Page 97 of Spring Awakening

Mali has spreadsheets for everything. Train routes from her to him in case his car breaks down. Last year’s Dougals’ schedule so she can figure out when he might be on his off season. Dates she can visit him planned out for the entire year. There’s no doubt in her mind that Zach is the love of her life. She wants to keep him. She doesn’t want him to disappear over a few hundred miles. He means more to her than that. Lately, when she lies wide awake in her room, alone, she wonders if she should tell him that. That she’ll be here, that she loves him, that distance means nothing to her if she gets to be the one to have his children.

Sometimes, she thinks maybe she’s in it on her own. It’s been a few months and one night together, but then she sees the way he looks at her, and she’s so sure he loves her back. There’s nothing terrifying about telling him, because she thinks he won’t say it back. She’s just not sure he knows how to let himself be happy.

Then, because she’s been thinking about him too hard, he knocks on the living room door. It’s open, and just last week, he would have strolled in with a cup of tea and sat on her feet. He would have kissed her forehead and stolen her cat and made her laugh because he liked the sound. Now, he’s like a stranger she knows everything about.

“Hey, bro,” she says, and he laughs.

“Can I sit for a sec?”

“Yeah, of course you can,” she replies. She wants to tell him casual doesn’t mean not talking at all, but every time he looks at her, he looks like he might break down. He’s already battling with relocating his mum or leaving her here; the betrayal of his brother; moving to a town where he knows no one. He doesn’t need to deal with her too. But she’s not sure how they’ll survive him moving like this. There’s no lingering glances from hundreds of miles away. It’ll be one too many missed phone calls, and then he’ll be gone.

“So I went to therapy,” he says, walking into the room.

“You did?” she asks, sitting up slightly.

“I did, and I just want you to know that I’m—well, I’m trying not to make any of this worse for you, and I know it’s too little, too late…” He huffs as he sits opposite her on the couch, his thighs nowhere near her feet. “I guess I’m saying that I know we’re supposed to be being brave,” he says, looking down again.

She sees his phone, and she hopes she loves him for all her life. “Did you write it down?”

He looks up at her. “Yeah.”

She smiles at him, and the thought that he won’t be here next week aches in her chest. There will be no humming in the shower. Buffy will wait on the windowsill for him, and he won’t be there.

Zach takes a deep breath. “I know we’re supposed to be looking at this positively, but I miss you already. Like, I didn’t even know I could miss someone like this. I had no idea that everything could hurt this much, and you’re expected to just keep breathing. Fucking joke,” he says, with a small smile. “I’m not great with words, and it felt cheap to google it, but I miss you. That’s all.”

Mali smiles, but she’s not sure how happy she looks.

“You don’t need to write things down,” she says, “and you don’t need Google. I liked you before I knew you.” Zach looks at her, his eyes flicking over her face before he stands up. He clears his throat, rubbing his hands against his thighs.

“I just wanted you to know that. I’ve got some things to sort out upstairs,” he says, then, “I wanna finish as much of the house as I can before Scotland steals my soul.”

“Scotland is going to be great,” she replies, looking up at him. Then, because she’s being brave, she adds, “and I’ll miss you the entire time.”

Zach takes a deep breath, smiles, then leaves.

Mali doesn’t cry, but not because she doesn’t need to. Just because she doesn’t want him to hear her. She’s been saving it for her showers. She knows he can hear her in her room now, and she sleeps with the door open because it feels like he’s there with her. The other night, he called her name at three a.m., and then scoffed because she answered. He told her how his day was, as if them not being able to see each other means they’re still being casual. As if the way she thinks about him is casual.

But if she sits here, listening to him create her perfect home, knowing he won’t be here, she’ll break down. So, she makes atea. Everything is better with a cup of tea. Making a tea for Zach as well has become muscle memory, and Mali wonders if she’ll crack in half when she makes him one next week and he never drinks it.

Mali should leave the house. Fresh air always makes her feel somewhat better. It’s almost sunset, and she could sit at the riverside and contemplate jumping in. It’s a slow-flowing river, so she wouldn’t die or anything, but it might make her feel something other than utter despair. She sighs. It’s a weird feeling, knowing she wants Zach to get everything he can from Scotland and still wanting him to run back. She takes a deep breath, walks up the stairs, and before she knows it, she’s standing outside his room. Mali’s not even sure she was supposed to turn up here.

“You bought a chest of drawers,” she says, leaning against his doorframe. His door has been wide open all week, and she’s glad, because it’s the only time she’s seen him.

He looks up at her from where he’s crouched around a lamp. She’s not sure why he hasn’t put the big light on, but he looks so young, all bent in half. She can imagine him as a kid, playing with his action men under his duvet when he was supposed to have his lights out. She wonders what he’d have turned out like if he’d had the protection he deserved when he was younger. If his father had stayed and he didn’t have to spend his time worrying about his brother. He managed to turn into the best person she knows, and he had so many hurdles.

He smiles at her. “Yeah, and a wardrobe. Theodore gave me homework.”

Mali frowns. “Who’s that?”

“Doctor Teddy, the therapist to end all therapists,” he says, with a light laugh. He went and he listened. She might cry. She bites on her lip instead. “Do you like them?” he asks.

Mali steps in, taking a closer look at the images on the boxes. The chest of drawers is in pieces right now. “I do.”

He was going to stay. Zach hasn’t unpacked properly—his clothes still sit in boxes or in her room for the ones she’s pilfered—but he was going to stay. He was finally admitting to himself that he was going to stay here with her, and now they don’t have a choice. Is it selfish to tell him now how she wants to be with him? Will it hurt him too much to know that she’s here?

Zach says, “They’re like, literally so modern with traditional vibes, right?”

Mali laughs. “Did you google that?”

---