„Don’t pull this shit on me. I know exactly where you’ve been last night,” she screamed and threw her mug at him. “You think how clever you are, but all this. This must stop. Do you hear me? Stop.”

       “I can’t. I can’t help it. I have to do it.” He was sitting on the kitchen chair, hardwood of its backrest making a constant reminder of his bruise on his left shoulder blade. “And it’s not like you could tell me what I should do. I don’t have to listen to you.”

       She defeated a bit and leaned against the counter. “You are just like your father. So stupidly stubborn.” She took a steady breath. “It’s just the two of us now and I’m… I’m just scared to be alone. Don’t you understand?”

       He stood up and put his hands on her shoulders. “You will never be alone. I will be here no matter what. Plus, you’ve got Mitzi now. Things are good.”

       She looked at him very doubtfully. “For how long, Fritz? How can you make promises you cannot be sure to keep?”

       “It’s called reassuring. I’m just being a kind brother who takes care of his sister emotional wellbeing.”

       “You are a prat,” she said and pushed the corner of her mouth back down. “I hope you will lose your leg so I could push you in a wheelchair for the rest of our lives.”

       “And who is being prat now, hmm?”

       He turned around and took his phone from the table. “I need to go to school. I’ll see you later.”

 

       Superheroes always talk about the greater good. About the mission. About the life goals and commitment to the society. He never felt the same need. And he had oh so many needs. Greater good just wasn’t one of them. He might well be a supervillain then.

       He chose the longer way to school, spending almost all his time in the middle of the forest before he swished to the campus. He hated buildings and spending so much time in the city was taking its toll.

       The only reason he was still doing it was the girl in tights and sun-top bodice that kept reappearing when the gang on the Arcade Street was onto something. She was gorgeous. He hair was flying everywhere in precise waves like a hair of a mermaid. She was ethereal. And he was sure she didn’t even notice him.

       It wasn’t like everyone would have a super power. It just happened that in their generation it was almost like the ability to write a blog. Like everyone was doing it. Just not everyone everyone. And not everyone was necessarily good at it.

       When the Arcadian gang showed up, there were usually seven of them, seven superheroes. It was the guy who called himself Highfist and the only thing he could do was prolong his arm and punch somebody. Then there was the Little Raid, whose gender was unidentifiable and who could run like Asterix on the super potion. The twins: Stiff and Limp. Hard as a rock and pliant as a foam. The weirdest was the kid called Nutella. I don’t know. He could just spray brown slime. And then there was the girl in sun-top bodice whose super-nickname was Mira and she was like the coolest of them all. She could lift objects with her mind only. And Fritz was sure they called her Mira as a short for Miracle.

       They didn’t call him anything. Sometimes he thought they didn’t even know he was there at all. That was probably the point. Being invisible and all, but he was teen. And all what teens really want to be is acknowledged. It was hard. Though most days he wasn’t complaining, it would be nice to have a name at least.

       He was Fritz and that’s it. He was seventeen and German and dark-skinned and well built. He was invisible and fast and feathering away. He was orphan he was single. He was a lot of things, but most times he just wasn’t. He vanished, walked through the trunks of pines and spruces like he wouldn’t be at all. And the only thing that remained was his self. With his mind and heart and soul.

       And then there were buildings. Rooftops and traffic and fights. People in masks more than without them. In the homemade capes with stiff collars reminding him of Dracula and other vampires. In tiger tights and blue-green leotards. The rush the heat the everything and nothing.

       His home was so quiet afterward. It was like putting your head under water. It was pure bliss.

 

       His first class was business and his usual seat was taken. Not that it would be an anomaly. It happened just enough times to let him wonder whether he could still call it his seat. He took one in the front that remained empty on a regular basis and pulled out his books.

       He quite liked this class. Not like many others, it felt useful. Even the teacher was all right. They’ve got through the first half of the lesson when it started raining outside and Fritz turned his head to watch. He loved rain and the class was quiet enough during their assigned exercise to hear the droplets hitting the window.

