Unspoken Oaths

Barbie moves through the lesson like a woman who already knows the outcome. Each session with Zazie and Alexa swells with sweet perfume and sealed lips, her praise heavier than the texts they pretend to study. She leans close, voice low, while they bend over papers in silk skirts that slide higher with every turn of a pen. Money passes quietly each month: tips for “progress,” extra for silence. Zazie feels Barbie’s hand brush her thigh beneath the desk, Alexa notices but stays quiet, cheeks flush while sentences stutter. The game tightens in the afternoon hush—Barbie directing small mouths with an encouraging finger, gently pushing their boundaries further than any curriculum allows. The girls come away stained, quieter, richer with secret knowledge. They return each week, turning down another lesson, envelope heavy, eyes bright with something they know cannot be named aloud.