pretty. Lola’s not popular. Lola wishes she could disappear … and then one day
she does just that…For seventeen-year-old Lola Savullo, life is a struggle. Born to funky parents
who are more in than she could ever be, Lola’s dream of becoming a writer makes
her an outsider even in her own home. Bullied and despised, Lola still has the
support of her best pal Charlie and Grandma Rose.
Not only is she freakishly tall, Lola’s a big girl and when forced to wear a
bathing suit at her summer job as a camp counselor, Lola’s only escape from
deep embarrassment seems to be to literally vanish. Soon after, she discovers
the roots of her new “ability”.
Slowly, with Charlie’s help, Lola learns to control the new super power. The
possibilities are endless. Yet power can be abused, too…
When tragedy strikes, Lola must summon her inner strength, both at home and at
school. She has to stand up for herself, despite the temptations and possibilities
of her newfound super power.
A coming-of-age story that will warm the heart.
your suit on and help supervise the pool. The more eyes the better,” Justine,
the athletic, sun-kissed, twenty-one-year-old camp director ordered once we
wrangled our none-too-obedient charges off the bus. The gaggle of four to eight
year olds ran around in a loud, unruly horde as soon as their sneakered feet
hit the parking lot pavement. Counselors soon managed some semblance of
organization. Calls for straight lines and, “Hey, get back here,” reached my
group was well behaved, perhaps because I had the fewest kids—only six of them
and most, thank God, were girls.
Justine was beside me, glaring. “Didn’t you hear me?”
looking at her, I shook my head no.
But I had heard her, loud and clear, except I wanted desperately to push her
words away, hoping she’d recant and it would be business as usual.
Suit. On,” she said again and this time, my heart took off in a sprint.
I tried to hide the wobble in my voice. It was my job to watch the kids who
weren’t swimming—the ones who’d left their suits at home or didn’t feel well.
expectant gazes turned to my way as fellow counselors waited with evil
half-grins, for my reaction. Although no one, except my best friend Charlie,
knew how I felt about wearing a bathing suit, I realized my co-workers had to
be aware of my private horror, because it was the horror of every fat girl.
as she flipped through the sheets on her clipboard, running a finger down the
column of names. “No campers are sitting out today, Lola, so you have to help
supervise the pool.”
impossible had just happened. In my three summers as a counselor, there had
always been at least one measly kid
who didn’t swim on pool day.
long, awkward moment, I stood frozen in place. How could I get out of this? A
sudden migraine? My period? I tried to speak, but nothing came out except a
tiny, almost inaudible, moan.
rolled her eyes and walked away, taking my chance for escape with her. I
searched through my bag for my black one-piece, barely able to see a thing
through my tear-blurred eyes. Somehow, I managed to stuff away the panic and
gather the nerve to march past my co-workers, who I’d never thought of as
friends, despite working with them summer after summer.
the dank change room, I entered an empty stall and locked the door with shaky
fingers. I was sweating from both the heat and anxiety. The stench of my panic
filled my nostrils as I felt around in my bag for a stick of deodorant, though
I knew full well, I wouldn’t find one. With a sigh, I stretched my suit over
sweat-slicked skin, wriggling and struggling to pull it up past wide hips and a
escaped me. Not only was I fat, I was freakishly tall. God only knew why, since
Mom was petite and Dad was on the short side. My older sister, Eva, was the
spitting image of Mom, fair and fine boned. Apparently, I took after Dad’s
side—bulky, dark, and thick. I must have gotten some of Uncle Sammy’s genes,
the giant of the family, who topped out at six foot five.
down at the coarse dark hair creeping up my calves to just past my knees, where
it gradually petered out. My insides dropped as if I’d placed a foot on a step
that wasn’t there. I ran a hand across the tops of my thighs. The triple bulge
of my belly prevented a good look at what my hand told me was a sorely
neglected bikini area. There had never been a reason to shave. Even in the
blazing August heat, I wore baggy cotton Capri pants, never exposing more than
pulsed with an ache to cry and my eyes misted again. I swallowed my distress
and pinched away tears. It would be torturous enough to step out of the change
room looking like this, but I wouldn’t give the other counselors the
satisfaction of watching me have a meltdown. I lifted my chin in resolve and
opened the door. As I peeked out, I spied a line of girls jumping with excitement
and a few harried counselors corralling them to the exit.
Jeanne Bannon has worked in the publishing industry for over twenty years, first as a freelance journalist, then as an in-house editor for LexisNexis Canada. She currently works as a freelance editor and writer.
When not reading or writing, Jeanne enjoys spending time with her daughters, Nina and Sara and her husband, David. She’s also the proud mother of two fur babies, a cuddly and affectionate Boston Terrier named Lila and Spencer, a rambunctious tabby, who can be a very bad boy.