10 Things I Hate About Pinky - Sandhya Menon Page 0,57

board with him—you have a boyfriend!”

Dolly frowned, and Pinky stared back at her, frozen. Then Dolly laughed. “What, are you jealous?”

Pinky forced herself to trill a totally fake laugh, even though she realized that, yes, shockingly enough, that’s exactly what she’d felt, hearing Dolly sing Samir’s praises: a pinprick of jealousy. Ridiculous.

Oblivious to Pinky’s turmoil, Dolly lifted her head up and propped it on her hand. “Anyway, I wouldn’t really call Cash my ‘boyfriend.’ He’s… I don’t know what he is, but ‘boyfriend’ is definitely not the right word.”

Pinky nodded. “I get that. Really. I mean, take—” Whoops. She’d been about to say, I mean, take Samir, for instance. He’s definitely not my boyfriend.

“Take what?” Dolly asked.

“Nothing.” Pinky shook her head.

“Pinky.” Dolly cocked her head. “Come on. What?”

Pinky looked into her cousin’s big, trusting eyes. Dolly might have evolved her secret-keeping skills. She was keeping a few of her own now. Besides, she’d confided in Pinky. It was only fair that Pinky confide in her, too. Otherwise it was just like she was lying to one more person, someone who really didn’t deserve it. “Okay, but this is big, okay? Huge. You have to promise not to let this slip to any of the adults.”

Dolly’s eyes went wide. “Wow, okay. What is it?”

“You remember how you asked me if Samir and I… what was up with us, basically?”

Dolly frowned. “Yeah?”

“Well, your spidey senses were right. He and I…” She swallowed and then spoke quickly. “We’re not really dating.”

Dolly’s face went from avid curiosity to abject confusion in .2 seconds. “What?” she yelled.

Pinky clapped a hand to her cousin’s mouth. “Shh!”

Dolly raised her hands. “Sorry,” she mumbled. Pinky let her hand drop and sat back again. “What?” Dolly said again, but much quieter this time. Her hazel eyes were dancing with glee. “Oh. My. God. This is, like, the most epic con you’ve ever pulled and you’ve pulled some big ones.”

Pinky snorted. “Right?”

“So what’s the point?” Dolly asked, leaning forward. “Why are you guys doing it?”

“I just got really freaking tired of my mom thinking I’m incapable of making any decisions she’d approve of,” Pinky said, throwing her hands up in the air. “And the lie just came out that night the barn burned down. Remember, when she was really drilling me? After I’d told her I had this great, amazing boyfriend, I couldn’t just rescind it and face her contempt again. I had to, you know, follow through.” She pushed her hand through the air.

Dolly nodded slowly, digesting everything apparently. “And Samir? What’s in it for him? He doesn’t seem like the kind of dude who’d go along with something like this.”

“Well, not normally, but his law-firm summer internship fell through.”

Understanding dawned on Dolly’s face. “You promised him an internship with your parents?”

“With my mom. If he can impress her, which he’s already doing. It shouldn’t be a problem.”

Dolly sat back and laughed. “Wow. This is… I feel like I’m in a Heath Ledger rom-com or something.”

Pinky shook her head. “If it’s a movie, it’s the most effed-up movie on the planet.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, then burst out laughing simultaneously.

“Pinky,” Dolly said, when she could speak again. “You really are something else.”

CHAPTER 10 Samir

Friday evening, Samir stood in front of the floor-length mirror in his room, getting ready for the fancy dinner/trivia night at the country club, due to start in an hour. The men were required to wear suits, and Samir was glad he still had his from his doomed internship. He adjusted his freshly ironed pale-purple tie and studied himself critically in the mirror. Not bad, but he wished he had a little pomade; he could style his hair so that a bit fell over his forehead. That tennis instructor he’d kissed had told him she liked that. Not that there were any girls he was hoping to impress here or anything.

His attention was snared by movement outside his window, in the side yard. Pinky was down there in a startlingly sexy gold spaghetti-strap dress, gold chains crisscrossing down the back, giving him peekaboo hints of her glowing brown skin inside. Her hair was proud and colorful as ever, like a multihued flag in the gentle breeze. Samir smiled to himself. She was going to be a total sore thumb sticking out at this function. And naturally, the rest of her family would look like they’d all been born in a country club.

Although he needed to finish getting dressed, Samir couldn’t help but