Doll Face (Baby Doll #3)

by Heidi Acosta

I swallow hard. I have not spoken to my mom since that day she told me what happened. Divorce was always dangling in front of them, so I shouldn’t be shocked. It was not like they loved each other. I knew that from a very young age, but it still stings, another nail in the coffin to this whole mess.

  “Oh, Katie Bear, don’t cry. It’s going to be fine.”

  I bite my lip, trying to force back the tears. “How? How can you say that? We lost everything, all our money, and Dad is in prison. How are you going to pay for school?”

  She waves me off, standing up in last night’s party dress, a red velvet number. “Oh, I have my ways. Let’s not think about them anymore.”

  “Them? As in our parents?”

  “Yes, them. Let’s go out and have fun tonight, it’s the beginning of summer break.”

  “No, I’m done going out, no more.”

  “Oh, Katie, what do you have to lose?”

  Hours later Rylee twirls in front of her mirror wearing a silver flapper dress. Her faux bob is held down by a feathered headband. She looks ridiculous. I cannot believe we came from the same gene pool. Rylee is irresponsible and a flighty mess. My parents hoped being away at school would help her get it together, but the only thing that Rylee has done in the two years of being at school is taking random classes with an undeclared major, all in the hopes of finding herself and spending as much as my parent’s money in the process.

  What gets to me more than all of that is that my major has been declared since freshmen year of high school. It was expected that I be the good girl, be the perfect daughter while Rylee pushed every boundary. I look away from Rylee, detesting the resentment I have toward my sister. I push it deep down with the other emotions that are brewing a major storm inside of me—Hurricane Katie. I just hope the walls I built up are strong enough to hold it in.

  “Katie, you are not going to mope all night, are you?” Rylee asks. I cut her the evil eye, still angry at her, but she just smiles her mischievous grin at me. Some of the anger melts, and I know she doesn’t mean to be this way, this is just Rylee. I roll my eyes at her

  “Kit Kat, time to get dressed.” She bounces over to me and pulls me down on her hot pink twin bed.

  “Rylee.” I push her off of me and readjust my sweater. I’m in no mood for whatever Rylee has planned.

  She pouts, her freckled nose wrinkled. “You know what your problem is?”

  I rub my temples feeling a headache starting to form. “Please don’t tell me.”

  “Too bad, I’m going to. You don’t know how to have fun, you are too uptight, trying to live up to this illusion of perfection that Mom and Dad forced down your throat, but look where that image got them! For once in your life, Katie, forget who you’re supposed to be and let you hair down.”

  My face heats, thinking about the last time I tried to let my hair down. I ended up half naked in my bed thanks to Adam Nash. No, I’m not going to let my hair down. If I did, the next time I might end up completely naked with him in my bed. The heat in my face travels down to my legs, and I push all images of Adam in my bed away. I take a deep breath, avoiding all thoughts of Adam. “Why are you dressed like a nineteen- twenties hooker?”

  She hops off the bed and twirls again in front of me. “You like?”

  “No.”

  She ignores me. “We are going to a nineteen-twenty themed end of the year frat party.” She claps her hands together like she just told me we won the lottery.

  “So glad to see Dad’s hard stolen money is going to you bringing up your alcohol tolerance level and not your GPA,” I say dryly.

  “Aww, Katie, you’re a drip,” she replies with a roaring twenties accent, rolling her shoulder. I hope she doesn’t talk like that all night. “Besides, I went to class a few times this semester.” She pouts again just as her roommate Patty enters dressed like a gangster complete with a fake gun and an unlit cigarette. In her hands, she holds a matching silver dress to my sister.

  “Look what Julia had left over from Halloween,” she says, tossing the dress on to the bed.

  “Fun! Twinsies.” Rylee holds out the dress for me.

  “No,” I snap, pushing the dress back. Why does everyone feel the need to dress me lately?

  “Katie, come to this party have fun for once in your life. There is going to be some majorly hot guys.” She smiles at me.

  “I’m done with hot guys.”

  “What?” Rylee brows perk up, and I quickly change the subject.

  “You get that the 1920s was not just one big party, right? There was actual women suffering?”

