Barbie Girl (Baby Doll Series) (5 page)

“Hey, stop,” I call out jogging as
I
try to catch up with her. Damn she is fast. “Come on, I am sorry.” I match her pace walking next to her. She ignores me pushing through the red metal double doors to the outside, warm air slams into me.

I push through the front double doors; no one tries to stop us, why bother I am nothing but a troubled girl. A loose wire, people move out of my way when I walk down the hall like I am diseased. The air is hot and heavy making the hair stick to my neck. “Come on, I already said I was sorry.” Dylan tries to keep pace with me. I shrug my messenger-bag strap up my shoulder and begin to braid my hair angrily to keep it from sticking to the back of my neck. I hate Dylan Knight I am done with him and this whole tutoring thing. “You know it is not like you try to portray anything different, I mean look how you are dressed.”

That’s it, he has gone too far. “Oh I am sorry, maybe I should dress like I just came from a Trekkie convention, and then maybe people would like me and stop talking shit.” I pivot on my heels so I am facing him.

“What’s wrong with the way I am dressed?” he asks his brown hair falling in his eyes. Nothing is wrong with how he is dressed; it is actually kind of cute in an I-don’t-care, nerdy kind of way. He obviously put thought into his look, the faded grey T-shirt
Galaxy Hero
written in faded yellow and green block letters, his rumbled jeans, with his scuffed-up chucks.

“Nothing,
” I sigh and start to walk away.

“No come on talk to me,” he grabs my arm stopping me from leaving.

My throat aches with the words stuck in it. He thinks he knows me, just like everyone else at this school. They have no clue, how their words are like a knife cutting me deep. “You think you have everything figured out, that everyone has their place, that it is black and white, you fail to see the gray in-between.” I am rambling so fast the words get broken and stuck in my throat.

“You are not making any sense.”

I let out sigh. “Follow me.” I walk not waiting to see if he follows.

“I don’t see how bringing me out here under the bleachers proves anything,” he protests as we make our way underneath the metal seats.

“Be
cause you need to see something,
” I guide him amongst the empty soda bottles and trash that littler the ground. “Look,” I gesture in front of me.

There are a few kids standing sharing a cigarette between them, but that’s not what I brought him here to see, just past the group of smokers sits Tyler in the same chair we sat in yesterday with a certain red-headed princess.

“What…” he starts before seeing what I brought him here for. I watch his face trying to gauge his reaction. His eyes flicker with confusion, then anger, followed by hurt. His eyes show how he is feeling I can read the darkness in them. His face hardens and he turns and starts to leave. Now it is my turn to chase after him.

“So you brought me out here to try to hurt me. To show me that I will never be good enough for her, that I will never be Tyler Smalls. Well you win Barbie; I don’t want to play your fucked-up game anymore. We are done, find someone else to tutor you,” he storms forward.

“This is not a game,” I call out to him. Hurting him was not what I wanted; I just wanted him to see that there is more to people than what he is sees. “I brought you here to show you that just because you think you have us figured out, wrapped in these perfect parcels, me a skanky crazy girl or her the perfect girl, you are wrong… There is more to me, more to her than what you think, more than the people at this fucked-up school think.” I push him in his chest hard. Why can’t he just see that? Why can’t they see that? I slam my hand into his chest again, anger pouring out of me.

He grabs my wrists to stop me from pummeling him again “I get it okay,” his words sound harsh. “I get it, I hold her up on a pedestal, and she is not perfect like I want to believe. I get you might not be what you seem, okay.” my chest heaves as I look in his eyes. “I get it,” he repeats again before dropping my hands I leave them at my side.

That desire to feel numb hits me like an iron fist. We stare at each other for what seems like forever, his dark eyes consuming mine, his mouth slightly parted with heavy breathing. Would kissing him have the same effect on me that I need? The bell rings, he looks up at the gray cement building.

“Let’s leave,” I say.

He shakes his head “I can’t
I have class.”

He leaves me. He stalks into the building, leaving me behind. He leaves me battered. I leave to find what I am looking for; maybe I do fit into the box he created.

“So you and Barbie are a thing now?” Katie leans against
my locker; she smells amazing like jasmine. I close my eyes, breathing her in. I would give anything to have her here standing this close to me, but thanks to Barbie I now have images of her straddling Tyler, with her shirt unbuttoned his hands on her breast, burned into my temporal lobe.

“It is complicated.” I sigh; because it is complicated, everything about Barbie is complicated.

“Oh,” Katie clutches her text books to her chest, each book is covered in a navy blue and pink
cover, it is
her signature look. I used to love that look, now I am not sure how I feel. “It seems like she really likes you,” she bites at her lower lip. Yeah…like a shark likes baby seals.

I run my free hand through my hair not knowing what to say. Barbie has me questioning my feelings. But this is the girl who won the state championship in academic games, the girl who ran for student body president as a freshman. This is the girl who has never gotten below an A in her life. I want to tell her how I feel; that I am confused, that what is going on with Barbie is fake, all a con to get her to notice me. That I am in love with her, I want to get on one knee and beg her to go out with me. Marry me. I want to tell her I saw her with Tyler and it is killing me but none of that matters because, I love her.

She takes my silence for an answer, “Look, just don’t get hurt,” she says.

“What do you mean?” I slam my locker shut. Is she worried about me?

“It’s just that she has been…” she pauses, “around a lot. And you…well you are really sweet.” She looks down at her shoes before taking a step closer to me; we are standing toe to toe. My heart is beating erratically. She tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear, and licks her lips.

“Hey, there you are,” Barbie bounces up and laces her fingers in mine. “Hey Katie. What are you guys talking about? Me?”

