Page 28 of Summer Breakdown
“It’s for Lani,” she replies, with a frown. As if they can’t see and hear Lani’s squeals at being pushed around the field with ease right now.
“I wouldn’t expect you to provide a chair so she can join in,” Frankie says casually. As if Jasmine isn’t used to providing everything Lani needs. “The training kits are included in the costs.”
“They’re significantly cheaper than a wheelchair.”
Frankie frowns. “We said Lani can play, and she can. So, we’ll have what she needs.”
“Oh.” Frankie’s phone goes off again. “Your phone buzzes a lot,” Jasmine says.
“Yeah,” Frankie replies. She loves a one-word answer. Jasmine tries not to take offence. But then Frankie spins her phone to show her screen again. It’s a calendar and has, like, twenty things per day. There are so many entries that Jasmine can’t even focus on one for long enough to read it.
Jasmine is overwhelmed just looking at it. “I didn’t realise you needed such a strict schedule.”
Frankie hums. “It probably doesn’t need to be this intense, but it does help.”
“I think if I even had to figure out that many things to do in a day, I’d be bonetired.”
“I am pretty tired,” Frankie says, with a small laugh. “I forget how tired because it’s there all the time, you know?”
“Not really,” Jasmine says, “but it does sound like a lot. Is there anything we can do?”
“What do you mean?”
Jasmine shrugs. “I don’t know, like, I can message you to remind you about training, or, I don’t know. I just wanted to help, but it’s silly.”
“It’s not,” Frankie replies, with a smile. “I’m a very anxious person.” Jasmine waits for her to say something else, but she doesn’t. It’s left floating in the air, like she just wanted Jasmine to know.
Elaborate on your thoughts. Tell me your darkest desires. But don’t look at me.
“Is that why you only talk to me if I post something?” Jasmine asks.
Frankie groans. “I said hello the other day.”
“When?”
“In a dream or something,” she says. “Still counts.”
Jasmine smiles despite herself. Frankie’s sweet, and anxious, and bipolar. It’s still not enough. Frankie could have spoken to her. They’ve seen each other twice now. It’s clear they’re going to see each other again—with Marcel and Lani both training here—and Jasmine is still in the dark. Frankie appears to be content with pretending it never happened, so that’s what Jasmine will do too. She has no desire to ignore her, but they don’t have to be friends. This was a one-off.
Frankie pulls her notebook out and writes down about a chair. Jasmine isn’t supposed to look, but she can’t help herself. The pages flip with the wind, and the glimmer of some pencil sketches pass by.
“Do you draw?” Jasmine asks.
“Yeah,” Frankie replies.
“Can I see?”
“Uhm—“
“It’s okay, don’t worry,” Jasmine says. Stupid. They’re not friends.
Frankie tilts the book inwards as if Jasmine is going to steal it from her, but then she flattens it completely and shows her some. It’s a page full of lips, hands, a few shoulders. Jasmine’s eyes widen. How powerful someone must be to be able to draw.
“Oh my God,” she whispers, her fingers close to the page but not touching. “That’s insane. You’re so talented.”
Frankie hums, and a soft breeze moves Jasmine’s hair into her face. Frankie is quick, though, moving the strands out of her eyes. The page flutters. Jasmine can’t see anything for real, but she thinks there’s flowers and someone with curly hair. She’s jealous of someone Frankie thinks is nice enough to remember in pencil.
Jasmine pulls back and tries to remember what they’re discussing. Lani.