       The ticklish feeling in his fingers told him he started to vanish and quickly turned his gaze back to his textbook. There was a poking on his left shoulder and he cursed under his breath. It wasn’t rare when people get discovered for their superpowers, but it was a shame nevertheless. To be a superhero, you need to be anonymous. It was just embarrassing, fighting against the villains who know you are attending high school and your grades are not that good.

       He slowly turned to face one of his classmates, who kept poking his biro into his shirt, leaving smudges of graphite. His eyebrows lifted, silently asked: “What the hell?”

       “This is so cool! I saw it mate and I wanted to ask. Are you one of the guys fighting the robbers of Parisian Jewelry?” Fritz made a confused face and turned his head just in time for the teacher’s admonishment.

       He kept silent, thinking no answer is still a pretty good answer when the poking started again. This time, he chose to ignore it.

       “I’m just asking because they might have some help from an Invisible Man, so is that you?”

       Yeah…

       The thing about invisible men? They are rather hard to distinguish.

       “Mister Stoker, be so kind and leave Mister Bauer alone. I think you still have a lot to do.”

       “My apologies,” his classmate purred and pulled away from Fritz’s back.

 

       He was lucky enough to disappear just after the bell rang, getting lost in the mass of students, but that didn’t prevent him from panicking. He liked to panic sometimes. Kept things interesting.

       There were bodies leaning over his locker. Sticking together in the intimate parts of their mouths and he sighed. He could just put his hand right through them, feel the book he needed inside his locker and pull it out. He could do it. He very much wouldn’t. There were laws against using superpowers on the premises, not to mention his anonymity would be destroyed. Also, he didn’t fancy sticking his hand into someone else’s intestines. Thank you very much.

       “Ehrm, excuse me,” he tapped the girl’s arm and waited for some kind of acknowledgment. She turned around and looked him up and down. “This is my locker,” he pointed.

       She smiled and shrugged helplessly, but moved her girlfriend away.

       He started to feel it in the toes of his feet. The prevision of a bad day building inside. He pushed his fringe away and pulled out his books.

       “Hello, Fritz,” he heard behind himself and turned.

       “Miranda,” he greeted his friend and put his backpack on his shoulder. “How was your evening yesterday? Have you managed to finish that assignment for Miss Hutcheson?”

       She rolled her eyes. “No, you stupid tramp. Of course, I didn’t.”

       He eyed her suspiciously. “Why? You’ve said you were just on it when you were leaving the bistro.”

       “I know. I said a lot of things yesterday. Neither I am going to buy you whatever you want for Christmas. I’ve said that, because you are insufferable, not because I would have actually meant that.”

       He frowned and they headed to French class together. “So when you’ve said you are on it… that was just to make me do it too, so you could copy it, correct?”

       She sighed, the theatrical prick she was. “You know me too well.”

       “Yeah… lucky me.” He tried not to sound too bitter and pushed his fringe back up his forehead.

       “So…” she started. “Will you?... let me copy it?” she added when he tried to play confused.

       Now he sighed, the exasperated loser he was. “I guess.”

       “You. Are. The best.” She cast her widest smile and punched his shoulder.

       “Yeah… I know. In Chemistry.”

 

       “You’ve got two bowls of ice cream for lunch. That can’t be healthy,” Miranda said thoughtfully, nibbling on the end of a carrot.

       “Well, you know. That’s how you cooperate with being an orphan and having a bad day. You eat what you want.”

       “That’s a lot of nonsense,” she said, but he knew her well enough to understand that she meant to say something like: “I hear you, I am here for you, you can totally eat what you want.”

       He just nodded and continued to frost his tongue to the death.

       “So… what’s the bad day for?“ she asked.

       He shrugged and pulled one of his sleeves over his palm. “The usual.”

       “The existential crisis?”

       “Yep.”

       “Well, good for you, mate. At least you have something to mope about.”

       That made him smile.