  Patty gives Rylee a look like ‘I see what you mean’.

  “Katie, stop acting like Mom.”

  I instantly quill at the comment. “I’m nothing like her.”

  “Then come.” We stare at each other, green eyes matching green eyes. Besides the height difference, we could pass as twins.

  “Besides, we need a dezzy,” Patty says. An hour later, I’m pushing through a crowd of sweaty, drunken college students—dressed like a bad Halloween store. I would never admit it to her, but Rylee actually does not look half that bad in the outfit. I, however, not so cute. Apparently I’m a foot taller than the girl whose dress who I’m adorning. The fake pearls around my neck feel like a noose, and the humidity is choking out all the air in the house—not to mention making my hair frizzy—the peacock feather that Rylee insisted I wear keeps drooping in my face.

  I left Rylee grinding on some guy when the feeling of not being able to breathe became too strong. I was afraid I might pass out or puke. I need air, to keep the world from spinning too fast. “Katie,” someone calls my name, but I don’t stop. I push out the back door, not in the mood to talk to another one of Rylee’s frat boys trying to grope me. “Katie.” Nausea rolls through me as I drag in a deep breath of the hot Alabama air.

  “Hey, it’s you.”

  I turn to tell the guy off. “Tyler,” I gasp. Tyler was my sort of boyfriend in high school, but he never wanted to make it official. He was the only one that got me to walk on the edge and made step off my good girl pedestal. On more than one occasion he talked me into sneaking under the bleachers to make out. The problem was I wasn’t the only girl he brought there.

  “I didn’t know this was your scene,” he says. I shrug like it’s no big deal, that I often make my presence known at the frat parties. He still looks good; dark eyes, and hair. He has on faded jeans that he probably paid a hefty price for and a yellow collared polo shirt. I can’t help but note the difference in his appearance to Adam’s. He is shorter than Adam and not as muscular. I don’t think Tyler could carry me up a flight of stairs. He also wouldn’t stick around long enough to make it his problem either.

  “Rylee attends college here, and I’m just visiting her,” I reply, a little out of breath.

  He nods like that makes perfect sense. “Well, you look great,” he says. “So is Dylan here?” He glances around.

  Dylan was the guy I dated after Tyler for a short time.

  “We broke up before high school ended remember?”

  He shrugs.

  “What about you, Tyler? I never took you for a frat boy.”

  “I’m not, just checking out the scene before heading home for the summer.” He flashes that perfect white smile that used to make me melt, but tonight it sets me on edge. My mind flashes back to the crooked smile that has me melting no matter how much I don’t want it to. I turn away from him and grip the banister.

  “So does that mean you are you single then, Katie Bloom?”

  My stomach knots, and I’m not sure if that is a good thing or a bad thing. I wonder if Tyler might help me forget; forget my life, forget Adam. Even though Tyler and I hooked up, I never actually had sex with him—he was with too many girls back then—but I’m no longer in high school.

  “Want a drink?” he asks. I nod and follow Tyler back into the kitchen.

  “I heard there is a huge frat party happening tonight over at Troy,” James says.
>
  I change the channel, in no mood to go to a party. Since the other night, I have been in vile mood, my mind stuck between wanting to find Katie and save her and listening to James’ stupid mouth.

  “You want to go to a party with a bunch of stuck-up douchebags?” I mumble and change the channel again. Why isn’t there anything on? Damn it.

  “Hell no, I’m just trying to get that girl off your mind and I thought a hook up with a sorority girl might help.”

  “Thanks for looking out, but she is not on my mind,” I say. The truth is she is the only thing on my mind. Hell, all I have been doing since I fixed her car is sit around the house moping. I have also been thinking about what James said, and maybe he is right. We come from two different worlds, this can only end in a disaster, and I’m not sure I want to get my heart trampled on like a fucking doormat, but I’m not sure that I don’t want not to either.

  “At least, let’s go get a drink at the Black Hole. Or do you need to sit around knitting and crying over your period?”

  I throw the remote at his head but miss. “You are a sexist bastard you know that, right?”

  “Why thank you. I’m a sexy bastard.”

