by Heidi Acosta
“This is sick.” Third gestures to the small movie theater we are sitting in.
“Yeah. My Moms work a lot, so they try to make up for their absences with this lavish, materialistic lifestyle,” she sighs, popping a Milk Dud in her mouth.
“Moms?”
Roxie now shovels a handful of Duds in her mouth. “Yeah, as in dos,” she says around a mouthful. “Hi, test tube baby,” she waves.
“That is really hot!”
Roxie throws a handful of popcorn at Third.
“Perv.”
I laugh, slouching down in my chair and settling in to do something normal. Watch a movie with my friends.
“That was the most effing stupid movie I have ever seen,” Third proclaims as the credits roll.
“Was not! Barbie, you liked it, right?” She looks at me pleadingly with dark -lined eyes and pouty black lips.
“Epic!” I stretch out.
“Come on. Let’s go up to my room.”
“What the—”
I hold up my hand, cutting him off. Roxie’s room looks like she took decorating advice from Mrs. Cruz. The same Pepto-Bismol pink color covers every inch of the room. On her walls hang posters of every current pop boy band and Taylor Swift. Okay.
“What the freak show?” Third takes in the room. I am just as shocked.
She beams at me. “Let me guess. You were you expecting black walls and bad poetry written in sharpie on my walls?” she asks.
Yes. I shake my head and mouth the word no, too stunned to speak.
“And spider webs, perhaps an altar to the devil.” Third adds, jumping on to her floral bed spread. Everett crawls up next to him with Bilbo.
“This is even more sick and twisted than I expected.” He leans back, discarding some of the lace decorative pillows to the floor.
“Pleassse,” she rolls her eyes, and plugs in her iPod. Taylor starts singing in the background.
“So what? I am not the typical Goth girl. I like country and pink. Looks can be deceiving.” She looks at me and smiles.
We all lie on her bed, listening to Taylor sing songs that sound like she wrote them for me. Until we go home.
“That was really weird, right?” Third says to me as he drives me home.
“A little,” I admit. “It is like she is this whole other person.” I sigh. “Sometimes people are not what they seem.” I think about Dylan and how I thought he was someone else. “I mean you thought I was this sex-crazed girl who did crack in the girls’ bathroom.”
He frowns. “You don’t?”
I lean over and hit him in the arm.
“Ouch,” he rubs at his arm. “Well, you thought I was some pervert who was trying to get a glimpse of what you keep under your shirt,” He points out.
“You were,” I gasp.
“You know, I think I like her,” he blurts. Now that is just too weird.
The next few days we fall into an easy routine. We go back inside for lunch after some coaching from Third and Roxie. I try my hardest to ignore the laughter or how Katie drapes herself over Dylan or the fact that they hold hands everywhere they go. Thank God he doesn’t kiss her. I think that would be the final knife that will kill me.
We spend our weekends and afternoons studying and hanging out at Roxie’s house. Her moms are both super nice. I think they are relieved she has living, breathing friends. They both work most of the time at a hospital in Birmingham. So her house is empty most of the time. My mother has not tried to make any more family dinners, or to try to off herself. For the most part Ronnie ignores me and Everett when he is around. Thankfully.
The halls of Central are abuzz with the end of the school year approaching. Black flyers with metallic blue writing litter the hallways announcing the prom. This year’s theme is Midnight in Paris. How original.
“We are going.” Roxie shoves the flyer in my face.
“I am not a masochist.” I take the flyer and toss it on the floor with the others. It is bad enough that I have to see Katie and Dylan’s sickening public display of affection. I sure as hell am not dishing out fifty bucks to watch it.
“Yeah, well I am. Justin going to be there. He is dating a girl from Jordan. I have to check her out. I bet she is skinny.” She bites her lip, deep in thought.
“We are not going!” I grab her hand and pull her to Math.
Third paces nervously by my locker. He wipes at the beads of sweat that have formed on his forehead. He looks clammy, like he might puke. He fiddles with the top of the buttons on his shirt. I open my locker, “What’s wrong with you? You look like you are going to hurl.”
