“What are you doing?” Dana asked.
“Is it not okay?”
“I thought we agreed that the kiss was a mistake, and we’re just–”
“Wedidn’t agree on anything.Yousaid that. I didn’t get a chance to say anything because you started talking about beignets.”
“We’re in public,” she noted.
“And we look like two good friends now. It’s fine,” Samara told her.
“We’re not two good friends,” Dana said.
The light changed, and they walked across the street in the direction of her car.
“Well, I don’t know what we really are, but right now, on this street, we’re just two good friends enjoying our night together.”
“I don’t usually put my hand on the thighs of my good friends,” Dana argued.
“Yeah, sorry about that,” Samara said and pulled away from her when they hit the curb.
“No, you don’t have to apologize. I liked it,” she replied.
“Okay. Then, why are we talking about it?”
“Because I kissed you last night, and you ran off on me. Then, tonight, you’re putting your hand on my thigh in front of everyone in New Orleans.”
“Everyone in New Orleans? That’s an exaggeration. And if you liked it, why are you acting like it’s a bad thing?”
“Because you’re confusing, Sam–” She stopped when she nearly said Samara’s full name. “Let’s talk about this when we’re not around people. In the car or someplace private. I don’t want to get in trouble again.”
“You’re not in trouble, Dana.Iput my hand onyourthigh,” Samara said.
“Can we talk about something else?” she asked, needing a break from this conversation.
“What doyouwant to talk about? DJ or band?”
“DJ,” she said, walking a little faster through the crowd.
“We agree on that, then. What about colors?”
“Colors of what?”
“Colorsfora wedding.”
“Whose wedding?”
“Yours,” Samara said.
“Oh, my God. I don’t know.” Dana laughed.
“I’m thinking maybe a pale-green for mine. Just pale-green, pastel, maybe, and white. Simple. Understated.”
“Great. Good for you,” Dana said.
“Do you like green?”
“Yes, I like green.”
