Barbie World (Baby Doll Series) Read online

  “Do you think that our destiny is written in the stars?” He holds his hand up in the air, grasping at the sky like he can catch one of the stars and put it in his pocket.

  “I think you are drunk.” I laugh. My head is fuzzy and my body is warm from the liquor.

  “Yeah, and this time is way better than the last time. So much more enlightening, like I know why we are put on this earth. What our great purpose is,” he says, dropping his hand down by his side.

  “Yeah, what’s that, Aristotle?”

  He turns to me, giving a big, goofy smile. “Love. We are all here to love one another and until we can accept that love, we will never be at peace… and wh-is-ky!” He punches the air, then lets out a belly laugh. “And pizza. Yeah, pizza is good.” My drunken philosopher might be on to something.

  “Come on, let’s get you home and see if we can sneak you in without getting caught.”

  “B?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I think you might be my best friend.” He smiles. “But shhhh… don’t tell Dylan. Shhhh… “ He puts his finger to my lips. I stand up, pulling him with me. “Hey, why is my foot cold?” We both laugh out loud as we walk together, leaning on each other for support. “You know what? I love her.” Third comes to a halt. I shake my head at his statement and we start walking again. I don’t want him to get hurt, but I don’t think that there is any way to protect him. He is going to feel the pain of a broken heart and there is nothing I can do about it. “I do. I love her.” He stops walking again, jolting me to a halt. We are stand in the middle of a dirt road; trees line either side of us with moss covered limbs. “Come on, B; let’s scream it from the top of our lungs. Let’s put it out in the world for all to hear.” He spins in a wobbly circle. If he falls down again, I don’t know if he is going to get back up.

  “Let’s not.” I try to pull on his arm to get him walking again. No luck; the kid is like trying to move a boulder.

  “B, you need to start living. Stop thinking about what might happen.” God, he is right. I hate that he is right.

  “No one is going to hear us out here, besides the sleeping squirrels.” I point out to him.

  “I don’t care. I will scream it for the squirrels. I LOVE HER, SQUIRRLES! DO YOU HEAR THAT? I AM IN LOVE WITH THE WEIRDEST GIRL I KNOW AND SHE IS PERFECT FOR ME!” he bellows into the night before he turns to me. “Come on and let it out. That felt great.” He spins me in a circle. I tilt my head back, letting the moment swallow me. The stars blur against the velvet sky. I’m unsure I can ever let go or stop spinning because when I let go, I might not be able to stop. I’m afraid what might come out when I speak, but he is looking at me with those watery eyes. Dammit, how can I deny him?

  I tilt my head back, opening my arms and scream, “I AM IN LOVE WITH A BOY I CANNOT HAVE! I NEED HIM SO BAD THAT IT IS KILLING ME INSIDE. MY MOTHER LEFT ME. SHE NEVER LOVED ME!” Bending at the waist, I scream again and again until I am purged from the poison inside of me. I am clean for now. I want to collapse into the dirt and let the black night swallow me whole, becoming one of the glistening freckles in the night sky. I gave over my truth to the night.

  “See, that was not so bad.” He drapes his arm over me. Third is too drunk to understand the wound my confession left. That I released my truth out in the universe for anyone to find and hurt me with. If he only knew what I had just done.

  ###

  I push against Third’s backside with both hands planted firmly on each one of his cheeks. He hangs half way out of his bedroom window. It seem like a good idea at the time, yet sneaking him in through the painfully too small window is not as easy as the whiskey led me to believe. His feet flay dangerously close to my face. I duck out of the way and give one more shove before he slips through with a loud thunk to the floor below. I can hear his fit of giggles on the other side. At this rate, it would have been easier to go knocking on the front door and announce that we are plastered.

  “Hey, help me up!” I call to him. His face appears at the window sill. His eyes are squinty and he is still laughing.

  “Will you stop laughing and help me up?”

  He sticks his arms out the window lazily. I grab a hold of his hands, placing both my feet firmly on the wall and walk up it like I am Spiderman. See what hanging out with this boy is doing to me? I actually know who Spiderman is. If I start to quote, The Avengers… so help me. I manage to get my hips on the window ledge before Third flops to the floor. I shimmy the rest of the way in, falling on top of him. When I roll over so I am lying on the floor next to him, we both begin uncontrollably laughing.

