Page 36 of Summer Breakdown
Ezra shows Marcel some footwork and tries to get the ball to rest in Lani’s palm. Neither of them goes well.
Jasmine wonders if she should offer to help with the accounting anyway. The team isn’t just Frankie. She likes Ezra and Mali. She’d be sad if they lost their jobs because Frankie went to jail. If they figured it out, she could do it at her house and she wouldn’t have to see Frankie. They only talk online, and if Jasmine asks her something specific, Frankie might look up at her. Now, Frankie’s avoiding the quiz because Jasmine’s there.
Jasmine is desperate for friends. It’s a little sad. And she likes them, but they’re not hers. It wouldn’t be fair. Perhaps she could keep Mali and Ezra without going to the quiz? Jasmine went to yoga with Mali, and Frankie wasn’t there. Ezra wants to play badminton with her and the kids, and Frankie ignored the group message, so she won’t be there. Frankie can keep Cam. She’s lovely, but they haven’tmet up due to schedules, and she is Frankie’s best friend. Jasmine’s not a monster.
But it wouldn’t fix it. Jasmine wants Frankie to like her. She wants to know what she did wrong that means she won’t even entertain exploring if they could be friends.
Jasmine wants Frankie to like her, and she doesn’t.
Then Frankie walks onto the pitch. Jasmine swiftly pulls her book out of her bag. Ezra recommended it to her, and so far, it’s pretty good. He wants to know what she thinks once she’s read chapter twenty-three. The writing is stunning, but Jasmine rereads it numerous times because she can’t focus. Frankie is still walking towards her, and Jasmine’s focus is drawn to her. The tension in her thighs. The way her forearms flex when she tenses.
It’s not even her fault. Frankie demands attention when she’s around. She walks past the kids, her hands clenched, and Jasmine tenses her jaw. The top Frankie is wearing is tight, and Jasmine can so clearly see the abs she ran her fingers over. It’s rude how attractive Frankie is. Jasmine’s not ready for her to talk, even though she’s been anticipating it ever since she walked past the children.
“Hi,” Frankie says, when she’s about a metre away. She doesn’t get any closer. Her hands aren’t clenched anymore—she’s crossing her fingers. Jasmine’s seen her do it before. Not even just now when Kai came in. Sometime before, but she can’t place when.
“Hello.”
“Uh, do you have a website?”
Jasmine frowns. “What for?”
“For your business. Accounting, right? Or was Marcel lying to make me feel better?”
“Oh, yeah,” Jasmine replies. She riffles through her bag for a business card. She pulls out tampons, Lani’s camera, lip balm, a pack of playing cards, Lani’s socks, lipliner, Marcel’s headphones, gloss, some hoops, and finally, a business card. She hands it to Frankie.
“You can just tell me, though.”
Frankie looks nervous, like maybe she’s only asking for her website so she doesn’t have to talk to her directly. If Frankie doesn’t want to talk to her, she should stop looking at her. It’s rude, and not at all subtle. Jasmine wants Frankie to like her. She wants Frankie to think she’s interesting, even if Jasmine has no intention of doing anything about it.
“I don’t really know what to ask for.”
“Okay,” Jasmine replies. “Well, I have services on there, but if you tell me what it is you need help with, I can tell you what you need to ask for.”
“I don’t want to waste your time,” Frankie replies. She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, and Jasmine might actively hate her. Truly and to her core might despise the fact that she’s just here, living her life without thinking about Jasmine the entire time.
“I’m offering.”
“I know,” she replies, “but I don’t know if we can afford you yet, and I was hoping your website had prices on it, but what if you’re one of those that’s enquire within? That just means I’m too poor to afford it.”
Jasmine snorts. She does have an enquire within, because she changes her fee based on who’s asking and if they’re rude. Large corporations get charged through the nose, and they pay it. Jasmine works with charities too. She doesn’t charge them as much.
“Frankie,” Jasmine says. She kind of enjoys Frank’s spirals, though. “I’m offering to help. Just tell me what you want, and I’ll tell you if I can do it.”
“I don’t want to take advantage.”
“You know you have an ex-premiership player running around after hours to teach my terrible-at-rugby kids rugby, right?”
Frankie smiles. “Marcel is getting it. I think Lani might want to pick daisies, but she’s not saying that.”
“She probably doesn’t want to wheel all the way over here.”
Frankie laughs. She bends down and grabs a few daisies between her fingers. It’s sweet that she wants Lani to have them, but if Jasmine has to watch her walk all the way over there, she might die. Frankie tears a stem between her fingers, twisting until there’s a small bunch of daisies in her hand.
She hands them to her.
“For me?” Jasmine asks.
Frankie hums, then sits next to her with some numbers scribbled on a page. Her hands shake a little, and Jasmine remembers the only way she can get Frankie to reply to her.
