Out of Sight, Out of Mind

future weren't always clear. For Tracey, disappearing probably just happened-she couldn't just snap her fingers and disappear.

So Amanda went back to Tracey's house and spent another yucky Tracey-style evening. At dinner, she pushed the food around her plate while each of the Devon Seven were asked about their day and the parents exclaimed how adorable they were. No one noticed that Tracey wasn't even eating.

After dinner, she went to Tracey's room, where she did some homework and read a book that she'd brought home from the school library. And then she remembered Tracey's diary. Maybe Tracey had gone on some interesting adventures while she was invisible.

Amanda retrieved the notebook and opened it at random.

'Dear Diary, Everybody thinks the Devon Seven are so cute. I'm not cute.'

That was certainly true, Amanda thought. She turned a few more pages.

'Dear Diary, My little sisters turned three today. They're getting bigger. I feel as if I'm getting smaller.'

Now that sounded interesting, Amanda thought. Was this when she started disappearing? She turned a page.

'Dear Diary, Mom and Dad don't look at me anymore. They see only the Seven. I might as well be invisible.'

So it definitely was the septuplets that Tracey had written about when she wrote 'Sometimes I hate them.' Amanda couldn't blame her. They took all the attention away from Tracey. But now Tracey was about to become invisible, which should make up for it all.

Eagerly, Amanda turned to the next page.

'Dear Diary, Sometimes I think I'd like to get a haircut. And some new clothes. But what's the point? Nobody would notice. Nobody sees me now. I'm nothing.'

Amanda was infuriated. Without even bothering to shut the notebook, she tossed it across the room. So Tracey felt sorry for herself. In all fairness, Amanda knew she was probably entitled to a little self-pity. But Amanda certainly didn't want to have to read about it.

At least Tracey was starting to make sense. From the photos she'd seen, Amanda knew Tracey must have been the center of her parents' life when she was born, as most babies were. But once the seven girls were born, she grew less and less important in her parents' eyes. She must have felt that. And if you felt like nothing at home, you'd feel like nothing at school, too. It wasn't just shyness that made Tracey disappear- Tracey faded away from lack of attention. And all because of those wretched little septuplets.

Later, lying in Tracey's bed, Amanda thought about her own home, her own parents. Being an only child, she always complained that her mother and father made too much of a fuss over her, watched her too closely, and wanted to know everything about her. She was a star at home, which was nice, but it could also get a little tiresome-there was such a thing as too much attention. Surely there had to be a happy medium between what she had and what Tracey had.

The next day, Friday, started off as a typical Tracey day. The bus doors closed in her face and she had to walk to school. That made her late arriving at homeroom for roll call, but no one even noticed.

In Tracey's English class they were reading Romeo and Juliet, and Amanda had something she wanted to say, about how Romeo should have felt for Juliet's pulse and then he'd know she wasn't really dead and he wouldn't kill himself and she wouldn't kill herself and they could live happily ever after. But no matter how many times she raised her hand, the teacher didn't call on her, not even when she flapped her arm wildly in the air.

It was at lunchtime that she realized what was going on. She was looking for a place to sit, an empty table. As she looked around the crowded, noisy cafeteria, she realized that she had accidentally paused right next to her own special table where Britney and Sophie and her other self were gathered. She was close enough to touch, but nobody insulted her, not even Amanda herself. That was when she knew she had become invisible.

She hurried out of the cafeteria to go to the restroom and confirm this in a mirror. How strange it felt, to be looking at yourself and seeing nothing. And how long would it last?

She left the restroom and ambled down the corridor. It was kind of cool, to stroll right in front of a hall monitor and not be asked to show a pass. She could walk right out of the building and no one would stop her. But where could she go? In a way, it was too bad that she wasn't a gangster like Jenna. She could do a lot of shoplifting in this condition.

She decided to stop at the library and pick out some books. But on the way there, she passed the principal's office. The door was slightly ajar, and she heard Madame talking to Mr. Jackson. She sounded upset, and Amanda paused to listen.

'I don't like this arrangement at all, Mr. Jackson. We have discussions of a highly personal nature in that class. My students will not be comfortable talking in front of a total stranger.'

'Serena won't be a stranger for long,' the principal countered. 'And they'll learn to be comfortable with her. To be perfectly honest, Madame, I'm not comfortable with the way you conduct that class. I realize your students are, uh, unusual, but that doesn't mean they shouldn't have the usual classroom experiences.'

Madame's voice rose a notch. 'But surely you can understand that their special circumstances require an element of privacy!'

'What exactly makes them so special, Madame?'

There was a moment of silence. Amanda wished she could see Madame's expression.

'You know I'm not at liberty to discuss the details of these children,' she said finally.

Mr. Jackson made a grunting noise. 'All I know is that two years ago you showed up here with a letter from the superintendent of schools, a mandate authorizing you to start a special class, with very little information as to what kind of special students would be invited to join the class. Obviously your students are not particularly brilliant, nor are they mentally challenged. All I can see is the fact that they have problems.'

'Gifts.'

'Yes, I know that's what you call them. Others might call them delusions. All I know is that someone believes these kids have-' he paused, as if he was searching for the right words '-unusual capabilities. Strange powers or something. Mind reading, fortunetelling. Am I correct?'

Amanda couldn't hear Madame's response. Maybe she didn't respond at all, because the next sound Amanda heard was the principal's long sigh.

'And I know that you are not required to share all the information with me. But whatever bizarre gifts these kids have, I think you're becoming overprotective of them, Madame. Perhaps a little… possessive?'

Madame replied to this. 'I have to be possessive. They need to be protected.'

'But protected from whom? From other students? From teachers? From me? Surely you're not suggesting that they're in danger here at Meadowbrook?'

'Danger can come in many forms, Mr. Jackson. My job is to prepare these students to defend themselves.' Her voice rose again. 'No, it's more than a job-it's a mission. I'm trying to teach these children how to cope. And you have no authority over me!'

'If you're going to yell, Madame, please shut the door.' Madame obeyed quickly, and Amanda didn't have enough time to slip inside before the door closed. Too bad, because this was getting interesting. Madame certainly took her job seriously. And Amanda still wasn't completely sure what that job was.

She forgot about the library and roamed the halls looking for something else of interest to listen to or observe unnoticed. When she saw Katie and Britney with hall passes, she followed them to the restroom. At least she could catch up on the latest gossip.

She watched longingly as her two friends went through the ritual that they always performed after lunch. They emptied their makeup bags into sinks and then scrutinized their faces in the mirrors to see what elements were in need of repair. And, of course, they gossiped.

But it was a shock to hear what they were talking about today. 'Amanda is really getting on my nerves lately,' Britney said.

Amanda was stunned. Britney turned and looked around the restroom. 'Is anyone in here?'

Katie moved over to the stalls and looked under the doors. 'No one's here.'

'I just had a feeling someone was listening to us.' Britney resumed the conversation. 'Amanda just thinks