       Then someone dropped on the bench beside him. “There you are Frank, listen, I wanted to talk to you about earlier.”

       Fritz quickly turned around and faced the other business class student. “It’s Fritz. And I’m warning you. Shut. Up.”

       “What are you talking about? This is awesome!”

       He wondered if the guy had any sort of comprehension of the unwritten rules at all.

       “Listen,” Fritz tried again, but when he saw him opening his mouth, he plastered his hand against it and flashed one of his extremely feigned smile on Miranda. “We will just talk somewhere else.”

       She nodded, almost bored and chirped: “Okay.”

       He pulled the guy out of the cafeteria and around the corner of the building.

       Now, outside, he wasn’t sure what to say to him. “Listen, ehm…”

       “Alec,” said the boy, shifting his weight.

       “Right, Alec. You can’t just out people like that?”

       “Why? Is it a big secret?”

       Fritz hunched his shoulders a bit in disbelieve. “Uhm… Pretty much, yeah.”

       Alec seemed a bit distressed about it. “Oh,” his eyes defeated as he bit his lip. “I’m sorry. I won’t tell anyone, I swear.” Then he perked up and bit his lip for entirely different reason. “So… How do you do it? Can you teach me?”

       Fritz couldn’t stop staring. Because somewhere behind the excited face of freckles and occasional pimples just had to be the joke. He just needed to look more carefully. 

       He shifted his weight again.

       “It’s just… I’ve always believed there is magic somewhere and I know I need to learn because my life feels so empty without it. You must understand. What would you be, if you couldn’t use magic?” He looked so sincere and excited and well… almost high.

       …But his words got somewhere under Fritz’s skin and it got him thinking. What would he be? Well, normal, for one. Content. Happy? He couldn’t really tell, but he surely wouldn’t have these habits of losing himself. He wouldn’t have these crises of identity and existence.

       “Fritz?”

       “What?”

       “So, what do you think? Will you teach me? Please! It would mean a lot.”

       Fritz sighed. “It’s not something to be taught. Its power, like other superheroes have. You can’t do it if you don’t have it.”

       “I don’t understand. I’m sure I can, please, just let me try it.”

       “It doesn’t work like that. It’s like… like when you don’t get your letter you can’t be a magician. Besides, this is not really magic.”

       “What are you talking about?”

       “Harry Potter? You can’t be taught magic if you are a No-Maj.”

       “You mean a Muggle?” Alec looked mildly concerned.

       “We are in America, dude, wake up.”

       Alec rolled his eyes. “So you’re saying you won’t help me?”

       Fritz shook his head. “No, I’m saying I can’t help you.”

       After saying so, Alec’s face turned completely disappointed and his arms wrapped around his torso.

       Fritz sighed heavily and put his hand on Alec’s shoulder. “Listen, there is something I can do, but it would be just now and here and only once, okay?”

       Alec’s interest was back and he quickly nodded.

       And so Fritz squeezed his shoulder and after checking the grounds he let them disappear.

 

       It is always better to share. And it is not for the altruism, it is totally for all the selfish reasons. It is simply better. Cooking for someone else, watching movies, concerts, sharing knowledge and your own opinions. Moments. Memories. Fun.

       When Fritz showed Alec what it’s like to be invisible, there was the feeling in his stomach. The same feeling when he shared a joke with his sister. When he discussed his views on art with Miranda in an art gallery. When he started talking with the lady selling peanut butter cookies in the movie theater and realizing she knew his mother.

       It was about making a connection.

       “Is there something you would like to do?” Fritz asked.

       “Could we sneak into the girls changing rooms?”

       Fritz debated with himself if he should punch the guy or laugh at him.

       “Good one. Now you have one more go, then I’m leaving.”

       “Okay, okay… but, I don’t know. Could we just hang around people, so nobody would notice me? That would be perfect.”

       Fritz honestly didn’t know what to say to him. He wasn’t overly bitter over the fact that people usually didn’t notice him at all, it was just the situation.

       “Sure,” he said after a moment. “We could do that.”

