One of the figures screamed and the other yelled, “Holy mother of what the hell!” and then Pinky felt someone grab her wrists with big hands so she couldn’t do the impaling part of her plan.
“Pinky?”
“Samir?” She squinted in the faint light of the stars. “Dolly?”
“Yeah,” Dolly said, and it sounded like she was on the verge of hyperventilating and dying. “We—we followed you out to make sure you were going to be okay.”
Samir let go of her wrists. “What were you doing? Are those your boots?”
“They also function as impromptu eye impalers,” Pinky said sheepishly, setting them on the ground and slipping them back on her feet. Then she straightened. “You guys didn’t need to come after me. I told you not to follow me.”
“No, you told me to stay, which is different,” Samir said.
“I know how much that butterfly habitat means to you,” Dolly added. “And you’re right. It’s wrong that nobody said anything when they announced it at the country club. I bet a lot of people are sad about it, though, just like you.”
“Again, I’m not sad—I’m mad,” Pinky clarified as they all began walking again.
“Well, I’m sad,” Dolly said. Her glittery blue dress gave off winks of light as they walked. “That place is an institution. I have so many happy memories there from when I was a kid too. I don’t want them to destroy it either.”
“I visit it every year, at least once before I go home,” Pinky said, softening a bit. “It gets more and more incredible.”
It was dark, but the softness in Samir’s eyes shone through as he looked at her. It was like something had shifted between them on the rooftop. They’d been more real with each other in those twenty minutes than they’d been over the last few days combined.
“I’m still excited to see it,” Samir said.
“Sure, we can go tomorrow,” Pinky said, touched that he hadn’t forgotten. And, she realized with a little start of surprise, she wanted to show him. He was someone who’d show it the proper respect. Turning to Dolly, she added, “When’d they say the developer’s beginning construction?”
“August tenth,” Dolly said. “Right before we leave.”
“Right before we leave,” Pinky mused. She could feel her internal Kali waking up and stretching. Hungry. “That’s what they think.”
* * *
Drama Queen “died” while Pinky was putting on her halter and leash three days later—the same halter and leash she put on and took off her seven times a day to acclimate her and with which she’d had no problems previously—so she stuffed her face-up in her tote bag to prevent suffocation and turned to the mirror. She was wearing a purple tank top that showed a peek of her midriff and black shorts with silver stars on them. She thought she looked pretty cute for someone who had plans to eff up a developer’s whole summer.
Smiling at her reflection, Pinky slid her feet into her purple Converse and made her way outside. Samir stood by her parents’ rental car in a button-down shirt with his sleeves rolled up, his broad shoulders outlined nicely in the fabric. He had a casual, quiet confidence about him that was almost breathtaking. Other boys she’d dated for real had been brash and swaggery, loud and proud about their originality and stubborn independence. But Samir was different. It was like he knew exactly what made him cool, and he was happy keeping that information to himself. He didn’t need to impress anyone besides himself.
Looking up, he smiled at her, a clean-cut, classically handsome, dentist-ad smile. Really not her thing. Normally. And yet, for just a moment, her pulse beat a little bit quicker. Before she told her pulse it was being ridiculous and forced it to calm down.
“Hey,” he said, his eyes inscrutable through his shades. “You ready?”
Bringing her mind to the task at hand, Pinky nodded. “I think so.”
* * *
She pulled her parents’ rental into the large ad hoc gravel cul-de-sac where all visitors to the butterfly habitat parked. She and Samir were the only people there and for that she was glad.
Speaking of… Pinky glanced at Samir as they got out and began to walk in the still summer sunshine. “Um, my mom suggested you come out here with me because we’re dating. I mean, you know, she thinks we’re dating. You didn’t really have to come.” She adjusted her tote bag, replete with “dead” marsupial on her shoulder, feeling mildly off-kilter. Samir seemed to have that effect lately.
He shrugged, stuffing his sunglasses into his shirt pocket. “I know I didn’t have to. I wanted to.”
Something fluttered inside her. Weird. She watched her feet sink into the grass as they crossed a small circular field. “Why?”
“Honestly?”
“Yeah, honestly.”
“Because it was pretty obvious from the way you got so upset that this means something really special to you. And I’m guessing it’s not very often people get to see a softer side of you, so…”
Pinky glared at him. “So it was just morbid curiosity?” Of course it was.
He stopped walking and studied her with a strange intensity. A gentle, warm breeze wafted through, pushing a strand of his thick black hair onto his forehead. Pinky stopped walking too, helplessly drawn in by those eyes. “I don’t know why you said ‘just.’ Morbid curiosity isn’t a bad thing. I am curious about you, and I won’t apologize for it.” He held her gaze; her irritation melted away and she felt a touch breathless.
“Oh, right, sure,” she said, her thoughts all tangled up in a big, messy ball in her brain. He was curious about her? What did that mean? Why was he so curious? Because she was some kind of circus freak to him or… or for other reasons?
Argh. It was too much to deal with.
“Um, it’s right through there,” she said, apropos of nothing, pointing toward a grove of pine trees. “Let’s keep walking.”
She could feel Samir’s gaze on her back, but thankfully he began walking and caught up to her a second later. “Wow,” he said after another moment had gone by. “It’s quiet.”
“Yeah.” Pinky smiled as they passed through the opening in the grove of pines. “It’s far enough away from all the houses and development that it feels pretty secluded. It was a team effort,” she added, trailing her hand softly against the rhododendron bushes as she and Samir walked together. “So many summer people and people from town pitched in to build this. What you’re seeing is the result of, like, fourteen or fifteen years of careful cultivation and preservation.”
Samir whistled low just as a red admiral butterfly flitted past him. “Fifteen years. It was worth it, obviously. I mean, this place looks like a beautiful, colorful jungle. How many varieties of butterflies come through here?”
Pinky cast him an irritated look. “I don’t know. A lot? What does it even matter exactly how many varieties of butterflies we have?”
He looked disbelievingly back. “Isn’t this one of your favorite places on the island?”
“Oh yes, I’m so sorry, I forgot who I was talking to. I’ll be sure to ask them to set up a placard just for you.”