Barbie World (Baby Doll Series) (8 page)

“You are late,” she says in a disdainful tone. “How was your night?” she continues icily.

Telling her I was late because I drove slower than normal to try and prolong my time with Barbie will not go over well. Or that I spent the night with her half naked in my truck. Yeah, not going to go over well. I push the images of Barbie pressed against me to the back of my mind. So I do what any other guy in my situation would do, I shrug and pull her into my arms. “You look pretty.”

I kiss her on her lips and she relaxes a little, letting the ice melt. She feels all wrong in my arms, too stiff, too hard.

“I am still mad at you,” she says, kissing me back, but I know she is lying.

Why do girls do say they are mad when really they aren’t? I bury my face in her neck; she smells wrong, thick like a flowered perfume. I am sure it was expensive and would drive some guy’s wild, but it makes my head spin and my stomach roll with nausea.

“We were supposed to meet everyone at the mall ten minutes ago.” She lingers in my arms.

“Why don’t we skip the mall and hang out here?” I am not in the mood to hang out with Katie’s friends. They are nice and all, but they blend together in a mass of gossip and loud, hyper talking creatures that frankly scares the crap out of me. I don’t even know their names, I think their names are Kristy or Maria, maybe Sally; something like that, but I am not sure and I really don’t care. Katie pulls out of my arms and runs a hand down the front of her pink polo shirt.

“Dylan, I told them we would be there.” Her voice hitches.

“Fine.” I try to avoid another fight. I don’t want it to lead back to Katie’s insecurities about Barbie. If she starts another fight, I might just tell her how I really feel this time.

“We can take my car; you did bring it back in good condition, right?” She bats her eyes at me.

“Of course.”

She looks me up and down, scrutinizing. “You didn’t let her ride in it?” I don’t answer. “Dylan!” she yells.

“She needed a ride, what was I supposed to do?” I say, defending my actions.

“God, what is it with you and her? Are you sleeping with her?” she chokes.

“No,” I answer quickly, but I can feel the familiar burn on my cheeks. It is the truth. We didn’t sleep together. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to, though. What does that make me? A male whore? A cheat? A shitty person? Yes. It makes me a shitty person who doesn’t even have the guts to do the right thing. Once again, I am reminded how messed up this situation is.

When I don’t say anything else Katie exhales. “Whatever. Let’s just go.”

###

Things remain icy between Katie and me. I can’t blame her, but I just can’t seem to make myself care that much, either. Shitty person. I tell myself to shut up. Sometimes you have to do things that you would not normally do for someone you love, and God I love Barbie.

I follow Katie around the mall like a mindless robot, holding bags of crap. I drop the bags on the ground and flop down in an oversized, hot pink couch in another store. How many things of lip gloss and lotion does one girl need?

“I know what you are thinking,” Katie’s friend sits down next to me and gives me a smile. She is the cute, quiet one that wears square glasses and has frizzy brown hair. “Alex,” she says. I cock my eyebrows in confusion. “My name, it is Alex.” I give her a smile.

“I know,” I say.

“No, you didn’t. It’s cool, though, I won’t tell.” I like this chick more and more by the second.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” I am. I never cared enough to get to know any of Katie’s friends. If Alex knows this, I wonder how many of her other friends are onto my act.

“Don’t be.” She flicks her hand, dismissing my apology. “Sometimes I even forget who we all are. We tend to blend together in a blur of Gap and gossip.” I now give her a truly genuine smile.

“There is just so much khaki and talking,” I confess.

“I know.” We both laugh. “I also know that you are torn between Katie and Barbie.” I give her a blank look so as not to give anything away. “I can’t even imagine being in love with two people at one time. What that must be doing to you.” She looks at me squarely and I can see the sincerity in her face so I confess what I have been holding in for so long.

“I just wish she would talk to me and tell me what is going on inside her head.” I admit to her. “Barbie,” I clarify who I am talking about.

She takes this in, nodding her head. “She has been through a lot.” I wonder how much of the truth she really knows about that night. It was in the local newspapers and the rumors traveled like they always do in a small town. “I can’t tell you what to do, but…” She trails of and gets a weird look on her face.

“But?” I coax her.

“It is not fair for anyone involved to string either of them along when you don’t know who you want for sure,” she says. I know who I want, but I don’t tell her this.

