(one)
.
“i think i’m lost,” the girl says. she’s a porcelain doll kind of girl with fine blonde hair and pretty clothes. she looks so out of place. she looks so at home.
tinkerbell holds her breath and blinks like fluttering faery wings. she’s never seen a girl like her before (because, well, girls like that don’t come stumbling into ghetto crash pads like this very often).
dorothy scrambles to her feet suddenly and heads toward the new girl. maybe this is what they’ve (she’s) been needing.
“that’s okay,” dorothy says and leads her further inside.
“so are we.”
(two)
.
her eyes were wide and blue like summertime oceans.
“i think,” dorothy says, puts a finger to her bright red lips, “i’ll call you alice.”
alice grins, a mouth full of pearls, and dorothy is satisfied.
(two-and-a-half)
.
“so,” alice says and makes herself comfortable on the sofa, “do you give names to all the girls you meet?” she takes her shoes off and puts them under the coffee table. dorothy sits next to her, legs crossed on the cushions and smiles.
“only the pretty ones,” dorothy says and tinkerbell giggles.
“so what about the two of you? what are your names?” alice asks, curious because she always has been. you could be a scientist with a mind like that, her mother told her once. but that was a long time ago.
“i’m dorothy. that’s tinkerbell.”
alice looks embarrassed. “no, no. i meant—”
“does it matter?” dorothy asks. her smile falters. tinkerbell looks at the television and pretends not to be listening to the conversation anymore. it takes a moment but alice finally says,
“no. no it doesn’t.”
it’s the truth.
(three)
.
on sunday they eat cake and talk about their love lives (or lack thereof)
“he was smart. a real wiz,” dorothy is saying, “but it didn’t last long.”
why not? alice asks and dorothy shrugs.
“he wasn’t who i thought he was,” she says.
and you?
tinkerbell’s smile is bitter. “his name is peter and i loved him first,” she says and leaves it at that. it’s alice’s turn anyway.
“i don’t really know him but i met him in a dream once,” alice says, “he might be a bit mad, but i think i love him anyway.”
she smiles, dreamy.
dorothy feels sick suddenly.
(four)
.
“i used to live right...there.” dorothy points to a big white house at the end of the street. they’re on the nice side of town going to a party at dorothy’s friend’s place.
alice raises her eyebrows, white picket fence and freshly cut green lawns doesn’t seem very dorothy (although maybe, once upon a time. if alice squints maybe she can see it).
“so then how’d you end up in oz?” tinkerbell asks because this is news to her too.
dorothy grins too wide.
“i got picked up by a wild tornado. it swallowed me whole before it spit me out.”
(five)
.
one time they go to the movie theater to see the new comedy everyone’s raving about because they’re in a good mood and it feels like a good night to have girls’ night. except the thing is, they’re not even halfway through the movie when tinkerbell suddenly starts to cry and dorothy quietly asks what’s wrong and all tinkerbell can do is point at a redheaded boy and pretty golden-haired girl three rows down.
alice doesn’t really know what’s going on but she leaves with dorothy and tinkerbell because that’s what friends do and later she learns that the boy’s name was peter and the girl was his brand-new-no-longer-a-secret girlfriend, wendy.
“he said he wanted to grow old with her.”
tinkerbell cries into dorothy’s shirt and wonders whatever happened to forever young.
(six)
.
when they go ice skating during the winter tinkerbell carves through the ice like she’s been doing it all her life. she does tricks and spins (“show off!,” dorothy yells and laughs) and is the most graceful person alice has ever seen. when tinkerbell skates it looks like she could be flying.
alice on the other hand, has to hold hands with dorothy like a child because she’s never done this before and she’s afraid of falling.
alice almost slips and screams, her fingers tightening their grip on the sleeve of dorothy’s fleece jacket but then she laughs and she smiles and it’s incredible.
when dorothy shivers it’s not from the cold.
(seven)
.
tinkerbell drags the two of them on a road trip across the country in the second week of july.
“what brought this on?” dorothy asks. they eat cherry popsicles on a california beach and get sunburned and refuse to care about anything.
“just wanted a change of scenery,” tinkerbell says and pretends to be cheery.
(it’s alice who finds the newspaper clipping with the wedding announcements crumpled in the knife drawer when they get back home).
(eight)
.
alice dreams too much and that’s the problem.
she zones out completely, blue eyes glassy and that’s how dorothy knows that alice is dreaming of faraway places and love with mad hatter boys.
dorothy puts a pretend smile on her face, leans over the kitchen countertop and snaps her fingers in front of alice’s face.
what are you thinking about? dorothy asks (like she always does so she knows exactly what comes next) and alice giggles and says—
my dream boy.
dorothy’s pretend smile almost breaks her face.
she hates it when alice dreams sometimes.
(nine)
.
another friend of dorothy’s comes by to hang out.
“you know it’s really obvious,” he says when it’s just the two of them (because tinkerbell is making more lemonade and alice disappeared into the bathroom).
“what is?” dorothy asks and he pauses before he says—
“that you’re in love with her.” like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. dorothy denies it vehemently and calls him an idiot that doesn’t know anything and he only shrugs and grins because he never said her name.
and when the other two come back dorothy’s heart races and she can’t quite look alice in the eye.
(ten)
.
dorothy can’t really explain it, but she’s sure that alice will leave her one day.
(eleven)
.
on new year’s eve they throw a big party with all their friends and smoke and drink and dance until the countdown.
dorothy kisses her eleven milliseconds before midnight (it feels like adventure and falling into rabbit holes and impossible possibilities).
in the background tinkerbell throws her head back and laughs and sprinkles her faery dust over everyone.
(twelve)
.
guess what? alice says, wide smiles and sparkling eyes. dorothy smiles too, her energy is contagious.
what? she asks and alice leans in conspiratorially, like she’s got a big secret.
“i met him today.”
she doesn’t even need to ask who because dorothy already knows (my dream boy).
this, dorothy thinks (knows), is the beginning of goodbye.
(thirteen)
.
she meets him on a wednesday when alice brings him over for dinner.
he’s funny and nice and treats alice well. it’s clear that he loves alice just as much as alice loves him.
dorothy hates him.
(thirteen-and-a-half)
.
dorothy cries as she does the dishes and tinkerbell doesn’t ask questions as she helps to dry the plates.
(fourteen)
.
the second time that dorothy kisses alice it’s two days before she’s supposed to leave with her real life dream boy (she’s moving in with him, leaving like dorothy knew she would).
“i’m sorry,” dorothy says, “i don’t know why i did that” and she’s lying through her teeth, a part of her wanting alice to realize that.
instead the girl with the summertime ocean eyes says, “i’m sorry too but dorothy—i love him” and dorothy bites her tongue and let’s alice go when really she wants to scream BUT I LOVED YOU FIRST!
(and, oh, is this how tinkerbell feels?)
(fifteen)
.
the day after alice leaves tinkerbell and dorothy drink tea on the living room floor and pretend to be okay and act like they don’t notice the space between them where another blonde girl should be.
three may be a crowd, dorothy thinks bitterly, but two leaves you empty.