Barbie Girl (Baby Doll Series) (16 page)

“Fine,
” I leave Dylan standing at his truck praying he does not pull a stubborn boy move and follow me. I walk in the light of his headlights until I disappear over the knoll.

I push the door open with my foot. Shifting Everett to the other arm, he is tiny but he is starting to get too heavy for me to carry. The house is dark. Momma must be at work, her shift started an hour ago. I make my way in the dark back to the bedroom and put Everett in bed. I pull of his Spiderman sneakers and tuck him in. He still has glitter on his eyes. I shake my head. Emmy sure loves to play dress up. Everett didn’t mind. Dylan showed him his Lego collection. I didn’t point out that he is a seventeen-year-old boy and he has a
Star Wars
Lego collection. It warmed my heart watching Everett light up as Dylan explained each figurine to him.

I take a pair of sleep pants and an old T-shirt out of my dresser and head to the bathroom flicking the hallway light on. There is a stark difference in comparison to the one that lines my house. There are no happy photos of a family, or bright, cheerful yellow paint. I open the bathroom door flipping on the florescent overhead light and my heart stops. “Momma?” I drop the clothes in my hand and run over to her. “Momma,” I get on my knees and pick up her head and it lolls around. “Oh god. Oh god. Please. Please. Momma, please,” I beg her.

But she is unresponsive to my pleading. Her body is limp, and cold in my arms. Her skin has a blue hue to it. She still wears her uniform; she must have never made it in. I pull her to me hugging
her trying to hear her breathe, s
eeing if she is dead. Please don’t be dead. I still need you.
We still need you
. Tears blur my vision. I have nightmares about this very thing, finding her dead. Over dosed. Heart stopped. What I would do, how I would tell Everett that our momma just didn’t love us enough. But I am not ready. Not prepared for this. Her chest rises in one shallow breath. She is alive. A sob escapes me; she is alive, but barely. I put my hand to her chest and feel the slow beat of her heart. “Momma,” I shake her, trying to wake her. I need to get her moving. Her heart starts to beat faster. “Come on Momma,” I shake her harder.

She mumbles something incomprehensible. I lift her up, she is a dead weight but I manage to drag her so she is propped up against the tub. What did she take? I scan the bathroom for what might have poisoned her. I don’t see anything in here that she could have taken. I open drawers, pull the towels from under the sink. Nothing. I should call for an ambulance, but what would happen with Everett; surely protective services will get involved. I cannot lose him. What would he do without me? He needs me. Whatever is in her system needs to come out. “Okay come on Momma. Whatever you took we need to get rid of.” I try not to think about what I have to do next. I hold her head steady in my hand and open her mouth sticking my finger down her throat. She gags but nothing happens. “Come on, Momma. Please. I stick my finger down deeper. This time she vomits I lean her over the tub as she vomits. “Good, Momma, good.” I coach her. I do it two more times making sure her stomach is empty. She is still lethargic and unresponsive but her breathing has quickened. I need to get her moving. I need to get her up. I pull her arm over my shoulder and try to get her to her feet, “Come on, Momma,” I say again. She is only five foot two and ninety pounds soaking wet, but she is dead to the world and it adds on another fifty. I stumble forward as I try to move her. When I get her up it takes all my strength to keep her up. “Momma we got to walk,” I tell her even though she cannot understand me. “Wake up, Momma.” I try to get her walking. If I can get her walking then maybe she will be okay. I half carry, half drag her out into the hall. I lean against the wall with her catching my breath before I continue on. I think about the photo of Dylan’s family, how they all seem to love each other. I bet he never had to try to save his mother from a near over dose.

