Dolly turned to Pinky, her eyes wide. So Dolly could see him too. This really was happening. All Pinky could do was shake her head slowly. “I have to go.”
She began to brush past him, and he kept pace with her. “I won’t take up more than five minutes of your time,” he said quietly. “I just have something I need to read to you.” Pinky looked up at him, confused, then stilled at the expression in his brown eyes. “Please.”
She glanced at Dolly, who shrugged, like, I’ll do whatever you want. Pinky took a breath. “Okay,” she said, folding her arms over her chest. “But just five minutes.” She nodded slightly at Dolly, who gave Samir a hard look and then melted away.
She and Samir stared at each other for a long moment, Pinky trying very hard not to cry. She’d missed him, she realized. She’d missed him even though they’d barely been separated at all. Well, get used to it, a voice inside her head said.
The leaves above them rustled in the wind, a hushed song. “I’d like to read you a poem I wrote,” Samir said, pulling out a piece of paper from his pocket. His eyes met hers again and held them. “It’s called ‘10 Things I Love about Pinky.’ ”
Pinky felt frozen in place, her feet rooted to the ground.
“Number one, she’s impulsive,” Samir said, still looking at her. “She completely lets her heart dictate what her brain should do.”
She shook her head. What was he—what was this? For a moment, she felt her heart harden in her chest. Was he making fun of her? Was this some kind of weird joke, a way to hurt her? But when she searched his face for any hint of meanness, of payback, Pinky found none.
Was this real?
“Number two,” Samir continued, still not looking down at the paper he held in his hand. He’d memorized all of these, Pinky realized. “She’s impetuous, like an ocean in a storm. Number three, she’s so passionate about everything.” A few protesters walked past, turning to look curiously at them, but still, all Pinky could look at, all she could hear, all she could see, was Samir in front of her, reading his poem. “Number four, her short fuse, like she’s half human, half firecracker.” He smiled gently at her, and she found herself returning his smile. “Number five, she doesn’t want anyone to be nice to her.” He paused. “Because she’s so independent. She’s so very true to herself.” Blinking, he continued. “Number six, she’s hardheaded and bullish…”
Pinky found herself stiffening. This was one of the ones that had hurt so much yesterday.
“… in the best possible way. In a way that tells you she won’t let the problem go because she cares so much about who the problem’s affecting.” Samir looked at her again, and it was as if he could see only her and no one else. “I think the world could use some of her bullishness, to be honest. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a wreck.”
Pinky felt something in her heart give, just a little. He sounded like he meant it, 100 percent.
“Number seven, she doesn’t know how to relax. Everything’s a fight. It’s because she’s so fervent. But maybe she just needs someone supportive to be there for her, to have her back, to show her that she’s accepted.”
A tear rolled out on Pinky’s cheek, and she swiped it away.
“Number eight, she’s completely nonconforming. She keeps things fresh. She has a mind of her own. Number nine, her multicolored hair, which needs no explanation.” Pinky huffed a laugh at that. “And the tenth reason I love Pinky, but certainly not the last reason I love Pinky… her habit of snorting derisively. It’s amazing. It’s a sound I’d miss if it were gone.” He put the slip of paper back in his pocket and gazed steadily at her, his brown eyes focused and intent.
Pinky gazed back, her heart thumping.
Quietly, Samir said, “I’m so sorry. I never should’ve made the list. But now that it’s out there, I want you to know, I would never change these things about you. Not for anything.”
Pinky shook her head and another tear rolled down her cheek. “I’m sorry too. I should never have said those awful, mean things about you. I was trying to hurt you because I was so mad—” She gave a wrenching sob, and Samir pulled her to him, cradling the back of her head.
“Shh. It’s okay. I know you were angry. But you know what?” He pulled back and she looked at him. “You were right,” he said, almost wonderingly. “You were right about why I’ve been so rigid, so controlled, for so long. It was fear. That’s all it was. Fear. And another thing? I don’t care if we make absolutely no sense on paper. I’m beginning to realize the best things in life rarely do.”
Pinky felt her heart begin to race. “So… so what does that mean?”
He gave her a gentle smile. “That means that I told my mom I want to be mainstream schooled this year, and she agreed. And she also agreed to the both of us getting some counseling.”
Pinky clapped her hands to her mouth. “I’m so happy for you,” she said, infusing her words with the love she felt. “Samir, you’re easily the bravest person I know.”
He smiled at her, his eyes twinkling. “Really?” he asked, his voice just a breath.
“Really,” she whispered back.
He took a deep, steadying breath and looked her right in the eye. “So here’s something I want to know, then. I’m hoping to introduce my friends back in Atherton to my new girlfriend, Pinky Kumar. If she’ll still have me.”
Pinky felt a smile spreading on her face, slow and warm and steady. Two swallowtail butterflies circled them, as if listening in. “She’ll have you,” Pinky said, bringing her mouth to his. They kissed like they’d never stopped kissing, like the fight had never happened. With each touching and parting of their lips, Pinky showed Samir how sorry she was for all the things she’d said that she hadn’t meant, how truly, deeply glad she was that they were working things out, how joyful he made her, how full her world was when he was in it. When they pulled apart, Pinky added breathlessly, “I’m so happy for you.”
Samir cupped her cheek in one hand. “I’m happy for me too. And I’m happy for you.” He looked around at the crowd. “I mean, just look at this.”
They took in the happy, energetic crowd until someone yelled, “The crew’s coming! Everyone lock arms!”
And then she and Samir were racing forward, determined to stop the inevitable.
Samir
They made a human chain of protesters, all of them arm in arm, so the guy in the excavator couldn’t get past them. Dolly met Samir’s eye and grinned, and he grinned back, knowing he’d been forgiven.
“Save our habitat!” they chanted, their voices rising in a cloud. The guy in the excavator looked confused for a moment and then alarmed. Samir saw him pull a cell phone from his pocket and dial.
Samir looked over at Pinky. Her rainbow-hued ponytail was blowing in the breeze; her eyes were scintillating and fiery. She was always a part of something bigger than herself, a selfless force. He wondered how he could ever have seen anything different when he looked at her.
A tidal wave of gratitude crashed over him when he thought of how she’d agreed to be his again, wholeheartedly. Samir knew how his life needed to change, and now he could do it with Pinky at his side. Not leading him, not making his decisions for him, but simply there to support him. And he would support her, in every way he knew how.