  However annoyed I am at him, he is right—sitting around torturing myself with thoughts of her is not going to change anything, so I might as well go out.

  “You’re buying,” I say, standing up and grabbing my hat. Maybe a drink or two will help me figure this girl out.

  The Black Hole is packed with locals tonight. I scan the crowd, hoping to find Red, but she is nowhere to be seen, not even her friends. I try not let the disappointment read on my face, but James catches it. “This isn’t her scene, man. Last time was a fluke.”

  Shrugging past him, I shoulder my way to the bar and order two shots of whiskey. I shouldn’t be disappointed; I know this isn’t her scene. She doesn’t belong in a place like this. She doesn’t belong with a guy like me. The thoughts piss me off, and the burning liquor does little to numb the disappointment. I order another beer, before turning around. Karly is on the dance floor. This is her type of place, dirty and loose, and I’m her type, no commitment, no future but this town and the yard. She has on a leather mini skirt and a yellow halter top that reveals way too much … something Katie would never wear. One of her legs is wrapped tightly around a guy she is dancing with. Her ass is hanging out; she definitely isn’t wearing any panties.

  I close my eyes, thinking about my hands on Katie, and the thin fabric that clung to her skin, the way it felt moving over her hips. I conjure up an image of her, her hair, her eyes, and her fucking amazing body. When I open my eyes again, Karly is staring right at me, the furthest thing from Katie. Karly winks at me, and I know what she wants. The problem is, is it what I want? No … yes, fuck I don’t know.

  Damn, I’m letting James creep into my head. I slam back the beer and walk out to the dance floor. The guy she is dancing with begins to protest as I pull her away, but then thinks better of it and walks away. James nods his head in approval. Did he put Karly up to this? I’m too drunk for this shit. All three of them are in my head like fucking parasites, a worm that is digging its way through my brain. James with his endless doubt, wanting me to know my place in society. Katie making me want her so bad, dangling just out of my reach, and Karly … Karly, who wants nothing from me, but to fuck. No commitment, no love, no talk of the future. She is here, willing, and is hot as hell. One thing she can do is help me clear my mind.

  “It’s about time, cowboy. I thought I was going to end up having to fuck that guy.” She takes my hat off my head and places it on her own.

  Several shots later Karly’s tongue is in my mouth as we make our way to my truck. My head is spinning from the liquor, Red, and Karly’s perfume, which is sickly sweet. She is sucking on my ear, and her tits are in my face. They’re fucking huge, perky, and round. She loves her boobs; they cost her a pretty penny right out of high school. Her exact words to me were, ‘Fuck school. My tits will get me further than an education; they will help me find a rich man.’ The problem is she is not going to find a rich man in Phenix Alabama or fishing in the Black Hole. Only guys like me swim there.

  Karly is nothing like Red, who would never be so willing to climb in the back of my truck. I can’t help but think what she would look like on top of me. For a moment, I replace Karly with her—the soft, porcelain skin, her red hair loose around her shoulders, her green eyes … her fucking amazing eyes. I open my eyes, and she is gone, replaced with Karly.

  “What’s wrong, don’t like what you see?” she growls. Always aggressive, never soft. Her skirt sits on her hips and I was right, she has on no panties.

  “I can’t do this,” I sigh. She reaches under her grabbing onto the bulge in my jeans.

  “Oh trust me, I think you can.” She smiles down at me as she begins to massage it.

  “No.” I grab her hand. “I can’t, not here, not with you.” Fuck, I shouldn’t have said that.

  Karly’s eyes narrow and flash with anger. “Fuck you, Adam Nash.”

  “Karly that came out wrong. I just—”

  “Oh, I know exactly what you meant, Adam. You think you can get that little rich bitch to fuck you?” She slides off me. “You think that she will get in the back of your beat-up, old pickup truck and fuck you? What do you think you are going to do, bring her stuck-up ass to the yard, meet your good ol’ southern boy dad, and the rest of your fucked up make-shift family, and marry her, have babies?”

  Yes. No …Yes.

  “Well I have news for you, you’re shit, Adam. She wouldn’t fuck you if you were the last man on Earth. You will always be a poor boy from the wrong side of the tracks to her. She will leave just like your momma did.” Her words are like little knives cutting deep into my flesh, with what I already know is to be true.