She starts to stumble under me, her feet trying to walk. She is starting to come around. I have to keep her walking until I know she is not going to die on me. I coax her down the hall. I hit the light switch in the kitchen. I see what tried to kill her tonight. A white straw with red and blue lines sits next to a plate with white residue on it. Damn I am so angry, I want to scream. She never had tried anything like this before Ronnie. Now he has her snorting the damn pills nearly killing herself. Where the hell is he, now that she was dying? I am mad at Momma for doing this. I hate her as much as I hate him. Thank god Everett is asleep so he does not have to see his mother the addict. I hate her.

I wake and immediately reach over to feel the rise and fall of her chest, her heart beats to a steady rhythm. After I was sure she wasn’t going to die. I put her in bed and searched the whole entire house pulling random items from there spot leaving them where they might fall. I was on a mission to purge this house of anything that she might use to get high. I even dumped the bleach in a panicked state down the drain. She can’t kill herself. Not yet. No, she has to wait until I am old enough that the state will not take Everett from me. Then she can do whatever she wants. She can kill herself for all I care. She mumbles something in her sleep and I snuggle up to her wanting to feel the warmth of her body. But she is ice cold. I wrap my arm over her and try to warm her up. I fall back into a dreamless sleep listening to the beat of her heart.

When I wake again it is to Everett tapping me on the leg. Momma still breathes. Alive. “Hey buddy,” my voice holds a raspy quality to it from all the tears that I shed last night. He points to me and then to Momma. He wants to know why I am in her bed. He has never seen me touch my mother let along snuggled up in bed with her.

“Momma is not feeling well,” I offer him. He looks to the corner of the room tapping his fingers against his leg processing what I just told him. It is if he is playing an invisible piano with his fingers and he is the only one that can hear the music. I wish I could know what he thinks, how he feels. What does he make of this situation? I roll away from Momma and pull him onto the bed with me. He lies there, still, and steady.

It bothers the shit out of me that Barbie did not want me to know where she lives. It makes me wonder what she is hiding from me. Is she embarrassed to be with me? I think how she seems not to care who at school knows about us, freely kissing me, holding my hand as we walk in the hallways. I am being ridiculous. She wants to be with me. There is something else going on with her and I am determined to get to the bottom of it. I will ask her when I see her at lunch. She will not be happy about me bringing up the subject but I need to know.

“Dylan you will be paired with Katie. Get your books and move to the front please,” Mrs. English announces. I grab my books and shuffle to the front. I would have given anything to be paired with Katie last week, but now all I can do is dwell on Barbie. I slide in next to Katie. She wears her pink cardigan the one I used to love. I watch as she writes in perfect handwriting the instructions for the lab we are working on.

I pour in the clear liquid to the beacon. We are to figure out the elements that we are using by mixing the ingredients properly and analyzing the results of the finished project. Simple.

“It says three quarters,” Katie says, she is keeping a journal of our experiment.

“Huh?” I look at her

“The instructions say to add three quarters and you just added about two cups,” she points to the beacon that is about to spill over.

“Oh, sorry,
I am distracted,” I say pouring some of the liquid back.

“Trouble in paradise?” she smirks.

“No. well…okay you’re a girl. What does it mean when a girl will not let her boyfriend come to her house?” I run my hand through my hair. I hope the secret ingredient to this is not hair remover.

“Um… thanks…I think” she replies. “I don’t know protective parents. Crazy ex-boyfriend…Deranged drug dealer.” I ignore the last remark about Barbie, because I know she does not do drugs at least not when I am around.

“Dylan, Barbie has a reputation you know that.” She stops writing and looks at me. “Who know why she does not want you around,” she shrugs.

“She is not messing around with anybody else,” I say reassuring myself. Maybe asking Katie was a bad idea. I don’t know how thrilled Barbie would be telling Katie our problems.

“If you say so,” she shrugs again. “All I know is if I had a boyfriend like you I would not be hiding you.”

Barbie is not hiding me. Is she?

