Barbie Girl (Baby Doll Series) (22 page)

“I am not going to hurt her!” I seethe. “I would never hurt her.” We glare at each other.

“Where are you parked?” Third asks, he does not make eye contact with me.

“What?” Roxie shrieks. “You cannot be serious.”

“Right over here.” I lead them to my truck and open the passenger side door.

Third slides her in, she grips his shirt tight, “I love him, Third.”

Third reaches over and buckles her up, “I know you do,” then he shuts the door and looks at me. For some reason I can’t make eye contact with him, I stare at my shoes. “She is pretty screwed up,” but we both knew that. “She deserves better,” another obvious statement.

“I know that.” Now I look up at him, his blue eyes trying to read me. I am not sure what to say so I just nod as to say thanks.

“I didn’t do it for you.”

Roxie has her hands across her chest but she doesn’t try to object as I drive off. I need to take care of her.

I drive around not knowing where to go, I thought about taking her back to my house, but did not know how I would sneak a drunken girl up the stairs without being caught. Mom has been hyper aware of my doings since she caught me and Katie in that awkward moment. So I just drive. Barbie is curled into a ball leaning against the window, every once in a while she lets out a whimper and tears slip through her closed eyes. I reach out to comfort her but bring my hand back and hold on tightly to the steering wheel. Somewhere between Colorado and Roosevelt Street she starts to talk again.

“I just want to be good enough for him,” she must still think she is talking to Third still. I don’t know what to say. “He deserve better.” I can no longer remain silent.

“Barbie, you are good enough. Actually you are better than me.” I think about how she took care of Third or the way she is so patient with Everett, and though I know nothing about her home, I have a feeling it is pretty screwed up. She faces all of this. She does not have it any easier at school, the names that are whispered behind her back, no friends. I might not have a lot but I always had Third to confide in, who does she have? I could not face that every day, she is the strongest person I know.

She shakes her head, “I cannot compete with her, she is smart, and pretty, she has perfect hair,” she sobs again, louder.

“No. You are all of those things, and more.”

I pull over into a nearby gas station and put my truck in park. “You are so much more Barbie.” I unbuckle and scoot across the bench seat and pull her into my arms. I want to make everything better for her. I want to take away my harsh words to her. I want to make us better. “But she has perfect natural red hair.” She looks up at me with watery red eyes.

“But you have this long blond hair that you don’t mind if I mess up,” I lace my finger in it.

She hiccups. “God I want to mess up your hair,” I say. “And these lips that drive me crazy and you smell like cotton candy. I love cotton candy,” I tell her.

“I like cotton candy too.” She hiccups before cuddling into my side. I run my finger over her shoulder loving the feel of her soft skin. Are all girls this soft? Her breathing slows down to an even beat and I love the sound of it. We can fix this.

3:29. the green numbers blink at me. I stiffen for a moment wondering whose car I am in. Whose arms I’m wrapped in? The smell of fresh cut grass and his shampoo fill the cab. He holds me close to his chest. He is breathing heavy. I want to stay with him, let him hold me. Let this feeling of happiness hold me. I can’t, it is false. He felt guilty for the downward spiral he saw me take.

I will never be a part of his life we are too different, too much hurt has passed between us. I sit up letting his hand drop behind me, he moans. I slip out of his lap, and carefully open the door to his truck. We are parked on the side of a seven eleven. My head pounds. I was stupid last night I let my emotion get the best of me. I let Tyler fill we with a false sense of serenity. I am stronger than that.

Dylan does not try to talk to me at school the following Monday. It was as if nothing happened that night. His arm is draped over Katie’s shoulders. A stab of pain runs through me.

“You are staring.”

I slam my locker shut. “I am not,” I protest.

“Yeah, then how come you look like you are about to ball?” Roxie asks. “Screw this; it’s time for some hair braiding and gut spilling.” She pulls me in to the nearest bathroom.

“But you said…”

She shakes her head. “I know what I said Barbie there is something you should know about me. I am a pathological liar,” she says no remorse in her tone. “Now spill.”

