#Where they’ve been friends since Anetra moved to Marcia’s town Junior year and now it’s senior year and they get to fall in love

[lady-assnali]

Anarcia x Barbie Movie

I’m back with the collab nobody asked for that I desperately needed. Based on the events of my own Barbie movie premier being cancelled because the power went out, this is just…this is what came out. (I’ve been writing a bit but not too much, I’m remembering to post this for you all instead of just sending it to @sexynetra and letting it float away like I’ve been doing. I’ve been holding out, so sorry!)

——

The sky is just beginning to clear when they pull in to the parking lot of the cinema. There’s a crowd outside the door, and Jax leans in from the back seat of Anetra’s truck to see better.

“Do you think they lost power?”

Marcia shakes her head vigorously, whipping around to glare at her friend.

“Why would you say that? The storm is over, I think there’s just a lot of people coming to see this movie. That’s why it looks like it’s so packed.”

“Yeah, that’s it.” Jax snorts. Anetra shoots her a look from the driver’s seat, unbuckles herself and leads them to the lobby. Their group has dressed up for the occasion, from Luxx mimicking a holiday Barbie to Marcia’s nearly identical shorter, handmade replica of the movie’s famous gingham dress. Anetra had even come in-theme, her Barbie logo shirt and jean shorts a tad brighter than her usual wardrobe.

There’s a soft alarm blaring, clumps of people talking in disappointed murmurs to themselves. The lights are off, the cinema feeling empty without the sound of popcorn popping or tickets printing. It’s all a bit ominous; although nobody wants to admit it, they’re all thinking the same thing. 

This isn’t a good sign.

A man wearing a gigantic, cartoonish pink cowboy hat and chaps stands up on the bar, which has been cleared of its pink plastic cups and commemorative popcorn tubs. He shouts, and an entire lobby full of costumed people look over at him warily. His lips scrunch up in a sort of nervous wincing, and Anetra has never heard an entire room sigh all at once in the way this crowd does. He doesn’t even have to make the announcement before people are gathering their things, phones pressed close to their faces as they attempt to make other plans. 

“So because of the crazy storms today, we clearly lost power. The seven o’clock viewing of the Barbie movie has been cancelled. You can hang around to see if we’ll get power back soon, but only if you’re ticket holders to a later showing. We’re so sorry for the inconvenience.”

Their group is huddled together, ranting over each other about the situation. Sugar and Spice are chatting to the group of girls next to them, Robin and Jax calling out showtimes to one another and grunting when they’re coming to the fateful screen reading sold out. There’s such a turn into chaos and yet Marcia’s leaned up against a pillar with her eyes unblinking, her lips pouted. She hasn’t responded to any of the plan making, has been thumbing through her phone looking at the same screens as everyone else. 

“I think I’m going to call it.” Aura’s the first to say anything other than calling out a showtime, and the group looks up at her curiously. She’s pulling her keys from her belt bag with a non-committal shrug. 

“Oh.” Marcia replies. There’s a shift in the air, barely noticeable to the untrained eye. But of course, Anetra notices. She’s spent the last couple of months doing just that; noticing, observing, trying not to let the fumes from her lovesick heart take over the entirety of her brain space. 

Marcia’s shoulders drop, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her little gingham dress. Her bubbling energy has faded to a manageable simmer, not quite deflated yet flat enough to be declared standard. She’s not a standard person. They wave goodbye to Aura and they’re down their cheetah Barbie.  Sugar and Spice are next to leave, having clamored for new plans the moment they’d been denied their current ones. They kiss Marcia on the head affectionately and walk off giggling, heads bent over Spice’s phone. Then Jax has plans to help at home, Luxx has a date, and suddenly it’s just the two of them standing in the dissipating crowd in front of the theatre. 

The sun has begun to attempt a breakout, slivers of light caressing the rain-blackened tar of the parking lot. There aren’t many people left, just groups of bright pink sorrow slouched over their smart phones, calculating their next moves. Marcia hasn’t looked up much other than to say her goodbyes, and when she finally does Anetra’s heart breaks for her right there. Her eyes are round and widened and brimming with tears which she immediately tries to shake off.

“This is so stupid.” She moans. She brings the back of her hand to her eyes and wipes them furiously, carefully, not wanting to mess up the makeup she’d painstakingly worked on all afternoon to make herself look even more like the doll than Anetra believes she naturally does. 

She fusses with the slight curl of her corn silk hair, then lets out an involuntary sigh of defeat.

“I was really looking forward to this.”

“I know.”

“I just feel like…what now? Everyone just left. And I get we can see it another day, it’s not the end of the world at all and it’s definitely a privileged thing to be so upset about a movie, but I just…” 

The thought lingers incomplete in the air between them. The power alarm still beeps in the distance, a nagging reminder of the night’s disappointment.

“You can feel sad, y’know. It doesn’t mean you don’t care about other people’s problems. It just means that you’re human.”

