Now, although I know she meant it as an insult – because to this child, thirty is ancient – the vain side of me preens. And that snarky bitch is the one that wins command of my vocal cords.
“Why, thank you! I'm actually forty, so that is such a huge compliment. My secret is that I keep my face as natural as possible, so if you want to keep looking youthful, you should really consider that as an option.” I pointedly eye her caked-on makeup, false eyelashes, fake tan several shades too dark, and lip filler. “Just a suggestion.”
Scouse Barbie sucks in a shocked gasp but doesn't loosen her hold on Brad, and I want to snap every single one of her ridiculous nails off her stupid fingers. “Excuuuuse me? Who the fook d'you think you're talking to you fookin’ slag?” she steps closer, pointing her sharpened claws at my face.
I'm worried that maybe I took it too far, too soon, until Brad squeezes my hand, pulling me slightly behind him and wrenching his arm out of her vice-like grip. “Watch it, Bianca. You want to take a fucking step back.”
“Wait, who is Bumpy? I'm so confused,” queries a tall brunette with boobs too big for her willowy frame. She kind of looks like the letter P in profile. They can't be real. How does she stay upright? And why am I staring?
“This is Bumpy,” Brad proudly says, as he smoothes his hand over my belly to show off the small bump I'm sporting under this dress.Cue the third degree.
“Wait, what?”
“Did you name her fat belly?”
“I didn't know old people could even get pregnant,” sneers one of the clones. They’re all starting to blur together at this point.
“Brad, did you seriously knock this old bitch up?”
“Who’s pregnant?”
“Hey, Shari. Why are you guys naming the baby Bumpy?” Torbyn inches closer to ask.
“The baby isn't going to be called Bumpy.”
“Is she a surrogate?”
“Why would Brad need a surrogate?” Dave questions.
“I don't know! Why else would he have a baby with an old woman?” P Shaped Barbie stomps her foot in indignation, and those bazookas jiggle. Guess they are real after all!Damn.
A small voice pipes up from next to me, “Congratulations, Shari. Between the two of you, the baby will be an absolute heartbreaker, for sure. I'm Cassie, by the way,” the owner of the voice – a tiny brunette – grins at me. She's adorable, basically pocket-sized, with curly brown hair and dark blue eyes that look almost too big for her face. Like a Disney princess. And the real winner? She seems nice!
I turn to give her my full attention, letting go of Brad’s hand in the process. “It’s good to meet you, Cassie. I can't tell you how much of a relief it is to hear at least one friendly voice in amongst...this,” I grimace as I wave my hand towards the Barbie Bitch Brigade.
Cassie nods with a cringe of her own. “You don't have to tell me. We're in desperate need of somenicearound here.” A slow grin takes over her face as she adds, “Trey has been saying from the start that you're the one who'll knock Brad for six.”
“Did I hear my name?” Trey’s deep voice rumbles behind me.
Cassie giggles and blushes slightly – someone clearly has a crush – and they start talking, but my attention drifts back to Brad.
The plastic fantastic clones surround him like vultures, standing so close it's a wonder he can still breathe. They're cooing and pouting and batting their eyelashes and making mepositively murderous in the process...but I don't really have the right to say anything. To do anything about it. Because again, we haven't actually defined our relationship one way or the other. So, I stand there like an overstuffed lemon and seethe quietly. Jaime said she knows how to get rid of bodies.Bet it wouldn't take much to get her to help out with the Triple B’s.
Brad's worried gaze flicks my way, so I give him a reassuring smile, but I fear it must come out as completely crazed because I don’t have the best poker face.
Trey’s arm slides around my shoulders, his attention still on Cassie next to me as they continue their conversation. I’m grateful for quiet support, even as I try to pretend that I don’t need it.
“Ignore them, beautiful. They’re trying to rile you, and Brad’s too damn polite to just walk away. Just trust me, he doesn’t want to be standing there with them any more than you want them near him.”
Brad’s body language does seem particularly stiff. Should I go over there and save him? Would he even want that?
I’m still hesitating when Bianca reaches forward to stroke her hand down his chest, and my blood pressure rockets. The only thing that stops me from storming over and ripping her fake hair off her fake head is Brad snagging her wrist and throwing her hand off him.
He all but shoves the girls away and comes to stand in front of me, looking both pissed off and panicked. Grabbing my hands, the panicked look in his eyes hasn't abated as he starts his apologies. “I’m sorry, Blaze. I don't know what's gotten into them today. They're not usually...quite this bad, I swear. Please don't be mad or upset. I promise there's nothing going on here.”
“Brad, are you coming to the party tonight? Or do you have to stay in with the old biddy?” This was exactly what I feared.The judgement, the bullying, the very apparent age gap that currently feels like a canyon, if this is what girls his age act like.
Cassie surprises me by growling, “Lisa, don't be such a bitch!” I guess P Shaped Barbie is called Lisa, then.