I take a deep breath, “I still care about him. It is driving me crazy. The other day when I woke up in his arms… I thought I could be stronger than this, but it kills me seeing him with her and I am the one that helped push them together.” Roxie hops onto the counter. I spill everything to Roxie, the tutoring, how I was pretending to be his girlfriend, the feeling that quickly developed, and since I am having a therapy session, I confess to her about my mother, Ronnie, how we stay at Mrs. Sophie’s most nights, about getting sick and staying at Third’s. She is quiet for a while. “I am pretty effed up. Huh?” I blow my nose for like the fifteenth time.

She hops down, “Pssh. Have you met me? Hi, effed up is my middle name,” she re-applies her black lipstick in the mirror. “You just sound like a girl who got a bad hand dealt to her; you had your heart broken when you let your guard down. It happens to the best of us.”

I hug her. “Thank you,” I choke.

“For what?” she pats me on my back.

“For listening. I never had a girlfriend before.”

She pats me on the back “Let’s not go jumping to conclusions.” But she tightens the hug.

* * *

I spin in front of the mirror. “I can’t believe it is me.” I am wearing a vintage nineteen fifties butter-cream colored tulle dress; it falls just below my knees. I found some pale blue ribbon in Mrs. Sophie’s old crafting stuff, and tied it around my waist.

“You look beautiful, Baby Doll,” my mother is standing in the doorway.

“Thanks.” I sit down on the bed.

She comes over and starts fingering my hair. “You look just like you daddy.”

I wouldn’t know. I’ve never even seen a picture of the man. He ran out before my momma could utter the words pregnant. “Did you love him?” I suddenly want to know.

“Who, your daddy?”

I shake my head yes wanting her to say yes so bad. “You can’t call what your daddy and I had love… We had fun though, and I got you out of it my beautiful baby doll.” Did my mother not see what everyone else saw, a lost scared girl, trying like hell to be strong? I absently tuck the pink strip of hair behind my ear. True love does not exist. “Here let me help you with your hair,” she takes the brush off the night stand and starts to brush at my hair. Her hands shake.

“I don’t ever think you have ever done this before,” I say. I close my eyes enjoying the feeling of her taking care of me. She stops and I lean against her and she pulls me into a weak hug. She smells like dove soap and cigarettes. I wonder who my mother would be if her momma stayed. It is hard to imagine her any other way than this. When I was little I would imagine a life were she would bake us chocolate chip cookies and walk us to the bus stop. That fantasy was quickly broken, when I found Everett crying on the floor as a baby and she was passed out next to him. I sit up letting go once again.

“There you go,” she pins the pink strip behind my ear. “I have something for you,” she gets up and leaves the room. I go back to the mirror to take one last look. I slip on the blue pep toe pumps I found at goodwill. My hair falls in loose waves around my shoulders. I decided to wear only a bit of shimmery gold powder on my eyes and a clear lip gloss.

My mother returns and holds out a thin silver bracelet, three small green stones are set in it. “It was your grandmother’s; you don’t know how many times I got close to pawning it.” She drops it into my hand. “Now you keep it. Hell, maybe you’ll be able to resist selling it better than me.” I take the bracelet stunned; I never had anything from my family. I’ve never met anyone of them. I feel like I hold a part of me I never knew existed.

Third is the first friend I have ever brought to my house. He stands in my yellowing kitchen. He has on a powder blue suit tuxedo with a white ruffled shirt.
I told Third my dress was vintage,
I guess he decided to go vintage too. I love it. “You look great,” I say.

He smiles, no more gold teeth. “I thought you would like it.”

