Page 133 of Summer Breakdown
She’s ridiculous. Jasmine saw her get dressed this morning. She helped her pick out the shorts. It didn’t even end with Frankie going down on her, as she’d hoped it would. They’re settling back into a routine, and Frankie knows it makes sense, but God, Jasmine is so beautiful.
Frankie hums, kissing her again. “Hi.”
“Ready?”
Frankie smiles. “Yeah, I’m ready.”
Ezra has never played this well in his life. Frankie can’t hide her pride when he takes the player out, but she can see the wince in his eyes. She wonders how long he’ll be on the pitch for.
The crowd is thunderous, so loud Frankie can barely hear a word that’s being said to her, but it doesn’t matter. The team is thriving. She pulls Bright off and sends Johnson on.
“God, I am glad you’re back,” Kai says, as he warms up. He kisses her on the head and runs on. She welcomes Bright back. He did well.
“You good?” she asks.
“Yeah,” he replies, positively manic.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. I don’t wanna jinx anything, so don’t ask me anything else.”
Frankie laughs. It’s been a close match. The Groundhogs are annoyingly good this time. There’s no panic in Frankie’s mind. There are base-level nerves because she really wants this. The team really wants this; they deserve it too. But it’s not life or death. Either way, she gets to go home with Jasmine.
That’s the thought that flows through her mind the entire match. The Titans go up, then the Groundhogs go up. Consistently. M’Baku is right there, defending like his life depends on it. Frankie wonders if he’d want to join them if they won. Kai hates him, but Kai isn’t the coach, and frankly, he dislikes quite a lot of people.
The Titans have beaten the Groundhogs before, but they’ve studied their techniques, and it’s too close.
It’s thirty-three all with thirty seconds to go. A draw isn’t the end of the dream. They could try again next year. The Groundhogs have the ball, but Ezra intercepts it, and Frankie screams so loud she might rip her throat. In any other world, a draw against them would be the best thing that’s ever happened to them. They’re a good fucking team. It’s the best the Titans have ever played. The Groundhogswant Zach. Whatever happens, happens. They can try again next year.
But Johnson twists a three-sixty, catching the ball with ease. Frankie waits for him to slow because of his dodgy knee, but he doesn’t. He’s barrelling in front of Zach.
M’Baku lunges at him, but Kai tosses it, and it’s gone. Zach catches it, but he won’t make it to the goal line before he’s taken down and it’s thrown out. The Groundhogs don’t need a win; they need the Titans to lose. They won’t be trying to score.
“Kick it!” Frankie shouts, but it’s no use. The fans are feral. Her throat is hoarse. He probably wouldn’t hear her, even if there was no one else here.
“Zach, kick the fucking ball,” Mali shouts from behind her. She’s been crying the entire game. It’s over. Eighty minutes has passed. The whistle blows. If it’s out, it’s out.
Frankie watches in slow motion as Groundhogs descend on him, but the Titans are there. Ezra barrels through men with ease. Kai is taking players out at the knees. Zach kicks it. He’s not in the centre of the pitch. He’s fucking ages away. There’s no one to catch it, but it’s too high anyway. He’s going for the goal.
Frankie’s heart is in her chest. It might stop for a moment. The grounds are silent, both sides deadly quiet as they watch the ball spin through the air. She can’t tell from this angle if it will make it.
Then the crowd goes wild, and Frankie’s lifted by someone she’ll whack later before she’s promptly put down again and swarmed by players.
Holy shit.
The Titans are two points ahead. It’s over.
They did it. Frankie turns as the players run onto the pitch. Mali is crying, Cam is crying, Jasmine might be crying, and Frankie can’t breathe. She walks over, reaches up, and kisses Jasmine. It’s enough to knock some sense back into her.
Jasmine pulls back with a smile. “Go!”
“Catch me up,” Frankie replies, then she turns and runs. Ezra is smiling, and Frankie jumps as soon as she can.
“I can’t believe how good you were.”
He pants. “Alright. Rude.”
Frankie squeezes him tighter. “What do you say, wanna go back to the prem?”
