Free Broken Dolls by Tyrolin Puxty

choice. I think Libby’s braver.”
    “Who is Libby?”
    Gabby points to a girl her age, surrounded by family. The girl has no hair and is wearing a bandana tightly around her head. Her skin is as dark as Lisa’s clothing, and her eyebrows are non-existent. She is frail, but she doesn’t stop smiling. I don’t think anyone should stop smiling.
    “She’s sick, like me, but with something as old as time. She’s been in and out of the hospital her whole life and said the next time she goes in will be her last. I haven’t worked out if she’s just trying to be positive in a bad situation.” Gabby licks her lips. “I’m thirsty. May I please get a lemonade?”
    Libby must hear Gabby’s voice, because her eyes glisten when she waves her hand dramatically over her head, calling out. She walks towards Gabby to embrace her, her teeth glorious pearls.
    “Lovely to see you here!” Libby’s voice is deep and angelic.
    “You too. When did you come out of hospital?” Gabby nods at the hospital gown that hangs past Libby’s red coat.
    “Thirty minutes ago.” Libby laughs. “I’m going back in tonight. I didn’t want to spend my birthday in bed.”
    I glance at the professor who is eyeing Libby a little too intensely. His narrowed eyes, pursed lips, and flared nostrils would give me goosebumps if I had skin.
    “How old are you?” He crosses his arms.
    Libby doesn’t seem perturbed by the curtness. “I’m twelve today, sir.”
    “And you’re terminal, correct?” If I had been drinking water, I would’ve spit it out. Did he really just ask a kid if she’s terminal? Who
does
that?
    “I don’t see it that way, sir.” Libby smiles, but the sadness tinges her voice. “My adventure may end here, but it shall continue elsewhere.”
    “Hmm,” he mumbles.
    Really? That’s all the professor can say? ‘Hmm’? What’s
wrong
with him tonight?
    The lights flicker, followed by a cheery ding.
    “Oh, the show’s about to begin!” Libby’s face lights up. She hugs Gabby and inexplicably curtsies to the professor. There’s no way in the world I would have been polite to him after the way he conducted himself. “Have a lovely time!”
    When she’s out of earshot, the professor bends down to Gabby. “What is her full name?”
    “Libby Cox.” Gabby frowns, visibly unsettled by the professor’s behavior.
    “And how do you know her?”
    “From school, before she got sick.”
    The professor hesitates. “Do you like her?”
    “Yeah, she’s nice.” Gabby shifts and pokes her finger through the purse. She wiggles it, so I know she’s seeking reassurance. I wrap my arms around it and cuddle her finger, hoping it’s enough. “So, about that lemonade?”
    “You head inside, Gabrielle. I’ll get you that drink.” The professor pats her softly on the shoulder before walking against the flow of theatergoers to reach the bar.
    Gabby enters through a set of grand doors and opens the purse wider for me to view the inside. The stage is magnificent–everything I could’ve ever wished to perform on. The starlit ceiling shines down on the fake vines wrapped around the columns, and the seats look expensive. Like really, expensive. I’d be too nervous to drink in case I spilled anything on the fabric.
    Gabby squeezes through the fourth aisle and settles in her seat. “Seriously! What is wrong with Grandpa?” she whispers, trying not to look at me when she speaks. I presume it’s because she doesn’t want people to think she is talking to her crotch. “That was so…so…”
    “I know!” I whisper too, semi-paranoid about being seen. I keep my nose rested on the tip of the purse, using that as my visibility cut-off. “If this were a movie, I’d suspect him of being the creepy stalker or killer. I just… I don’t know; things are sucking lately.”
    “Preaching to the choir, Ella.” Gabby leans against the armrest. “But, we’re finally here. It’s another one for the bucket list. Everything is