I pin on the white carnation boutonniere on his jacket. My mother snaps pictures of us with Mrs. Cruz’s camera. Ronnie sits at the table sipping on his beer. “Mom, you are going to bring Everett over to Mrs. Sophie’s at six, right.” I fret. Everett sits on the carpet holding a plane he built from Legos. Some lady from the church picked her up for bingo night. I hated to leave Everett, but he would be okay for an hour. It is only an hour. “Well we better get going” I say to Third. He follows me into the leaving room. “Evie, I am going to prom,” I say. He looks up at me and touches the delicate fabric. “Third is taking me, can you believe it? Me at the prom,” I say kissing his blond head.

“Hey what’s up little man” Third holds out his fist for Everett to bump. Everett brings his small fist to Third’s and I cannot help but smile. I am going to be okay.

Third pulls the minivan into ‘Bennie’s Burgers’ and parks. “Wow you shouldn’t have,” I say dryly.

“I know my mom made these stupid reservations for this fancy restaurant, but I wanted to take you somewhere special to me. I hope you don’t mind.” He looks at his hands

“This is perfect, really sweet,” I smile at him.

“Really?” he asks wide-eyed like a little puppy

“Really, now get out and open my door,” I say.

I would have loved to go to a fancy restaurant; I have never been to one before, but Bennie’s is awesome, their slogan is if you can dream it we can make it. We ordered regular cheeseburger and fries, I got a large strawberry shake and a coke.

“This is so good,” I say around a mouth full of juicy burger.

“Heaven,” he replies, and he might just be right.

I pull at the bow tie; it feels like it is strangling me. Perspiration beads on my forehead, I wipe at it with the back of my hand. “Are you feeling okay?” Katie says between a
tight lip
smile. We have been posing in Katie’s front yard by the flowers, me behind her, her alone, her with all her friends.

“Linda, why don’t we let these kids get on,” Mr. Bloom says with a smooth southern accent.

She gives him a mechanical smile. I cringe. “Of course, dear,” she says coldly. Mrs. Bloom kisses Katie and then me on the check. I shiver from her cold lips.

“Now son, you take care of my daughter I expect you to be a complete gentleman to my little girl.” Mr. Bloom says. His teeth are so white they hurt my eyes.

“Daddy, Dylan is always a complete gentleman with me,” Katie says giving him a hug.

He chuckles, “Can’t blame me for looking out for my little princess.”

The limo is cool and I silently thank god, because I feel like I am going to pass out. Katie slides in next to me; her long-gloved hand reaches for mine. “Are you sure you feel okay, Baby? You look like you are about to puke,” Katie brows furrow.

“I got the cure for that,” Tyl
er pulls out a shiny flask. Cheer
s from a few of the other girls’ dates fill the cab. I take the flask, my stomach roiling against the heat from the liquor that hits it.

“Didn’t we take enough pictures,” I complain. Katie pulls me over to the black and metallic blue balloon arch.

“This is our junior prom it only happens once,” she says shortly.

I have dreamed for so long to be here with her, and here I am annoyed and in a bad mood. “You’re right, I am sorry.” I kiss her check, and stand and pose for more pictures.

I follow Katie around while she smiles and talks to her friends. “Let’s dance,” I don’t give her a chance to answer I pull her out to the dance floor. I wrap my arms around her and we sway to a slow song. Katie sighs and leans her head on my chest.

“This is nice,” she says. Is that my problem that this is nice and I am so used to the unexpected with Barbie that I am jaded against
anything normal?
I pull Katie closer. I want normal.

“This is nice,” I agree, nice and normal. I pull her in and kiss her, she responds to me kissing me back. Jasmine fills my head and the sickening feeling is back. I hear her laugh before I see her. I can’t move, as I watch Third twirl her around. He dips her low and she laughs. She looks different. Not like Katie in her slinky blue dress or her cream puff friends. Barbie looks classic like she was a cover model in the fifties. She wears a yellow dress, it hugs her waist and flows out around her hips, and a blue satin ribbon is wrapped around her waist. Her hair is in soft waves that frame her heart shaped face, she is beautiful.

“I don’t feel good,” I storm off the floor pulling Katie behind me.

“We have been sitting here all night,” Katie whines. “Is this because of Barbie?” Katie crosses her arms across her chest.