“I know, but what if that is what is expected of me?” I ask her. I wish I would have tried to talk to her before this because she is surprisingly easy to talk to. Now, it is too late and we will never be friends; her loyalty will rightfully remain with Katie.

“I know it is not easy and someone, if not more, is going to end up hurt, but you are going to have to follow what your heart is telling you.”

I smile at her. “You are a pretty cool chick. You know that?”

She smiles at me again, pushing her glasses that have slid down her nose back up. “Yeah, so I’ve been told.”

Chapter 8.
Barbie

I spend the next few days away from the Knights’ house as much as possible. I have spending my days with Kai. The days seem to fly by when I spend them with Kai. He is easy to be around. We mostly hang out in his garage; sometimes I sit and watch him play his guitar while he pours over lyrics he is writing or we sit around watching old movies. The first time we did this, I had a sharp pain in my chest at the memory of Dylan and me. That was our thing; we would watch his nerd movies and he would try to explain to me who was who or what was what. It is different with Kai, he puts on a movie and we watch in silence; there is no background story that he tries to explain and that is fine with me. I sit there, not really watching anyway, but lost deep in my thoughts. When I am with Kai there is little reminder of what I am trying to forget. There is no wonder where our feelings stand for each other. No pressure to make a choice that I don’t know if I can. So I push Dylan to the back of my mind and avoid him as much as possible, but it is not that easy to avoid him.

I leave the Knights as soon as I see Katie’s car creep into the driveway. I now stand in the street in front of Kai’s, debating my next move. I listen to the music spills from the beat up, old garage as I stand in the street staring in.

“Why hello, sweetheart, can I help you with anything?” a tall guy drawls. He wears ripped up jeans and a shirt that says ‘Death Dogs’ on it, he must be in Kai’s band. I have yet to meet the renowned ‘Death Dogs,’ but Kai talks about them all the time; so I feel like I know each of them. This must be Aiden the drummer and notorious flirt. “Maybe I can give you a tour of the band’s practice area? Perhaps the back room?” Aiden winks at me.

His comment snaps me out of the daze. I give the guy in front of me the once over, starting at his feet and let my eyes travel slowly up his body. I can tell he is uneasy under my inspection; his hands twitch at his sides and he looks back at the garage for help. Aiden is not bad looking, actually he is really hot. He has thick, black dreads to his chin and smooth, coco colored skin. I wonder if it is as soft as it looks. I step forward so I am right in front him and trail my finger down the front of his chest.

“What do you practice in the back room?” I look into his eyes, batting my lashes. I shock him with my bluntness; he stands frozen and I can see the blanks he is shooting up stairs while he tries to come up with a witty comeback.

“He practices his pickup lines in the mirror.” Kai walks out of the garage and leans against the corner of the house. He is shirtless; his chest is broad and goes into a narrow, well-molded waist. He has on a pair of faded black jeans that sit low on his hips. A black tattoo climbs out of the waist band of his boxers up his hip and disappears under his arm. Nice. I didn’t know he had a tattoo. Dylan doesn’t have any tattoos. What? Shut up.

“Oh yeah?” I give Aiden a seductive smile, my hand still on his chest.

“Go on, man, try one of them on her. Give her your best line.” Kai’s voice is light and teasing.

“Yes, give me your best.” I step up closer to him, smashing my body up against his.

“I-I-I… Um,” he stutters.

Kai laughs. “Is that your best line man, I-I-I-Um?”

Aiden looks from me to Kai who is bent over and has his hand pressed to his knees, laughing. “Screw you, man.” Aiden sulks back to the garage.

“You can show me that back room later, Aiden.” I wink at him. I walk up to Kai who puts his arm around my shoulders and leads me into the garage. I wonder if Dylan would be as cool with me flirting with another guy right in front of him as Kai is.

The band is not bad, but I am not so sure about their lyrics. Kai holds the mic to his mouth as he belts into it, looking right at me as he sings. I sit on a speaker and stare back at him. The melody has a melancholy tone to it and takes me back to the night with Dylan.

