Page 78 of Spring Awakening

“Yeah, of course. I’m right here. No, no—don’t close your eyes.”

“I’m tired,” she says, but she keeps her eyes open all the same. He’s so proud of her.

“I know you are,” he replies. He lies down next to her, and she tilts her neck to look at him. The blood runs down her cheek, and he clenches his jaw so hard he thinks his teeth might shatter. Finally, Frankie is back, and she'll determine what happens next.He has to trust her. “If you keep your eyes open the whole time, I’ll make you tea forever,” he promises.

Mali laughs, coughing as she does. “You’d do that for me anyway.”

“I would,” he whispers. “I would. But please, just for me, keep your eyes open.”

She looks at him, and she looks terrified, like she’s in so much pain it can’t be good, and he swallows down bile. “It’s a good thing I like your face.”

“You have the hots for me so bad.”

She laughs, but her face scrunches in pain, and her eyes water.

“Don’t leave me, okay?” she whispers.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Zach leans against the dining table, taking a deep breath. Mali is okay. She has bruising to her ribs and back but no breaks. He breathes out. Toby is off the team. He breathes in. Mali is home, asleep in her bed. He breathes out.I watched her head bounce off the floor.He breathes in. She’ll be up and walking slowly tomorrow. He breathes out.She said I’d never let anything hurt her, and moments later, someone almost took her head off.

There’s not been a moment since he met her where he’s ever thought he was good enough for her. That there would ever be a way in which he deserved her. He just didn’t think he’d make it as painfully obvious as this. Zach is only good for one thing, and he couldn’t even get that right.

He wonders if this is the sort of shit he could bother a therapist with. The first time he went to see the team therapist, he was nervous, but he’d thought it was the right thing to do. Everyone kept saying he was angry, that things get fixed in therapy, that it would be good for him. But within the first twenty minutes, the guy wanted to bring up every tragic thing that had happened to Zach during his childhood. Zach barely knew where to begin, and by the time he’d gotten his trauma out, the session was over.

He’d complained to his mum about it, and anyone would think he’d called her the worst mother in the world. He’d forgotten that while his mum was more progressive than most of her friends (she didn’t kick him out when she caught him kissing a guy, but it did take a her a few weeks to look at him again) therapy wasnotsomething she abides. At the time, he only had her, so he said okay and never went again.

His problems never went away, but he got slightly better at containing it. He was fine being the moody guy no one wanted to talk to. He was fine following a ridiculous company who stole half his wages around the country. He was fine with the idea he’d have sex and never form an attachment.He was fine.

And then Mali came along, and everything he pretended he never wanted was wrapped up in a tiny purple-haired package who laughed when he could only talk to her with Google as his wingman. The woman who was furious for him when everyone else was waiting to find out what he could do for them next. The woman who smiles at him the moment he walks through the door. Falling in love with her wasn’t the plan—it wasn’t even on his radar—but he never had a choice.

Now, he has real fear. Deadly fear.

When he Googles it, it appears this is the kind of thing he could talk to a therapist about. He’s not looking to figure out the fear. It makes sense. She easily could have died. That’s reasonable fear. But living the rest of his life without her, herno longer existing, the realisation that he wants her for the rest of his existence. That part of his happiness, his safety, his life, hinders on her being happy and healthy. That’s therealfear.

Zach wants to talk to someone about it, and the only person he feels comfortable enough to talk about it with is knocked out on pain meds because he failed.

The doorbell rings, and Zach closes his eyes for a moment, then gets up and answers it because he’s still a functioning member of society, even after almost thirty-four hours at the hospital. He needs to see his mum because Devon won’t answer his calls. Zach doesn’t want to leave Mali here, alone, but he can’t call her parents because it’s the middle of the night. Thankfully, they’d already gone home yesterday. Game day had turned into practice, and no one wants to be around Frankie shouting for that long. Now, Zach’s mum will probably be asleep, but she also might have been alone for an entire day. At the hospital, Mali said Zach’s mum went to dinner with her parents, so at least the evening was okay.

The thought of leaving either of them is going to split him in half.

When the door opens, Mosi’s got him in a hug before he realises it’s him, and Zamina is patting his shoulder from behind her husband. It was sheer luck that Zach convinced them not to come to the hospital. It was taking a while to be seen. She wasn’t allowed visitors. It made no sense for them to come just to sit in the carpark. Zach texted them every ten minutes. He sat on the phone with Zamina for an hour. He made sure he told them when they were on their way home. Now, it’s one a.m., and they’re on the doorstep.

“Oh, hey,” he replies, hugging him back. He tries to move them, which isn’t that hard because Mosi is like five foot five on a good day. Zach could run to check on his mum now, if they’re staying.

“Hey, sweetie,” Zamina says, her voice kind, like she’s not about to hit him for letting Mali get hurt. “Is she asleep?”

“Yeah,” he replies, and Mosi lets go just in time for Zach to see his mum close the porch door. She’s here. In front of him. He doesn’t have to leave at all.

“Ma?”

“Oh, come here,” she says, pulling him into a hug. Zach sighs. He always feels better when his mum is here. By the time Zach’s back in the kitchen, the kettle is on, and there’s piles off food on the side.

“Mal likes chicken soup when she’s unwell, so this should see you through the week. I made extra. Mir says you eat like an ox.”

Zach smiles. “I do. Thank you.”

“How are you doing?” Zamina asks.

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