She cleared her throat and spoke as calmly as she could, trying to take a page from Samir’s book. “I’m merely lending my hand to protect those less fortunate than I am.”
“Are you talking about the butterflies? Or the residents?” Chrissy Paige asked, looking dubious. She took a martini from a passing waiter and ate the olive. Pinky wanted to take the toothpick and prick her on the nose.
“Both!” Pinky said, beginning to lose her patience. “Does it really matter?”
“Oh, yes it does!” her mother said, turning to her, eyes flashing. “Are you seriously going to sit there and ask me if it matters?”
“You know what matters?” Pinky asked, in a last-ditch attempt to have something good come from all this. “Our habitat. Our butterfly habitat, the one we helped build. Don’t you remember?” She paused, and then said in a rush, “You should come to the protest with me tomorrow, Mom. We can do it together. We can save that place together.”
But her mom just looked at her like Pinky had asked her to go to a rave with her. “I most certainly will not, and neither will you!”
“Let’s all take a deep breath.” Pinky’s dad looked extremely nervous. He flashed a help me look at Samir.
“Yes, let’s,” Samir said, sitting up straighter. “Perhaps we should table this discussion for now.”
“That might be a good idea,” her mom said in a dignified tone.
Dignified. She was being dignified and reasonable and calm and all of those things that made Pinky want to scream. How could she keep her emotions out of all of this? Was she a total robot?
“It makes me so mad that what you care about is that I’m going to cause a disruption to some millionaire developer!” Pinky erupted. “Instead of being mad about the developer razing all our memories!”
Her mother frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“The butterfly habitat!” Pinky shouted. A few people at nearby tables turned to look in her direction, but she didn’t care. “Don’t you even remember? Don’t you even care that we had some of our happiest times there? Were you just bullshitting me at the breakfast table when you said you wanted to go with me this summer?”
Her mother stared at her for a long time. “What?”
“You know what?” Pinky said, standing and scraping her chair back. She was vaguely aware that hot tears were spilling down her cheeks. “Whatever. I’m done with this. I’m going home.”
“Wait!” her mother called to her retreating back. “Let’s talk about this!”
Pinky laughed and turned around. “Don’t pretend like you give a crap,” she told her mom. “Just give it up already. We all know the truth anyway.” And then she pushed her way past all the swankily dressed people and raced outside into the night.
* * *
“So this is your new thing now, huh?” Samir called.
Sniffling, Pinky turned around to see him chasing her to the parking lot. “What?”
“Running out of country-club soirees,” he explained as he took off his tux jacket. “And I guess mine is chasing you out. Are we going to climb onto the roof again or what?”
“No,” Pinky said, turning back around. “I’m going home.”
“Pinky.” He caught up with her and took her upper arm. She turned to look at him. “Hey.” Samir’s face softened when he saw the mascara running down her face. Gently wiping her tears, he said, “It’ll be okay.”
“No, it won’t.” Pinky’s voice wobbled as fresh tears coursed down her cheeks. “No matter what I do, Samir, she’s always going to find a reason to criticize me. When it’s me against the world, she’s always going to side with the world.”
He didn’t say anything; just held her while she cried, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her bare back where the dress didn’t cover her. “Let me take you home,” he said finally. “Your parents gave me the key to their car.”
“Okay.” Her voice come out all muffled since her face was pressed into his chest. “How are they going to get home, though?”
“They said they’d find a ride with someone. Come on.” Samir took her hand and they began to walk together through the empty parking lot, toward the rental car.
Samir
“Here you go,” Samir said, handing her a mug of steaming peppermint tea. “I sweetened it with just a touch of honey.”
Pinky smiled as she rested her back against his headboard, her knees drawn up. “Thanks.”
They were still dressed in their party attire, though Samir had taken off his bow tie, and they’d both kicked