Page 38 of Summer Breakdown
“Oh.”
“You can go, obviously,” Frankie says. “It’s not your fault. I want you to go.”
“Do you want me to take the kids out of the club?” Jasmine asks. Lani would be sad because she’s obsessed with Ezra, but she’d forgive Jasmine eventually. Marcel might not, but Jasmine could entertain letting him go alone. He is fourteen.
“What?” Frankie asks.
“If I hurt you,” Jasmine whispers, her eyes closed lightly. She’s trying to get over it, but maybe she needs to acknowledge it first. “I’m sorry. I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to.” She looks up at her, and Frankie’s jaw is dropped slightly. “I swear I didn’t mean to, but if I did—if I held you down when you wanted to go, then—”
“You didn’t,” Frankie says, reaching for her hand. “Jasmine.”
“If I did, you shouldn’t have to see me. This is your world, not mine.”
“Jasmine,” she begs, but Jasmine can’t look at her anymore. “Please. I don’t want you to do that. You didn’t do anything.”
“I would have stopped,” Jasmine says. She can feel the back of her eyes burn. Jasmine cries a reasonable amount, but the idea that Frankie was scared and had to run makes her gut turn. “I would have stopped. I would have doneanything you asked me to,” she whispers, looking over at her again. “If I had known, if I had seen that you didn’t want—”
“I’m sorry,” Frankie says, her brows furrowed. Her grip on Jasmine’s hand tightens. “I promise you didn’t do anything.”
Jasmine sighs, and she waits for Frankie to speak, but they’re propelled into an awkward silence that she can’t get out of unless she moves a seat over. Thankfully, Lani—the light of her life—saves her by wheeling over, her hair in cute bunches on top of her head. She’s puffed, that much is clear. Hopefully, Frankie will leave her alone.
“Mama,” Lani says, with an overdramatic wheeze. She’s entirely Jasmine’s favourite thing under fourteen.
Jasmine smiles, trying to move away from Frankie. “Hey, baby.”
“I’m so tired,” she replies, resting her head over the back of her wheelchair. “I can’t do any more training. What if I croak?”
Frankie laughs, but her feet tap against the floor.
“You’ve been outside for twenty minutes,” Jasmine replies.
Lani pouts. “Can I play on the grass?”
Jasmine smiles. “Sure.”
Lani shuffles out of her chair and rolls to the ground like she does when being dramatic vocally isn’t enough. Frankie tenses next to her, her arms up like she could have caught her. Frankie knows she can walk. She hasn’t seen it before, but Jasmine guesses it’s a little scary to see Lani fall to the floor for the first time, even if it’s not real. Frankie’s entire body is tensed, even when Lani moves around.
Then, Lani’s upright again with a smile.
“Frankie?”
“Yes, babe?”
“Should I make you a daisy chain?”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“YouknowM’Bakuhasa sister, right?” Mali asks.
It’s a Thursday night, and Frankie’s brain is going a mile a minute. There’s a squeak in the sound system, her sock rolled down on her way in, and some bellend slurps their drink too loud. She wants to die.
All this to say that Frankie is at the quiz. She’s dressed, wrote down things to ask Jasmine, and left the house, even though she had work today. And Jasmine isn’t even here. Frankie invited her and everything. Last time, Jasmine didn’t go and it was Frankie’s fault, so she plucked up the courage to ask her if she was going tonight. It took her eight re-writes and twenty minutes pacing around her living room to come up with ‘hey, you going to the quiz tonight? Would be cool to see you’. She’s the bravest person in the world. There was a time when Frankie only wanted to see her friends, but now, Jasmine has worked her way into every part of her mind. Frankie wants to be around her, even if Jasmine’s glaring at her. Isn’t that what it’s all about? Wanting someone to see you, even on your worst days? To sit with you as they kill you, because at least their hand will be the last thing you hold?
Frankie read a Shakespeare play because she saw one in Jasmine’s bag. She’s not sure she understands it.
Having a heart-stopping crush is not as awful as she thought it would be. It makes her feel like a teenager, but it’s not life-ending. It will be; she knows that. Jasmine will breakher heart, and she won’t mean to. She’ll break her heart without knowing how Frankie takes her tea. She’ll break her heart, and she won’t know that Frankie’s is starting to beat only for her, and she can’t even figure out how to talk to her.
“Frank?” Mali asks, looking over.
