Page 57 of Spring Awakening

Mali sighs. “Why have you got such good arms?”

Frankie laughs, her hand coming across her mouth. “What—”

“Don’t talk to me. You look too good.”

Frankie throws her head back, then charges at her.

“Frank!” Mali says with a screech. Frankie doesn’t throw her to the floor, thankfully, but she does lift her, and Mali wraps her legs around her waist and lets her arms fly into the air.

“This is fun!”

“I’m giving the guys some motivation.”

“What, showing them you can throw someone around?”

“Yes, and your arse in these shorts.”

Mali snorts, and Frankie deposits her on the floor.

“Okay, just how flexible do I need to be?” Frankie asks.

“Can you bend over and touch your toes?”

“Alright, Ludacris.” But she does, in fact, bend over and touch her toes.

Mali snaps a photo. “Hot.”

Mali wants to know if Frankie wants a sponsorship, but she hasn’t mentioned it yet. There’s a lot of politics and heartache that come from being a queer Black woman in sports, and Mali needs to make sure they can be at least semi-successful before reaching out.

Frankie groans as she gets back up, her hand on her lower back. “I haven’t done any stretching in way too long. I used to get my leg above my head, I promise.”

“How are you still single?”

Frankie throws a rugby ball at her, and despite Frankie not having played in months, Mali still has to dodge so it doesn’t hit her in the stomach.

“Show me your best move,” Frankie says.

“Technically best, or like, look at this fancy split I can do?”

“I’m a lesbian.”

Mali rolls her eyes. “I know. You only mention it every three seconds.”

Mali also knows what Frankie wants, and as she’s still waiting for the guys to get to the pitch, she places her hands on the ground. The grass is wet, but it won’t make her fall. She tenses her stomach, slowly moving into a handstand. Frankie whoops, and Mali tries not to laugh as she spreads her legs into a split. It’s the first move she learnt at yoga, but she did do gymnastics as a child. Her top begins to drop down her stomach, and she makes a mental note to tuck it in as she spins her legs, until her toes touch the ground and she’s upright again.

“Holy fuck, Mal. How areyoustill single?” Frankie asks, and Mali flips her off. If Frankie liked Zach more, Mali probably would have told her about the obscenely large crush Mali has on him. Alas, Frankie groans whenever he enters the room, and Mali thinks she’ll get too defensive over him when she doesn’t actually know the reason behind their spat.

Also, Mali feels bad about her crush now. Zach said she was his best friend, and he was clearly nervous, and now she can’t lean across the counter and kiss him because they’re friends. Obviously, now he’s told her they’re friends (and she explained why she was surprised because he avoided rooms with her in them up until last week), he’s been more obvious in his care forher. She’s not sure how she missed it before. He wasn’t shouting it in her face, but it was there. In the smoothies he makes her; the way her blankets are always folded, even if she fell asleep on the couch; the way her vase has been full ever since she started work and she hasn’t bought a bunch of flowers since day one.

So, she’ll be the best friend he ever had, and she’ll be happy about it.

Mali rolls her neck, looking out onto the rugby pitch. Most of the players are out now, but she waits—oh, Zach is looking right at her. She didn’t realise he was here yet. She waves, but he blinks and turns away. Sometimes, he’s still a weirdo, but she likes him all the same.

She grabs the whistle Frankie keeps trying to take back from her. “Ready?!” she calls.

She blows the whistle, and demonstrates the first pose.

It’s four poses later that she realises this was a terrible idea.

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