He rubs his hands together. “I spent half the night awake,” he confesses. This has to be about Roxie. He has been acting weird around her lately. He confessed he liked her the first night we hung out with her, but mums been the word from him since.
“If you are going to lose your lunch, do it over there,” I point to the garbage can. “I cannot afford another pair of shoes.” I exchange my Algebra book for my English text book.
“I am not going to be sick. Can I ask you something?”
I turn and look at him. “If you’re coming to me about Roxie, just remember my track record with relationships.”
“No it is not about Roxie.” He leans against my neighbor’s locker. “We have been friends for a while now.” I nod my head. Yesss. “And I think you are really great. You mean a lot to me. I consider you one of my best friends.” He swallows hard before dropping to one knee. He retrieves a wrinkled card from his back pocket and a small teddy bear. “Barbie, will you go to the prom with me?”
I look down at him on his knee. A small audience has gathered around us. His blue eyes start to dart around nervously. “Of course I will go with you, Third.” Relief floods his face. I know I told Roxie there was no way in hell I was going, but how can I turn down Third? He has been through too much because of me. I owe him. I help him back up and he hugs me. “Of course I will go with you, but what about Roxie?” I ask.
“Okay, you were not my first choice, but she is complicated. I want to go with someone who is not trying to get with this.” He gestures down his body.
I smile. “That might be hard to do.” I let out a dramatic sigh.
“I never said it would be easy. But please, try your hardest. I just don’t go giving up to anybody who tries.” He winks and I poke him in his side.
“Now don’t go thinking I am a cheap date. I expect the whole shebang, flowers, dinner and dancing.”
He holds up his hand, sucking in his round red cheeks. “I wouldn’t think anything less would do. Shall we?” He offers me his arm and I loop it through his. We are joined by Roxie, who loops her arm with Third’s other arm. We are like a really dysfunctional version of Three’s Company.
June
I am Broken…
Chapter 25.
Goodbye
It has been a few weeks since I caught Barbie in Third’s bed. That tightness on my chest has not loosened up, but actually feels tighter each day. Like I am having a panic attack; I feel like I can never get enough air in my lungs. I’m sound like desperate high school girl. I should not be pouting like a little girl over someone who did not return my feelings. The odds of high school relationships working out are probably like one in a billion. And I now have Katie who has discarded her sweater and sits in a very thin cami. I should be excited. Her hips rock slowly back and forth as she bites on my ear. My shirt lies on the floor as she explores my stomach. She rakes her nails down my chest. I try to be here in the moment and pay attention to what reaction from my body Katie is going for. But the image of Barbie keeps popping into my head. She had her arm looped in Third’s. They were with that weird chick, who I guess they hang out with now. But Barbie… I was frozen watching her. She had her head tilted slightly back, the way she does when she finds something really funny. Her hair was in those damn braids that drive me crazy. She seemed really happy. Not that I didn’
t want her to be happy. No matter what had happened between us, I am not one of those assholes who would want her to be miserable because we are broken up. She just seemed to get over me so quickly. Hell, maybe there was nothing for her to get over. I wanted to be the one to make her laugh. I hated the possessive feeling that washed over me as I watched her. I shake my head, trying to focus on Katie who is leaning over me in her bed, giving me a full view of her cleavage.
Katie brought me home after the first night we hung out. She had no hesitation at introducing me to her parents. She wanted me to be a part of her life. No secrets. Her parents are strangely okay with her having a guy in her bedroom with the door shut. When she tried that at my house, my mom lost her wig. She sat us down, handing out pamphlets on STDs and teen pregnancy.
“What’s wrong?” She pulls away.
You’re not her. “Nothing, I am just tired,” I lie.
She scoots off me, pouting. “You are a teenage boy. I am your half-naked girlfriend. And you are tired?” She grabs her sweater off the back of the chair and begins to button it up. “You are thinking of her,” she accuses.