  I try to quiet us by placing a hand over his mouth. “Shhhh. Ewww! You just licked me!” I yank my hand back.

  “I wanted to see if you tasted like cotton candy. You smell like it, but you don’t. You taste kind of salty, like popcorn.” He scrunches his nose. “Do you think Roxie tastes like frosting? She smells like frosting, like a delicious cupcake.”

  I roll over, get to my knees and look down at him. He is still squinty eyed. “Here is a tip, lover boy. Don’t go randomly licking girls. We don’t like it.”

  I leave Third sprawled on his bedroom floor and sneak into the kitchen, carefully avoiding the squeaky spots on the floor. I get a glass out of the cupboard and fill it with water. I toss back the glass, down the whole thing and fill it again. My head still feels fuzzy, but the water helps me feel a little clearer. I don’t want to have to climb up that tree drunk. I would probably break my neck. I take the glass of water and a few aspirin that I find in a drawer back to Third. He has managed to, thankfully, get himself into bed. He is sprawled out face down in his whitey-tighties and I can hear a small, muffled snore escaping from under the pillow. I leave the water and pills on his nightstand; he is going to need them in the morning.

  I dig his phone out from his discarded jeans. It blinks at me with three missed calls from Dylan. My pulse picks up with the thought of him. He was checking on me. No. That’s not right. Third was his friend long before I came into the picture. I put the cell phone next to his face on the pillow. Pushing his damp hair off his forehead, I kiss Third and slip back out the window. Call it muscle memory or my sadistic side calling to me, but my feet take the worn and familiar path and, before I realize it, they have carried me to an all too familiar place.

  Chapter 5.

  Dylan

  My lips feel numb and not in a good way. Not like before when they would be swollen from kissing Barbie. No, now they are swollen from the abuse Katie is putting them through. She bites at my bottom lip before sucking it between her teeth. I didn’t know it was possible, but I think I might have a hickey on my lip.

  “Tell me what you are thinking about.” She goes for my neck, biting it like a damn vampire. I slip my hand between her fangs and my tender, vulnerable neck.

  “I don’t know. I guess that we never really talk.”

  She sits up. “What? Talk?” she says breathless at this new concept.

  “Yeah, you know, talk. Like forming words with our mouth. Discussing feeling, thoughts… Current world topics. How about the Middle East? What are your thoughts on that?”

  She rolls her eyes. “I know what talking is Dylan. I am not dumb,” she snaps.

  “It’s just that we never really get to… talk. We are always with your friends and who can get a single word in with them. Or in your bedroom. I mean, there is more to being in a relationship than making out and listening to you and your friends talk.”

  She huffs and then gets off me. “Fine, let’s talk. What do you want to talk about?” She crosses her legs, swinging one of them wildly.

  “Hobbies! Do you have any hobbies?” I ask. It’s the first thing that comes to mind.

  She rolls her eyes again. “You know my hobbies. I go to school. I am on the debate team, student government and swim team.” I knew all this about her. It was part of the reason why I was so attracted to her.

  “Cool, anything else.” I don’t really care. I just need to gi
ve my throbbing lips a break.

  “Yes, but you know that as well,” I give her a blank look. She sighs through her nose and continues, “I am taking SAT prep class again, I guess that qualifies as a hobby.” she sounds aggravated. Wow, does she do anything else besides study and school? What about just relaxing, watching a movie or something. Let her hair down. “Dylan, I don’t understand. Here I am, making out with you, but you are somewhere far away; not with me and now you want to talk about our hobbies!” Oh great, here comes the water works I have been trying to avoid. “Who are you thinking about when you go someplace else? I am not stupid, you are thinking about her, aren’t you?” she quizzes me.

  I don’t answer and we stare at each other in an uncomfortable silence. I feel the truth roll around in my mouth; I play with it, rolling it back and forth with my tongue. I should just tell her and get the inevitable truth out of the way.

  I am about to tell her when I am saved by my phone ringing in my pocket. I pull it out and answer. “D.D.D.DYL-AN!” Third yells into the phone to the Batman theme.

