“Coffee first,” Pinky mumbled, walking over to the coffee maker.
Pinky
It was around three thirty in the afternoon. Pinky, Samir, and Dolly were sitting on the front porch playing Uno, a pitcher of homemade watermelon lemonade sweating on the table between them. The occasional car or SUV trundled by on the street and there were a few boats out on the lake, but for the most part, it was quiet besides the singing of chickadees and blue jays.
“Oh, hells to the yes,” Pinky sang, raising her hands in victory. She accidentally knocked one of the striped cushions off the wicker rocking chair, but barely noticed in her victorious glee. “One more card and I’m at Uno, suck-ahs!”
Samir, sitting across the table from her on the love seat, raised an eyebrow. He was sweaty and pink-cheeked; the ceiling fan above them didn’t seem to be doing much except pushing the hot air around. “Draw four, suck-ah,” he sang back to her, playing a Draw Four card.
“Dammit!” Pinky yelled as Dolly cracked up on her right. “How do you keep doing that?”
“Pride goeth before a fall,” Samir intoned, mock seriously. “The universe is on my side, clearly.”
“I need a Reverse card,” Pinky mumbled, cutting her eyes to Dolly. “Then you can deal with him.”
“No, thank you!” Dolly said sweetly, taking a sip of her lemonade. “I’m happy going after you. You’re too distracted to keep track of my cards.”
“Pah!” Pinky said, knowing Dolly was right. She narrowed her eyes at Samir. “Next round? You’re going down.”
“Bring it,” he said, though the seriousness of his threat was marred somewhat by the sweat dribbling into his eye.
“If you’re not a Samir-shaped raisin by then.” Pinky snorted.
“Oh, Uno, nice. I haven’t played that since I was, like, twelve.”
They all looked up at the drawling male voice to see Cash Miller strolling up the porch steps, his Gucci sunglasses on, the collar of his shirt popped. He must’ve walked over from his house, but in spite of the sweltering heat, his hair and clothes were immaculate.
“Ugh, this guy,” Pinky mumbled, just as Dolly said, “Hi, Cash. Would you like to join us? We’ve got watermelon lemonade, too.”
Samir caught Pinky’s eye and raised an eyebrow, probably in an attempt to guilt her for her inhospitable response. It didn’t work, though. She stuck her tongue out at him quickly before turning back to her cards.
“Maybe just for a minute,” Cash replied, sauntering over to Dolly in a cloud of cologne. He sat in the empty chair next to her, throwing his legs over the side. Maybe because the heat was so stifling, his musk-scented cologne permeated the air and seemed to jab itself aggressively up Pinky’s nose.
“Hey,” Samir said, after a moment of awkward silence, rising and holding his card-free hand out. “I’m Samir. Pinky’s… boyfriend.”
Pinky darted a glance at Cash and Dolly, but neither of them seemed to have noticed the minuscule hesitation.
Still wearing his sunglasses, Cash curled his hand into a fist, probably wanting Samir to do the same. But Samir just stood there with his hand outstretched, earning the tips of his fingers a fist bump.
Samir’s smile faded away and he sat back down, a small frown between his eyebrows. Ha, Pinky thought. Bet he didn’t think he’d meet someone more mannerless than me this summer.
“So, this is it, seriously? You guys are just sitting here playing Uno?” Cash remarked, grinning around at them. Then, swinging his hairy legs back around and leaning in close, he added in a near whisper, “Come on. You’ve mixed some rum in there at least, right?” He nodded toward the pitcher of lemonade.
Pinky looked at her reflection in his stupid sunglasses and rolled her eyes. “It’s just lemonade, and we’re just playing Uno.”
Dolly smiled, but it looked pained. “Yep.”
Cash huffed and looked at Samir. “Dude. You’re sitting here with two hot girls and you’re playing Uno and drinking lemonade? Really?”
Oh man. Pinky felt almost bad for Samir. There was no way someone like him could take on someone like—
“Pinky already answered that question,” Samir said, his voice level and calm, his eyes never leaving Cash’s (well, the proximity of his eyes… it was impossible to see his actual eyes behind those reflective, douchey shades). “And now we’d like to get back to our game. So feel free to leave.”
Whoa. Pinky stared at Samir, her mouth dropping open. She had not been expecting that. He continued to gaze coolly at Cash.
Something hummed in the air between the two; Pinky was half afraid Cash was going to launch himself at Samir or something. But in the end, he just scoffed, got up, and began to make his way over to the stairs, “accidentally” knocking into Samir’s chair with his knee as he walked past. Samir’s eyes blazed and a muscle in his jaw twitched, but he didn’t respond.
“Text me later,” Cash called over his shoulder to Dolly. Then, doing his one-finger salute in the air, he sauntered down the steps without a backward look at any of them.
Dolly cleared her throat, opened her mouth like she wanted to say something, and then closed it again. Instead, she took a deep drink of her lemonade.
“So, I think it was your turn, Pinky,” Samir said casually, and she got the feeling he was giving Dolly a way out without having to make excuses for her douchey friend.
She smiled at him and registered his slight shock at the lack of sarcasm in it before drawing four cards from the deck in the center. Pinky had the unshakable feeling this wouldn’t be the last time Samir Jha would surprise her this summer.
Samir
About an hour after the visit from Douchey McDouche (if he was Dolly’s boyfriend, Samir had seriously misjudged her decision-making capabilities), Mr. Yeung summoned them to the living room.
“Boggle!” he said, holding up the bright orange box when they were all seated on the many scattered couches and armchairs. The other adults were already in the room, sipping on iced teas and Arnold Palmers. “It’s tournament time, baby.”
“Oh no,” Pinky muttered, leaning her head back on the oversize blue-and-white-striped couch. “When Dad starts calling people ‘baby,’ you know he’s in his overexcited, competitive mode.”
“I’m not overexcited!” Mr. Yeung said, though the glint in his eye said otherwise. “Come on, baby!”
“It’s best to just nod and smile,” Mr. Montclair said to Samir. “Easier.”
Samir obliged by nodding and smiling, and everyone laughed.
Mrs. Montclair handed out pads of paper and little pencils to everyone.
“Oh, I’m going to need a bigger pad than that!” Mr. Yeung grinned. “For all the words I’m going to write!”
“Daaad…,” Pinky said, rolling her eyes.
“Ready?” Ms. Kumar looked around at all of them solemnly. It was obvious she took her husband’s hobby very seriously. “I’m going to start the timer, and when it runs out, you have to immediately set your pencils down. Even if you’re mid-word.”
“And that word doesn’t count,” Mr. Yeung clarified darkly. “Also, if you make a word that’s not actually allowed by the rules of the game, you face an automatic ten-point deduction.”