Page 21 of Summer Breakdown
Frankie can’t move. Jasmine turns away again to look at something with Marcel. Frankie’s hands shake. She’s spent the past week imagining what Jasmine is up to. How she could possibly get in the same space as her again. If she’s having a good time.
“Are you okay?” Kehlani asks, and Frankie looks back at her. She looks so concerned.
“Oh, yeah. Yeah, babe, I’m good. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” she says, with a smile. Frankie swallows. Of course she’d be polite and cute. She’s Jasmine’s. The woman she’s thought about every second of the day since she was an idiot who ran out on her and then never followed up on it. In Frankie’s limited defence, she also didn’t get out of bed for five days. Mainly her mind, but she can’t deny part of it was Jasmine.
“I just need to run and wash my hands, okay?”
“Okay,” Kehlani replies. Frankie stands and turns to Jasmine. She’s looking right at her.
“I can get new paintbrushes too?”
Jasmine frowns, but Frankie doesn’t think she’s annoyed.
“If that’s okay.”
“Yeah. Of course, yeah.”
Frankie is back in front of Kehlani a minute later. She unpacks the new paintbrushes, and sprays antibacterial sprayon the paint. Mali has some in her drawer because she loves a discontinued eyeshadow palette that is years old.
“Is yellow your favourite colour?” Frankie asks. She looks back up at Jasmine, but Jasmine turns away. She looks mostly the same, even in her linen dress. Frankie can still see the outline of her body. Her hair is up today, a straight, bouncy ponytail resting between her shoulder blades. Frankie wants to run her finger along her neck. She won’t because Jasmine might kill her, but God, does she want too. How ridiculous, that now she can see her in the bright sunshine—the only thing that’s been on her mind since she saw her in the pub—and she’s not sure Jasmine would let her glance at her face.
“How did you know?” Kehlani asks, like she’s not in yellow shorts, a yellow top, and yellow sandals.
“Good guess,” Frankie says, sitting on her knees on the floor opposite her with the paints in her hand. “Okay, so we have these, or I could add some grey or black to some of these to try and get them darker, but I can’t paint, so it might go wrong.”
Kehlani giggles. “If you can’t paint, how come you’re painting faces?”
“Good question, babe! Mal was on this stall, but she got pulled into manning the register because no one was getting their face painted. Now, here I am.”
“Oh. If no one else is doing it, I don’t have to do it.”
“Would you like your face painted?” Frankie asks, and Kehlani looks a little nervous, her tiny brows furrowing like this is the most important decision in her life. Frankie hopes it has been. Kehlani looks up at Jasmine, who Frankie then obviously also must look at. Fuck, she’s stunning.
“It’s up to you, baby,” Jasmine says.
Call me baby.
Kehlani frowns in thought for a second, and Frankie smiles.
“Yes, I would like it painted. If that’s okay?”
“Okay,” Frankie replies. “Then let’s paint your cute little face.” Kehlani laughs, and Frankie feels better for it.
“Is it okay to touch your face a bit, babe?” Frankie asks. She could do it without, but her hands might shake without the leverage, or with Jasmine’s presence.
“Yep. Thank you for asking me,” Kehlani replies, with a giggle. “Babe.”
Frankie smiles. “You’re welcome.”
She can feel Jasmine watching them as she paints the flowers on her daughter’s face, but Frankie wants it to look good, so she daren’t look away from the task at hand. It’s basically torture. Jasmine is torturing her.
“Okay, how’s this?” Frankie asks, holding a mirror up for her. Kehlani hums with glee, and Frankie sees Jasmine smile too. Not at her, but she’s smiling near her, so Frankie takes it as a win.
Frankie doesn’t even know her. She shouldn’t be this upset about a situation she put herself in. But, as always, Frankie has overthought it. Yes, it was unkind to run out on her. Yes, it was unkind to not follow up with a text. Mali gave her Jasmine’s number. Yes, she regrets it, but isn’t that enough? Must she imagine they actually went on a date? Must she spend any good time she has picturing life with a woman she knew for less than six hours? Can’t her mind give her a fucking day off?
“Marc, please. Oh, please, please,” Kehlani says, and Frankie has missed something. She blinks the future out of her eyes and looks to Jasmine, who is looking right at her. Concerned, perhaps. Maybe she’s fuming. Maybe she doesn’t care enough about Frankie to be bothered. “Pleasematch with me.”
