Barbie World (Baby Doll Series) (16 page)

BOOK: Barbie World (Baby Doll Series)
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Chapter 22.
Barbie

This chili is the hottest thing I have ever tasted in my life. We all sit around the table looking at the boiling lava in our bowls, not a single one of us daring to dig in after that first bite. “Don’t tell Mom and I will order Chinese food,” Mr. Knight says, pushing his bowl away with his eyes watering.

“Deal,” we all say at the same time. I stand up and begin to gather the bowls. Dylan grabs the same bowl as I and our fingers touch at the same time as a spark travels between our fingers. I let the bowl drop, yanking my hand away. Chili splatters across the table.

“I will help you with that.” Dylan smiles at me. Maybe he didn’t feel what I felt and it is all in my imagination.

Dylan helps me clean up the mess and he washes the bowls. I am towel drying them when I hear a horrific scream from Everett.

“What happened?” I round the corner to find Everett on the floor with his knees to his chest.

“I didn’t mean to.” Emmy’s face is scrunched up and big fat tears fall from her eyes.

“What happened, Emmy,” Dylan asks, getting to his knees.

Everett wails at the top of his lungs and I try to pick him up, but he is so tightly wrapped up that I can’t lift him, so I give up and sit on the floor next to him.

“He was building a castle with his Legos and I was dancing to a Rhianna video, “Mr. DJ” and I fell into them. I didn’t mean to. She buries her small face into her hands.

“It is okay, Emmy, you didn’t mean to.” Dylan lies on his side and pulls a pile of the discarded Legos to him. Everett, still bawling, looks up at Dylan. Dylan ignores the screaming and crying that Emmy is now doing and begins to build a red and yellow tower. “Do you know, Barbie, that I once won a Lego building contest?” I furrow my brows at him; we are in the middle of pure craziness and he wants to talk about some stupid contest. “Yeah, I won first place. I was the Lego building champion for building the Death Star in under twenty minutes.”

Everett unburies his face and looks at Dylan. I, too, blink at him in awe. When Everett has a meltdown, it usually takes me a good hour to coax him out of it. Everett wipes at his nose with the back of his hand. Even Emmy looks at Dylan, sniffling.

One Death Star later, I sit on the living room floor, my knees to my chest, eating a bowl of noodles.

“It is time for my favorite part,” Emmy squeals, passing out fortune cookies to each of us. “Here, Daddy, read mine.” She climbs onto her father’s lap.

“It says, you are a very loyal friend, and that is very true. Mine says, I am a very handsome fellow, well there is no denying that.” He smiles that turns into a yawn, stretching his legs out in front of him. Emmy follows suit and even I am feeling tired from all that food I just put away. “Okay, it’s time for this old man to hit the hay. Come on, my little sleeping beauty, it is off to bed. Come on, bud.” He stands up with Emmy in one arm and holds out his hand for Everett, who takes it loyally. “Night kids, don’t stay up too late,” he says and then Dylan and I are left alone.

A nervous energy settles in the room around us. “What does your fortune say?” he asks, spread out on the floor, his legs dangerously close to mine while a lock of hair hides his eyes. I want to lean over and push it out of his eyes.

I crack open the cookie to keep my hands busy. “The one you search for is closer than you think.” I swallow and stare at the small piece of white paper, afraid to make eye contact with him. I can feel his eyes burrowing into me.

A few moments go by before he finally speaks, “You have been a shitty friend, you need to make up to them for being a douche, and you need to start by saying you are sorry. I am sorry, Barbie.” I keep staring at the paper in my hand, the words blurring. Damn, stupid tears. “I know I need to make it up to you, for being an asshole to you. I thought we could start over and try to be friends one more time.”

“Dylan-”

“Friends. Let’s just try to be friends again. We never really got the chance to be friends.”

I bite on my bottom lip nervously. “Friends?” I make sure he really means it.

“Friends.”

“Okay,” I say reluctantly. He holds out his hand to shake my hand. I place it in his, once again, and ignore the flutter in my stomach. Here we go again.

