“Good,” her mom replied, smiling as she sipped her tea.
There was a tangible relaxing of the atmosphere. An olive branch had been extended and accepted. The butterfly habitat was obviously a special place to Pinky and her mom; and Samir, like everyone at the table, was glad Mr. Montclair had brought it up.
“Hey. Where’s Dolly?” Pinky said suddenly, clutching her cup of coffee to her and looking around as if she’d just realized her cousin was missing. Which she probably had. Pinky wasn’t the speediest thinker in the morning.
“She went for a run,” Mrs. Montclair said. “Needed to clear her head, apparently.”
Pinky cocked an eyebrow. “I’m sure she did,” she muttered, though Samir didn’t think any of the adults heard her. He wondered if she was talking about Cash the Rash.
She gulped down half her coffee, wincing (probably at the heat), and set her mug down in the sink. “I’m gonna take Drama Queen for a walk.” Before her parents could say anything else, she zombie-walked toward the stairs.
Samir finished up his food and took his plate and glass to the sink too, rinsing them quickly and sticking them in the dishwasher. “I’ll keep her company.” He smiled at the adults and walked up the stairs, frowning.
Pinky was putting Drama Queen’s halter on her. She’d already changed from her pajamas into a pair of shorts and a Pride T-shirt. She glanced at him. “Oh. Hey.”
“Hey.” Samir leaned against the doorjamb. “You just got a sudden itch to take Drama Queen on a walk?”
“DQ needs to go.” She scooped the marsupial up and walked over to slip on her flip-flops.
“Right.” Like he was buying that. Pinky was definitely up to something. And he was curious. “You mind if I keep you company?”
She stopped on her way out the door and looked up at him, her eyes deceptively innocent and wide. “Oh. You? Now?”
He shrugged. “I mean, I think it’ll look pretty weird to your parents if I stay here and hang out with them, don’t you think?”
She looked torn. Seeming to come to a decision, she nodded once. “Okay, fine. Come on.”
Outside, they walked in the nearly oppressive sunshine in complete silence while Drama Queen rushed around sniffing bushes and leaves and grass. Samir brushed his hair back and glanced at Pinky. He could tell she was strolling toward the lake in a way she hoped looked casual, taking a path he hadn’t seen her walk DQ on before.
“Where are we going?” he asked lightly.
She shook her head. “Oh, nowhere. I just thought it’d be nice to go this way, you know, let DQ really stretch her legs today.”
“Uh-huh.”
They hung a right, making their way around the lake to the houses on the other side. “So what’d you mean when you said, ‘I’m sure she did’?”
Pinky snapped her head to look at him. “What?”
“Back there, in the kitchen,” Samir said, pointing his thumb behind them. “Your aunt said Dolly went out for a run to clear her head, and you said—”
“I was just agreeing with her,” Pinky said, but she wouldn’t meet his eye anymore. She had this determined look on her face as they marched onward, closer to the houses on the other side. DQ was practically running to keep up with them.
A cooling breeze off the lake wrapped them both up. Samir nodded. “Right, just agreeing with her. So the sarcasm I thought I detected…?”
“Wasn’t there.” Pinky straightened, paying more attention now to the group of people on the far side of one of the houses.
Samir squinted; it looked like a group about half a dozen large, all around his and Pinky’s age, clustered in a side yard, laughing and talking. “Who are they?” he asked, though he was pretty sure he knew.
“You’ll recognize them. Just wait,” Pinky said, her lips in a thin line.
As they got closer, Samir saw that one of the people was Dolly. She was leaning against a large horse chestnut tree, dressed in running shorts and a tank top. Her face had a strange expression on it, like she wasn’t even sure why she was there. And next to her was Cash the Rash, tall and muscular, his arm slung casually around her shoulders. His hair flopped in his face, he wore Ray-Bans today and a polo shirt with the collar popped again, and he was smirking as he said something. Samir felt the same dislike he’d felt the first time they’d met like a bitter powder in his throat.
“Hey, Dolly,” Pinky called when they got closer. “How’s your run going?”
Dolly’s face registered first shock and then shame as she took in Pinky’s and Samir’s presence. Sliding Cash’s arm off her, she walked down to them. Cash caught Samir’s eye, said something to the short, dark-skinned boy next to him, who then also stared at Samir. Samir let his gaze slide right over them and to Dolly.
“Hey,” Dolly said, when she was on the sidewalk. DQ came up, sniffed her shins, and then went back to sniffing the grass. “What are you guys doing here?”
Pinky raised an eyebrow. “Really? Sneaking out to hang with Cash and his crew?”
Dolly’s cheeks were pink. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and looked away. “He texted me and I didn’t want to have to explain to my parents.”
Pinky’s shoulders sagged. “Dude, I’m not here to judge you. Goddess knows I have no right after all the crap I’ve pulled. But, like, are you even having fun? Because it looked like you were undergoing a painful dental procedure rather than hanging out with friends.”
Dolly sighed and massaged her temples. “I don’t know. Seriously. What am I doing?” She glanced at Samir, as if expecting an answer.
Startled at being addressed in this fashion (he’d honestly started to zone out a bit), Samir ventured, “Um… getting some air?” He didn’t like Cash, but he was in no position to give Dolly boyfriend advice. He’d never even been in a relationship himself.
She laughed a little. “Yeah. Getting some air is about right. I just need to do something different, you know?”
Again, she was talking to him. He nodded in what he hoped was an intelligent way. Was she having some kind of crisis? Shouldn’t her parents, the therapists, be involved with this? Feeling completely inadequate, he said, “Yeah, totally. Do something different.”
“I mean, don’t you ever get tired of doing the same old stuff every single day?” she asked him earnestly. “Get up, eat breakfast, blah, blah, blah. Conform, conform, conform. Do what they want you to.”
“Not really. Doing the same stuff every day is good for you.” But something about what she’d said niggled at him. He’d felt that same sense of ennui when he was still under his mom’s thumb, not too long ago. Was he still, in some ways, carrying that burden with him? Was that why he was so… controlled? He blinked. No, come on. He was so controlled and orderly because he liked to be. It was a choice. He could stop anytime he wanted.
“Yo, Dolls,” Cash called, interrupting Samir’s reverie. “We’re going to go hang out at Krab’s crib. You coming or what?”
A freckled, shirtless redheaded boy who was sprawled on the grass sat up and flashed them a peace sign.
“His name is Krab?” Pinky asked, her expression unreadable.