"So if we can’t do anything about society…" Leila’s mother began. Her father sighed and finished her statement.

"…then we’re going to have to do something about Leila."

That did it. Leila had no desire to hear any more. She got up and went back to her room, footsteps making no sound on the carpet.

‘Do something about Leila.’ She shivered at the words and looked out her window toward the front lawn below. There were still a few tents perched on their lawn, despite her father’s threats to call the police.

"The police wouldn’t do anything about it, really," she muttered to herself. "They don’t like mutants either."

‘Do something about Leila.’

She blinked back angry tears. They could not do anything about her, medically. That she knew. No mutant had ever ‘gone back’, so far as she knew, or they’d be flooding the hospitals, desperate for the treatment. There was only one thing that they could ‘do about her’. They could only get rid of her.

"My own parents don’t want me," she snarled, dragging her backpack out of her closet and emptying it of all school related items. She rolled up a blanket and stuffed it in the backpack, and added some candy bars she had in her desk.

"Knew those things would come in handy," she said to herself. "I’m out of here. I don’t need mom…"

She snatched every penny from her room and stuffed it in her backpack. "…I don’t need dad…I don’t even need…"

She stopped and looked up. Cary. The only person that wasn’t fazed by all this. She felt guilty suddenly. She couldn’t leave Cary. Could she?

The words hit her again, stinging like a slap in the face. ‘Do something about Leila’. She almost gagged, as if the thought were a foul taste in her mouth. Then she sighed. She owed Cary a goodbye, if nothing else.

Stuffing everything she would need into her backpack, she sneaked down the hallway to Cary’s room and slipped inside. She kneeled by Cary’s bed and shook her awake.

"Cary. Cary wake up. It’s Leila."

Cary roused from her sleep with a big yawn. "Mmm?"

Leila half smiled. "Cary, listen to me. I’m going to go away for a while. You can’t tell mom or dad. Okay?"

The girl nodded sleepily. "Okay. Will you be back soon?"

Leila chewed her lip. "I don’t know when I’ll be back. Here. Give me a hug, kiddo."

Cary complied, barely able to keep her eyes open. Leila ruffled her hair and bid the girl goodnight again before slipping from her room. She tiptoed downstairs and out the back door to avoid the ‘protestors’ on the front lawn. Hopping the back fence and crossing the street, she threw a last look back at her house, turned, and walked away.

* * *

"Life isn’t fair," she thought as she half-ran half-tiptoed down the darkened street. She did not have the temperament to be one of the oddballs. One of the outcasts. She couldn’t be a mutant. It was all wrong. So wrong, it had driven her from her home.

She stopped on the street corner, casting a last glance back at her house. She might never return, she thought. Not unless she could get rid of this… mutant-ness. Even then, it was possible that no one would trust her. Her reputation, indeed her very image, had been tarnished by the sudden revelation by her neighborhood that she was an outsider. A mutant.

She did not know where she was going, but she had to keep moving. She had to go someplace where they wouldn’t recognize her. As long as they didn’t post her face on the news, she’d be fine.

After an hour, she stopped to rest in a park. The place was kind of spooky after nightfall. Glancing around, she pulled a blanket from the backpack she carried and set it on the ground. Rolling up in it, hoping that the bushes and low trees would shield her from view until morning…just in case…she drifted slowly and fitfully to sleep.

* * *

Dawn came, and she awoke with a light dusting of dew covering her skin. Her stomach grumbled argumentatively. Sighing, she pulled a candy bar from her backpack and munched on it. Meanwhile, she looked around. It was a greyish, overcast day. Perhaps threatening to rain. She smirked and packed up her blanket, and looked herself over. She was visible, at least. It would certainly look strange if she had been invisible, walking around with her backpack. She imagined someone seeing a backpack floating down the street by itself. She almost laughed. Remembering her situation, however, she sighed and picked up her backpack, and started again. She had to get far away. Very far away. She wasn’t sure how far. She’d know, she supposed, when she got there.

She traveled for several days, braving the uncomfortably cool nights and risking recognition in the day. She ate little, and her energy and her stomach both constantly reminded her.

She couldn’t stand it any longer one day, and slipped into a convenience store about a week after she had set out, deciding to use part of her precious money reserve to buy food. She had eaten everything she had brought with her. She could wait no longer.

Standing in the drink section, she looked over at a tall man several feet away. He seemed to be glancing at her now and then. She tried not to think of all the reasons why he might be. Did he recognize her? She shivered. She hoped not. She’d just get a pint of milk and some bread and go.

She grabbed the milk from the freezer, then noticed the man standing at her side. Her heart began to beat faster, but she maintained her calm and tried to ignore him.

"Are you that runaway on the news?" he asked quietly.

She did not look at him. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

He half-smiled. "A teenage girl who looks something like you left the suburbs around Scranton, Pennsylvania, about a week ago. The news says she was a mutant."

She did not answer, but swallowed. She was certain he had heard her gulp.

"Are you that kid?"

She looked up at him. His brown eyes and shock of blond hair made him seem friendly enough.

"If I were, you wouldn’t tell, would you?"

He smirked and lowered his voice even more. "Call me crazy, but when I saw you flicker and disappear for a moment, I figured you might be a mutant."

She was terrified now. He knew. He would tell!

He seemed to read her thoughts and smiled. "Don’t worry. I won’t tell on you. I don’t blame you for leaving. I know the kind of trouble they’re probably giving you."

She swallowed again.

"Do you know how to get to the Mutant Assistance Agency?"

She stared at him. "The what?"

"There’s a place in New York that runs a training facility and shelter for mutants."

"How can I get there?" she asked. She forgot her fear. This man was trying to help her. He might be her only chance.

"It’s not too far from here, but it would be worth it for you. They teach you how to control your power… I’m assuming yours is invisibility… and give you a place to stay."

She looked downcast. "I don’t have the money for a bus ride. And I don’t even know where it is."

He reached for his back pocket. "Don’t sweat it, kid." He pulled out a piece of paper and a pen, and scribbled down an address. Her eyes widened.

"Get yourself to that agency," the man said, handing her the paper. "It’s not that far. You can’t stay on the streets."

She nodded. "Thanks…I don’t even know your name."

He shrugged. "Don’t worry about it. Just get yourself there."

"Thanks…" she breathed. She could hardly believe her good fortune. She had a destination.

* * *

"Is this the right address?" she asked herself. The evening breeze blew a wisp of her hair across her face, but she brushed the hair away. She glanced at the paper the man had given her, and then looked up again at the large, almost imposing, building before her. It was the correct address. She shrugged and shook her head, and jammed the paper in her jean pocket. Looking around, she slinked up the front steps toward the door. Halfway up the steps, she felt the familiar sensation, the small, almost indiscernible shiver that meant her power had taken over. She raised her hands to eye level and looked them over. She could not see them.

She sighed. "Rats. Invisible again. Man, I am not spending a night outside in New York, invisible or not. It can’t wait. I’ve got to talk to whoever runs this place, and it’s now or never." She set her jaw. "And it has to be now, because I can’t afford ‘never’."

* * *