My body begins to jones for that spark that he causes. I have never felt it before Dylan; it is a feeling like no other. It is like when he touches me, he puts all his energy into his soul until it is charged and alive and racing through me, lighting me up from the inside out. His touch has the
power to make me feel everything and sooth the pain that comes with it. I want to feel that again. I wonder if anyone has the power to make me feel like that again or if it’s only Dylan. The thought scares me. That I could be connected to someone like that. That he could possess a piece of me like that.

I open my eyes; Kai is still looking at me, while in the middle of the song. I jump to my feet and cross the room. He drops the mic to the ground and I kiss him. I kiss him as hard as I can; I put everything I have into it. His band mates hoot and holler, but he doesn’t seem to notice because he puts everything he has back into the kiss, too. In this moment, I know for sure that I am damaged beyond repair. Dylan has tainted me.

###

I say good-bye to Kai who kisses me again and I let him. Even though I don’t feel anything except a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach, I know that he feels something. Shit. I slip in the back door to avoid the Knights, but in doing so, I am also avoiding Everett. My stomach tightens at the thought. I will make it up to him. I will take him out tomorrow, just me and him. We’ll go for ice cream and ride the elevators at the new law building on First Street—the tallest building in Phenix is on First. Hell, it is the only building that we have. It sits amongst old, short, brick buildings and looks so out of place in this small town. It is what attracts me to it. The look of not belonging, like it was just waiting for something better to come along. Nothing will, though. Everett loves to ride the glass elevator all the way to the top. At the last floor you can see all of Phenix City and far beyond. I can even see the path I will head when we leave this town.

I take off my shoes so they don’t make noise across the kitchen floor and bend over to pick them up.

“You were out late.”
Eeep
. I drop my shoes and they clatter against the wood floor, loud enough to wake the devil himself. So much for that plan.

“Dylan, you scared me.” I pick my shoes back up, my heart beating hard against my ribs. He flips on the kitchen light and for a moment I am blinded.
Geesh.
I shield my eyes against the light until they adjust.

“Sorry, I was just getting a drink.” He points at the fridge. “Want one?” he asks innocently. I am not fooled. I know there is a deeper motive to his actions.

“No,” I say, even though I am thirsty. He shrugs and walks to the fridge, pulling out a jug of apple juice while I eye him warily. He pours a glass and then downs it in one giant gulp before then pouring himself another, this time nursing it.

“So… where have you been?”

I bristle at his tone. “Who do you think you are, my father?”

He looks at me over the rim of his glass with his two warm pots of melted chocolate eyes. “No. I am your friend and I was just concerned.” Great now I feel like a complete bitch.

“Sorry.”

He puts the glass down on the counter. “You know, if we are going to be friends, you need to be a little more trusting of me. I am not out to get you.”

I sigh and walk over to the counter. There is a huge island that separates us, yet, my body is still pulled to him like a magnet. He has to feel this magnetic pull, too. I can see it in his posture. He grips the edge of the counter, holding on and he is slightly leaning forward, just like me. We stare at each other; our eyes saying it all, but our mouths pressed firmly shut.

“I miss you,” he says so quietly that I question if I even heard him or if it was all in my head. I miss him, too. I want to tell him that I wish things where not so complicated. He licks his lips and I pray he kisses me. Oh, please God, let him kiss me. One time and I promise it will be the last. If I can have him one more time. “Can we please just try and see what happens?” He is gripping onto the counter so tightly that his knuckles are turning blue. I fight the sensation to pull his finger away from their death grip and kiss each one of his knuckles.

“Dylan, you know I—” I start.

“Don’t say you can’t because you can. No matter how much you push me away, I am here. Doesn’t that count for something?” My eyes blur and I turn. I can’t deal with this. I can’t keep hurting myself or him. He has to let me go. It is what is best for everyone.

Dylan is faster than me and once again I find myself wrapped in his arms. “You can keep trying to push me away, but I will be right here. I will always be right here, waiting for you.” He is breathless.

“What is going on?” I jump out of Dylan’s arms so fast that I am clean across the kitchen, backing up into the table. Dylan looks at his mom and then at me, his eyes immediately filling back up with sadness.

“She tripped.” He looks at the ground.

“She tripped?” Mrs. Knight turns, suspicious of his excuse. I hold up my pink heels for good measure and shake my head yes, my throat swollen with fear. She looks back at Dylan one more time before clearing her throat. “Your dad has a hankering for Chicken Korma. I told him I would make him a ham sandwich. You want one? Dylan? Barbie?” We both shake our heads no. “No. No one?” She has suspicions, but does not say anything.

