Barbie Girl (Baby Doll Series) (26 page)

His son is the one I hate. I feel his eyes on me each step I take, and I hate him more. I avoid eye contact with him. I might scream at him, lunge at him. Does he know how much I hate him? That if I had any other choice I would have taken it. I did not choose this. Him. I chose Everett. Each step I repeat that over and over to myself and it helps me propel myself forward. Step.
Breathe
. For Everett. On the last step I make the mistake of catching his deep dark eyes. I have never been so thankful that Mr. Knight has his hands on my back; because I am sure I would have fallen and shattered into a million fragile pieces.

Mr. Knight ushers me past Dylan to my new room. No. This is not my room. It will never be my room. Step. Breathe. For Everett. This is temporary as soon as I can run; I will take him and run. I can almost feel the hot California sun on my face. Of course I agreed to Mrs. Knight’s terms.
Whatever
. Whatever it takes for me to keep Everett and me together.

I have a parade of people behind me. Dylan lingers outside the door keeping his eyes on the dirty chucks on his feet. Emmy comes bouncing pulling Everett by the hand. I want to drop to my knees and pull him to me. But the pain in my side prevents me from any sudden movements. Emmy trails him over to me and I pull him to me despite the pain.

“Do you like it?” Emmy bounces on the bed with her knees. “Me and Evie picked out the blanket for you.” I look over at the pink polka dot blanket, and shudder inside. It is something I imagine Katie would pick out, then I have a sickening feeling, did she help? As far as I know Dylan and she are still a couple.

“Love it,” I say weakly giving them a small smile. Her mouth spreads into a toothless grin, satisfied. Mrs. Knight the ever-nurse takes my weak smile as distress and ushers everyone out so I can rest. Dylan hesitates for a second that feels like hours burning into my back.

We have an unsaid agreement, we don’t speak, avoid each other, but the problem with avoiding someone in such close corridors is you are bound to run into them in the most awkward moments. Like when you are grabbing some chocolate milk in your boxers, when you think everyone is a sleep, or when someone forgets to lock the bathroom door before they take a shower and you stand there like an idiot your mouth on the floor. But other than a few incidents I manage to avoid her. At school it is like she doesn’t exist, nobody asks why she has not been at school. I guess the only other people who care already know why she is not in school.

I managed to fix things with Katie, she knows about the arrangement with Barbie and her brother. She does not like it but she “trusts me,” those were her words. As long as I answer her calls she seems to be fine, half the time I walk around with the phone glued to my ear, pretending to listen to her talk.

There is an awkwardness with me and Third. I glance at him during
lunch;
he sits at our old table with Tim and Bret from math leagues and that girl Roxie. It looks like they are together. He nods in my direction. We have not spoken since I apologized, an unspoken agreement between us. Lines have been drawn and he chose Barbie. Hell, I chose her too. That’s why I sit with Katie at a table with her friends and their endless gossip.

Barbie is ready to return to school, the bruises on her face have turned yellow. My mother insists that I give her a ride to school, she does not argue but I see the disgust on her face. My mother wears the same face when she asks her if that is what she is wearing to school. I bite back a laugh, my mother in her conservative cardigans, and Barbie in her little brother’s power ranger T-shirt that shows her midriff and short ripped denim shorts, a pair of knee socks and her red combat boots.

Barbie just shrugs, my mother lies to her telling her she looks nice, and suggests that after school she will take her and Everett shopping. When Barbie protests she says it is required by the state she spends so much on clothes, Barbie doesn’t argue. We ride in silence not speaking but there are a million words that dance on the tip of my tongue.

It is not that bad being at the Knights; sometimes I have to remind myself not to get too comfortable. No matter how numb I try to become to them, I can’t help that my heart melted a little with the way they treat Everett. Emmy pulls him around like he is her personal living doll, but Everett does not seem to mind he follows her. I even catch him holding eye contact with her for a few seconds before he looks away. He taps his finger on his leg happily.

I am lost in my own internal babble waiting in the lunch line. I don’t pay attention to what is being slipped on to the tray in front of me.

“Move!”

I turn to the voice behind me. Katie’s red untouched hair pulled back into a perfect pony tail, not a hair daring to be out of place. She is a head shorter than me, I have to look down at her green eyes that are narrowed in on me, her thin lips are pressed into an even thinner line. I blink several times as if I am waking up from a dream. As I take in her appearance, her perfectly pressed white shirt tucked into a khaki knee-length skirt, her brown ballet flats matching her belt perfectly.
Huh? Do people actually match thei
r belt with their shoes?

“Are you stupid? Move,” her voice is a harsh reality shaking me awake.

“What the hell is your problem?” I ask in a low voice trying not to rouse suspicion. I have been doing exactly what Mrs. Knight has asked of me, and it is harder than it seems but I have been trying to keep my head down, my nose clean, and my mouth shut. I owe her. I owe it to Everett not to fuck things up for him.

“You know the only reason that Dylan is being nice to you is because he feels sorry for you and your little retarded brother.”

White hot anger burns in me. I grip on to the tray line to keep myself steady. “He feels bad that your druggie mother didn’t even want you.” Now her eyes flash with something, anger, hurt, disgust.

“Shut up. You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I hiss.

