Page 8 of Barbie: Dreamscape

I open my mouth to check in with her… then close it. Why bring up that unpleasantness again when she looks happy?

Unlike Paige, who visibly seethes and harrumphs before striding down the hall.

Sunny is waiting farther down the corridor, leaning against a wall of pink glittering lockers enchanted to open only for their owners. “Nice,” he says when he sees the sash. He whistles as our trio makes our way downstairs.

Happiness and calm wash over me. I did it. I finally did it. Callie loops her arm through mine, beaming. Her excitement is contagious, doubling my own. I let it fizzle through me like soda pop.

My work is done. I did the best I could.

My future now rests with the Fates.

Boxing Day

The Swancrest Academy courtyard is brimming with music and magic.

I’m the only one still inside. There was something I needed to do first.

I’m facing my mother’s statue, located between the base of the two curling staircases in the school’s main hallway. It’s sculpted in her likeness and dressed with the outfit she died fighting in—the glimmering pink armor she designed.

Yes, she was a warrior and a fashion icon. She contained multitudes.

“What do you think?” I say, spinning around, showing her my outfit.

For the most important day of my life, I’m wearing a glittering magenta long-sleeved dress, with equally sparkling heels. The #1 sash is draped across me. My hair is swept up in two swan-shaped clips. A gift from Robin.

Of course, there isn’t any response from the statue.

But I don’t need one.

“You know, the other day, I had this ridiculous nightmare,” I say, rolling my eyes. “That today wouldn’t be the best day of my life. But that was stupid.” I beam. “Last night, I dreamed I got three Fates. I figure that evens everything out. Maybe I’ll get two…”

Silence.

I frown. “Is that greedy? Does being confident make me… unlikable?”

I chew my lip, considering, before quickly stopping so I don’t get any cherry lipstick on my teeth.

“Well, I mean… if I deserve it, right? The Fates don’t make mistakes… They won’t give me anything I can’t handle…”

I sigh, reaching toward her stone hand. The rock has worn smooth over the years in the places my fingers have grazed far more times than I can count, the same spots I’ve touched since I was a child.

“I love you, Mom. I can’t wait to show you what I get,” I say.

Then I stroll outside, toward my destiny.

Robin’s magic has transformed the school’s facade into an ode to celebration. Swirling pink peppermint is strung across the spires; towers of sprinkle-dusted donuts lean precariously in every direction; an orchestra plays itself, invisible hands gliding bows over glimmering strings.

My eyes scan the crowd. All of Heartland is here, separated into an array of roles and cohorts, waiting to accept their new inductees with open arms.

I’ll be standing in one of those groups soon enough.

No, I think, straightening. I’ll be standing in a new one, all my own.

A frosting-thick layer of pink glitter coats everything, and I smooth my finger across one of the tables scattered around the courtyard, watching as it magically replenishes itself.

Robin went all out today, as she always does.

As if called from my very thoughts, she appears suddenly on the raised platform in front of the crowd, in a flash of rain-glitter. She’s wearing a blazer and pants that change shades of rose with her every movement. Her ever-present staff emits a crown of pink glow.