###

“He wants to try to be friends,” I confess to Mrs. White. We are sitting on a park bench in the back courtyard of the building. Maybe it’s because I don’t feel so confined in the dark wooded room. Or, gasp, could it be because I kind of like Mrs. White and feel like I can trust her?

Mrs. White stretches her short legs out in front of her and I follow suit, tilting my head back and letting the sun warm my neck. “And how do you feel about that? After all, he did betray your trust. I mean, he told the police what you wouldn’t, and if he didn’t do that, your mother wouldn’t be in jail, Ronnie would probably come back around, and everything would go on like it had been.”

I look at her, now her head is tilted towards the sun and her eyes are squinted behind her round glasses. Damn, she has a point. “I am not mad anymore that he said something, I would have done the same thing.” I pull my knees to my chest, hugging them. “I know he didn’t have at choice. I would have done the same thing if I was him…I just don’t know if I can be friends with him without jeopardizing everything.”

“Ahhh… the turmoil of being young and in love.”

“I don’t love him,” I say, but I know that is a lie.

“You don’t?” She cocks an eyebrow.

“I don’t know.” I pull my knees tighter to my chest. “If I act on my feelings and his mother finds out… “ I shiver at the thought.

“What if you just try to be friends? What will that really hurt?” So much, however she is right. I could just be friends with him. He has always been my friend. I think back to the times he helped me and has seen me at my weakest; he was there for me through it all. I cannot let fear hold me back.

Just friends. I can try to do that.

###

I push the cart down the aisle while Roxie rides on the front of the cart, her butt sticking way out, her elbows propped on a case of soda. “I don’t see why you have to do the grocery shopping for the Brady bunch. Isn’t that Momma Knight’s job?”

I roll my eyes. “I am trying to be more helpful around the house. The Knights took us in and all, and so far I have been nothing but a burden.” I hate feeling that way, I never had to rely on anyone before and now I do.

Now it is Roxie’s turn to roll her eyes at me. “Please, you are not a burden, you are the most fun those lame asses have ever had, and if that bit-”

“Roxie,” I warn.

“Speaking of b of the itches, here comes their queen.”

I don’t need her to tell me who it is, I know by the sharp pain in my back from the daggers that are being sent my way. I turn around to see the ever perfect Katie standing behind me, holding a box of tissues in one hand and a shit load of junk food in the other. Her eyes are red and puffy; her hair is in a messy pot tail. She looks…human.

Uh-oh, what do I say to her? I feel like I need to say something, although I’m not sure what. We stare at each for what feels like forever. I know she is pissed that Dylan and I have been hanging out. He said she understood, but by the scowl she is looking at me with, I know that is not true. What girl wants their boyfriend hanging with the rumored town slut? She can’t even stand the thought of me and I don’t blame her because even though Dylan and I are just friends, I can’t stand the thought of Katie touching Dylan, either.

I don’t say anything and neither does she. She looks like she wants to cry as she tightens her grip on the bag of chips slipping from her arms and storms passed me, her loafers clicking frantically against the tile floor.

“Well, that was awkward. I thought she was going to pull that stick out of her butt and start beating you with it,” Roxie says. I push the cart a little farther.

“I have been hanging out with her boyfriend. Imagine what she is thinking. I don’t like her any more than you do, but try to have a little sympathy for her,” I say.

“Why? She has been nothing but nasty to you and anyone that dares to be different. Like she has any room to judge; her sister is the one who is flipping crazy,” Roxie retorts.

“Her sister? I didn’t know she had a sister?” I try to remember what I know about her. Besides her status at school for being a straight A, stuck up, know it all, I don’t really know her.

“Why am I not surprised that you don’t know her? I mean, I was practically begging you to be my friend and you didn’t even know my name.” Roxie sighs before explaining to me about Katie’s sister. “Katie has a sister, Ryan. She graduated two years ago and, well, she was freaking crazy like loopy-lou crazy. Like, trying to kill herself crazy.” Roxie hops down off the cart and grabs a box of
Apple Jacks
from the shelf and opens the box and begins to eat them out of the box. How do I not know her sister? Then again, Roxie is right; I never took the time to get to know anyone. Hell, Roxie, Third and Dylan are the first real friends I have ever made.