I hurry up the stairs, rush to my bedroom and close the door, leaning against it panting; I feel like heaving. That was close, too close. I tried to avoid him, but failed. Did I really try to avoid him, though? I could have left that kitchen, but my body refused to listen to my brain, wanting to feel him. I pack a bag and go back to Roxie’s house. I miss Everett, but it is better than risking things with Dylan.

###

Roxie drops me of in front of the tall office buildings. Here goes another long and brutal session with Mrs. White, but I am bound and determined to get the hell out of them so I have been going along with complying with her demands. One more month, that is all I have left.

When I walk into her office, Mrs. White is in her typical hippie attire, a long tie-dye dress and tan chunky sandals. “What’s your source of torture today?” I flop down in the chair.

She chuckles. “I like to think of it as me helping you, but if you’d rather think of it as torture then be my guest.”

I glare at her, not really in the mood for this shit, but here goes nothing. “Let’s just get this over with.” I feel like kicking my feet and throwing a fit like a little kid.

“Okay, I see you are in no joking mood. Why don’t you tell me what is bothering you?” I bite down on the side of my mouth, debating on if I should tell her what is bothering me or not. Shit. What the hell. She probably will find out anyway, the lady seems to know everything.

I sigh. “There was an incident.” I grimace at the way I make it sound. “It really was not even an incident, more of an accident,” I clarify.

“An Incident?” Her voice holds that quizzical tone to it.

“Well… um.” I hesitate. Now that I opened this can-o’-shit up I am not sure how much I am willing to share. I want to take my words back and hide them safely away where no one will ever hear. She looks at me with great interest through the dirty lenses of her glasses, so I sigh and continue, “Between Dylan and I.” Her thin lips forms an “o” on them, but she remains silent. I roll my eyes at her dramatics and continue my walk down ahhh shit road. “He sort of found me at my old house and I was sort of freaking out.” I look down at my feet and dig the toe of my boot into the tile. I wish I could dig a hole through them, splintering the wood and escaping through it.

“And what happened when he found you?” she asks, her elbows now propped up on her desk.

I shrug. “I broke a window, he gave me a rag for my hand and we fell asleep in his truck. The end.” I am not about to tell her what happened before we fell asleep. Some things, I will keep to myself.

She sits on that for a moment before she asks. “Out of curiosity. What made you go back to that place? A place that holds so much hurt for you.”

I find a lose string that tickles at my leg and pull on it until it splits the seam that holds one of the ruffles to the cotton skirt I wear. I feel like this seam is ready to come undone, holding on by a thin string, just waiting for someone to come along and pull. I will then be exposed to the world, no secrets. I am so afraid that when I do come undone, I will not be fixable. That I will always be a rip in this world. Damaged.

“At first, it was just out of habit that I started walking there, but then… I don’t know. I tried to justify it; that I was going to check on Mrs. Sophie.”

She nods. “The neighbor that used to take you in at times?” Damn, she knows a lot.

“Yes, but that is not why I was going that way. Deep down, I knew that I was going that way for one reason and it was not to check on poor, old Mrs. Sophie. I wanted to see the house; to see if it was really as bad as I remembered.” I poke at the new hole in my skirt until I find skin, then I make small x’s with my finger nail in the soft, fleshy meat. One after the other.

“Was it as bad as you remember?”

Much worse. “Yes,” I say softly.

Mrs. White is silent for a moment, thinking. “You understand that the house itself is only a representation of what happened there that night? ‘Freaking out’ on it does not change or help you deal with the deeper issues. Do you want to know why I think you went there?” I look up at her. I can feel the salty burn form in the back of my throat. “I think you went there for an explanation. You wanted to know why. Why the things that happened to you were allowed to happen. Why the one person who was supposed to protect you chose not to.” She is right. Her words are right and I hate her for being right. I am filled with so much hate; slowly filling up until I will be cold as stone, unable to feel anything ever again. “You know there is only one person that can answer those questions and bring the closure you want. Don’t you?” I do know that. I know that beating up on a house will not answer any of the questions I have. I know that there is only one person that can, and it has been that person I have refused to see. My mother.