       They managed to get back into the locker hallway when the bell started to ring. They had five minutes now. Fritz pushed Alec into the corner to the recycle bins and kept his hands on his shoulders.

       “This is incredible,” Alec whispered. “It’s like we are watching through security cameras. Just so much better.”

       “Do you have stalking problems or something?”

       Alec snorted and Fritz grinned. Connection.

 

       There she was. Beautiful. That hair, legs, the movements. Oh God. ‘There is probably a good reason for me being invisible,' Fritz thought. 'I don’t need to worry about the blood in inappropriate places.’ And of course, he meant his blushes, because he blushes so easily.

       “Watch out, Highfist! Right behind you!” screamed Limp and melted to the pavement to balk another shot.

       Today, they had guns. Silver and black, heavy and real. They had them for about the next ten seconds before Mira concentrated enough to take all of them and pointed them towards the criminals. It looked so much like the X-Men movies and Fritz had to grin like a fool because of it.

       “You are under arrest,” she said gravely with a hint of mirth.

       “You are aware that you are not competent to say that, right?” Stiff complained and she scolded him.

       “Oh, aren’t you clever,” she rolled her eyes and Fritz really shouldn’t find her sarcasm that endearing. “Next time, you can be the one to do all the hard work.”

       “Well, that’s a bit harsh,” Highfist said and pulled the handcuffs out of his satchel. “First you said you didn’t want us to treat you like a lady, now you want us to do all the work.”

       “Yeah, you are really confusing,” Nutella agreed.

       Mira sighed and murmured under her lips so that only Fritz could hear her. “There’s too much of the testosterone misunderstanding.”

       Fritz chuckled and her head snapped to him. Her eyes roamed around the place where his head should possibly be if he wouldn’t be one foot taller. Her eyes narrowed and the right corner of her lips quivered. “Not funny.”

       He stayed silent, basking in her attention. Connection.

       They tied them all together with ropes and handcuffs and Stiff called 911.

       “Well, our job is done here, see you tomorrow,” Little Raid said and disappeared in the cloud of dust.

       Stiff pulled out his phone out once again to call themselves a cab. “Nutella, you wanna give a ride?”

       “Nah, I’m not that far.” The kid said, amusing himself with greasing the villains’ head.

       “Mira? Highfist?”

       Mira shook her head. “No, I think I should wait until the police shows up, but go ahead, Highfist, I don’t need your backup.”

       “You sure?” Highfist stepped a little closer to her, changing his posture into something slightly flirtatious.

       “Oh God,” she sighed. “Here we go.”

       “Because I wouldn’t mind walking you home.” He prolonged his hand and let It rest on her shoulder. “I wouldn’t mind at all.”

       “That’s okay,” she said quickly. “I like walking alone, Highfist.”

       “Oh, that’s awesome, really. You know, I like walking alone too, we could walk alone together.”

       Fritz had a trouble muffling his laughter, so he bit his lips together and put them behind his hand.

       The guns in the air started to tremble when Mira’s concentration shivered. She looked angry and afraid all at once. There were the beginnings of sirens hearable. Then Highfist’s face turned a lot less innocent until he started to laugh. He pulled his hand back to its normal length and brushed the dust from his costume.

       “Works every time,” he grinned happily and with the twins on his heels headed to the waiting cab. “You are so sure of yourself, Mira.”

       Suddenly, it was just the two of them, Nutella and the knocked-out criminals.

       “That stupid asshole,” Mira muttered. “No wonder he has the lamest power the universe could master.”

       “Well, I’m going home too. Good night, Mira,” Nutella waved and hopped on his skateboard.

       Fritz had the feeling he should leave, but she was still here, sitting on the curb, waiting for the police officers.

       Then she yawned and he realized she didn’t know she wasn’t alone. And it felt wrong. So he turned around, let his body evaporate and picked up speed through the arcade to the suburbs.

