“With a K,” Dolly confirmed, her face regretful. She sighed. “Yeah, I’m coming,” she called to Cash, with less enthusiasm than Samir felt for the idea of meditation (it was too unstructured). Then, turning to Pinky and Samir, she said, “Do… you guys want to go too?”
Pinky shook her head. “Less than I want to enlist in the army. Look, you don’t need to go do this to prove something to someone, okay?”
“Easy for you to say, Ms. Counterculture,” Dolly said, crossing her arms. “I need to do this, Pinky. To see who else I’m capable of being besides vanilla, boring, predictable Dolly.”
“I’ve made a lot of mistakes I wish I hadn’t made,” Pinky argued. “Seriously. You’re just seeing the rosy, happy side of—”
“Well, then let me make my own mistakes,” Dolly replied. “Okay?”
Pinky sighed, and Samir could tell she was biting back her frustration. “Okay, fine. You have fun if you can. But be careful. And text me if you need me to come get you or give you an excuse to leave or anything.”
Dolly hugged her. “Thanks, Pinky. Cover for me with the parental units?”
“Of course,” Pinky replied.
Waving to her and Samir, Dolly walked off to join the group again.
After a long second, Pinky turned to go, and Samir followed. He glanced at her sidelong, seeing the tightness in her shoulders, the way she kept nibbling at her lower lip. “You’re worried about her,” he ventured as they walked.
“A little,” Pinky allowed. “Mostly I really don’t trust that group. They’re very rarely up to any good. And I think Dolly’s just with Cash to prove something, and that’s usually the worst reason to go out with someone. I should know.”
Hmm. Samir sort of wanted ask her what she meant by that, but he realized he also kind of didn’t want to know what other boys she’d dated. Weird.
“Yeah, maybe,” he said, pulling his mind away from that train of thought, closing his eyes when another cool breeze came off the lake, lowering his temperature. “All that stuff she said, though? About being tired of the same stuff, day in and day out? I can relate.”
“Oh yeah?” Pinky said, glancing at him. Out on the water, someone started up a Jet Ski. “With your mom, you mean?”
“Yep. It got really tiring, you know. Doing what she expected of me all the time, never really being free to do what I wanted.” Samir looked at her. “Not that I expect you to know anything about that.”
“Right, because being constantly criticized for all your shortcomings is so much easier,” she said, adding her trademark snort at the end.
Samir thought about it. Pinky was criticized a lot perhaps. But she was also freer than most other people in a way. He was coming to see that now, bit by bit. “No,” he said finally. “I guess it wouldn’t be any easier. But at least you’re doing what you want to do. You’re living by your own standards.”
Pinky gaped at him. “Oh my God, Samir Jha. Was that a compliment about my—what was it you said at the lighthouse? Oh yes, my ‘immaturity and my irresponsibility’?”
He smirked. “Don’t push it. I’m just a breath away from a litany of insults.”
Pinky laughed and shook her head. “I’m not surprised.” They let DQ sniff around for another moment, and then Pinky tugged on the leash so the marsupial would leave the pinecone she was nibbling and follow them. “You know, Dolly says stuff like that too, about my rebellious streak. But sometimes I wonder if it’s selfish, you know. My mom certainly seems to think so.”
“Your mom loves you,” Samir said. He turned to her and put his hands on her shoulders, waiting until she met his eye. Something sparked between them. “You’re an easy person to… to love.” Oh crap. Why had he said that? It had just slipped out of him, ridiculous and saccharine. Was that too much? It was definitely too much. She was staring at him, but with Pinky, it was hard to say if she was happy or getting ready to knee you in the nads.
“You really think so?” she said softly. Okay, so his nads were safe for the moment.
He nodded solemnly. “I know so.” And because he thought she needed to hear it again, he said it again. “Your mom loves you.”
“Yeah. But does she like me?” Pinky asked, looking up at him and then out at the lake to their right. “That’s what I ask myself the most.”
He didn’t really know what to say to that, so he slipped his hands from her shoulders so they could continue on their walk. As they headed closer to home, Samir realized they hadn’t fought once on this outing. Maybe he should alert Guinness.
CHAPTER 9 Pinky
Later that night, long after the parents were in bed, Dolly tapped on Pinky’s door.
“Hey,” she said, walking in wearing a cotton nightshirt and shorts, both of which were splattered with happy, smiling cartoon hearts. “We haven’t really had a chance to talk alone yet.”
“Mm-hmm,” Pinky said, setting her Kindle off to the side. She’d been sprawled diagonally on her bed, reading. “I noticed you sneaking in right before dinner. And then you came downstairs with wet hair.”
Dolly made a face and sat at the foot of her bed, the bedsprings creaking softly. “They were smoking, and I knew my parents would be all over that if they smelled it.”
Pinky bit back the thousand replies she wanted to make. Dolly had already told her to back off, and that’s exactly what she’d do. She wasn’t a meddler. In fact, she prided herself on how un-meddly she was.
“What?” Dolly said, giving Pinky a look. “I can tell you want to say something. So let’s hear it.”
“Well, it’s less things I want to say and more things I don’t want to say. I’m an un-meddler.”
Dolly continued to stare at her with an arched eyebrow.
“Ugh, fine. I definitely don’t want to say that Cash is not the kind of guy you want to ‘prove yourself’ with. It’s definitely not the same as someone wanting to become a snake charmer sticking their hand into a pit full of vipers instead of starting with, say, a corn snake.”
Dolly looked at her for a second and then laughed. “Oh, good. I’m glad you definitely didn’t say all that.”
Pinky sighed. Sitting up, she hugged her knees to her chest. “Dolly… he already burned down our barn. He doesn’t even make you happy.”
Dolly sank back against the footboard and thought about this. “Well, no, he doesn’t make me happy. But you know what? Doing this kinda does make me happy. I didn’t know I had it in me, you know? Even if Cash isn’t the love of my life or anything, at least I’m doing something different.”
Pinky stifled a remark about how she hoped Dolly wasn’t literally doing Cash. “Okay. Well, if you’re happy then… great.” It was obvious Dolly wasn’t happy, but it was like she said before—she needed to make her own mistakes.
“So, tell me.” Dolly pulled a pillow to her and hugged it. “How are things with your mom now?”
A cool breeze blew in the open window, stirring the curtains. “Great. As evidenced by our very civil behavior at dinner.”