Page 30 of Doll Face

I know who to talk to. I turn my phone back on and ignore all of the messages and missed calls I have. I click on my favorites and call Kelly. She’ll know exactly what to do. I get off the subway at a random stop and decide to walk. I don’t have a direction, I just need somewhere I can talk with service.

“Hey sissy, what’s up?” Kelly’s sipping on something; I can hear air in an empty straw in the background.

“I your advice.” I pause. “And I need you not to gloat about it.”

“No promises.” She laughs.

“Kelly,” I groan.

“Okay, okay. No gloating.” I can picture her nodding for me.

So, I explain the whole situation from start to finish without leaving out any details. If she’s going to give me honest and unbiased advice, then she needs all the details for once.

“I’m just anxious about what it means for us and if there really can be an us,” I explain.

“Barbie, you’re telling me that the girl you love called off a very important shoot to her. She ran to your side, bringing all your favorites, and spent the night with you to make sure you’re okay. But you aren’t sure what that means? Are you stupid?”

“What?” I laugh. “I don’t think so.”

“Is your brain made of plastic?”

“No.” I roll my eyes.

“Then go be with your fucking girl! She loves you and yes it’s scary but it doesn’t have to be as long as you have each other. You’re both older now and know what you’re doing and what you want. So talk to her and be clear and see if she can meet your needs. But I’m pretty positive she can.”

“Really?”

“I swear sometimes I think you can’t see the whole picture.” Kelly laughs.

“I just don’t want to get hurt again.”

“I know, and I can’t promise that won’t happen. But at least you can try. You’re protecting your heart, but you don’t want to put up so many walls that no one can get in.”

“You’re right.” I nod even though she can’t see it.

“Just go find your girl and be with her already. This is too many years in the making, and you told me I can’t meddle anymore.”

“Okay.” We say our goodbyes and I sigh, looking up at the street signs. Subconsciously, I’m already heading toward home. I continue down the avenue, walking a normal pace. Then it starts raining. I take it as a sign, so instead of getting on the subway, I walk in the rain. It’s a warm summer rain that feels like a drizzle instead of a pelting. It takes a while, but while I’m walking the drizzle turns into a lighter rain, and my clothes get wetter.

I need to get home, change, and find Kenzie. With fresh clothes and a new sense of things, I will feel a ton better than I did this morning. I know no matter what, Kenzie and I will be able to work things out. I just have to give her a chance to talk about everything.

When I walk into my apartment building, I’m confused when I hear shuffling as I stand outside my door…

Chapter 13

Kenzie

I wish Barbie would join me in the shower, but I want to give her a little bit more sleep since she had such a stressful day yesterday. So, I take my time in the shower and wash my hair thoroughly, scrubbing my skin clean before wrapping a warm towel around my waist. Of course it’s pink and fluffy because I’m still at Barbie’s apartment. I pad into the bedroom and look for my clothes. I’d have to settle for wearing last night’s outfit since I didn’t think to bring a change of clothes.

I turn around to wake up Barbie when I realize she’s not in her bed. I look around the empty room, confused. Where could she have gone? I thought maybe she was doing what I did and went to get breakfast … but wouldn’t she have left a note? Or come to tell me? I’m about to call her when I realize my phone isn’t on her nightstand anymore, it’s in the middle of the bed. I look at the call log. I have missed calls from Ken, my agent, and my manager, but the last call lasted for several minutes, which can only mean one thing: she talked to my manager. I don’t care that she picked up my phone but I can only imagine what my manager said to her. Fuck.

I think back to the shoot yesterday.

I’m sitting on the set of a lingerie shoot waiting for it to start. I hate when these things run late; it’s like they have zero regard for how we’re people who need to do things—like use the bathroom and eat. It’s already been an extra two hours of waiting because of shit like the photographer showing up too high to function and the lighting being “too bright” for him. I thought he was joking at first but then he insisted someone find him a pair of sunglasses. It took longer than you’d think in the summer in New York City. Apparently he wanted a certain brand, and I’m having less than good faith about how these pictures are going to turn out.

“Perk up, we can probably go out after this,” Ken says, smiling.

“If this shoot is ever over.” I groan. I look in the mirror at the pounds of makeup layered on my face and sigh. Is this still what I want to do? Lately it feels like more of a chore compared to wanting to spend time with Barbie. But then again, that has less to do with my job and more to do with wanting to spend time with Barbie.

---