“It’s a movie about a plastic doll.” She deadpans, rolling her eyes. Anetra chuckles at the display of silly ridicule; Marcia’s feigned attitude, her crossed arms and her self-scolding. There’s still something simmering underneath her wobbling sort of improv, but it’s a glimpse back into the girl she’s come to adore. 

“It’s something you’ve been looking forward to for weeks.” Anetra’s insistent, a tentative hand on Marcia’s shoulder. “We’ve had these tickets for a while, everyone got dressed up…you’ve been planning things around this for a long time. I’d be upset too.”

“I just wish it would’ve worked out. After the week I’ve had?”

“I know.” She’d been there for it all, the passed notes between classes and the frantic texts at night, drowning in a sea of homework and student council and an audition that had her climbing into Anetra’s very old truck after school crying so hard she couldn’t talk for the first three stoplights. They’d driven that day until Marcia’s curfew, stopping only to get ice cream and fries to eat on the metal benches by the walking trail downtown. She’d FaceTimed Anetra in tears twice while trying to finish her dress (because of course Marcia had to make hers from nothing but bolts of buttery soft gingham instead of buying one. And of course, even at 2am, this endeared Anetra to no end). 

This movie is what had been holding the pretty blonde together, and Mother Nature had decided to throw another wicked little wrench into Marcia’s unmatched positivity. 

Anetra won’t stand for any of it; Marcia’s posture slumped into a slight curve, her lip-shaped purse dangling recklessly from her elbow, her pretty, prized wedges dipped into a puddle made by the storm that had ruined the night.

“Come on,” She gestures across the parking lot, where her beat up truck sits proudly next to a Tesla. “It’s not over until I say it’s over.”

“What?”

“You called her a plastic doll but she’s a lot more than that to lots of people-every theater is playing this movie right now. We just have to find one with some empty seats.” 

“It’s been selling so fast. Do you really think,”

“-Who’s supposed to be the optimist here?” Anetra smirks. The truck chugs a bit when she starts it; familiar, reliable. Marcia leans her head on the passenger window, watches as Anetra puts it in reverse. She lays one hand over the back of her seat, and for a brief moment their eyes meet. Marcia’s thankful when her eyes go back to the road, thankful for the little bit of coverage the dark clouds allow her cheeks now that they match her dress. Then, both of Anetra’s hands go back on the steering wheel and they’re on neutral ground, worrying about the poor employees having to deal with their inflated version of the night’s events.

They pull up to the town’s tiny little shoebox restaurant and Anetra opens her door with the excuse of her parallel parking (although she knows it’s not as smooth as she thinks; typically, there isn’t really a danger of being hit by a car when you’re getting out on the sidewalk.) She asks if Marcia’s hungry and takes her flattened nod as a yes, leads them into the restaurant and to a table in a unfamiliar silence. This is disappointed Marcia, but it’s also hungry Marcia-a little bit of food is bound to make her at least feel human again.

She’s right.

Once they tear into their mozzarella sticks Marcia’s laughing again, taking more than her share of sauce and pretending to fight her about it like they usually do. She’s joking about the sold-out movie, about how this is a tell-tale sign of the universe taking a strike against the gays again just for fun.  Anetra has one hand on her phone, a list of cinemas open. She’s anxious and yet she still finds it hard to concentrate on anything but the girl in front of her.

The way Marcia’s smile stirs her heart, leaves it aching to burst from her chest and shout gleefully from the rooftops…she hasn’t felt anything more sacred than this in her entire life; not when winning a match, or finding people she belongs with, or even during her first time out at a pride event. There is something about the way her body aches, her thoughts feel like they’re always skipping back to the chorus of her favorite song when Marcia leans back in her seat to ask her a question during chemistry. There is something so innately tuned into Marcia within herself that she’s recognized as maybe being love, if not a heftily settled infatuation-a big fat crush, because she has to assign a term that represents the fumbling, jittery kind of longing she feels for her friend.

So she’s locked it away a bit, listening to their friends rave about their latest date or their current flings or whoever they’re looking at on dating apps with the skilled precision of the active listener she always has been. Because she’d rather call herself delusional than speak her feelings into the air. Saying it out loud would make them real. That would mean that other voices could say the same things her brain is rattling off on repeat;

She’s out of your league

She can easily get anybody she wants

You’re a really good friend-you always have been. 

That’s who you are…

A friend.

            She’s a friend who would move mountains for the pretty blonde in front of her, would willingly relinquish the aux chord for her, or skip lunch to help her run lines.She’d even spend an hour on the internet jumping through online hoops to make sure Marcia gets to see this damn movie. Because she didn’t buy the logo t-shirt she’s currently wearing with the intent to make it a staple part of her wardrobe.

            So when they pull up to a different theatre two hours later, she’s bursting with anticipation to make her announcement.

“We’re seeing the movie.”

“What?”

