Marilyn Kaye - Out of Sight, Out of Mind

Amanda shook her head. "That was the next thing I was going to tell Tracey's parents to give me."

"Well, I don't have one." Jenna regarded the passing stream of students and stopped. "You've got one, don't you?"

"I just told you-"

"I mean, the real you."

Amanda looked practically offended by the question. "Of course I do. Everyone who's anyone has a phone."

Ignoring the insult, Jenna dashed down the hall and cornered Other-Amanda, who was standing at her locker with a couple of her snotty friends. "I need to use your phone," Jenna declared.

"What?"

Jenna repeated her demand.

"Are you serious'? Do you actually think that I would lend you my phone?" The two girls beside her looked horrified, as if Jenna were in the process of holding them up with a weapon. Which gave Jenna an idea.

She moved in closer to Other-Amanda. "Give me your phone," she hissed, "or I'll have my crew take care of you."

One of the girls clutched Other-Amanda's arm. "You'd better do it. She knows really bad people."

But this Amanda was just as tough as the Amanda that Jenna knew. "Forget it," she snapped.

Fortunately, her friends weren't quite so gutsy. "Here, you can use mine," one said, and she thrust it into Jenna's hand.

Jenna dialed the number for directory information. There were five Sanderses in the town, and Jenna told the operator to try the first one. There was no answer. No one answered the second one either, but on the second try she got someone.

"Hello?"

"Can I speak to Emily, please?"

"Emily's at school! Who is this?"

"Uh, wrong number." She tossed the phone to its owner and ran back to Amanda-Tracey.

"She's not at home, and I should have guessed that. She has to be nearby for me to be getting a message from her."

"You think she's somewhere in this building?"

The images of Emily and Serena were coming faster and faster, and they were dark. "Yeah. Let's start in the basement."

The bell rang to signal the beginning of the next class. The two girls were heading for the stairs when a hall monitor appeared from around the corner and blocked their way.

"Where are your hall passes?"

Jenna had no patience for this nonsense. "Get out of our way."

The boy grabbed her arm with his right hand and Amanda's arm with his left. "Okay, you're both going to the office."

Jenna struggled to free herself, but he was a big kid and was strong. She turned to Amanda. "Do something!"

Amanda got the message. In less than a second, the hall monitor was holding nothing in his left hand. "What the heck-?"

Jenna had hoped the shock of Amanda's disappearance would cause him to loosen his grip on her arm, too, but he only tightened it. She barely felt it, though, because now her head was actually hurting. Emily was trying very hard to reach her, and she knew something had to be terribly wrong.

But Jenna didn't have Martin's strength, or Charles's ability to move things, or Tracey's gift for becoming invisible. She wasn't Sarah-she couldn't force the guy to release her. All she had was the feeling that Emily needed help.

She'd have to count on Amanda to help her. Or Tracey Or whoever was inside that invisible body.

AMANDA HAD NEVER BEEN in that part of the lower level of the school. As far as she knew, it was nothing but storage

rooms and plumbing and stuff like that. And she vaguely recalled signs directing a media club to meet down there, but only nerds belonged to clubs like that, so she wasn't sure.

One thing was clear-it was dark. And invisibility didn't seem to give her any special viewing powers. She edged alongside a wall, trying to feel her way.

Luckily, she had no problem with her hearing. From down the hall, she picked up a faint whisper. As she moved closer, the voice became recognizable.

"You must do this, Emily. Keep your eyes on the red dot and listen to me. Think deeper… deeper."

It was the student teacher. And even though Amanda had never had a session with Serena, she could guess that she was hypnotizing Emily. But why down here?

"The numbers are there, Emily. You can see them. Tell me the numbers."

What she said didn't make any sense, but something about the tone made Amanda shiver.

"Listen to me, Emily. Can you hear me? Answer me, Emily."

And then she heard Emily's voice, flat and expressionless. "I can hear you."

"Tell me the numbers!" There was more urgency in Serena's voice now. And it led Amanda right to the door.

They were in there-she knew that. What she didn't know was how she was going to get in there with them. In all her invisible experiences so far, doors had been open. Maybe she had the ability to pass through walls.

She pressed herself against the door. Her body didn't go through it, but it turned out that the door wasn't even completely closed. The next thing she knew, she had fallen on the floor of the room.

"Who's there?" Serena asked sharply.

Still on the floor, Amanda looked up. It was a storage room, with stacks of chairs. Her eyes had become accustomed to the dark by now, and she saw Emily sitting in one of them. Amanda knew she was still invisible, because Serena wasn't looking down at her but at the open door.

Serena moved to the door to shut it, and her foot touched Amanda's head in the process. "Darn!" Serena muttered, and she kicked the obstruction out of her way.

In her last conscious thought, Amanda learned something else about her condition. When you're invisible, you still hurt.

"Amanda?"

The voice seemed to be coming from very far away. Amanda strained to hear it. At least her head had stopped hurting.

"Amanda!"

The voice was sharp now. Amanda forced her eyes open. She was looking at Mr. Jones, her history teacher.

"Amanda, I asked you a question. What were the three main causes of the American Civil War?"

She'd read that chapter-she knew she had-but her brain wouldn't cooperate.

"Taxation without representation?"

Mr. Jones looked at her in exasperation. "That was the Revolutionary War, Amanda. Someone else? Britney?"

Amanda didn't hear Britney's response. She was gradually absorbing her circumstances.

Tracey had Ms. Galvin for history. Mr. Jones… He was her history teacher. Amanda's history teacher. And that was what he'd just called her. Amanda.

She looked at her right hand. There it was-the tiny sapphire birthstone ring that her parents had given her on her last birthday. And her Swatch watch was on her wrist. And the nails on her fingers weren't chewed down-they were rosy pink and manicured. She stared at them for what seemed like a long time.

"Amanda?" Mr. Jones was speaking to her again.

"Yes?" she asked faintly, looking up at him.

Now he looked more concerned than annoyed. "Are you feeling all right?"

"Yes…" She was remembering. Emily sitting on a chair. Serena. Something about numbers. "No! I don't feel very well. I'd better go see the school nurse."

Mr. Jones tore a hall pass off the pad on his desk, and Amanda snatched it from him on her race out of the classroom. Behind her, she could hear the class buzzing. They probably thought she was about to throw up. For once, Amanda didn't care what anyone thought about her.

She ran up the stairs, flapping the slip of paper at a passing hall monitor. Then she tore down the hall and burst into the gifted classroom.

Madame was alone in the room, pacing. When she heard Amanda come in, she whirled around with an expectant look on her face. When she saw Amanda, she seemed disappointed. "Yes? Can I help you?"

"Emily's in trouble! You have to come with me!"

The teacher gasped. "Who are you?"