Yes, and dreaming about her, and obsessing over what she is doing, and who she is with. Maybe I am turning into one of those weird stalkers. Hell, the other day I went to the candy store and bought a bag of cotton candy just so I could smell her. It was all wrong, too sweet. I grab for my shirt and pull it on. I need to get a grip. “No, really I’m just tired.” I rub the palms of my hands over my face.
“I don’t believe you.” Her lip trembles. A girl crying is my Kryptonite.
I pull her to my chest. “I have not been getting a lot of sleep because I have been thinking how I am going to ask you to the prom,” I lie. “It is stressing me out. Nothing I can come up with seems to suffice.” I give her a cocky grin, the one that used to work on Barbie. It would always make her try to kiss it off my face to see if she could get out of me why I was smiling. I was only smiling to get that reaction out of her. “Really,” I nod.
She jumps on me, wrapping her legs around my waist. “Oh Dylan,” as she kisses me frantically. “You don’t have to do anything special, just ask,” she places her mouth on mine.
I set her back on the bed, breaking the kiss. I quickly ask her to the prom before she starts to pout, “Katie, will you go to the prom with me?”
She squeals. “Yes,” and tackles me again kissing my face over and over again.
Kissing Katie is not bad. Hell if Barbie wasn’t haunting me, it would be more than not bad. My heart doesn’t feel like it is going to explode, though, my body doesn’t feel like it has electricity pulsing through it when I kiss her. I don’t have the hunger to keep kissing her. I don’t feel like I am drowning. This is what normal feels like. This is what it is supposed to be, not some twisted obsession.
Chapter 26.
Innocent
When Tyler announced on Friday he was having the Epic party of the year at his house Saturday night, he was not kidding. I make my way through the sea of people at the house party. A game of beer pong is going on Tyler’s father’s white pool table, I watch as brown liquid spills onto the white felt from a red cup. A club mix spills out of a sound system over the noise of people.
“Hey, doll,” a heavy arm drapes over my shoulders. I fight the urge to shrug it off.
“Why, Tyler! Just the man I was looking for,” I turn and look up at his face, batting my eye lashes at him.
“What can I do for you?” An easy smile slips on his face. I give him a knowing smile in return. “I knew you would get tired of playing Dungeons and Dragons with the nerd and come looking for a real man to fulfill your needs.”
“Oh yes, my womanly needs, and you know how to fulfill them,” I say sarcastically.
“Better than the dork can.” He leans down so his face is close to mine. The stench of liquor from him is strong. I shrug his arm off. “How about you go and get yourself a drink and come find me, when you can no longer hold back the urge to rip my clothes off.” He winks at me.
Arggh. I should turn and leave. Tonight is not going to end well, with my old demons are lurking in the background.
“Tell the beer gardener that I sent you, no charge.” He says before disappearing into the crowd of people. Yeah, right, like that is going to happen. I usually fill my cup with water or a Coke. Nobody has to know that I prefer not to drink. I have been around drunk people a little too much for my liking to become one of them. It is not like I have never had a drink before. I would just rather not go there.
“Holy shirt boobage!” Roxie comes up behind me. “That outfit is hot!” I had put on my shortest skirt and tightest top. I came here for a purpose. I thought I was okay, but my time with Dylan had opened something in me, something I wanted to numb. I want to go back to not feeling anything at all again.
“You want a drink? It is on me,” I offer.
“I thought you would never ask.” She loops her arm in mine. People glance at us before looking away quickly when they catch my eye. We must be an odd sight. As we walk outside, I am in my stripper attire, and Roxie has on her long black dress that brushes the floor she walks.
“Is Third here?” We are in the line to the keg. I am starting to feel like this was a bad idea. Third can usually talk me out of a disaster which I am about to get into. I am as antsy as I was at home. The ache in my chest is still here. I just want it to go away.
“Yeah, he is around. Can you believe that this is only the second time in his life he has been to a party?” She shakes her head as we shuffle forward. My stomach flutters with nerves.
