10 Things I Hate About Pinky - Sandhya Menon Page 0,76

doing a good deed for the planet!” she said brightly. “Think about that. We can’t try to save the habitat and then drive everywhere. It’s unconscionable.”

“We drove to the butterfly habitat,” Samir countered, his eyebrow raised.

“There was no bus route there,” Pinky said thoughtfully. “Although… maybe next time we should ride our bikes. I’ll have to Google to see at what temperature you’re at risk for heatstroke.”

Dolly groaned. “How much longer?”

Pinky checked her cell. “Twenty more minutes.”

This time it was Samir who groaned.

* * *

“We’re here to see Mayor Thomas,” Pinky explained to the receptionist at city hall.

She was a black woman with the coolest weave, and she looked them all over skeptically. Pinky could imagine why—they were dripping sweat, hair plastered to their skulls and necks, and they probably smelled like a gym locker room.

“We have an appointment,” Pinky clarified when the pause went on too long.

“I see. Name?”

“Kumar. Pinky Kumar.”

The receptionist checked her computer and then nodded. “All right, please have a seat and the mayor will be with you shortly.” Her tone was a little regretful, Pinky thought.

Only a minute later, Mayor Michael Thomas, whom Pinky recognized from the city hall website, came out to greet them. He was an older white man, dressed in a charcoal-gray suit with a blue-and-gray striped tie and slightly scuffed shoes. “Hi,” he said, smiling at the three of them. “Which one of you is Pinky Kumar?”

Pinky stood and extended a hand. “That would be me. But these are my colleagues, Dolly and Samir. Can they come into our meeting as well?”

Mayor Thomas beamed at them all. “Of course, of course.”

They followed him to his office, which was a mess of papers and books and bookcases. “Have a seat,” he said, pulling a stool from a corner of the room so there were three seats facing his.

He went around the desk and sat, steepling his fingers. “So. Tell me what brings you in today. It’s not often I get to meet with the bright young minds of the next generation.”

A smooth-talking politician—big surprise. It was like they had a handbook or something. Pinky nodded seriously. “Well, we’re on a mission, Mayor. A mission to stop the immoral, appalling destruction of a prized relic of our city.”

“Say again?” the mayor said. “What relic?”

“The butterfly habitat.” Pinky reached into her tote bag and pulled out a photo album she’d curated over the past few days. Flipping the cover open, she said, “This is me, at three years old, helping to plant it. That was about fifteen years ago, Mayor.” She flipped another page. “What you’re looking at is a team of people from this very city that you love and have sworn to serve, coming together to make this magical place a reality.” She flipped yet another page. “For a decade and a half, people from this city have been taking their families there to make happy memories. There have been engagements, weddings, birthday parties… even an unexpected birth. The point is, this place is a monument to the lives people in your city are living. This place is a memento of hope, of simpler times, of the importance of taking time to relax, to recharge, to—”

“This is all very touching,” the mayor said, tapping the corner of one of the photographs, of a guy on his knee, proposing to a girl. Pinky had printed it off the Internet. She’d found a dozen such stories on social media, all tagged #ellingsworthbutterflyhabitat. “And you’re not the first people to come in here about the habitat.” Pinky had expected that; Gloria had said she’d been sending waves of people in. The mayor continued. “But I’m going to have to tell you exactly what I’ve told all the others—I’m sorry. That deal is done.”

Pinky stared at him. “Then you have to undo it,” she said in the calmest way she could manage, though she could hear the anger spitting and sparking at the edge of her words.

She could feel Samir looking at her in her peripheral vision. “There has to be a loophole,” he said, much more calmly. “Something you can do to at least buy us time to garner resident support for our petition.”

“Sorry.” The mayor folded his hands together. “I really admire your passion and gumption, kids. I do. But the truth is, this deal’s going to bring the city a lot of money, and we could use it. We’re not Martha’s Vineyard or Nantucket, but maybe this could help us be. These could