is a word I’ve thought about a lot. It’s something I’d like to be, especially at school. Especially last year in the fifth grade, and the year before, and the year before that, since I have such a bad reputation. Anytime something happens in my presence, I’m the one blamed for trouble. So it’d be great not to be seen at all. “Ben? Absent again,” the teacher would say during roll call. “Yup,” the class would say. “Absent again.” And there I’d be, sitting at my desk chewing bubble gum, sticking it on the bottom of the chair, my feet up on the desk, my baseball cap on backwards. But no one would know. I’d be able to see everyone perfectly, but they couldn’t see me when I stuck my foot into the aisle, and Ms. Percival tripped on it and knocked out her front teeth, so she had to have fake ones. Invisible, I’d simply walk into homeroom and stand on my head and dump Mary Sue Briggs out of her chair and throw a few water balloons, maybe one just over the teacher’s desk, splashing water all over his grade book.