  “I’m the best fuck you will ever have. Call me when you can get hard.” She climbs out of my truck, grabbing her shirt and purse, and walks back to the Black Hole topless.

  I change my outfit two times, before settling on a simple white sweater, and jeans. My phone vibrates. I glance at the message; it’s Tyler asking to meet up. Ignoring the text, I shove the phone in my purse. Hooking up with Tyler the other night was a huge mistake. Not sleeping with him made me a challenge for him, and now he’s harassing me. I wanted to, I wanted to get this giant nest of a chaos that is my life off my mind, but for some fucked up reason, I couldn’t get Adam out of my head. Each kiss, each touch was a yearning for one from Adam, not Tyler. Which is ridiculous, because I shouldn’t be thinking about Adam like that. I will have to deal with Tyler eventually, but not now … I have too much going on at the moment. I stopped by Mr. Basset’s office yesterday and picked up stacks of records. He gave me the task to go through bank records and mark all money transfers. That should keep my mind off things it shouldn’t be on.

  “Look at you,” Kiki chirps when I enter the living room. “Our baby is all grown up.” He dabs at a fake tear in the corner of his eye. “You are just the right amount of classy and sexy.” Kiki pulls on my sweater. “You look very tow yard chic.”

  “That isn’t even a thing.” When Kiki snaps a picture of me with his phone, and I try to grab it from him. “Hey!”

  “Once I hashtag it, it will be.”

  “Kiki!”

  “Oh, girl, look at the time! You’re going to be late on your first day of school.”

  “Work.”

  “Whatever.” He shoves a brown paper bag in my hand and a coffee in the other, and then pushes me out the door.

  “Now, momma Paul is going to drop you off.”

  “I’m not calling him that.”

  “She is not calling me that,” Paul says, grabbing his keys off the counter.

  “Fine … papa Paul.” Kiki rolls his eyes.

  “Not happening,” Paul calls out as we both dart down the stairs before Kiki can give us another role in his delusional family.

  We are both silent for the ride, which I don’t
mind. The knots in my stomach twist tighter the closer we get to the tow yard, which has to do with who I’m going to see as opposed to first day jitters. Pulling up to the chain-link fence, my stomach completely drops out from under me. When I get out of this car, it’s going to make everything that has happened true. Paul deciphers my hesitation as nerves.

  “You’re going to do great,” Paul offers.

  I look over at him, his face blurry from the tears I’m about to release. “This is a lot harder than I thought it would be. This isn’t how I planned my life going. I had it all together; everything was on track to the life I was supposed to have.”

  “Sometimes things happen for a reason. Perhaps you were meant to take a different path than the one you were on. Try to think of it as a blessing in disguise.” I know that Paul is trying to cheer me up, but I can’t see how any of this is a blessing. I take a deep breath, forcing all my tears back, and open the car door.

  “Good luck,” Paul calls.

  “Thanks, I’m going to need it.” I debated all morning on calling Mr. Nash and telling him to keep the car that I couldn’t take it. The deal is off. I can’t work anywhere near Adam Nash. However, having a car means freedom and a step toward putting my life back together. I’m just going to have to push that boy far from my mind and avoid him at all cost.

  I smooth down my hair and push the buzzer. “Yello?” A women’s voice streams through the static in the speaker.

  “Hi, yes, I’m Katie, I … ummm, I’m supposed to start working here today.” I swallow hard.

  “Oh, right. Shit, now what in the hell is that … Honey, you just sit tight, and someone will be right out to let ya in.” A few moments later, James walks out to let me in, and I let out a sigh of relief that it’s not Adam. I can’t see him yet, not when I’m on the edge. James unlocks the gate to let me in. He is as good looking as Adam is, just in a different way. His skin is dark, and his jet black hair matches his dark eyes; an unlit cigarette hangs from perfectly shaped lips. His navy blue jumpsuit is unzipped to the waist, and the white undershirt shows off well-etched muscles. Unlike Adam, James doesn’t have any visible tattoos that I can make out.