In a Barbie's house

Well, the good news is I wasn’t horny. I was terrified.

I was sitting across the room with Barbie’s parents, both of whom were short and stout individuals with bronze colored skin, who I’ve known for most of my life. And currently they were both staring me down with sharp, intense gazes.

“So, you intend on taking our little girl away from us, huh? To live with you, is it?” Mrs. Dias asked me.

“Taking her to an apartment you barely just acquired? Don’t you want to be more financially stable before you take her to live with you lot?” Mr. Dias fired right after.

Damn it girls, why did you have to leave me alone to deal with this? As soon as we had gotten to Barbie’s house, the two of them had run off to her room so Cassandra could help her finish packing, while I got stuck in the living room exchanging pleasantries with her parents. Somehow one thing led to another, and now I was in the middle of some kind of interrogation.

“Wow, calm down, Mr. and Mrs. Dias. You’ve known me for years, you guys know what I'm like. There’s no need for all the questions.” I said, somehow sounding apologetic.

“We know you are a sweet boy Alex, but this isn’t about you.” Mrs. Dias said with a soft smile. “This is about if our little girl will be taken care of.”

“You don’t have to worry about that, Mrs. Dias, we are all responsible adults. We will take care of each other.” I answered her with as much confidence I could muster.

“This isn’t about the others, young man.” Mr. Dias interrupted me. “You are the owner. You can ask the other people you own for help, but the responsibility of taking care of them, of our girl, lies on you. And we want to know if you are up for it.” He stared at me with an intense glare, intently analysing me and the answer I was about to give.

I honestly wasn’t expecting that level of responsibility to be thrust upon me. In my mind, we were all adults moving in together. Sure, we were doing other things together, but still, everyone was mature enough to do their part. And yeah, Barbie was the youngest one in the group, her parents’ fear was understandable, but I hadn’t considered that I was going to be responsible for taking care of all three of the girls. It kinda put some things into perspective.

“You’re right Mr. Dias. I will take care of Barbie. She is your daughter, but she is my friend too. We've been through so much together, and I care for her a lot. So you don’t need to have any doubts or reservations: I will take care of your daughter, and my friend, Barbie.” I hoped I said it with all the confidence I was feeling at that moment.

Mr. Dias kept staring for a few more seconds. And a few more. And then more after that. I was beginning to feel I wasn’t convincing enough for him, until he answered with a single word.

“Fine.”

I sighed in relief. “Thank God you guys accepted this without much trouble. I almost felt like I was asking you for permission to marry her or something.”

The moment I said that, they both laughed hard, like I had said something ridiculous.

“Oh honey, if you were actually intending on marrying her, we would have been way more strict with you.” Mrs. Dias said amidst her laughter.

“You are a sweet boy, but you probably wouldn’t pass that test of ours, anyway.” her husband added, as the two of them chuckled mischievously at each other.

I laughed along nervously. I wondered what the hell a poor guy or girl would have to go through with these folks if they ever wanted to be with Barbie.

“I reckon that probably won’t be a worry anymore, dear.” Mrs. Dias said. “Now that our girl is an object belonging to Alex, I don’t think she would be in many people’s radars. Can’t really be marrying an object willy nilly now, can you?”

“You are right, dear! Maybe we should be thanking him…” the two of them shared a look. “... but let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Let’s see how he fairs with living with her first.”

Yet another big moment of pause for me. Were all of these girls now restricted from getting married due to their “object” condition? I don’t think any of them ever mentioned marriage, either wanting or considering the concept, but it’s an interesting possibility to consider. People do keep mentioning how it’s harder or weirder to marry an object like them, it may be worth thinking about. I should ask them later their own opinions on this, if they ever wanted marriage, or feel robbed of it now that they are objects. But I somehow doubt this second question will be true for any of them.

“Speaking of which, my boy, how do you intend on using her?” Mr. Dias asked me.

Oh no.

“Yes, what are your plans for using our girl? Now that she belongs to you completely.” Mrs. Dias added.

Why, my God, was this happening to me?

“I, well, you don’t really ask a guy what he's gonna use his new shirt for, right? Or his new bed sheets— I mean shirt! It’s pretty self explanatory, really, right?”

“I suppose.” Her father mused, while I desperately tried to find a way out of that conversation. “Do you intend on using her to help you with your studies? She is quite brilliant, our little girl.”

“Oh, maybe he’s using her to liven up the place!” Her mother added. “She can be the life of the party, whenever she puts her mind to it.”

