Page 98 of Spring Awakening

“Maybe.”

“Do you need help?” He looks at her hands, and she remembers the mugs of tea. “Oh, here.”

“Thanks, ba—bro,” he says, and she laughs like she did the first time he said it. He’s trying so hard. “But I don’t need help. We all remember the spice-rack incident.”

“Oh my God,” she groans. Mali forgot to tighten the screws, and three (very small!) spice pots fell over and almost touched his foot. “It wasn’t that bad!”

“I almost died.”

“It was a couple screws!”

Zach pouts at her, and she sighs. If he doesn’t need her help, is she allowed to stay? It’s possible the rules in her head are just that. They decided to be friends only, and that was fine because he’s her best friend. But now she knows what the weight of his hands feel like against her back, and how his tongue feels in her mouth, and now she’s not sure how she’s supposed to pretend she doesn’t want to be touching him all the time.

Mali doesn’t know if she wants to move to Scotland. She’s not even sure she’s allowed to think about it, because he hasn’t asked her to go with him. Maybe he knows it would be a difficult decision to make. Not because of him. She loves him, and she’scertain she’ll love him for the rest of her life. But she bought a house here. She has a job she loves here. Her family are here. And there’s a chance the Dougals might not work out. Maybe he’ll get moved again; maybe he’ll come back. All she really knows is that she wants to be with him regardless.

“Wanna go for a walk?” she asks. “We can pour these into flasks.”

He drops the Allen key. “Yes.”

Mali changes into her leggings and fluffy socks before her tea has had a moment to cool down. When she gets to the hallway, Zach has the flasks and is wrapping something around his waist.

“What’s that?” she asks. His stomach is so unfairly sexy. Prick. Zach laughs, and Mali wants to bottle the sound. When he’s clipped it in place, she’s still confused until he whistles, and Buffy comes running. He clips the end of the now obvious lead to Buffy’s collar.

“Now he can come with us.”

She’s so stupidly in love with him. She might just tell him. There’s no way she wants him to leave having any doubts.

“Look how cute he is. I love him,” Zach says, with a seriousness that she’d think he was commenting on diplomatic issues and not her cat, who chews on his slippers.

“He’s ruining your shoes,” Mali replies. It’s pathetic, really, to be so jealous of a cat (her own cat, whom she loves with her entire heart) that she’ll willingly throw him under the bus just so Zach might acknowledge she’s also here. Instead, he moves his hands over Buffy’s cheeks, mumbling over and over again that he’s such a good boy.

“I love him anyway,” he sighs, then turns to look at her. “What is love if not seeing their flaws and continuing to love them with that knowledge rather than blind affection?”

Mali smiles. She wonders if Zach even has any flaws. He doesn’t leave enough milk to make a tea sometimes, and he putshis washing in the machine and doesn’t turn it on, and he’s made her think about him every second of the day since she met him. Are they flaws?

“Ready?” Zach asks.

She nods, and Zach locks the door behind them. It’s quiet for a while, and Mali takes a thousand photos of Buffy exploring the road. Mali can’t believe there was a time when she thought he was just a grumpy guy. Like he isn’t the type of person to realise Buffy might like the river, but that Mali freaks out when he goes running. Like he didn’t google cat leads. Like he doesn’t look so ridiculous with his large shoulders and a tiny cat lead wrapped around his stomach.

When they get to the trail along the river, Mali asks, “Do I get my cat back when you go?”

Zach pouts as he looks at the sky in thought. “We should ask Buffy who he wants to stay with.”

Mali laughs, her arm bumping against his. “But he’s a little traitor.” Her fingers linger against the back of his hand. It might be foolish, but there’s no part of her that wants to pretend to just be friends.

They walk along the riverside, their knuckles bumping every few steps, and Buffy stays close by. He keeps meowing like he’s the happiest he’s ever been, and Mali wonders if it’s cruel to not let him go with Zach. She’s just not sure she’ll survive losing them both.

Mali slows down to look at the different colours of the tree leaves instead of ahead, so she doesn’t realise when Zach stops walking. His phone is high, like maybe he was taking a photo of her. She bumps into him, but quickly takes a step back. He hasn’t touched her on purpose since they decided to be friends. It feels like she’s crawling through glass every time his fingers skip over her skin. Every time his arms hover, like hugging her just makes sense to him. Every time his eyes drop to her lips.

“Sorry,” she mumbles. Zach smiles, taking another photo of her. If she tells him she wants this to work, they could take photos together in Scotland. Prettier photos than this, probably.

“Let’s sit,” he says. Mali sits first, and Zach follows. He’s not close, though. They could get another, albeit small, person between them. Buffy wanders around the grass behind the bench.

Zach gets closer. When she looks at him, he’s already looking at her. He turns, resting his elbow on the back of the bench, his chin in his palm. Mali thinks about tracing down his neck with her finger. She clenches her hands instead.

“You’re my best friend,” he whispers.

Mali smiles, feeling the familiar burn at the back of her eyes. “You’re my best friend.”

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