She smiles at me “Oh trust me, I do.” I turn and continue to push my tray down the line. I work on steadying my breathing, calming my shaking fists.
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe
.

“You know he can’t even believe he went out with you.” She follows me down the line mocking me. “I mean look at you,” she looks me up and down, her lip curled in disgust.

I can’t stop myself; I bring my hand for a second up to my hair, long enough for her to notice, to use it as a weapon against me. She laughs but there is no humor behind it. “What, you think if you dye your hair a different color than trashy blonde he would notice you? Think you are something different? That you are not a slut?” My hands ache at my side, I clench them in and out. “You will always be trash, no matter what side of the tracks you live on,” she says. The lunch room has suddenly become quiet; people want to see a fight. They would love that. I would love nothing more to shut her mouth with my own fist.

My heart is pounding from the adrenaline that rushes through my veins. Stay calm. Be cool. I put my tray down placing both hands on my hips, sticking out my chest. I can see her falter a bit, her eyes glancing up at my chest. I let Mrs. Knight bring me to her hair salon and dress me up. I didn’t want to change anything about me, but she was so excited about giving me a fresh start I went with it. I didn’t want to screw up anything for Everett and if that meant dying my hair and wearing loose fitting clothes, then hell I was going to do it. I also wanted to make her happy. She kept Everett and I together, the state was all too happy about tearing us apart and sticking me in a home for troubled girls. I flip my now light brown hair with lots of honey highlights over my shoulder, and smile. “You are right Katie, no matter how much pink I wear or what color my hair is I will never be like you. I will never be good enough for this fucking school,” I yell. “I will always be a slut from the wrong side of town.” I poke her in her shoulder. “So fuck you, Katie.” I give her a smile, “At least I am not hiding who I really I am, and pretending to be an uptight bitch, when really I let Tyler feel me up under the bleachers when I think no one is looking.” I push past her, my shoulder hitting into hers. She almost drops her tray but recovers quickly not wanting to spill the greasy mess on her perfect white top.

“You are such a liar, Barbie!” She shrieks behind me. I ignore her, I have one direction and I walk fast, head held high before I lose my nerve. The room is silent. Watching. Waiting. The only sound is the click of my new pink ballet flats against the old black and white tiles. I walk fast with a purpose. I stop. Dylan barely has time to rise before I press my body up against his and kiss him on the mouth as hard as I can.

The world stops spinning. She is the ocean crashing into me, tossing me, drowning me. I can’t breathe. I do not care. I want to die right now. I want nothing more than to drown in her. My head is filled with a gray fog. I am being pulled toward heaven and
my angel is kissing me. The smell of
sweet spun sugar wraps around me
. Pulling us closer together. Then
quickly
pushing us apart. I need her, I pu
ll her closer. I want her. I need
to feel her soft skin.
I n
eed
to breathe her in.
I want to taste her sweet taste. I need her more than breathing.
Then I need life its self
.
S
he is keeping me alive.
She is love.
Then she pulls away
too soon
.

I am dying. Every part of me is
shattering;
falling to the floor, a hole in my chest is ripped
wide open for t
he world
to see. The earth
is set into motion
again
spinning faster than before, nothing makes sense, but everything makes sense. I watch her walk away, each sway of her hips teeters the world a little more. Someone is screaming but I can’t look away to see how many casualties there are. I am trapped by
an
angel as I watch her walk away.

The End

Acknowledgments

Thank you! Thank you, to all my family who has supported me in my life ventures. Without you I would never have the courage to write.
Each and every one of y
ou
is
my inspiration
, and
in the pages of Barbie Girl.

Mom
,
thank you
for
teaching me to read and giving me
the love of reading
, I love you
!

Madison
my sweet baby girl I love you so much
you are the reason I do anything in my life, I love you. Thank you for giving my life a purpose, keep on dancing
and fallowing your dreams
.

Joe thank you for all your
support and the push to write, and dealing with the extra emotional baggage of mine that went with writing Barbie Girl
I love you.

Holly,
my sister and best friend
,
thank you for your encouragement and honesty and for reading Barbie’s
story first
.

My brothers through your annoying antics, and funny tidbits on life, I get inspiration. I love you three.

Aunt Susan
for keeping my essays
,
this is not an article in the Reader Digest, but not too bad
.
I love
you
so much you
have always been there for me no matter what.
Words
will never
say
how much I will appreciate the things you have done for me.

Uncle
Bill
thank you
for all the hours and time you spent revising my
papers
,
and
the countless
hours spent on Facetime
for you I owe my education.

Of course
to
my grandmother who made me practice typing on an old fashioned type writer fo
r an hour a day when I was little
.

To Jordan
every day is a challenge and you
taught me
to
never to give up in the face of challenge, and to keep on shuffling.
You are a pretty awesome kid always remember that.

Cheryl for all the support and therapy sessions, Lauren for always being there and listening, the two of you are my best friends, and I miss you every day we are apart. I love you, thank you for being you. And of course last bu
t not least, to all my aunts,
uncles
,
and
cousins
I love you all, you are the most supportive loving family I could have asked for. I love you!

This is for ya’ll

Look for Barbie and Dylan to continue in Barbie World, the second installment in the Doll Series coming soon.

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