“I was looking the entire time we were at dinner and I found two tickets to the 9 o’clock showing. We’re not waiting until tomorrow; not when you made a dress for this. Not when you’ve been talking about this for months on end. This is important to you. We can go right now.”

Her face lights up, and it’s brilliant. She’s smiling the bright, wide smile Anetra can’t stop thinking about, jumping in her seat and dancing all of her unbridled, happy energy into the universe. She stops herself to hug the redhead, who almost melts into the touch. Then, Marcia steps back. She’s smiling still, but with a hint of apprehension-it doesn’t reach her eyes not completely. 

“I think we have to talk first.” She says. Anetra’s heart sinks into her throat.

“Why?”

“Because I’ve been trying to say something for so long but it feels like my hints aren’t being taken the way that I want them to, and now I just need to tell you directly to your face that I really, really like you. When you do sweet, thoughtful things like this it makes it impossible to stand here and accept it graciously and not grab your face and kiss you. And if that’s not how you feel it’s really okay, it’ll be alright if you give me time. But I honestly can’t take it anymore, you and your stupid truck and the blanket in the back and your cute little Barbie t-shirt, and,”

Anetra moves closer, one hand on Marcia’s shoulder and the other on her cheek. It’s taken a moment to process exactly what’s happening, the sound of Marcia’s voice and the cut of her dress and the excitement of the surprise bringing her back to life a complete distraction to the words that are coming out of her mouth. But she’s staring at the red-haired girl now, lips slightly parted, her breath hitched in her throat. And her skin is so soft under Anetra’s fingers, her eyes are so wide, and then she lets herself decode what’s happening.

I really, really like you.

Something ignites in her, propels her to close the rest of the distance between them. The initiation is quick, Anetra fearful that she’ll chicken out. But once Marcia’s lips are on hers she doesn’t want it to stop. She’s so soft, so beautifully feminine and delicate, and her fingers thread lightly through Anetra’s freshly-dyed hair like they’re trained to do it. And then she smiles into it, sighs, and Anetra’s lost all sense of time or place or direction. She’s just Anetra, the girl with the red hair and the beat-up truck and the sense that if she didn’t have basic human needs she could stay here and kiss Marcia for the rest of her life, and that would be just fine.

“So…” Marcia’s practically singing when they finally break for air, leaning her head on her seat. She’s flushed pink, and she bites her just-kissed lip with a brow raised in curiosity. “This is a good sign, then.”

“I really like you too.” She’s still nervous to send the confession into the air, even after their kiss had shattered her ability to think straight, even with Marcia’s incandescent smile upon finally hearing the words for herself.

“I didn’t want to tell anybody.” The redhead elaborates. “I think, for me, it just…I felt ridiculous. And maybe delusional.”

Marcia laughs, then-actually tilts her head back and giggles. And then she’s reaching for Anetra’s hand, linking their fingers together with that same unmatched fluttering feeling. 

“The only delusional thing about you is that you couldn’t see my very clear motives. I have moves.”

“You have moves.” She deadpans. Marcia leans back incredulously, crosses her arms like a child.

“I tried my hardest, okay?! I’m not really used to reading signals that aren’t just gross men trying to get into my pants.”

“So you’re saying that instead of doing the technological gymnastics of trying to get these tickets all I had to do was grab your ass and call you princess?”

The blonde splutters a bit, rakes a hand through her hair. She makes a quick move for her seatbelt, tugging it over her chest.

“We can go now, I don’t really want to see this movie anyway.”

Anetra stares back at her, mouth opening and then closing abruptly before Marcia lets go, sending the belt flying back into its clip.

“I’m just kidding!” she shuffles herself over the console and takes Anetra’s cheeks in her hands, kissing her hard and pulling away with a satisfied smirk. “I’m just mad that I won’t want to do anything but kiss you for the next hour and 54 minutes.” 

The shuffles herself out of the truck, smoothing out her dress and checking her reflection in the side mirror one last time. Anetra watches in a daze, her lips tingling and her body humming, the world a soft cocktail of disbelief and absolute bliss. She starts when Marcia calls her name, opening the drivers side door with sweet-natured, dramatic impatience.

“Come on! We’re going to be late!”  

She grabs hold of Anetra’s hand, pulls her so their sides brush together as they walk. She keeps a grip on her arm, and it’s still shocking every time she leans over to kiss her cheek. The cinema lobby is covered in pink; balloon arches and streamers and big cardboard cutouts. 

“Can you take our picture?” She hands her phone to the cowgirl with enthusiasm, pulls Anetra eagerly into the life-sized box. Her arms fly around Anetra’s neck, her lips lingering on her cheek for the pose. Anetra’s arms wrap tentatively around Marcia’s waist and she’s met with her body pressed as close as it can be, the blonde squeezing her in a tight embrace. 

And as the stranger calls out an enthusiastic ‘cheese!’, Anetra has never loved this little plastic doll more.