Clockwork Love

" Those who don't believe in magic will never find it." Roald Dahl I'm invisible. No, not literally. That would at least be cool-worthy of my own superhero movie or action figure. Nope, I'm talking about the figurative kind of invisible. The one that ensures my existence flies under the radar, and hides in the shadows, undetected by society. Sometimes it's like I'm not here-a living, breathing person composed of cells and flesh and blood. Even my roommate Tori, seems to forget that we share an apartment the size of a shipping container and leaves a trail of Tori-like debris in her wake. I pick up a pair of red, lacy underwear that resemble dental floss with the end of my pencil. They're crossing the imaginary line between my space and hers so I toss them on her bed. She'd doused herself in perfume before she left for her night out and the scent permeates the air, lingering in an unappealing mix of mandarin and jasmine. It's borderline offensive, gives me a headache, and makes focusing on my mammoth textbook impossible. The words are a jumbled mess, much like my mind. I'm about to throw on a sweater and go for coffee when the door to our dorm bursts open showcasing my best friend, Xavier Morgan. His hands are tucked behind his back, and the impish smile he reserves for me stretches across his face. He's tall and built and his hazel eyes gleam with a particular brand of mischief that could be his trademark. He's gorgeous, funny, smart and popular. A jock. A total cliche. Every girl's dream guy. Every girl except me. Truth be told, he's the whole package and then some but he's also the little neighbor boy who used to climb through my window, dirty and snot-faced from chasing one too many toads by the creek. He's basically the brother I never had. Yet, somewhere along the way, maybe when I had my face buried in a book, Xavier became a man. He can catch a football in one hand while scoring a date for Friday night and reciting Freud's Oedipus Complex Theory at the same time. It makes my head spin. I mean, he has to know he's a total catch and me-well-I'm not. Even so, X is the only person who sees me. "Hey Mouse," he says. We're in college and he still calls me Mouse, like he did when we were five. More often than not, I adore this term of endearment but sometimes, like when he shouts it out in public, I can't help but feel childish. "Hi." He steps into the dorm, showing his hands from their hiding place to reveal a pink cardboard box complete with an oversized satin bow. My heart melts a little. "You remembered." "Is that a joke? Of course I remembered. You only turn twenty-one once." He pauses and his face skews in disgust. For a moment, I'm sure he must smell the Eau de Tori until he says, "Speaking of which, why are you hiding away in your dorm celebrating with a mountain of homework?" "Exam week doesn't cease to exist because it's my birthday." "Well it should." He sets the box down so he can remove his jacket. "The whole world should stop spinning just because it's your birthday." He tosses the coat on Tori's side of the room and marches over to my textbook to slam the front cover closed. "C'mon, enough with the studying, we have things to do, celebrations to be had." I roll my eyes. No one on earth is more tenacious in his pursuits than X and I won't win this battle, so there's no point in trying. I remove my glasses and place the highlighter pen I'd been using in the drawer of my bedside table, set the textbook on the top, and resign myself to whatever it is Xavier has in mind for the evening. I sit on the bed and pat the space beside me. "What do you want to do?" He's pleased with my less than stellar efforts to argue with him, so he grabs the box and flops down next to me. "First things first," he says, handing it over. I take the package from him and pull on the end of the bow. The satin floats to the floor like a feather and I pull back the lid and peer in. A solitary cupcake is nestled inside. Chocolate, my favorite kind, with a mound of pink frosting. A single candle is set in the middle. Xavier proudly removes the cupcake and sits it in the palm of his hand before producing a lighter from his jeans, and bringing it to the wick. Once it's aflame, he starts to sing in a deep and raspy voice that could, for all intents and purposes, be solely responsible for a mass exodus of panties on campus. "Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy birthday dear Mouse, Happy birthday, to you!" I can't help it. I grin like a fool because even if I'm destined to wear this cloak of invisibility for a lifetime, I will always be someone to X. Someone who is alive, and someone who matters. Those things will always count for something. He finishes his serenade and I purse my lips together to blow out the candle but he yanks his hand away, almost extinguishing the flame in his haste. His left eyebrow knits down. "You have to make a wish, "It's your twenty-first birthday, Mouse, make it count." "Fine. I wish that you would start calling me by my name and stop calling me Mouse." It's a lie but I say it anyway with the same cheeky grin that appeared when he started singing. He knows I'm bluffing. X can call me whatever he wants. His voice drops lower. "Lola Marie Daniels, make a wish. A real one. Think about the one thing you want most in the world and ask the universe for it." The rush of air I'd reserved for the candle leaves my lungs in a disbelieving psssh sound. "This is silly. The universe isn't in the habit of making my wishes come true." "There's a first time for everything," he says. "Now please, humor me and make the damned wish." "Fine," I mutter. What do I want most in this world? Fame? Popularity? Notoriety? No. I don't want those things. There is one thing alone that I desire most. Maybe I should wish for that. For one small moment, I get lost in Xavier's optimistic charms and dare to view the world through the same rose-colored lenses he wears until he interrupts my thoughts with a warning. "Don't say it out loud or it won't come true." It's silly and juvenile and absurd but I want to believe that wishes do come true so I close my eyes and think, 'I wish I would meet someone who could see me for who I am. I wish for a fierce, unhindered kind of love. The kind so deep it hurts. I wish that to someone other than X, I wasn't invisible.' After I'm done reciting my inner desires, I blow on the candle, extinguishing my temporary insanity, as well as the flame. X leans over to drop a kiss on my forehead. "My wish is that you get your wish, Lo. Now, let's eat this thing. It cost like five bucks."