  “Third, I have been trying to call you. Where are you?” I look over my shoulder at Katie who is eyeing me suspiciously. “How is… um… everything?” I ask, trying not to be too obvious; hoping when I say “everything” he gets that I mean Barbie. Too late, Katie scoots across the bed, sitting behind me she begins to play with the hair that curls at the base of my neck.

  “Dylan. Dylan. My friend. My amigo. My BFF,” he slurs into the phone.

  “Third!” I cut him off. He is avoiding the subject when I need him to tell me what’s going on with Barbie and he sounds like he is drunk. Either way, it is not good.

  “I tried to do what you told me! I really did,” Third whispers very breathy into the phone. I need to strain to make sense of what he is saying. “You’re not going to kick my ass, are you?” he whimpers.

  I spin my legs off the bed. “Third, where is she?” I say calmly into the receiver.

  “I don’t know. I woke up and she was gone,” he cries. I push Katie’s hand off my neck and start to put on my shoes.

  “Where are you going?” Katie asks.

  “I am not going to kick your ass. Did she say anything to you before you fell asleep?” I ask Third, needing a hint on where she may have gone. Maybe she went home, but my gut is telling me that is the last place she wants to be at the moment.

  Third breathes heavily into the phone. “She said not to lick her.” He giggles into the phone.

  “What the hell, dude? You licked her?” I am on my feet, looking for where I put my keys. Shit, where are they.

  “Oh, man. You are going to kick my ass now, aren’t you?” Third sobs.

  “No. I am not, but I will if you lick her again.” I spin around the room. “I just need to find her.” There they are; on Katie’s dresser. Third is still sobbing into the phone. “Go back to sleep. I will find her.” I hang up. I will deal with him later. Now, my only concern is to find Barbie.

  “Katie.” I lean in to kiss her cheek and she pulls away.

  “Don’t go,” she says and her eyes swell. “Stay with me.” Her green eyes beg me.

  “I have to go find her,” I say simply.

  “Why?” Katie’s voice is on the verge of hysteria.

  “Because I just do.” It is the truth. It is not something I can explain, I only know that I have to ensure she is okay. I feel unease when I don’t know where she is, or if she is safe.

  “I hate this. I hate that she demands your attention. She can take care of herself, Dylan. I know you feel this guilt for what happened to her, but that is not your fault. She is really messed up. Don’t let her bring you into her world and screw up your life, too, Dylan. She is going nowhere.” My cheeks burn with Katie’s words. They piss me off. She doesn’t know how far into her world I actually am or want to be. “I wish your mom never took them in. How do you think it makes me feel, knowing that Phenix City’s biggest whore is sleeping only a few rooms away from my boyfriend?”

  I run my hands through my hair. “Katie, you are not making this easy on me.” I grab my keys.

  “She is a whore!” she yells at me.

  “She is not a whore!” I say, now angry at her.

  “She is and you can’t tell me she is not. You heard the rumors about her.” Katie stands up and walks over to me.

  “That is why they are called rumors, Katie. They are not true,” I snap, defending my heart.

  “Dylan, I don’t want to fight. Just stay with me and let’s see what happens.” She flutters her eyes at me. God. She is baiting me with the possibility of sex and yet she is calling Barbie the whore.

  “I have to go,” I say simply and walk out the door.

  I make a loop around the park that separates Third’s neighborhood and Barbie’s old one. A storm growls outside, building with my anticipation. I know where she is. I am just wishfully thinking that she wouldn’t taunt the dark memories that follow her like a parasite, however I know my girl and the humming sensation on my skin is never wrong. My heart is like a radar for her; it slams against my chest as I drive closer. I come to life whenever she is near.

  I turn down the dark road. It is a different world than the safe, cushiony one that I reside in. A car passes me with its windows down, base rumbling the street. I don’t make eye contact with the driver; instead, I take in the rundown houses that line the streets. The houses here tell a story that no one gives a damn what is happening around them. I turn once more down her old road when the storm no longer holds back and lets out a roar overhead. Moments later, I see her standing perfectly still and I can’t even tell if she is breathing. I stop the car keeping my headlights on her. I want to go and get her, rescue her, but I hold back; I think she needs this. There are emotions crashing into her I cannot explain. This is one storm that I cannot outrun for her. I have a feeling we are both going to get wet. And like the storm over head, something in her snaps and she wages war on the house. I know it must have been filled with horrors. Horrors I cannot even imagine.

