“Ditched me, yes.” It never got more fun to admit that.
Once I’d told Terry about the Shunning, it seemed weird to keep it from Arden and Lydia, which was how Anjuli had ended up on our list as a Becky Sharp, the callous social climber fromVanity Fair. It wasn’t a perfect fit; I may have exaggerated Anjuli’s culpability for dramatic effect. I was also anxious to gloss over the part where she found me boring and replaceable.
Lydia looked Pittaya up and down. She was small and fair, yet deeply menacing, like an Easter egg with fangs. “You have some nerve showing your face around here.”
I wanted to tell her she was barking up the wrong tree. Pittaya wasn’t going to explain himself. He was a pillar of silence, staring at his hands as though they were chess pieces and he needed to contemplate the next move—
“I apologize.”
My eyes widened. I’d forgotten how deep his voice was.
“I’m not good with conflict,” he continued. “Also, you had the position of strength.”
“What are you talking about?” My memory of that day mostly involved cowering.
“You like people, and they like you.” He nodded at Lydia. “But Anjuli—”
“Is a cold-hearted snake,” Lydia supplied. She gave Pittaya another once-over. “That doesn’t let you off the hook. You should’ve had Mary’s back.”
I bit my lip to keep from grinning like a fool. It was thrilling to have Lydia on my side. It also made me want to tear up a little.
Pittaya nodded solemnly. “I should have left with you. Even if it made things worse with Anjuli.”
“What do you mean?” Lydia sounded dubious.
He swallowed, obviously uncomfortable. I’d never seen Pittaya squirm before.
“Because Anjuli has a crush on you,” I said as realization struck. “If you’d stuck up for me she would have really gone berserk.”
He lowered his head in acknowledgment. “Not that I think of you that way.”
“Likewise,” I assured him, my mind already flying in another direction. Was this the real cause of the falling out with Anjuli: Not a desperate urge to make pretentious movies, but the desire to eliminate a supposed rival? It was almost flattering to think she considered me a threat in that way, until I remembered the unmistakable flavor of her annoyance. The sighing and seething, like every word out of my mouth grated on her nerves. My charms obviously weren’tthatpotent.
“I stopped speaking to her,” Pittaya informed us. “After.”
My first thought was,Does she know you’re giving her the silent treatment?
Lydia looked grudgingly impressed. She pulled five dollars from her wallet and held it out to me. “Mary, would you do me a solid and get me a candy bar? Hook yourself up too.”
I hesitated. “For real this time?”
“Yeah.” Her eyes were locked on Pittaya. “I’m going to have a little talk with your friend.”
After a brief consultation with my conscience, I decided Pittaya could hold his own.
We both could.
Dear Diary,
I love the moment in a story when the love interest first appears on the scene. The heroine doesn’t always like him right away, but there’s still a zing that makes you sit up and think,Aha! This guy is going to be important.
If the narrator spends a lot of time talking about his clothes, or describing his facial features in excruciating detail, that’s usually a sign you’re looking at the hero.
M.P.M.
Chapter 14
Standing at the back of the serpentine linefor the snack bar, I rose onto my toes in an effort to see the menu.