I am breathing hard. Katie steps back, her cheeks turning a deep shade of red. Was she about to kiss me? The dream of us together slips through my mind like water running down a grate. Barbie interrupted on purpose, how could she not see that I was about to kiss her. I know she is mad at me, but really was she going to try to get me back for what I said. I already apologized to her.
Go away. Go away. Go Away.

“No,” Katie squeaks.

“Was he telling you how we got together?” she leans her head on my shoulder. “How he rocked my world under the bleachers?” she continues making this the most uncomfortable conversation in my life, topping the time my mother had the “talk” with me, she is a nurse so there was lots of graphic pictures on what could happen if you have unprotected sex. I feel all the air leave the room, my head spins as I look for an escape route from the disaster that is becoming my life. I open and shut my mouth trying to suck air down my constricted wind pipe. “Just kidding,” she hits Katie playfully on the arm, but hard enough for her to stumble. “I don’t make out under the bleachers with random boys. Yes she does, but so does Katie. Katie’s face pales.

“He is tutoring me in Math, and, well…just look at how cute he is. Couldn’t you just kiss him?” She grabs my cheeks with her vice like fingers. I try to pull away from her but she continues to squeeze my cheeks with force.

“Umm…” Katie fumbles.

“I know…” Barbie continues oblivious to the uncomfortable situation she just created. She finally lets go of my face that I am sure has little purple bruises forming, and winds her fingers in my hair. “He was like you wanna go out? And then I was like totally, and then he was like really? And I was like yeah, and then he like really did rock my world.” She looks longingly up at me batting her freaky big eyes.
Yessh
.

“Yeah well…I got to go,” Katie says and starts to back up.

I watch Katie disappear before turning on Barbie. “God,” I yank free from her grip, “laying it on a little thick don’t you think. Do you know what you just interrupted? What you just ruined? She is never going to talk to me after this.” I run my hand through my hair, why did I let her talk me into this. “Rocked your world?” I say shrugging her off shrug her off.

“If you kissed Katie just now, that would be it. You have to let her see
that you are desirable. Wanted,
” She snaps, swinging her head to glare at me. Her hair is in two braids down her back, and I am six again chasing her and God help me I want to tug on them. It has only been two days and she has already created a tornado of emotions inside me.

“Trust me,” she says, but I don’t trust her. How can I trust a girl who is so out of control?

“Look just chill out with the PA, okay,” I say.

She laughs, “You are kind of cute when you get flustered.” She reaches up and messes up my hair. “For this thing to work we really need to act like we can’t get enough of each other.”

* * *

A week goes by without too much more of a catastrophe. Barbie has become a permanent fixture at our lunch table. She waits for me in the morning and we walk in holding hands, playing the part of the happy couple. It makes my stomach turn into knots, because I cannot tell what this means to Barbie. Sometimes I wonder if she actually enjoys this act we are putting on, she lays it on heavy, flirting when no one is around, and cuddles up to me during our free time while I am trying to teach her anything that will stick in her head. I don’t know what Katie thinks either she has not tried to approach me since the incident in the hallway, she has been ignoring me ever since.

Barbie meets me at my locker in-between classes, telling me funny things that happened to her in class, or a story that she thinks I will find amusing. She is actually pretty funny; it is easy to be around her. That is when she is not prancing around in miniskirts and flirting with any male figure that crosses her path. I wonder what rumors about her exactly are true. I find them hard to decipher. She continues her flirty banter with Third, he is really into it, and he has even begun to come up with witty comebacks. I have never seen him act this way with a girl before. I even think he is losing weight thanks to him sharing half his lunch with her every day. Sometimes I feel like I am the third wheel.

I knock on the door then ring the doorbell, once, twice, three times. Annoying, I know that’s the point to bug the crap out of him. I like how he looks when he gets frustrated and all pouty, he sighs through his nose, and runs his hand through his hair messing it up. I am late and I know this will agitate him too. I am not late on purpose I had to wait for Ms. Sophie, my elderly neighbor, to get back from bingo; she has a gambling problem that she denies. She watches Everett for me when I need her to; she even lets us crash at her place if Momma is really bad. I hear feet pounding behind the blue door; I pose, hands on the hips, chest out, all for the pleasure of seeing the look on Dylan’s face. The door swings open and a little girl stands barefoot staring up at me. She has big brown eyes that match Dylan’s, she also has his dark, deep set eyes. Her mouth hangs open at the sight of me. I tend to have that effect on people.

“Emmy who is it?” Dylan calls to her.

“A really pretty girl, with cool hair,” her tongue sticks out between her missing teeth with each word. I lean against the door frame, waiting for him to enter. He strides into view, he is wearing a pair of khaki cargo shorts and a black T-shirt; he looks good. When he takes notice of me his look turns hard. Just the reaction I was hoping for.

“You’re late!” he comes and stands behind the little girl who is staring up at us. This is most likely the most entertainment the poor kid has had.

“Sleeping off a hangover,” I smile.

He snorts, well annoying him was part of my plan. “Emmy go to your room,” his words
come out
clipped.

“But…But” her lower lip sticks out.

“Now!” She sticks out her tongue at him. I really like this kid she is not going down without a fight He points to the wooden stairs behind him, “Go.”

She crosses her skinny little arms in the same stance as Dylan, “Fine,” she stomps down the hall making sure she is heard all the way up the stairs.

His arms cross tight across his broad chest and he stares down at me, his shirt tightens over his chest displaying each indentation of his chest. I try not to notice, but I still feel the butterflies take flight in my stomach. He is waiting for me to elucidate, but I am staring. He is searching for something as he takes me in looking me up and down, and I made sure to wear my shortest shorts just in case Momma Knight was home. “Well?” he asks.