The Invisible Boy by Alyssa Hollingsworth

Author:Alyssa Hollingsworth
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Roaring Brook Press

Chapter 13

HOW (NOT) TO GO VIRAL

By Sunday, I’m still thinking about that look. About the way Eli never leaves his yard, unless it’s to rescue Wonder Dog or me. About how he is weirdly invisible, for someone who doesn’t have superpowers.

If he isn’t an actual superhero, all the strange things about him get even stranger.

I flip through some of my favorite Superman comics, reading everything I can about Clark Kent. Was he ever scared? So far, I mostly notice him being worried for other people (especially Lois Lane). Sometimes he seems overwhelmed or uncertain. But never outright afraid.

Was Eli afraid when I left him at the gate on Friday afternoon? I don’t know. I can’t tell. But something has shifted in me. Something doesn’t feel right.

There’s a knock on my bedroom door, and Mom looks in. She is wearing makeup and has her hair fixed into its extra-curly style. “Hey, Dia, I’m about to do my big announcement. Do you want to be in the video?”

“Um…” Pretty much the last thing I want is to be a prop in Mom’s live reveal of her new podcast studio. But Mom grins at me and fidgets with her phone and almost bounces. She’s so excited that I shrug and get to my feet. “Okay, I guess.”

“Perfect!” Mom jumps over to my dresser and pulls out a long purple tunic-y shirt and leggings covered in yellow flowers. “Want to change into this? And maybe we could run a brush through your hair?”

I sigh but go through the motions of getting ready. It’s almost five, so I think Mom’s planning a pre-dinner livestream. She flits around adjusting things—making sure my hair isn’t tucked behind my ears, picking up one of Wonder’s dog toys from the hallway, checking the lighting on her phone over and over. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Mom this nervous about a livestream.

Dad comes out of their bedroom, dressed in a polo shirt and his camera-ready dark wash jeans instead of the washed-out, oil-splattered frayed shorts he usually wears on his days off.

I smile. “You got recruited, too?”

He laughs, a little loudly. Almost like he’s nervous, too. “Well, technically I had a part in the surprise.”

“Okay, everyone get set. Go stand by the door.” Mom points us toward the ex–guest room and herds Wonder Dog downstairs.

Dad and I exchange a shrug and move to that end of the hallway. He has his right hand closed and his thumb taps against his finger.

Mom comes back. “You both ready?”

I tug on my hair. It feels weird without the normal two braids. “Sure.”

“Yep,” Dad replies, shifting his weight.

“Remember to face the camera,” she says. “Nadia, I’ll lead you in, with me walking backward, yeah? I want your reaction to be the focus—the moment when you see it for the first time. Then I’ll pan around and show everyone. And Richard, you follow and then stand to the side so I can get your reaction last.”

A kid’s reaction to a podcast studio seems a bit odd to me, but my mom’s done weirder stuff.

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