 

       Fritz pushed the door open and took his earbuds out of his backpack. The serious line of curses flashed through his vision. He always had more visual thinking. The things he wanted to do to them clearly visible before him. He was no pacifist, but his mind might be a little bit more graphic than he preferred.

       He plugged the jack into his phone and scrolled down until he found the new releases by Nick Waterhouse. The drums started and Fritz immediately melted. The minute his feet touched the safe area of a deserted aisle, he vanished and through the kitchen of a small pizzeria, he began his way home.

       It was always strange listening to music during his off-body time. The experience has no parallel. It was like dancing slash singing slash being so loud and still unnoticeable. Like playing video games, getting killed and spending your game-over time like a ghost among the alive ones, until the game is restored.

       He was always home alone during these hours, so he took a cooling trip through the fridge into his room, the vanilla yogurt treat in his hand. He had approximately four hours until the dusk, so he had four hours to do his homework, catch up on his sleep, practice on the trombone and cook dinner for his sister. He wished he could use his superpowers on his chores, but they were practically useless.

       He started with the Spanish translations and during cooking Italian he prepared the sketch of his English essay on Blake’s contradictions.

       One hour later there was a knock combined with the doorbell and he looked through the spy-hole. In all his small glory, there stand Alec with his crooked smile and school shirt damp and creased from sweat and rain. So, he waited another two minutes, then he saw how he knocked and push the doorbell second time.

       Fritz heavily sighed and pulled the door open.

       “What? I don’t want to talk to you.”

       Alec looked alarmed at the sharp hostility but held his ground quite stubbornly. “I came to say I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you. Totally my fault.” He bowed his head and put his hands into his pockets. “I’d like to make it up to you.”

       “How? There is nothing you could do to make it better.”

       “I could tell them it was me. That I made you do that.”

       “And how that’s supposed to work?”

       Alec shrugged and lift one corner of his mouth. “I’ll tell them it was me, that I had the invisibility power and that I made you invisible. Thus, they would let you alone and I would take the blow.”

       “Oh, I’m sure you would,” Fritz said angrily, but truth to be told, he was actually considering it. “And why do you think they would believe you?”

       Alec had an almost manic grin plastered across his face now. “Because you will be invisible and when I will tell them, you will make me invisible too, you see. It’s a full-proof plan.”

 

       The next day he found himself breaking the school rules. He walked into the school totally bodiless, invisible and got his classmate into trouble the first thing in the morning. Mr. Greene took Alec by his left arm just when he made him invisible and dragged him into his office.

       The school bell was already ringing for his first class and it would be suspicious to miss it. He prayed Alec won’t crack and seated himself behind his lab partner.

       “Where have you been this morning? I was waiting for you,” whispered Miranda from his right side.

       “I was late.”

       “You’re never late.”

       “Well, I am now.”

       She looked at him funny. “I was worried about you. You totally disappeared yesterday.”

       He almost laughed, these invisible puns… but Miss Hutcheson entered the classroom, so he just bit his lips together and glanced at her sideways. She had her face buried in her hands and her shoulders were shaking. She was always more unfortunate to keep her composure.

       “I meant I tried to reach you, but you went straight home and your phone was probably off. I was worried. Are you alright?”

       The teacher started with the attendance and Fritz pulled out the binder with his homework.

       “I’m fine. Let’s talk later.” Fritz got fidgety when speaking during class.

 

       Alec was waiting for him outside the room with his arms folded on his chest and huge grin masked with his textbooks.

       “Hey, man. Do you have a moment?”

       Fritz looked at Miranda, who rolled her eyes and threw her hands in the air, already on her way out. “You’re impossible. Hope you’ll die alone.”

       “Are you okay?” Fritz asked cautiously.

       “Yeah, I’ve just got detention. But, I’m famous now. They put me on the notice-board for superheroes.”

       Fritz shifted his weight and put his hands on the straps of his backpacks. “Well, congratulations.”

       “Thanks!” cheered Alec excitedly. “I’ve just wanted to thank you properly. This is awesome!”

       “Yeah, you’re welcome.”

