Page 48 of Spring Awakening

“You’re never rude.”

“Start spreading that around at your work so I can check off all the autographs on my list.”

There are hugs and scoffs and promises of seeing each other again. (Saturday, as Miriam reminds her again, and as her dad reminds Zach.) When Zach goes to close the door before driving his mum home, he looks over at Mali.

“Thank you.”

“Text me when you leave,” Mali says. “I’ll put the kettle on.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The cold tea sitson the kitchen counter. Zach stares at it and sighs. He doesn’t want to pour it away. Mali made it for him when he said he was going to be home soon, then he didn’t turn up until the middle of the night. He feels guilty about it, and even guiltier about the texts Mali sent him when he was trying to deal with a drunk Devon, who was shouting at their mum. (In the end, he made him stay at a friend’s house.) Mali was worried he wasn’t home and going into the street to see if she could see his car even though it was like midnight. God. He texted her back as soon as he saw, but it had been hours. What’s worse is that she replied to him moments later, like she was waiting to see what was going on before sleeping.

Buffy butts against his forearm, purring like he knows Zach is going to think he’s cute and feed him before Mali wakes up.

“I know you’re going to pretend you haven’t been fed later, you little fatty,” Zach says, as he fills Buffy’s dish. Buffy meows at him as if he can understand a word he’s saying, and then Zach feels bad. “Sorry, Buff. You’re just big-boned.”

The ingredients for his smoothie are on the side, and he’s pushed it about as far as he can before he’s playing fast and loose with being late. He wishes he knew if Mali was awake or not. Nothing about her seems affected by the change in season, other than not wanting to be up in the morning midweek. Zach has to trust her, though. So, he shoves everything in the blender, leaving his protein and supplements out. He’s making it with everything red today because Mali likes strawberries.

While the blender whirs, he wonders if he should tell her one is here for her when she does get up. If he texted her right now, would she come down and see him? It’s worth the risk of overthinking it all day to see her in her fluffy robe and with her morning face. He takes a leaf out of her double-texting rulebook.

Zach: smoothie’s ready

Zach: come see me I know you’re awake

Zach: Mallllllllllli

Then, because he’s a masochist, he sends another.

Zach: xxxx

It turns out it was worth it. Seconds later, he hears her floorboards squeak. Last night, she didn’t tell him what was on her renovations list—she was kindly entertaining his mum—but he’d like to know. He wonders if he’d fix any of the floorboards if she asked. He likes to know where she is when he’s too scared to ask her.

“I can’t believe you triple-texted me!” Mali says, her voice way too awake for her to have been in bed moments ago. “You sent kisses! Oh my God, are you even Zach? Should I call the police?”

Zach laughs, wondering how she has the energy to be this happy at seven thirty a.m. Then, she strolls into the kitchen, and she’s ready for work. Her face isn’t bare, and he’ll tamper down his pout about it. (She’s still flawless with makeup on, and he likes to trace the small pointy thing she does at the corner of her eye, but seeing her freckles and the way her eyes somehow get wider—God, what he’d do to see that for the rest of his life.)

She’s not wearing her wig, though. Maybe she’s out of her wig era, as she calls it, and she’s going to work with her short hair. It wouldn’t be an issue, of course—she looks amazing either way. There’s just a primal part of him that might hit anyone who dares to look at her. Mali doesn’t wear her hair short for him, obviously, but he does revel in the fact he’s one of a few that get to see her like that.

“Don’t call the police. I’d be so bad in jail.”

“What do you mean? You love to be by yourself,” she says, taking her smoothie from the side with thanks. He does like to be by himself… or he did. Then he realised what life was like with someone by his side—someone who exists in the same room; not always talking, just there—and he realised he’s never as lonely as he is when Mali is asleep. He wonders if he likes her romantically, or if he’s just never had a friend before. He googled what the main difference between friendship and romance was. It appears the main difference is liking her face. Thinking about kissing her, holding her hand, having her close. He looks at the few feet between them and wonders how to make it smaller without being obvious.

“I’d miss you.” She smiles and takes a step closer to him, but then takes a step back. “No colourful hair today?”

She looks nervous. “Oh, yeah. I just haven’t done it yet.”

Zach panics. He tries not to comment on her appearance because the last time he did was a monumental fuck-up. He toldher he thought she was pretty in the car, but she didn’t seem to like it at all. “I like it.”

“Like what?”

“Your hair. Like this. I think it’s my favourite. Though the pink is pretty too.”

Mali smiles. “I can’t believe you hate my purple hair so much.”

“I don’t!”

“Mm-hmm.”

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