Barbie is waiting at her locker. As I walk up Tyler has one of his arms up over Barbie as she leans her back against her locker. Her hair pulled back exposing her long neck. She wears a loose white T-shirt that hangs off one shoulder, black leggings and her purple wedges that make her as tall as me. Katie’s words swim in my head, maybe she was right. Tyler tucks the strip of pink hair behind her ear. Anger flares inside of me. My possessive side that I never had before Barbie is back for a visit. Tyler is more her type, the complete opposite of me. I am stupid for thinking this could work out. As if she can hear my thought her eyes catch mine as I walk up. She keeps them on me; a coy smile plays on her face.

“Hi Tyler,” I walk past him and pull her to me and gently kiss her. She kisses me back completely relaxed in my arms. Letting the fireworks burn any doubt about us away.

“I’ll catch you later,” Tyler stomps off pouting.
Good she is mine
.

“What is his problem?” I ask even though I know the reason.

“You just proved to him why I am with you.” She kisses me back and my chest swells.

“Yeah…and why is that?” I ask as she kisses me again.

“Well for one, when I kiss you these little sparks travel through my body.”

I step closer backing her into the locker. “Yeah?” I kiss the side of her mouth.

“Yeah,” her voice sounds husky.

“And when you are this close I lose all reasoning,” I kiss her again wanting to take her further than I had before.

* * *

Barbie’s bare feet are crossed at the ankles my lap. I try to go over this week’s homework; she has her head resting on her text book. She draws a little bird on her pointer finger with a pen. I toss my book aside and lay down next her.

“Do you even listen when I speak?” I rub my hand up her leg.

“Of course I do. You sound a lot like when the teacher speaks on Charlie Brown,” she gives me a wicked grin.

“Oh really,” I grab her side tickling her, loving the way she squirms under me and the sound of her giggle.

“Okay, okay, truth. I will behave and listen.” She shifts her body swinging one leg over me so that she is straddling my chest. I move her hair out of her face so I can see her deep blue eyes. “Do you trust me?” she smiles.

With every part of me
,
“Ummm…”

She pushes me in the arm. “Just close your eyes. All the way—”

I shut my eyes. My breath hitches as she does an exotic dance with her fingers moving them down my chin and neck. She makes me feel things I have never felt before. And a deep moan escapes me. I feel alive when I am with her. Her fingers run the outline of my lips making them spark alive.

“Okay open your eyes,” she whispers in my ear chills run down my spine. I open my eyes and she holds a small compact mirror for me “You look very distinguished,” she laughs.

On my face she drew a handle bar mustache in blue ink above my lip, I reach out to grab her but she wiggles free, hopping to the ground. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you payback is a bitch?” I jump to my feet and chase after her. She squeals and darts between the trees. She is fast flittering between trees just barely out of my reach. I chase her to the back of the orchard; I have her cornered between two trees and a fence.

“Just remember I love you,” she says holding up one of her small hands.

My heart stops beating. She loves me. And I love her. I think I love her more than anyone else in my life. And I want to tell her how I feel, but I can’t. “If I give up you have to promise to be nice.” She grips her side. “Trust me,” I smirk at her.

“I trust you,” she takes a tentative step toward me.

“Wrong move,” I dart forward scooping her up.

“Dylan you promised,” she squeals and tries to squirm out of my arms, but I hold her tight.

“I have every intention to make you pay for what you did.” I walk her back to my truck. S
etting her down on the tailgate
I put my arms on both sides of her, her legs between mine.

“What do you have in mind?” she bites at her bottom lip, a move that drives me crazy. I lean in; my breath hitches at her closeness. Her hand reaches under my shirt and a soft moan vibrates out of my lips making me want to do things to her I have only dreamed about. She tugs at the hem of my shirt. I break away only long enough to help her pull my shirt over my head and help her out of hers tossing them to the side. Our kissing deepens; she wraps her legs around my hips pulling me closer to her. My hands explore her soft skin.
I play with the thin fabric that separates us from being skin to skin. Her mouth is back on mine her tongue slowly flicking on my lips. Driving me crazy. My head is spinning as she devours me.