       Fritz knew he should be thankful, that this was good for him too, but he felt used. As though some low, dead wave washed through him, leaving him numb and empty.

       It was the perfect time to lose oneself. Just let the feeling waft him away like a used handkerchief. His fingers started to tickle and his eyes were still staring at the same spot.

       He shook himself out of his daze and looked Alec in the eyes.

       “So, I’ll see you around.” He tried a smile ale left. Before he could screw this up even more.

 

       That night was dreadful. That night was his last, he was just sure of it.

       They were losing in the beginning. The bad guys had guns and knives and there were so many of them. So many that even Fritz has a lot to do. He was de trop most of the times. Not tonight though. And then, when he knocked out two ladies in leather jackets and they finally started to have the edge on them, Mira shouted at him: “Well done, Alec!”

       He stumbled backward and fell through the roof into the bathroom on the second floor. He materialized just in time to hit the tiles before he could fell even lower. His hip was aching and his head felt dizzy. But these were minor injuries, he had had worse. Yet, he had never felt so awful.

       He curled into himself on the sticky floor and felt an entire ocean of low, dead waves around himself. Pushing and pulling him into another.

       This was not his battle, this was not his war. And now more than ever, he was aware of it.

       ‘This is pathetic,’ he realized.

       But still, even though his mind was healthy and he just knew the right things to think, his body and its reactions were unstoppable. His entire being started to tremble and he fell down to the basement. And then he didn’t stop.

 

       When he came to some sort of body consciousness, he found himself shockingly in his own bed. That let him wonder about the fact that when we are poorly we come back home.

       The room was quiet and the lights were off. His alarm clock showed the time 23:50.

       He laid still, his body still clothed in the black jogging suit he wore for the superhero fights. He slowly undressed and put all of it in the hamper. He stood in front of the mirror, looking at his bruises and caressing the little mole on his stomach when his sister entered.

       “What are you doing?” she asked, unsure she really wants to be enlightened.

       “I’m quitting.”

       She stared at him. “Why? What happened? Are you hurt?” She observed his hip with a slight hiss.

       “Just a little. I don’t want to do it anymore.”

       She heard the mild hesitation and so she put her hand on his shoulder. “It’s alright, Fritz. It’s completely fine.”

       “I’ve never wanted this,” he complained.

       “And still, it is yours. And no one else’s.”

 

       Fritz was always a private person, so the possibility of taking back what was rightly his wasn’t even considered. He rather let all the school think the new celebrity was Alec, thank you very much. That was his mindset until Miranda showed up before their last class. He sort of feared her rage.

       “Hi?” he tried, but her scowl told him, this wasn’t good enough.

       “Are you avoiding me again? I thought we established you won’t get unsocial with me when you’re clearly in the need of a help.”

       “I’m fine, really. I needed a solitude for a couple of days. That’s all.” He put his hands up in surrender, but she wasn’t done with him.

       “I can’t believe you, sodding prat. I’m your friend. Your only friend. Just don’t push me away, okay? I am allowed to worry, you know?”

       “But you don’t need to, really,” he started to be a bit exasperated. “I’m fine, Miranda. Totally fine.”

       “The hell you are.” She stepped closer, her finger pointed at his chest. “Next time this happens, you have one serious stalker behind your back.” Her blond ponytail was dancing with her every word.

       He rolled his eyes but before he could say something she pushed him.

       “Don’t roll your eyes on me, Frederick. Why the hell were you so put off that you couldn’t talk to me?”

       His mouth made a thin line and he fought the urge to shout at her to be quiet. “It was nothing, okay? I was crabby again, you know how I am sometimes.”

       “That’s just another reason to talk to me. I could help, you selfish nitwit.” She pushed him again, her hands colliding with his chest before they sank through the thin layer of his white shirt, which made a perfect contrast with his black skin. Her middle finger touched the inside of his rib bone before it jerked away.

       Then she gasped, her eyes comically wide.

       “Oh, crap.”