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furrowing of the brow.
    “ What?” I ask, bewildered.
    “ Think about it. Think about what was happening to you when you vanished. You were in situations where you literally wanted to disappear, and so you did.”
    I fall backwards onto the bed beside her and stare up at the spackled ceiling. Something inside me nods in agreement. “You may be right,” I say and place Charlie’s idea high on my list of possible explanations.

 
    Chapter Six
     
    It’s Monday morning and despite the horror of the previous day, I’m in a fairly decent mood as I make my way downstairs to the kitchen. A low rumble of excitement stirs in my belly at the thought of my super power. For the first time in my life, I feel special, plus I’ve got one whopper of a secret.
    Our house is a reflection of my parents’ messed-up sense of style. It looks like it’s from another time and place; a mix of 70s hippie and 90s new age. The kitchen is mossy green with brown accents as if decorated with bits and pieces of Mother Earth herself.
    Wall-to-wall blue shag carpeting covers the floors of the living and dining rooms, and the chrome and glass furniture gives our house just the right hint of crazy. My parents aren’t hippies or new-agers; they’re just weird.
    Eva and Mom are chatting and Dad has left for work already. He’s always the first one out the door, needing only his jumbo coffee and a cigarette and he’s good to go.
    “ Morning,” I say, filling the kettle and putting it on a burner for my instant oatmeal. Mondays usually start with me on a diet, but by mid-week all good intentions are out the window.
    Eva raises a perfectly plucked brow and turns to me. “Why are you in such a good mood?”
    She’s two years older than me, and is in her final year of beauty school. Mom dropped out of the Revlon School of Cosmetology in her first year. She said it was to start working so she and Dad could get married, but I did the math and I think it was ’cause she was knocked up. Now Eva’s living Mom’s dream — all the free dye jobs, manicures and facials thrill Mom to no end.
    “ I don’t know,” I tell my sister. “It’s supposed to be a nice day. Summer’s almost here.”
    “ That reminds me,” says Mom, her ridiculous multi-colored hair piled high in a wobbly tower of curls. “We’ve got to go shopping for your graduation dress.”
    My shoulders deflate, along with my mood. The kettle whistles. I fix my breakfast and sit down at the table. “Can we talk about this later?” I ask, avoiding her gaze.
    Mom leans forward, resting her still made-up face in her hands. I suspect she either doesn’t remove her make-up at night, or she gets up earlier than everyone else and applies it again. In all my seventeen years, I’ve never seen her without a made-up face. She peers out from her mass of locks and regards me with steely determination.
    “ You’re not getting away with this one, Lola. You denied me the opportunity to help you get all pretty for the Prom and you’re not going to do the same thing with your graduation party.” She wags a finger at me.
    “ I don’t even want to go to graduation let alone the party. Pleaaassee Mom, don’t do this to me.”
    “ Do this to you ?” Her voice is shrill. “You’re the one robbing me of a special moment between a mother and daughter. I’m looking forward to seeing you in a pretty dress, with a little make-up on for a change. And that hair, God, we’ve got to do something with that hair.” She turns to my sister. “What do you think, Hon? An upsweep or something a little wilder?” The way she says “wilder” scares me a little.
    I cringe. If only my dim-witted sister hadn’t dropped out of high school in her senior year. Then maybe Mom would have been content with her Prom or grad party. I’m certain Eva would have loved all the attention and being made-up like a ten dollar prostitute.
    Eva opens her mouth to speak, but I cut her off. “I’ll go to grad, but not the