My superpower is invisibility. Not by choice. It's the only way I know how to be.
Until the cute guy on the bus shows me how to fly, but there's a catch.
And it has nothing to do with me being the one who can see him.
But sometimes falling feels...
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I have a superpower. I'm invisible.
So invisible that I often forget myself. Like I'm a speck of dust, only visible when the light hits it a certain way. But when there's no light in the distance, I just fade away without anyone noticing. I compare myself to dust all the time and wonder where I'll eventually end up.
Do I just dissolve in the air and there're pieces of me everywhere? On everything?
Then, on one of the worst days of my life, I learned to find peace with the sun. Billions of people see the bright rays that light up the sky and stand under the scorching star. They study it, try to stare at it without sunglasses, and even still, it shines on its own.
Kind of like me, but my time isn't now. I've learned to accept that, and once I'm in college, I can start over, and prove I'm just as visible as the sun. I'm a lot more than floating dust.
Just one more year, I say to myself.
"Randi! If you miss the bus, you'll be walking to school," my mom yells up the steps. "I mean it this time."
Apparently, I'm not that invisible when I'm almost late for school.
Unlike my sisters, I take twenty minutes to get dressed. I don't have to do much. My long brown hair is still wavy from last night's braids, and instead of my usual ponytail, I let it dangle down my back. Denim overalls are my go-to with a vintage graphic tee and chucks. With ten minutes to spare, I slide my camera strap over my head, grab my bag, and race down the steps.
Voices and laughter trail up the staircase. So full of life so early in the morning. Breakfast hits me next, and my stomach growls instantly. Waffles motivated me to get out of bed, as crazy as it sounds. My mom promised me after I passed my Calc exam. It's the only thing I ask for since waffles are a thing of the past since my dad died. He'd always make them for me every time I had good news, and never forgot. Not once.
"Nice of you to join us," my mom says once she sees me. There's a hint of sarcasm in her voice as the brown eyes we share pierce through mine. "You have... seven minutes. And I have a client meeting this morning, so I can't drive you this time."
My mom is an attorney, and she's hardly ever home. It's gotten worse since my dad's sudden death. Most mornings she makes breakfast, but she's so far withdrawn, and acts like she knows what's going on. She tries, but she pushes me away like everyone else.
I drop my bag and sit next to her. Amara and Avery are across from us, and the room falls silent. The awkwardness doesn't go unnoticed. It's all on their faces, even if they try to cover it. Like I'm not worthy of talking about life, fashion, or even Taylor Swift's newest break up. Even though those things don't appeal to me.
My leg bounces profusely, and I force myself to stop. I'm not usually the conversation starter and will just sit there because everyone else drowns me out with whatever they have going on.
