Barbie World (Baby Doll Series) (11 page)

Chapter 13.
Dylan

I wake up and roll over and text Katie that I would not be meeting her and her friends for our prep class, before heading upstairs. I need to talk to Barbie to figure things out before I call it quits with Katie. I begin to feel guilty again, knowing that I need to end things with Katie; it is not fair for me to string her along when I have feelings for someone else. However, it’s not that easy. Not able to think about it anymore, I take the stairs two at a time, in need of a serious chocolate milk fix right now.

I skid to a halt as I come into the kitchen and I see her with her back to me. My eyes travel up the length of her body, starting at her ridiculous, fuzzy sock covered feet, I continue up her legs that stick out of pink and purple polka dot pajama shorts. Her back is bare and my eyes linger on the dimples at the bottom of her back. She wears a pink sports bra and is doing a dance as she scoops something onto a pan. I bite at my bottom lip to stifle back a laugh that is bubbling up in me. It is amusing to see her when she thinks no one is watching her. That wall she has built up between us is gone. She scoops out another scoop and shimmies to the right. I am more than content to stand here all day and watch her. I could watch her forever, but I don’t want to be that creepy stalker ex so I make my presence known. I clear my throat, but she continues her little dance.

I watch her a little longer. “What are you doing?” I finally ask.

She squeals, dropping whatever was in her hand onto the counter with a loud bang. She turns around, spinning to see me standing behind her. Her eyes go big as they travel the length of my body. I am glad I didn’t throw on a shirt when I came upstairs. I can’t help smirking as I cock my brows at her. I want to tease her for staring. I want to hear her flirtatious response that she used to use on me.

“Humph… making cookies,” she says, turning her back on me. Wait that’s not good.

“It looks like you are doing more eating than baking,” I tease trying to get her to look at me.

She flips one of her braids over her shoulders and ignores me. Yeah, well, I don’t plan on being ignored; I walk up behind her so my chest presses up against her back. She takes a sharp intake of breath and I smile to myself, I still have that effect on her. She can act like she hates me all she wants, but she must still have feelings for me. Why else would she be rod straight right now?

I lean in. I mean to say some smart ass remark, but she smells so damn good, my mind goes blank. My body instantly responds to being this close to her. All I want to do is touch her to feel the spark of electricity that happens when we touch. My heart is pounding like crazy. I need to say something, or do something, to cover up the sudden dumb fondness I am struck with.

I stick my finger in the cookie dough, scooping some out. “Tasty,” I say, my lips grazing her ear. I take a deep breath, breathing in that sweet, sugar smell of hers. She spins around, her chest now pressed against mine and I want to close any distance between us, but I remain still and hold my ground.

Her chest rises and falls. “What do you think you are doing?” she gasps.

“What?” I shrug innocently. I thought after last night… But I thought wrong, she is back to being defensive.

She places her hand on my chest and begins to push me back. “You know exactly what you are doing.” Her lip curls up and I want to lean in to kiss the tilt of her mouth. I wrap my hand around her wrist; it is so small in my hand. She stills, her eyes meeting mine, something flashes in them and I cannot read them because as fast as it came it’s gone. I keep a hold of her wrist, relishing in the small hum that is coming from this one, small interaction and I don’t know when I will get to feel her again.

“Dylan-” Her voice sounds small, almost like a dream. “-we can’t.”

“We aren’t.” She bites at her bottom lip, contemplating this, “Barbie, we can be friends; we live in the same house for God’s sake. Just friends.” I take a step back, dropping her hand, which kills me inside, but if I don’t, I will have her running skittish. I need to wave my white flag and take it tentatively with her.

She looks at my chest. “Friends?”

I smile and repeat her, confirming it. “Friends.”

“How about I make us some breakfast to celebrate our new friendship,”

“I don’t know…”

“That is what friends do, make each other breakfast.” She cocks her eyebrow at me. Okay, so the closest I came to ever making Third breakfast was tossing him a box of fruit loops. “Come on, I am free all day. Let’s just try it, let’s try to be friends. Give me a chance and if I screw up, you go back to hating my guts.” I give her my best smile, the one that usually gets me out of trouble with my mom.

“Okay-” She nods still unsure. “-but what about Katie?” her brows furrow in concern. Crap. I don’t want her to think about Katie, I don’t want to think about Katie. I want her to think about the stolen moments that we have shared.

“She has some study group she is at so I am free to hang today. Just friends Barbie…” This seems to ease her. “Go get dressed and I will take care of breakfast.” She backs out of the kitchen without another word.

I shove the messy drops of chocolate chip cookies into the oven before heading to the fridge to find something to make us for breakfast. I push past the eggs and grab the milk and chocolate syrup. Hmmm. What to make?

I am finishing up the last touches of breakfast when Barbie comes back into the kitchen. She stands in the doorway, her hair is wet and tiny drips of water fall to the floor around her bare feet. She is wearing one of my old t-shirts she salvaged from Mom who was going to take them to the thrift store. It is a yellow Pac Man t-shirt; it is now my favorite shirt. She cut the neck out of it so that it hangs off her right shoulder, exposing the bronzed skin underneath. She has on a pair of cutoff shorts that on most girls would be a little too short, but on her, they are perfect. This is her and I love her for it. I want to drop to my knees and confess my love to her again, to beg her to take me back, again.

“Breakfast is served.” I motion to the island that holds a small buffet of two chocolate milks, warm chocolate chip cookies, and two large ice cream sundaes.

“Breakfast?” A smile tugs at the corner of her lips and I smile back.

“Yep, this is the breakfast of champions, and I thought that we would need one for the day’s plan.” I smile. She rolls her eyes and slips onto the stool and I follow, sitting next to her. I could have set us at the table, but then I would not be as close to her as I am now.

