Wednesday evening after afterschool classes was when Dollface had told the biggest white lie in her life.
Actually, it had been multiple.
All adding up to somewhat less than the truth.
For Dollface, lies were like needles poking into her eyes, seedy and painful, leading to nothing more than betrayal.
But some were necessary.
Like when Dollface was little and wasn't even allowed to know who her father was.
But Dollface had no choice but to crumble when Laura sat in her lap while waiting for the bus and said, "I think you're one of my favorite people."
Dollface had awkwardly shifted, not sure what this abrupt change of position had been brought on by and said, "That's nice o'you t'say."
"You have a lot of skirts on."
Dollface was so thankful for foundation.
It hid her reddening face.
"I've been makin' a buncha petticoats during the slower parts o'class." Dollface said, trying very hard not to ogle Laura's knees. Dollface knew Laura liked to hike and roll her skirt up.
Laura laughed, a bubbling, sweet sound.
Dollface's butterflies started landing.
"What's wrong?" Laura asked as Dollface sighed, trying to calm herself.
"Oh, nothing." She smiled, hoping Laura bought it, "I'm just not used to, uh, girls sittin' on m'lap."
"I do it all the time." Laura rolled her grey eyes.
Dollface let out a pained, nervous chuckled.
"Tell me more about you,"Laura said.
"Why?" Dollface looked at the rings on her right hand. They left green stripes on her skin.
"I've been wanting to learn more about you." Laura said, "If you are going to be my bestie, I have to know you."
Dollface leaned back on the bus bench and stared at the grey skies turned pink with rose gold aviators.
"Well, I guess I'll start with an easy one, why'd you get sent here?" Laura asked, "Were you sent by your parents? What do they do for a living?"
And that's when the lies came out.
Lies to protect Dollface.
"I don't know m'parents." Dollface said. "I went t'my mama's funeral when I was five an'I saw a stranger dumped dead on th'highway."
"And your daddy?" Laura whispered, seeing how Dollface's voice dropped to a near masculine, more natural range.
"Dunno." Dollface frowned, "Prolly some junkie in St. Louie."
Laura frowned.
"I'm th'oldest, by th'way." Dollface said, "I dunno how many o'us there are."
Laura sat sidesaddle on her lap, crushing Dollface. They were about the same size, but Dollface was somehow not particularly upset about it. She actually kinda liked it.
"Oh," Laura said. She held onto one of Dollface's scabbed hands and played with the rings on it.
Dollface sat silent, fingertips twitching.
There were no more students at this point.
The bus had left.
Dollface's fingers wanted to remember her bass's thick strings, stretched and ready for a new piece to be placed in front of her.
"I live wit'my grandparents in a town called Elmore." Dollface said, "I got a scholarship for design 'cause m'gramma retired t'be th'tailor."
And that's when Dollface started telling the truth, letting stories pour out of her mouth. Maybe some parts were stretched, like how Uncle Mike and his wife Raina were still alive and had kids and that Vinnie hadn't been brutally murdered by his stepfather but narrowly survived a made-up drive-by and how his girlfriend Dolli Mae was so happy he was alive.
But Dollface told the whole truth as well, like sneaking past old man Krueger and Jason at the convenience store to grab drinks and have picnics or wandering the midnight streets with Wolfie. Running to the town's only attraction other than the community center/theatre with Izzy and Princess and playing video games. Stories about Joey Drew Studios and the different urban legends around it and the night the Boogeyman came brought out genuine shivers of fear and excitement from Laura.
Dollface told Laura about the only two boys in town she wasn't related to, telling her about how tall and strong they were from football and farmwork.
Laura seemed disgusted when she learned about how Dollface spent her summer after eighth grade mucking horse stalls for Aunt Karen then smiled about working for Aunt Karen's husband Joe Daisy's ice cream parlor a year later.
Dollface recounted tales of tiptoeing into the woods with all her friends every summer to have a bonfire on her birthday before school started.
Oh, how wonderful for someone to listen!
To listen to Dollface ramble about Grampa's boy scout troop and sitting under the stars in deer stands during the off season or sleeping in tree houses, working in a tailor shop or riding along with Grampa in his pickup truck to help with odd jobs.
What it was like clearing roofs off for five dollars a roof, talking to Uncle Mike about how much they wanted to be pilots but couldn't because they would always end up being the wrong size.
Sitting on String Bean's shoulders and riding horses in the parades and laying on Thorne in the winter when everything was still and quiet.
All about the Cowatch versus Cowatchsky feud that started during the Civil War and now diminished to petty notes and pranks and anything else she could think of to tell the wonderful, beautiful ever perfect Laura.
Finally, Dollface just plain ran out of things to say.
Laura, legs stretched out on the bench with one arm around Dollace's neck, sighed.
Dollface didn't want to tell this perfect being the bad stuff, like staying up all night just to bead one sleeve and crying the next morning until she passed out.
She didn't talk about the yearly visits or the perpetually failing grades, or the inability to understand why Missy hated her so much.
Or how Old man Krueger was lynched, and how most of the men had PTSD from a war most of the families of her peers could easily just buy out of.
Laura rested her head on Dollface's thin shoulder, making her blush again as butterflies swarmed into a formation.
"I think that's just beautiful." Laura said, as Dollface felt a mascara-tinted tear trickle from under her heavily tinted and mirrored Aviators.