Barbara's slender body tensed like a coiled snake, ready to strike. Her hands clenched into fists. She looked just angry enough to use them!
"If you think I'm going to go anywhere filthy to get those stupid, insignificant boxes of crap, you're out of your frizzy headed little mind!!"
"My hair is not frizzy, it's curly! At least it's colour is real, and not out of a bottle! What colour is your real hair now, Barbie doll? The last time you were here, it was the colour of a dirty brown mouse!"
Lillian sneered the name, "Barbie doll" like an epithet. Barbara had hated it when she was five years, old, and from her response, she still did.
In the blink of an eye, Lillian had gone from the sweet, shy twenty year old she was now, to the little six year old scrapper she had been when the Ogdens had lived there. Barbara just had that affect on her.
Barbara's face turned red, and she sputtered with rage.
"My... hh.. hair is not..m... mousey!!!"
She made an abrupt lunge at Lillian, grabbed a handful of hair, and yanked.
Even though Ron was between the two girls, he hadn't seen this coming. Barbara had jumped past him before he could do anything.
Lillian all but howled in pain.
Barbara stared at the fistful of auburn curls in surprise. She was selfish, spoilt, petulant, and prone to moodiness, but she had never been violent.
She had never slapped, bit, or spit at her peers growing up, She felt she was above street fighting. She was more likely to sulk or whine to get her own way.
Her hands relaxed as she stepped back from the scene of her crime, and the hair drifted to the floor. The auburn hair had left a trail of blood in the palms of her hands.
Barbara had pulled Lillian's hair out by the roots!!
Barbara rubbed her hands together like lady Macbeth, trying to get the blood off.
Suddenly without any warning, and as a complete surprise to everyone, Barbara began to cry. They weren't big fake, alligator tears, they were a stream of silent testaments of remorse.
" J..Just how im..por..tant were ..those boxes..to.. you?"
Barbara sobbed as she put her hands up to cover her now soaking wet face.
Ignoring the question, Lillian turned away from Barbara and buried her weeping face in Gordon's chest. He put his arms around her, and put one hand to her head, where the hair had been pulled. Feeling wetness on his palm, he took his hand away, and saw a small amount of blood.
With the quiet calm of cold blooded fury, Gordon protected his beloved foster daughter in the only way he could, legally. He reached for the cell phone in his shirt pocket.
"I'm calling the police. Barbara, you will be charged with assault, and larceny for the theft of those boxes. You are legally an adult, and you will do jail time, even if it puts me in the poor house!"