Page 12 of Spring Awakening

Still, she takes a deep breath and looks around the carpark. It turns out she can’t remember what Zach’s car looks like. She wonders if he’s here. She wonders if it would make her feel better to see him now. Probably. He was nicer last night than he had been in the morning. Maybe he’s not used to new people.

She wonders if he’s tied his hair up again.

But he’s not here. God, she doesn’t want to go in. Mali is not an easily embarrassed person, but she doesn’t love to be forgotten. There were a couple back-and-forth emails yesterday after she trifled through her junk mail, so she should be more confident than she is. Then, as she’s contemplating going back home, the front door opens.

It’s not Zach, and she can’t tell if she’s disappointed, but then the woman comes out into the sunlight and waves so wildly at her that Mali can’t help but wave back.

“Mali?” she shouts, and Mali thinks it’s Frankie Adebayo. Thinks. She’s seen her a few times in the papers and stalks her on social media, obviously, but this woman is bald. Frankie had hair the last time Mali saw a photo of her, and she doesn’t know her well enough to recognise her on face shape alone.

Then she gets closer, and Mali knows it’s her from the sheer width of her shoulders. Frankie should be terrifying. She could probably knock Mali out with a flick to the temple, but she’s smiling so brightly at her that she just looks kind. She’s very pretty up close. She has deep brown skin, bright brown eyes, and a smile that wouldn’t look out of place on a Hollywood billboard. Her body showcases the years she spent on a professional rugby team. It’s obvious, even though she’s wearing enough layers she’d be warm if they strolled up Mount Everest.

As they meet in the middle of the carpark, Mali says, “Hey.”

“Hi! Oh my God,” Frankie says, as they come face to face. Frankie is slightly taller than Mali, but not by much. “I am so sorry for Monday. I’m mortified, and truly, we should blame Ezra, but either way, I am so sorry no one was here.”

“That’s alright.” She smiles, but she’s thankful for the apology. “Zach was here.”

Frankie gives her a look. It’s not unkind, but it’s clear she has an issue with Zach. It’s not like Mali didn’t know that, but it makes her feel some kind of way.

“Well, today is much better. Everyone is here. Want to come meet everyone at once?” Frankie asked hurriedly. “Or I can do some sessions instead. Of course, you’ll meet the players at some point anyway, and you only need to know the people who work in the office, so whatever you want, we can do that. Did you meet anyone else yesterday?”

Mali blinks, her head spinning.

“I’m talking too fast, aren’t I?” Frankie says, running her hand over her head.

“A little.” Mali smiles. “And I met Lisa too.”

Frankie takes a deep breath—one like Mali would expect a toddler to take when their parents think they’re running around too much.

“Okay. Good. Lisa is the best. First: are you still happy to work here?”

“Yes.”

Frankie does a small, happy jump. “Second: girl, your hair is the best thing I’ve ever seen.” Mali smiles, flipping the orange locks over her shoulder. This wig isn’t as long as the purple one. It sits just below her shoulders, and it’s styled into an old-money long bob. She adores it.

“Thank you.”

“Third… am I on number three?”

Mali nods, feeling more at ease with every word Frankie says.

“Do you want to meet people in small doses? I swear we won’t make you say any fun facts.”

Mali laughs and follows as Frankie starts to walk towards the office. “All at once is fine. I already know the players, and I’ll try my hardest not to fangirl, but my dad wants autographs so bad.”

Frankie throws her head back as she laughs. “Ezra will be a little bitch about it, but if you don’t back down, he’ll give you a jersey too.”

“How long do I have to stare at him to get a set?”

Frankie cackles as they enter the office, and everyone turns to look at them.

Mali looks around the room. As promised, everyone is here. She gives a small wave as she tries to not regret saying she’d meet everyone at once. Her gaze slides over Zach sitting towards the back. She waves to him, and he frowns, looking away. Maybe he didn’t take the lack of housing offer as well as she thought.

“Everyone, this is Mali Okeye,” Frankie says, tucking her hands into her back pockets. “Make her feel welcome, or she’ll tell the press you’re a dick.”

“Standard news for Azan,” someone replies. Mali looks over, desperate to see where the voice came from, but it could have been anyone. Most of the players laugh, some louder than others. Frankie doesn’t respond.

“Oi,” Ezra says. His voice is deeper than Mali remembered. He’s silly hot. Like, she’d be too terrified to ever actually speak to him hot. She doesn’t imagine him in any scenarios other than on the rugby field, but she can see why he has thousands of fans. “Don’t be a prick.”

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