“I like you,” she whispered, against his mouth. “I like you, Samir Jha.”
And then they were kissing, and she felt a dozen soft wings all over her arms, her legs, brushing against her hair, as if the butterflies too were celebrating in this astonishing and exhilarating fact.
Samir
“I can’t believe you’re leaving for three whole weeks,” Pinky said.
She and Samir were standing hand in hand in the driveway the next day, watching Dolly’s family pack up their rental Jetta. Pinky’s parents were talking to Dolly’s parents by the car.
“I know.” Dolly reached over and hugged Pinky, her eyes shut tight. “I’m gonna miss you guys.” Pulling back, she looked at them both with a sly smile. “But be honest—it’s not like you two lovebirds will even know I’m gone.”
Pinky flushed. Samir knew she’d told Dolly what had happened at the habitat—how she and Samir had confessed their feelings for each other and began officially going out (for real)—and apparently Dolly had been completely ecstatic for Pinky and Samir.
“That’s not true!” Pinky said in mock outrage.
“Yeah, yeah.” Dolly smirked. Then, getting serious, she said, “You’ve got the streets I laid out for you to canvass, right? Damn, I wish I could stay.”
“Yep, we’ve got them,” Samir replied, feeling bad for her. She’d obviously much rather be here, doing stuff for the butterflies, than off in Vermont on some kids-who’ve-screwed-up retreat. “And we’re gonna get started on that tomorrow.”
Pinky sighed. “Have a good time—as good as you can anyway. I really don’t feel like you even need to go, though. I mean, you learned your lesson, right?”
On cue, an orange Jeep Wrangler drove by, and a dude yelled out an expletive. An empty beer can landed on the driveway.
Mr. Montclair looked livid. “I might just put in a call to Dr. Miller. Tell him what his son is up to.”
Mrs. Montclair put a hand on his arm. “Let’s just go.” She called over to Dolly, “Ready, honey?”
Dolly sighed. “Hopefully in three weeks, Cash will be over himself.”
Pinky and Dolly hugged again, and then Dolly trudged over to her parents’ car and climbed in. Mrs. Montclair walked over to Pinky, pulled her to the side, and gave her a hug. She whispered something to her, but Pinky shook her head. Sighing, Meera cupped Pinky’s chin and walked away. Samir could imagine what had been said; Meera wanted Pinky to talk to her mom, and Pinky had demurred.
Pinky’s parents, Pinky, and Samir waved to them as they drove off.
“Well.” Samir turned to Pinky as her parents walked back into the house. “It’s just us now.”
She smiled up at him. “Just us.”
* * *
The next morning, Pinky loaded a box of paper into her parents’ car. Gloria had emailed Pinky a PDF, and she’d printed out fifty flyers.
“Okay, so what’s the plan again?” Samir asked her. “We just walk up to people and hand them these flyers?”
“Pretty much,” Pinky said. “Give them the flyer, give them the little Gloria-approved spiel, and then hurry back home for personal-pizza night.”
“You don’t have to say it with that sarcastic curling-sneer thing you have going on,” Samir said, bumping her gently with his shoulder. “It’ll be fun.”
Pinky gave him a withering glare. “My dad puts pineapple on his pizza.”
Samir blinked.
“Oh my goddess.” Pinky turned to him and put her hands on her hips. “You like pineapples on your pizza, don’t you?”
Samir gave her a what? look. “It balances out the jalapeños!”
Pinky shook her head and laughed. “I don’t think we could be more opposite if we were custom-designed to be.”
Samir snorted. “Like maybe Kali made you the north-pole magnet to my south-pole magnet?” He appeared to think. “You know what? That actually makes sense.”
Pinky frowned, confused. “What?”
Samir grinned and wrapped his arms around her waist, bringing his mouth down to hers. “I just feel so… attracted… to you. Magnets would explain it.”
She laughed again, and the true, genuine joy there lifted his heart. “Samir Jha.” Pinky looked into his eyes. “You make me happy.” She planted the softest, sweetest kiss on his lips. Samir closed his eyes, reveling in it. Pulling back, Pinky added, “But you’ll also make us late. So let’s get going.” Winking, she let him go, got into the driver’s seat, and buckled in.
Smiling, Samir got in too. This summer was turning out to be about a 1,000 percent better than he’d expected. He could just imagine the look on Ash’s face when he and Pinky sauntered back to Atherton, holding hands. His first ever girlfriend, and it turned out to be Pinky Kumar. Feisty, swirling-tornado Pinky Kumar. Still smiling, he shook his head a little. Life was weird.
Pinky glanced at the box of flyers wedged on the floor of the car next to Samir’s feet. “I really hope these work. Gloria put so much effort into them.”
Samir looked down at the flyers and pretended to study them, even though he’d seen them already. “They will. They’re bright and concise and powerful.”
There was an Eastern tiger swallowtail butterfly in the center, its black and yellow wings taking up most of the width of the page. The top of the page said, STOP! in bold red letters at a diagonal. And on the bottom, OUR BUTTERFLIES, OUR HABITAT, OUR TOWN. SAY NO TO DEVELOPMENT! TOWN HALL MEETING ON SATURDAY, AUGUST 1st, AT 2 P.M.!
“I wish the meeting were this Saturday instead of next. I feel like speed is of the essence,” Pinky said, chewing on her lower lip. “But Gloria said with this Saturday being the Ellingsworth Lantern Festival and everything…”
“No, next Saturday’s definitely better.” Samir reached over to smooth a strand of hair off her face. “Besides, aren’t we doing that whole campout, grill-out thing with your family to celebrate the Lantern Festival anyway?”
“Don’t remind me,” Pinky said, but she was smiling. She put the car in drive and backed out of the driveway. “We do that every year. It’s pretty fun, actually. A whole bunch of people from the town do it too.”
“So we’re going to be camping in a tent on the bank of the lake?” Samir couldn’t help it; his mind immediately flashed a picture of him and Pinky wedged into their sleeping bags, pressed up against each other in a warm, balmy tent under a starlit sky.
She quirked her lips and glanced at him like she could hear his thoughts. “My parents will be sharing the tent with us.”
Samir cleared his throat and ran a hand along the back of his neck. Her words were like a bucket of cool water. The Shark, sharing a tent with him. Probably judging the quality of his snores. “Oh, uh, yeah. I knew that.”
Pinky snorted. “It’s pretty cool. We release biodegradable floating lanterns and stuff. We’ll have to leave DQ at home, of course. They call it the Ellingsworth Lantern Festival, but it’s really just an excuse for everyone to shoot off whatever fireworks they have left over from the Fourth of July. DQ really won’t like that.” She paused. “I hope she’s okay at home right now.”