  Chapter 6.

  Barbie

  I have not been back here since that night. The sky turns dark, but even the earth’s shaking groans from overhead do not deter me. I remain in the same position. I am frozen; unable to move. Tears that I did not realize I had been crying have long dried to my face. Music of a passing car rattles the windows of the old houses, a dog barks in the distance; sounds that were once soothing to me are now frightening to the point that I am being paralyzed.

  My mind is still foggy from the alcohol, making it seem like a good idea to come and check on Mrs. Sophie. Or, so that is what I told myself I was doing. I have not even been around to see her since everything happened. A pang of guilt fills me, she was always there for me when I needed a safe place to go and I just left and put the thought of her to the back of my mind. I have been living in this false pretense of being safe. Safe? Really, how safe am I? When is the other shoe going to drop and the Knights send me packing?

  When I stepped onto the familiar street, the memories of that night come to me fast; freezing me into place, crashing into me. I am drowning in them and my arms and feet are too waterlogged to kick to the surface. I try to keep my eyes trained on Mrs. Sophie’s windows and breathe, yet I can feel myself coming undone at the seams, the chip in my foundation cracking. There is an electric charge to the hot night air tonight; I feel it pricking at my skin, choking me. It is almost too much for me to take. I can feel the house behind me bearing down on me with its filthy secrets; ones that it tried to keep hidden from the world.

  I turn to face my tormentor; it stands the same as the night I left it behind. Mocking me with a sneer. While I crumbled apart, it stood mighty, just as I left it on that night. It’s chipping grey paint, the skeleton fence that wraps around its self, a rusty gate creaking against the wind, along with the sad excuse of a lawn that alternates between weeds and dirt patches.

  The screen door slams against the ghostly house and, each time,
I jump at the crashing sound. I can hear his boots behind me. I can still feel the rawness of that night on my skin. I can hear my mother begging him to stop, her black, mooned eyes that are too high to really comprehend what is happening. Then I see the terror in Everett’s eyes and I cannot hold back. I scream from the top of my lungs, this time not for joy. I scream for all the pain I have ever felt. I scream for the abandonment that I struggle with every day. For not feeling worthy of my mother’s love. For feeling like I deserved what happened to me.

  I storm into the yard, kicking at the gate and screaming into the emptiness. Wanting those ghosts to fear me, to run and hide from me. I scream at the house. I want it to fight back. I want something other than the silence it offers me. “WHY?” I scream, throwing the nearest thing I can find—a rusty beer can that must have been consumed by my mother or him, at one time. It hits the house and falls to the ground while the house remains a silent structure. “Come on,” I scream, balling up my fist. “You want me? Because here I am. Fight back. You took everything from me,” I scream.

  I don’t care who can hear me, I am so angry. I am mad at what the house represents; it stands solid when it should be burnt to the ground. I am so angry at my mother for allowing herself to become what she is. I am mad at myself for not changing my fate somehow. I rake my finger down the side of the house, welcoming the pain that shoots through my fingertips. I scream, wanting to wake the world. I want someone to hear me. To understand what I am going through.

  Someone or something does hear me because the Heavens open up and they pour down on me. Despite the rain, I continue my fight with the house, punching and kicking at the splintering wood until my hands feel raw and bloody and my feet ache.

  Headlights fall on me between the sheets of rain, illuminating the world I am trapped in. I don’t care who sees me, though, I continue my war on the house. I make my way around it, pounding on the back door. It’s not until my fist hits a window, shattering it, that I pause for a moment to take a deep inhale of breath and stare at the blood dripping down my fists. Stunned, I collapse to my knees, letting the mud and gravel dig into them. I know Dylan is out there watching me. I can tell whenever he is around because my skin comes alive with anticipation that it might come in contact with his. He doesn’t come near, however, he just watches from the shadows where I can’t see him. He is probably fearful that I might hurt myself or someone else.