“But maybe that just means the shelves themselves are not to be messed with,” Samir countered, walking over to stand beside her. They were about the same height, but he was broader and put out a lot of heat. The only reason Pinky noticed, of course, was that the room was cold. “Maybe the doodads are all up for grabs.”
Pinky snorted a laugh.
Samir looked at her, narrowing his eyes. “What’s so funny?”
“Doodads? Who says that? Besides maybe middle-aged dads.”
He gestured to the trinkets. “What would you call them? Thingamabobs?”
Pinky snorted another, louder laugh. “Thingamabobs!”
Samir was grinning now, as if her laughter was contagious. “Thingamajiggers? Laronmcsquarons? Poofermcbeebers?”
Pinky was laughing so hard, tears were actually leaking out of her eyes. “Now you’re just making crap up.”
Samir was looking at her, still smiling an enormous smile. “You have a nice laugh.”
Abruptly, they both got serious. Samir’s face was frozen, as if he was having trouble believing the words that had just come out of his mouth.
“What did you say?” Pinky asked. It was an unspoken code between them; they were never nice to each other. And she didn’t like compliments anyway. Especially not from chivalrous, shiny Volvo boys who had no place in her life.
Samir looked at her for a long moment, as if he were weighing something in his mind. And then he shrugged, his broad shoulders moving under his sweater. “I said you have a nice laugh.”
“Why?” Pinky said immediately, her face getting warm. With annoyance, obviously. “Why would you say that?”
Samir smiled a little, as if he was amused at something. “Because it’s true?”
Why wasn’t he getting intimidated? Usually Pinky had no problems intimidating boys who overstepped. She turned back to look at the ship in a bottle. “Well, you shouldn’t. I don’t like compliments.”
Samir made a disbelieving sound in his throat. “Who doesn’t like compliments?”
Pinky jerked her head to look at him, her irritation surging for reasons she couldn’t quite pinpoint. “Me. I just told you.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Whoa. Just asking a question.”
“Or you’re trying to tell me what I do and don’t like. Stop mansplaining my feelings to me.”
He looked genuinely confused. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to—”
“Whatever, Sam. I know you’re a control freak, but keep your unsolicited opinions to yourself.”
His eyes flashed. “Don’t call me a control freak.”
Pinky crossed her arms slowly. “Or what?”
Samir scoffed. “What are you, twelve? Why can’t you have a conversation like a normal person?”
The comment shot out of Pinky’s mouth before she could stop it. “Oh, you’re calling me abnormal? That’s hilarious, considering how messed up—” And then she did stop, feeling her cheeks heat. She hadn’t meant to say that.
A muscle in Samir’s jaw ticked; he was getting annoyed with her now. In spite of her shame, Pinky felt relief wash through her. Good. Annoyance she could deal with. Annoyance was safe; it was easy. “How messed up I am? Is that what you were about to say? Really nice, Pinky.”
She stood there, her mouth working, wanting to apologize, but completely out of words, now that words would be super useful. What could she possibly say, though? I’m sorry, you just really throw me for a loop for some reason, and it makes me defensive and abrasive and horrible? Or I’m sorry I said that; I often suffer from put-your-foot-in-your-mouth-itis around cute, nice boys, and I promise I actually wasn’t even talking about the time Ash and I helped you out with the stuff with your mom? All of that just sounded fake, and she knew he wouldn’t buy it.
Samir gave a curt nod, apparently interpreting her silence as indifference. “Right. You know what? Why don’t I do us both a favor?”
Pinky frowned. “What do you—”
“Hey, guys.” Samir turned to the rest of the group. “Do you mind if I bail?”
There was an outpouring of disagreement and outrage.
“You can’t do that!” Dimple said. “We all started this stupid game, and we all have to finish it together!”
“Are you okay, man?” Ashish added.
“I’m fine. I just—I’ll tell them I have a headache or something so they don’t ding the rest of you, okay? I just don’t really feel like doing this.” Samir didn’t meet her eye, but suddenly everyone else was looking at Pinky.
She felt that defensiveness again; why was this just her fault? He couldn’t get along with her, either. “Whatever.” She cupped her hands around her elbows. “I think we should just let him go.”
Ashish and Sweetie looked at each other but didn’t say anything.
“Great.” His face a neutral mask, Samir walked toward the security camera in the corner of the room, ready to ask them to let him out.
“Wait!” Dimple called before he could say a word. When he looked at her questioningly, she added, “Just… give me a minute.” Then, to Pinky’s surprise, Dimple turned to her. “Hey, can I talk to you really quick?”
Pinky blinked. She and Dimple barely knew each other; why would she want to talk? “Me?”
“Yeah, maybe over behind the ship?” Dimple nodded toward the ridiculous pirate ship in the center of the room.
Shrugging, Pinky walked over. “Sure.”
Dimple met her behind the ship by an LED candle. Her face, in the flickering light, was serious. “Hey, um, look, I know we don’t, like, hang out or anything. But I get the feeling you and I actually have a lot in common.”
Pinky hesitated before saying, “Okay…” She thought they did too, but she didn’t understand what that had to do with anything.
Dimple fiddled with her glasses, as if whatever she wanted to say next was causing her some discomfort. “I’m not supergood with the whole feelings deal, and we’re short on time, so I’ll keep this simple: I know why you’re having such a severe reaction to Samir.”
Pinky looked into Dimple’s sharp, dark eyes, which she suspected rarely missed a thing. “What do you mean?” she said in what she hoped was a baffled voice.
Dimple cocked her head. “I’d bet a million dollars I don’t have that there are certain emotions inside you for that boy, and that said emotions are making you feel some kind of way.” When Pinky opened her mouth to protest, Dimple held up a hand. “I’m not trying to argue with you. But look, I’ve been there.” She darted a glance at Rishi, who was huddled in the other corner of the room, talking to Ashish, Sweetie, and Samir. Smiling, Dimple continued. “For strong women like us, having feelings, especially for guys who are totally, completely different from us, can be really disconcerting. But I’m here to tell you that closing yourself off, putting that concrete wall up, and being mean just to distance yourself from him is not the way to go. It’s just going to make you unhappy because that’s not who you are, it’s going to hurt his feelings, and things are going to get really messy.” She pointed toward the security camera that would get Samir out of the room. “Case in point.”