Page 23 of Summer Breakdown
“We’re hoping Marcel can join,” Jasmine says, pulling her lip as she slowly turns to look at her. Like it pains her. As if looking at Frankie is the last thing she wants to do.
“Oh,” Frankie replies. “Sure!”
He smiles with a blush, the excitement of talking with his mum seemingly disappeared. Teenagers are wild creatures.
“Marcy?” Kehlani asks.
“Yeah?”
“Can we match now?”
He sighs, and Frankie wants to help. Well, she wants to be involved in the conversation, even though she doesn’t deserve to be.
“Azan isn’t here today,” Frankie says. “But he would get the flowers.” Like a loser, she wants Kehlani to like her. “Maybe just on his cheek.” She wants Marcel to like her too, and she’s trying not to feel lame about it.
“Would that work, Kehlani?” Frankie asks.
Jasmine’s neck must snap with the speed in which she glares at her. Frankie wants Jasmine to like her the most.
“Yeah!” Kehlani bounces in her chair. Frankie wishes she could ask Jasmine about it. Now her large house with no stairs that Frankie creeped out of makes perfect sense. “Marcel, please match!”
Marcel rolls his eyes. “This is child abuse,” he grumbles, but Jasmine kisses him on the forehead, and he moves to sit on the stool.
“Ma,” he groans, so she does it again, but Frankie sees Marcel’s smile. “Are you going to match us?”
Jasmine turns around. “Sorry, dude, can’t hear you.”
Kehlani and Marcel talk so fast to each other that Frankie isn’t sure they don’t have a secret language. Well, Kehlani talks and Marcel nods, occasionally adding “yeah” when she stops for breath. Instead of attempting to figure out what they’re talking about, Frankie concentrates on painting three daisies on Marcel’s cheek. It’s not the easiest task,because he answers something Kehlani asks him every few seconds. It’s sweet, though, so she lets it happen.
“Okay. All done, champ.”
“Thanks,” he replies, avoiding the mirror like a pro.
“I’m going to take a photo anyway, Marcy.”
Marcel rolls his eyes but doesn’t tell Kehlani no.
“Wait until Mum has gotten hers done.”
“Yay!”
Jasmine frowns, but it’s playful. “I didn’t say yes.” They both look at her, and Frankie does too, just to match.
Kehlani’s bottom lip pops out, Marcel’s eyebrow raises, and Frankie barely holds in a laugh as Jasmine groans and sits in the chair. Jasmine sticks her tongue out at them, and Frankie wants to know what she’d have to do to be invited to the zoo with them. What’s Jasmine’s favourite animal? Who did Jasmine see enough in to have a family with them? Frankie knows she was young and didn’t necessarily want it to work out this way, but she seems so happy now.
Jasmine tilts her face slightly. Frankie tries not to trace the line of her neck with her gaze. She’s kissed her there before. Frankie wonders if she thinks about it now.
“How do you want it?” Frankie asks.
Jasmine shrugs slightly but doesn’t look at her. “How Marcel has it is fine. Thanks.” Her arms are crossed over her chest, her bag hanging off her forearm like a weapon. It’s such a stark difference to the night they were together. When Jasmine’s hands were against her skin more often than not. When her lips were against her throat. When she so clearly wanted her.
“Okay,” Frankie replies. She takes her time washing the brushes and trying to get the perfect yellow colour that will complement her skin tone. Mainly, she’s trying to avoid the fact this is the first time she’s seeing Jasmine properly and she can’t even enjoy it. Jasmine clearly doesn’t want to be here, and Frankie hates it.
When Frankie looks back at her, Jasmine is smiling a wide, showstopping smile that isn’t directed anywhere near her. She’s watching Kehlani chase after Marcel.
“You’re too slow,” he sing-songs, as he skips across the carpet. Kehlani is laughing, so Frankie figures it’s fine. She stops watching them and looks at Jasmine instead. Frankie wants the reason she’s frustrated to be because Jasmine is pretty. She wants to be upset that she’s missing out on kissing someone only. But Frankie knows it’s more than that. She thinks she might miss her. What she misses, she’s not sure, because she doesn’t know her, but she might miss her anyway.
“Sorry,” Jasmine says, looking up at her once, then twisting again. “I’m ready.”
