Page 27 of Summer Breakdown
Frankie shrugs. “What if she needs her chair, or she wants it? We should have done it ages ago anyway. We didn’t buildthis place, and it’s not something I had to think about, even though realising that now makes me feel gross.”
“Oh.” She made the path for her. Well, for Lani. Her heart thumps too recklessly. Jasmine needs Frankie to do something rude. Walk away mid-conversation or speak to her in a tone. Anything so the way she wants to feel about her is justified.
“Thanks.”
“Sure.”
Jasmine stands on her tiptoes, trying to see Lani. Ezra seems trustworthy, but she doesn’t actually know him well, and she likes to be able to see Lani regardless. Frankie taps her own thigh a few times, then says, “Uhm, I had a question too.”
Jasmine stands flat again and waits for her to tell her, but Frankie just looks at her, her eyes a little wide.
“Are you going to ask me?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” Another moment passes. “Frank?”
“Sorry.”
Jasmine tilts her head. “Tell me something.”
Frankie blinks, her face passive, like she has no idea what Jasmine’s talking about. Perhaps the research Jasmine has done is correct and Frankie’s memory goes sometimes. It’s not exactly what the books said, just that people with depression sometimes have difficulty remembering things. Jasmine doesn’t know exactly how it works, and she’s not planning on asking Frankie.
She is trying to let that night go, though. Frankie clearly doesn’t think about it. Jasmine’s the only one hurt by holding on to it. She’s not the Antichrist; she’s just a woman Jasmine has an obscene crush on who doesn’t want to kiss her. That’s okay.
“Do you want to sit down?” Frankie asks. “If we go on the seats,you can see Lani.”
“Okay,” Jasmine replies. “Thanks.” Jasmine steps lightly over the soil and finds the first chair. Frankie holds on to her wrist as she goes to sit down, and a shock jolts through Jasmine’s body. Frankie can’t have felt it; she doesn’t let her go.
“Sweetheart, wait,” she says, and Jasmine stands stock-still at the use of sweetheart. Frankie likes babe. Jasmine has been patiently waiting for her to call her babe.
“It’ll be too hot.” Frankie grabs a sweater from a pile of things on the seats. It says COACH on it, so Jasmine assumes it’s hers. She fans it out, making sure the entire seat is covered, all while holding on to Jasmine’s wrist.
The material is soft against her thighs when she sits down, and she makes a mental note to wear trousers next time she comes, or bring a blanket to sit on.
“Uh, so, I bought some wheels. They said they were universal,” Frankie says, pulling her phone out of her pocket. It buzzes as she holds it, but she moves the notification away. She taps away and then turns the screen so Jasmine can see large off-road yellow wheelchair wheels. “I was going to get a chair too, but I wanted to check with you first if it was correct, and you haven’t posted a story in days.”
“What are they for?” she asks. The wheels are great. Lani will want them so bad. Jasmine might have to copy Frankie and get some. “Wait, why does it matter I haven’t posted?”
Frankie looks at her like she has something growing from her face. Her phone buzzes again, and Frankie ignores it.
“I use them to talk to you,” she says, with a blush that Jasmine tries to ignore. Frankie could kill her, she thinks—her arms are strong enough that she could kill her—and Jasmine thinks she looks like a fairy. She wants to pick her up and put her in her pocket.
“Why don’t you just message me?”
Frankie’s entire face drops, as if Jasmine had asked her for nuclear codes or something.
“Message someone out of the blue? Are you joking?”
“It’s not a cold call,” Jasmine says, as she makes a note to look for yellow wheels for Lani. It’s a real note this time. Jasmine looks up at her once, and Frankie chews on her lip. “It’s just ‘Hi, I’m being sweet and buying wheels, please help me.’”
“Well,” Frankie replies, her cheeks red. Might be the sun, might be the digging, might be the casual use of sweet. She sits next to her. Jasmine hadn’t invited her to either. She’s so rude. “The kit colour is yellow and green. If you want, I can find a green chair.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why would you buy a new chair?” Jasmine asks. “Is someone else disabled? Or is it just in case?”