“Something more like that, yeah.” I nodded to her. “Look, the girls have been taking their sweet time up in Barbie’s room. I’m gonna go up there and see if they need any help finishing packing, ok?” I was already getting up and making my way to the stairs before I even finished talking, leaving little room for them to stop me.

“Oh, did you mention something about bed sheets?” Mrs. Dias asked. “Are you going to use her as a bed warmer?”

“I-can’t-hear-you-from-upstairs-I’m-gonna-check-on-the-girls-see-you-later-bye!” I hollered as I ran upstairs as fast as I could.

“He sounds weirdly enthusiastic about packing those bags, huh?” her husband questioned.

***

I opened the door to Barbie’s bedroom and yup, it was just as organized as I remembered it. That is to say, it looked like a tornado had just torn through the place. Clothes, pillows and plushies scattered haphazardly across her bed and floor, her desk filled with papers, books, and figurines had a dedicated space for a laptop, but good luck trying to find anything else in the middle of all that.

Both girls were bent over a pair of open suitcases, in a heated discussion about which clothes were deeply essential to bring with her, which (if any) of her plushies to also bring along, and which ones should obviously be donated to her close and dear redheaded friend, who had been so gracious to help her on this task. I could also see, in a corner of the room, a couple boxes piled up, presumably the stuff Barbie had already packed over the past week. I shuddered thinking how her room would even look before she started packing.

“Hey Barbie, you said you were going to room with Bi, right?”

“Huh?” She stopped mid sentence of her argument defending the inherent need to pack a strawberry plushie, then turned to me so she could answer. “Yeah, owner, I’m gonna stay with Bi in her room, while you and Aly get to decorate the guest room from scratch. I think that was the arrangement, right? Why do you ask?”

“No reason…” I said, admiring the chaotic energy of the messy room. “No reason at all.”

“Good. Owner, can you please explain to our friend here how incredibly important it is for me to bring all of my plushies to our new home?” And immediately she was back to her argument with Cassandra.

“And, Alex, can you please explain to this hoarder of a friend that we have how all of this stuff isn’t going to fit in her new room? Not to mention the fact that she will be sharing it with someone else and will have even less space to store all of her stuff.” The redhead fired right back.

“I’ll be honest, I’m gonna be siding with Cassandra on this one.” I said, already resigning to the fact there would be no pleasing both sides on this one. I knew both women too well to ever expect otherwise.

“Wait, what?!”

“Heck, yeah!”

Each woman gave their respective yell to my answer.

“Do not worry, for I am a merciful goddess.” Cassandra addressed our friend in a fake grandiose tone. “I will not be taking my payment right away, for I will simply swing by on the way back and bring whatever cuties that are left into my car on the way home.”

“Fine, whatever, you need something to hug at night anyway, your room is too barren.” Barbie responded in defeat. I was lowkey impressed by the answer, but also a little bit worried Cassandra would be hurt by it, but she just laughed it off as the joke that it was and began ranking the plushies she’d like to take with her in order of cuteness.

“Barbie, are you ready to leave yet?” I asked, taking advantage of the lul in the conversation.

“Pretty much, yeah. Sorry, we kinda got caught up in our little argument.” She answered me as she picked out the last couple of items before finishing with the bags. “So, how did it go with my parents?”

“Oh, you know. I had to get their permission for you to live with me, even though I already own you. And it was all going pretty nicely, I think, until they wanted to know how I intended to use you.”

Both girls exchanged a mischievous look, and then burst out laughing.

“Oh, I think we all know very well what you want to be using me for, owner.”

I could feel my cheeks burning red. Both girls had fully stopped what they were doing and were just cackling uncontrollably at my situation. The fact Cassandra was also laughing because she knew exactly what me and Barbie were doing behind her parents’ backs didn't help my blushing problem.

“So, can we get going?” I asked, not being able to look either woman in the eye. “I don’t want to go back down there and face that sweet old couple if there is even the slightest chance they might figure out what I do with their daughter.”

“Sure, owner, sure.” Barbie said, wiping tears from her eyes. “Let’s go to our new home.”

And so we did. Cassandra and I helped Barbie carry her boxes and load them up in our cars. At first, once we were downstairs, I did my best to avoid eye contact with her parents while using the boxes as cover, but by the end of it, Barbie was hugging and kissing them goodbye, and so was I. Barbie and I got into the car and drove away, with Cassandra following us. The goth girl had tears in her eyes as she waved her parents one final goodbye through the rearview mirror.