Page 13 of Barbie: Dreamscape

I was just shown that I’m not even worthy of a Fate, that I have nothing meaningful to contribute to our society, and yet Robin isn’t banishing me from Heartland. No, she’s promising me a home for life. I should be relieved. I should be grateful.

“Aren’t you… disappointed in me?” I look around. The whole point of this entire school is for students to prepare themselves to be worthy of incredible Fates.

I failed myself. I failed her.

“The Fates don’t make mistakes.” She repeats her favorite refrain softly, reaching out to touch my cheek. “If this is their will… then you are right where you are meant to be.”

Over the next few days, I watch all my former classmates move out of Swancrest and on to their Fates.

It’s torture.

I stand at the bright pink entry gates to the school, watching everyone else carrying their suitcases and boxes full of accessories that will grant them magic specific to their assigned Fates.

Each member of my class gets into a pink oak boat—a gift from the school to every graduate, for easy sailing through Heartland’s calm waters—before they’re magically swept down the rose-colored rivers to their new exciting futures.

A few people give me pitying looks. Others avoid me entirely, as if my failure is infectious.

It isn’t long before Callie and Sunny are standing at the docks, holding their own boxes of accessories, luggage packed, and my heart starts to feel like a mosaic in my chest.

No, not a mosaic. Is it even called that if the pieces are all scattered? If they don’t form anything beautiful, they’re just… broken?

Maybe it’s just called a mess.

Callie sees the look on my face. She drops her box of accessories beside her luggage. “You know what? I don’t have to leave. I can stay, too.”

My eyes burn, knowing she means it. But I don’t want that. I try my best to smile, bending down to pick up her box. “You have to go, Callie. How else am I going to have an excuse to leave Swancrest and visit you?”

My best friend looks unconvinced by my forced cheerfulness, but I avoid her concerned gaze by turning to place her belongings inside her boat.

“Barbie, I—”

I help her into the hull before she can say another word.

Sunny’s boat is right behind hers.

“Don’t even think about modifying it to go faster,” Teacher tells him from the other side of the docks, glaring daggers at his former student.

Sunny beams. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he answers, holding the box containing all his Mechanic accessories loosely in his hands—the perfect role for someone who likes to take things apart.

Also, slightly concerning, given his track record.

Teacher mumbles something about Sunny “not being his problem anymore,” then meanders off.

Sunny turns to us. “Notice he didn’t say anything about not making it fly,” he whispers with a wink.

Make that incredibly concerning.

“You are so getting kicked out of your Fate,” Callie says. Then her mouth snaps closed, like she instantly regrets the words that just spilled out of it. Her eyes slide to me.

I sigh. “You don’t have to walk on eggshells around me. I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Neither of my friends buy it. But I give them hugs and wave them off. I stand at the Swancrest gates until their boats are just dots on the horizon. My smile is bright as ever. My wave is outright enthusiastic.

Tears are flowing down my cheeks and—

Wait. I don’t cry.

Especially not while smiling.