I should just leave now. All I want is something to numb me. I am bound to do something I will regret later on. I am about to tell this to Roxie when I feel like I have been hit in the gut. I grab my middle like I have really been hit. Dylan is here! Dylan is wearing my favorite Spiderman hugging tee with his old faded jeans. His brown, messy hair falls into his eyes. It almost covers his deep brown eyes. He is wearing that cocky smile that says he is up to no good. Seeing him wear it for her is what is killing me. My mother’s words flood back into my head. ‘You will never be good enough for him… He will never love you…’ I turn away just as he leans in to her. I don’t want to see any more. I don’t want to feel anything. Numb is all I want to feel. I push into people, trying to put as much distance between me and Dylan. I ignore Roxie’s calls to me. I need to get out of here. This is what was supposed to happen. He is supposed to be with her., He was meant to be with someone like her. I helped him get the girl of his dreams, so why should I be upset? I knew what we had would not, could not be real. It could never last. We are from two different worlds. How could I let myself forget that? He did not trust me. I push into a Goth guy with piercing blue eyes, spilling his beer down the front of his black shirt.
“Hey, you okay there?” he grabs on to my elbow, trying to steady me. I yank my arm away, I am anything but okay.
I am in the kitchen. I push in front of a girl who waits in line to take a shot of amber liquor.
“Hey!” she yells at me.
I ignore her.
“Tyler sent me,” I gasp at Bubba, a linebacker from Central. He still wears his red and white jersey from practice. He gives me a knowing smile and hands me a shot glass of the same amber liquid. I toss my head back and hand him back the glass, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
“Whoa, girl,” he smirks, but fills it again. I repeat the process, downing six glasses. The girl I cut gives up on waiting and storms out. My body is warm, and I salute Bubba as I walk away feeling fuzzy. I make my way through Tyler’s huge house. It should be a crime for someone to be this rich. If I was rich, I would give money to everyone I met. I let a giggle escape my mouth as I climb the stairs. I push open the doors of random rooms. Shouts erupt from a room where two girls and a guy are having a make out session. I laugh, “Excuse me,” I shut the door. I continue on my mission, I begin to mimic the music to spy movies on my way down the
hallway, do, do, do, do, DUNG ah nun! At least that’s how I think it goes. I open a smoke-filled bedroom. “Shut the door!” a guy with long, red hair barks as he inhales something that is not a cigarette. Tyler sits in a chair in the corner. I should probably thank him for the whiskey. Besides, he might help intensify this numbing that has finally begun to travel up my body. I smile and shut the door behind me.
Chapter 27.
Savior
This place is packed. I am nervous walking in, but if there is one thing I learned from Barbie, it is to act confidently when you want to tuck in your tail and run. I need to find her, talk to her, make things right, and tell her I don’t care about what happened. I can forgive her, and we can then move forward. I love her. I know that now. I just hope it is not too late.
I need to find Barbie. I am not even sure that she is here. There is a good chance she showed up because everyone and their mothers are at this party. A group of girls who look a lot like Katie’s friends are dancing with each other.
“Dylan!” Katie waves her hand above the group of dancing girls. Great. I was trying to avoid her. She pushes forward. Her hair is in a frizzy pony tail and pieces coming loose. Her cardigan is crooked and unbuttoned, revealing her cleavage. “I was hoping you would change your mind and show up.” She sways a little. She is drunk. I never thought of her as a girl who would get drunk off cheap beer at a house party.
“Hey, Katie,” I kiss her cheek. “Have you seen Barbie?”
She scrunches up her face, “Why ya want to find her? When I am right here,” she throws her hands in the air like she is a prize.
“I need to give her something back from when we were together,” I lie.
Katie stumbles forward, spilling beer on us. “Oopsie,” she laughs.
I roll my eyes. What did I ever see in her?
“Hey, wait.” She drapes her arms around my neck. “I am really drunk and I really want to make out with you.” She whispers in my ear in slurred tone.
I grab her hand and pry her off me. “I really need to find Barbie first, and then I will be back.” She pouts, but lets me go.
I search everywhere for her. She is definitely here. She has been spotted by several party goers. I ignore the anger rising in me when Randy says, “Hell, yeah, I saw her. That girl was looking banging tonight! No wonder you hitting that. Hey, do you mind if I tap that?”