Then suddenly, it hits me. Katie doesn’t just seem like another face of as stuck up girl, now she seems like a girl with real problems, a girl with a crazy sister who is trying to hold it all together. I laugh because Katie Bloom and I might have more in common than we both would like. We just choose to express our issues in different ways. Me, I try to numb them all away and Katie hides behind a perfect external appearance of having it all together when she is coming apart at the seams.

I am all too aware that the façade doesn’t last long and Katie is about to crack. “I will be right back,” I tell Roxie. I walk away from the cart

“What the hell? Where are you going? You’re not going to kick her ass for giving you the stank eye, are you? Because, then I want to come and see,” Roxie calls after me.

“No, I am not going to kick her ass. Will you just grab some more cereal? I will be right back,” I call over my shoulder at her, picking up my pace.

I search the rows, looking for Katie, but they are fresh out of emotionally unstable red heads. I run out the automatic doors, almost taking out a bagger. “Sorry.” I call to him as I jog out into the parking lot.

I find Katie as she is unlocking her car and is about to get in. “Katie!” I shout across the parking lot. A few heads turn in my direction, including the one I am looking for. She sees me and her face does a sort of dance, at first she is in shock, her eyes go round as her mouth and then she pinches her face together, glaring at me in anger that then turns to fear. She begins to pull quickly on her door handle, trying to get in before I reach her, but in the process, she drops her bag and junk food goes rolling in all directions. She hesitates, debating on whether to leave it and bail or pick it up. In the end, the soothing, fatty balm of
Ben and Jerry’s
wins. She bends over and starts to pick up all her delicious treats.

I grab the bag of cheese puffs and hold it out for her. She snatches the bag away and glares at me. Damn, she is good at giving that look. I wonder if it comes naturally or if she has to practice at it.

“What?” she says through gritted teeth.

I falter for moment; do I really want to say anything to her at all? I don’t owe her anything. “I am sorry… it is not what you think. Dylan and I are just friends, nothing more.”

She looks shocked again, but replaces it with an angered look. “Bitch,” she hisses. “You are not sorry; you are probably doing a happy dance with him all the way to the bedroom.” She opens her car door and tosses the food in, not even watching where it lands. Damn the girl is pissed, she just baseball pitched a can of cheese into her new BMW, but her daddy would probably just buy her a new one if this one gets dirty. Besides, she has nothing to worry about.

I rub my arm where Dylan last touched me and the heat returns back to my lower stomach at merely the thought. Maybe she does have a reason to worry. “I know you are pissed, but really, we are just friends. We did not work out and he wants you, he always wanted you.” My stomach lurches at the thought.

She shakes her head and starts to laugh which turns quickly into sobs that rack her skinny body. Now this is awkward. I stand there with my hands at my side, not knowing what to do. She is really crying, like snot running down her beat red face, crying.

“You think I am crying over Dylan, don’t you?” She hiccups. I just stand here, too stunned to speak. “Well, I am not. Yeah, taking a break sucks, but I am actually relieved. I don’t have to deal with his pain in the ass moody self. God, he was giving me whiplash. No, Barbie.” She says my name like it is a disease. “I have more important shit than giving two craps if he is screwing you!”

I take a step back away from her, my cheeks flush with a new anger that is boiling in me and it has nothing to do with the girl standing next to me who looks like she wants to rip my head off. No, it has to do with the fact that Dylan lied to me! Okay, well, maybe he didn’t lie to me, but he didn’t offer up the information that Katie and him are on a “break.”

. “I didn’t know he broke up with you,” I say.

“We are on a break; he didn’t break up with me! I bet you can’t wait to try to wrap your skanky, little legs around him now! Or maybe now that he is available, it is not as fun for you! The chase is over!” she screams at me, getting us looks from people trying to load their groceries in peace.

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