Page 6 of Barbie: Dreamscape

But I remember Robin’s steadying words this morning. She’s always been right about everything. She’s right about this, I’m sure of it. “The Fates make no mistakes. They know exactly which role we’re meant to be in. They know best.”

“Right, of course.” Her voice lowers to the softest whisper. “But what if the Fates… don’t always know what’s best for us?”

Everything goes silent. A flock of Robin’s birds that were flying past us in the hall stall in midair. Students lingering in the corridors stop what they’re doing, pivot toward us, stare. We’re not outside, but I’m pretty sure the clouds stopped in their tracks, too. Even I look at Callie open-mouthed.

I take Callie’s hand and drag her into an empty classroom, next to the one we were about to walk into.

Her face is red. She’s trembling. She’s always quiet and calm, but right now it’s like she’s a screaming kettle that’s finally reached its boiling point. The words stream out of her in a hurried whisper. “What if they don’t know I hate chemistry, even though I won that project? What if I have to spend the rest of my life in a lab?”

“Well, I—”

“What if they see that A in PE as a sign that I’m good at physical activity, when I was just running so fast because I was being chased by a bee?” That single menacing bee is the reason I got to skip all of PE, due to my allergy (thanks, bee). She goes pale with panic. “I should have just let it sting me!”

“Callie… are you okay?” I put a hand on her forehead. “Do you want to go to Nurse?”

As if on cue, Nurse appears outside the classroom window, because her job comes with the accessory Helicopter Ambulance, and the ability to sense she’s needed before actually being called to assist.

“No, no.” She shakes her head, giving a thumbs-up to Nurse, who nods and flies away.

“Listen,” I say, keeping my voice low. I grab her hands. “You’re not alone in this… turmoil.” I wince at the word. I’ve already quelled my nerves, but Callie’s my best friend. I don’t want her to feel like she’s the only one experiencing pre–Boxing Day stress. “I just had a dream this morning that I got a bunch of horrible Fates.”

Her eyes widen. “You did?”

I nod solemnly.

She frowns. “And you aren’t—worried now?”

“No!” I exclaim, and it’s true. I don’t feel any of the nerves from this morning. They’ve all officially been exiled. “Everything always works out here. You work hard… and it’s rewarded.” I shrug. “Life is totally fair all the time.”

Callie presses her palms to her eyes. “You’re right. I don’t know why I’m so scared…”

I grab her by the shoulders. “We’ve watched every Boxing Day ceremony since we were little kids, and every graduate has always been placed in the role they were meant to be in. It’s always just made sense. Right?”

She nods, hands still against her eyes.

“Even Sunny is going to get a Fate that’s right for him, Callie,” I continue, laughing. “Whether he deserves one or not.”

“You’re right about that, too,” she mutters.

Finally, her hands drop down to her sides. I wait for her face to clear, but she still looks troubled. “But don’t you wish… do you ever wish you had a choice?”

A gasp pierces the room.

It doesn’t come from me. No, it comes from about a dozen other voices, gasping in sync. We blink, staring at one another, then turn around to see that there is a massive hole in the wall, one we didn’t notice before, which must have been a result of Sunny’s little experiment.

Our entire class is standing there, shamelessly listening to our conversation.

“How much did you hear?” I ask.

“Everything,” the whole class says in unison, including Teacher.

I gape at him, and Teacher just shrugs. “Gossip is like life seasoning.”

Paige is, of course, at the very front of the group, arms crossed. She gives us a withering look. Especially me, even though I barely said anything. “Your lack of faith in the Fates is concerning, Barbie,” she says. She turns to Teacher. “Does that knock down her GPA?”

“No.”

“At least a point?”