“Wouldn’t you like to put on some clothes?” She takes a bite out of a cookie.

“Na.” I stretch my arms above my head. “Unless it bothers you,” I challenge her leaning back.

“Psssh, whatever. I just thought you might get cold is all, but I guess you are used to it by now,” she teases me. She is giving me a glimpse of the old Barbie.

“What does that mean?” I ask.

“It is just that you have been walking around here like there is a shirt shortage going on.” Her lips are now spread into a big smile and I can’t help the smile that I return to her.

“Well, I was blessed with such beautiful abs, it would be wrong for me not to share this gift of beauty with the world.” I rub my hand across my stomach then dig into my own ice cream sundae. The witty banter keeps up between us as we eat. I try to eat slowly to prolong this moment, but the stupid sundae melts. After we have a race chugging the chocolate milk, which I win, I get dressed. If she is trying to be “friends” and willing to spend the day with me, I am going to take advantage of every second I have with her while trying to ensure she doesn’t come to her senses and runs. I have a day planed that she will not be able to escape from.

She sits on the edge of the chair, waiting for me to get dressed. She twirls a strip of pink hair in between her fingers and her right knee bounces up and down. She is nervous. “Ready?’ I break the deep thought she is in. She jumps like a kid who was just caught doing something naughty.

“What do you have planned?” She hesitates.

“It is a surprise.” I open the door and lead her out to our new beginning; however she hesitates again for a moment.

Things seem to go back to almost normal between us after she finally relents and goes with me. She relaxes, sitting next to me in the cab of my truck, her hair blowing around her as she hums to the radio. “I like your hair.” I reach over and finger a piece that blows across her shoulder. It is so soft in my fingers.

“Yeah?” She smoothes her hair back and out of my grasp. “I don’t know how much your mom appreciates it. I just…” She trails off and looks back out her window. Shit, I am losing her again; she was just about to open up to me, to stop hiding from me.

“What?” I encourage her turning down the radio.

“Nothing.” Her body goes rigid and I can feel the change in her mood. It travels through me, making me ache inside.

“No, don’t do that. Don’t hide from me. Friends, right? And friends share.”

She sighs. “I just couldn’t be something I am not. I tried it. I thought if I could just be what everyone else wanted, then I could keep Everett safe. That I could be happy and safe. I just couldn’t do it, you know?” I nod. I feel like she needs to say this and not hear my two cents. We ride in silence the rest of the way, no music, just the sound of the wind and the feel of her next to me. It is the best song I have ever experienced.

I park the truck close to the water and hop out, sliding on some dirt, trying to get to her side of the truck so I can open her door. She squints against the glare of the sun. “A lake? You brought me to a lake?”

“Not just any lake, my grandpa’s lake. You and I are going fishing.” I produce two fishing poles out of the back of my truck and a tackle box.

“You don’t take ladies fishing.” She crosses her arms and I see that flirtatious smile of hers, playing on her lips.

“I know that. That is why I am taking you.” I give her my best smiles as I march pass her. She punches me in the shoulder as she catches up with me.

“That’s for saying I am not a lady.” She punches me again. “And that is just because.” She smiles.

“You could have fooled me, you sure don’t hit like a lady.” I rub at my shoulder. “Now come on, the fish ain’t going to wait for you to try to get all pretty now.” She re-braids her hair as we walk towards the small, green canoe that bobs in the dark blue water before making a noise from the back of her throat, but she doesn’t hit me again.

“Well, don’t expect me to touch any worms.” She huffs as she climbs in the boat. I push off the shore and hop in on the other side of the boat. Picking up the ores, I begin to row us out to the middle.

She leans back and pulls her shirt up, exposing her midriff. I try not to stare at the soft skin or how she has one of those belly buttons that looks like a button. Not all the way in, but not all the way out, perfect like everything about her.

“I wish I wore my bathing suit, it is so hot.” She says squinting up at the sun.

“That has never stopped you before,” I say, remembering when she stripped down to almost nothing and jumped off that cliff.

“Well, that was before.” She sits up, pulling her shirt down.

“I think that is one of my favorite memories of you,” I confess. Her hands become suddenly very interesting to her.

“I knew it then, that I really liked you, when you jumped with me,” she says.

“Really?” I am shocked by her confession.

“Yeah, for like a split second then I came to my senses.” She looks up at me with a teasing smile.

Barbie baits her own hook, which is pretty impressive. This was mine and Grams special place and I have never taken anyone here before, not even Third. “Me and my Gram’s would come out here when she was alive. She was the one who taught me to fish.”

“That must have been wonderful to have someone to teach you to fish.” She frowns. Sometimes I forget what type of life she lived before coming to stay with us. My grandmother was such an important person in my life, I always knew I could go to her with any problems I had. I could talk to her about friends, girls, anything really. I wonder what advice she would have about Barbie. I am sure she would tell me to fight for her. “Don’t do that,” she says.

“What?” I lift the oars watching the water drip off into the water.

“Look like someone ran over your puppy. I didn’t make that comment about your grandmother so you would feel sorry for me, so don’t.” She reels her line in and tosses it back out into the lake.

“It is just hard for me to imagine my mother not caring what happened to me or not having a grandmother to turn to.”I say. She looks at me for a moment and I cannot tell what she is thinking. Maybe I should have kept my thoughts to myself.

Finally, she sets down the pole and leans back. “I never knew any different, it was always just me and then, eventually, Everett came along. I knew that my family was different on the first day of kindergarten. The other mothers where crying and taking pictures of their kids and I was all alone. No one took my picture. No one ever cried for me.” I hate that she had to go through that. I wish I could have sheltered her from the pain. “I don’t know why I am even telling you this.”

“Because we are friends, that’s why.” I reach over, putting my hand on her knee. My hands tingle from our skin touching. Can she feel that, too?