‘Right,’ I said, still trying to figure out the point of the story. I never was that good with metaphors in English class, but this one seemed particularly obscure. ‘And the reason you told me this story is because …’
‘Because, Soph, life is unpredictable. One minute you’re sipping champagne on a boat deck and laughing about how rich you are and the next minute you’re getting hit in the face by a dolphin. Shit happens, OK? No matter where you are or what you’re doing, you are still susceptible to the uncertainty of life. You can’t just roll yourself up in bubble wrap and close off the rest of the world. My point is that you need to get off your ass and come back outside before we lose the tail end of this summer and get sucked into the oblivion that is senior year.’
‘Well,’ I said, feeling very much like I had just had my ass handed to me. ‘I can’t really argue with that.’
‘No you cannot. The Dolphin Philosophy always prevails.’ She raised her palm in the air. ‘Now let’s get you back to normal, OK? Up top.’
I high-fived her and she grabbed my wrist. ‘Hey, where did this bandage come from? Did you cut yourself?’
Oh, yeah. That. ‘Accidentally …’ I hedged. ‘I sort of fell asleep with Luca’s switchblade in my hand.’
‘As you do,’ she deadpanned, moving her suspicious gaze from my hand to my face. ‘You really need to get rid of that.’
‘I will,’ I lied. The thought of relinquishing it brought an uncomfortable twinge to the base of my spine. It was in my pocket even then, resting heavy and sure against my thigh. I liked it. I needed it.
‘The sooner we get you out of this house the better. Tomorrow night, OK? How does bowling sound?’
‘Like fresh hell.’ I withdrew my hand and pulled the sleeve of my shirt over it. ‘I’d rather take a dolphin to the face.’
‘You should be so lucky,’ she retorted. ‘The movies, then?’
‘Only if we can watch that one with the robot who falls in love with the human who made him.’
‘Sophie,’ she whined. ‘You know I can’t relate to non-human love stories. That’s why The Princess and the Frog was so problematic for me. They spend way too much time as frogs.’
‘Mil, if I’m going to re-enter society, I’ll be damned if it’s not to the backdrop of a futuristic romance that transcends both scientific engineering and biology to conquer impossible odds for true love.’
‘Fine,’ she conceded, with an eye-roll. ‘I’ll suffer this one for you.’
‘Oh, cheer up. It’ll be fun.’ I patted her on the arm, trying to force some enthusiasm. ‘Smize.’
CHAPTER SIX
THE GIRL WITH PURPLE HAIR
Millie drove us to the movie theatre in her new car, a second-hand Toyota Matrix she had been drooling over and saving for all summer. Despite the fact we almost crashed at several intersections, and she had absolutely no respect for the speed limit, we made it in one piece. I got out, feeling marginally strengthened by the fact that fate must be back on my side.
Friday night wasn’t exactly the best time to go to the movies. The whole place was wedged with people and every time someone brushed against me, I jumped a little. I did my best to loosen up, but it was hard to let go completely without scoping out our surroundings every couple of minutes.
Millie and I trickled into the line at the concession stand.
‘Are you getting popcorn?’ she asked.
I was looking over my shoulder. I felt shivery, like something was amiss. I tried to relax. I was too aware of my heartbeat, and my palms were slicking with sweat. Focus. Calm down.
Millie prodded me. ‘Helloooo.’
‘What?’ I stroked the switchblade in my pocket. I hadn’t wanted to bring it with me, but the idea of going to the movie theatre had just felt so huge at the time. I needed it to keep my anxiety under control.
‘Popcorn,’ said Millie, snapping her fingers in front of my face. ‘Full disclosure: there will be rivers of butter on my popcorn. Lakes, in fact. I’m getting popcorn with my butter, OK? Is that what you want to hear? I’ll be drowning in a vat of my own buttery shame. And don’t you dare look at me with those judgy eyes, Sophie Gracewell, don’t you dare judge me.’
‘Moi?’ I protested, clenching and unclenching my fist around the switchblade and offering her a blithe smile. ‘I would never. I actually think that decision is very inspired. I may even copy you.’
Millie twirled her hands. ‘And that is why I’m the trailblazer.’
I bristled as the woman behind me brushed against my back. I stood a little straighter, and flicked my gaze over my shoulder. Not a threat. ‘And what am I?’ I asked Millie, keeping up with the flow of conversation while my brain whirred.
‘You’re the sarcastic one.’
‘So you get “trailblazer” and I get “sarcastic”?’
‘OK, then. You’re the one with the little face dents.’
‘I prefer the term “dimples”. And that’s still terrible.’
‘Fine.’ She studied me in quiet contemplation. ‘You’re …’
‘The moron who walks herself into danger?’