Page 29

Mali screeches around the kitchen to “I’m Every Woman” by Whitney Houston, sliding over the tiles in her fluffy socks. It’s too hot for them now, but she wears them all the same. Buffy glares at her from where he’s lying on the windowsill. He was asleep, as he always is, but Mali has the wooden spoon to her lips as if she’s at a concert, so Buffy has no choice but to entertain her now.

Zach wasn’t here when she woke up this morning, and Mali forgot that the outside world even existed. She thought she lived in the moments between Zach kissing her, ducking out for breath, and kissing her again. She’s not sure she cares about anything else. She will later, when she can barely move because she’s been dancing all morning. It might be because she can finally move her arms above her head, or it’s because she had the best orgasm of all time, or it’s because Zach’s the love of her life.

It might be all three.

She misses him, and it’s stupid. Her phone bleeps with a text, and she pouts when it’s Frankie telling her dinner tonight sounds good, not Zach. Then she feels bad about it. Mali was a little hurt when Zach wasn’t there this morning, but she’s not mad at him. She just wishes he was around. Maybe that he would have woken her up when he went to training.

If he wants to do it again, which she’s hoping he will, she’ll tell him that. She wonders if he’ll sleep in her room from now on, or maybe she’ll go to his.

Mali preps the dinner with Frankie and Ezra. Frankie asked if he could come, and she had no desire to say no. She thinks it might be easier for Zach too. She’s in the kitchen peeling potatoes when the door finally opens, and a smile blooms on her face so fast she knows Zach is going to call her out on it. She doesn’t run up to him, but she regrets it almost as quickly when he strides to the kitchen like he’s just as excited to see her.

“Hi,” she says, when he comes in. His jaw is tight when she sees him, but she wraps her arms around him anyway. She hooks her chin over his shoulder, and she wonders if she can kiss him now.

“Hi.”

She pulls him closer, and his hands linger around her waist. Something happened.

“What’s wrong?” She pulls back, and his hands stay against her. Zach smiles, but he’s clearly tired. She’s just going to kiss him really quick, and then she’ll figure out what’s wrong. Her nose brushes his, and she pushes up on her toes, but their lips never connect because he moves back. She’ll pretend the gasp was from pain in her ribs, not him. She’s not sure which is true.

Zach takes a step back, his hands floating along her arms until her reaches her hands. She wonders if his mum is hurt. If Devon is back in jail. Her heart lurches for him.

“Mali,” he whispers, holding onto her fingers. “We shouldn’t have done that yesterday.”

She frowns. “What? Zach, I’m fine.”

“You’re a relationship girl,” he says, and she drops her hands.

Oh.

“What?” she asks, even though his hidden words are clear. It makes no sense. He used to be a casual guy, but not with her. He wasn’t supposed to be casual with her.

“You’re—” He’s not looking at her. He starts pacing. He’s lying. She knows he’s lying because she knows him, but he’s not meant to lie to her.

“Relationships are for you, and they’re not for me, and we shouldn’t have… I’m sorry.”

She knew he was casual about as well as he knows how important sex is to her. How she can’t sleep with anyone she doesn’t feel something with. How she asked him to stay forever, and the next morning he was gone, and she didn’t make the connection because Zach would never do that to her. How there’s never been a single thought in her head that Zach would use her like this. Does he tell other girls that they’re everything? Does he imagine his children with their hair? Did he only tell her those things to get into her pants?

“So why did it happen?” she asks. She clenches her jaw until it hurts, but it stops the tears forming, as she hoped it would. He looks at her, and he looks so much like her Zach. She takes a deep breath as he opens and closes his mouth while he thinks of a lie to tell her.

“You were hurt.”

Oh. He’s not lying. She was hurt. He’s not wrong. It’s nothing compared to how she feels now, though.

“Oh my God,” she mutters. She slept with him because she loves him, and he fucked her because he thought it would make her feel better. How mortifying. Her legs feel shaky, like if she tried to move, she might fall to the ground. God, she thought she was heartbroken when her relationship ended years ago, but it’s nothing compared to this. How has he been in her life for a few months and she can’t picture the rest of it without him anymore? How has she been daydreaming about a family with him, about a home with him, about life with him, and he doesn’t want that back?

“Don’t lie to me,” she whispers. She wants to tell him to go fuck himself. She wants to tell him to get out of her house. She wants to tell him he’s breaking her heart, but she can’t get it out. The tears fall before she can stop them. She cries because she pushed it too far. She cries because she’s not sure they’ll ever be back to normal, when their normal is so different. She cries because she misses him, and she never even had him. “Break my heart if it’s true, but don’t lie to me.”

She cries because how did she get it so wrong?

“Mali,” he gasps, and his arms are around her before she can push him off. He seems shocked she’d be upset, and she knows he doesn’t think highly of himself, but she’s been so obvious. “No, no, baby, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I didn’t—fuck. I—God, Mal. Mal, I didn’t mean it. Please, please don’t cry. Fuck. I’m such a fucking idiot.”

She pulls back. “What?”

“Please stop crying. Please.”

She pushes him off. “Zach, don’t lie to me. If you don’t—if it was just casual for you, you can say that.” She’s not sure she’ll forgive him because there was no need to kiss her. There was no need to tell her he imagines his kids having her hair. There was no need for any of it.

“There’s not a single thought in my mind about you that is casual,” he says.

She swallows, wiping at her face. “Then why did you say that?”

“I have to move to Scotland.” Her heart drops. Scotland is hours away. It’s the other end of the country.

“What?”

“My agent finally got in touch. The Dougals want me at the beginning of the next season.”

Mali frowns, wiping her cheeks. “The Dougals? Aren’t they in the premiership?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh my God,” she says. She doesn’t want him to leave, but above all else, she wants him happy. He’s been dreaming about the premiership for years. It’s all he’s ever wanted. Mali will have to visit him and his new Scottish girlfriend and pretend her entire life hasn’t been ripped apart. “Why aren’t you happy? This is what you wanted.”

“I don’t want to go.”

Mali frowns. “This is the premiership, Zach. This is everything you wanted. Why don’t you want to go?”

“Because you’re right here.”

She blinks. “What?”

“You, Mal. You’re here. Of course I don’t want to go.”

“This is what you’ve been training for,” she whispers, but she doesn’t want him to go either. “This is what you’ve always wanted.”

“Everything I ever wanted ceased to exist the moment I saw you. You called me a fucking wanker in the carpark—”

“I did not.” She sniffs. She doesn’t cry again, but somehow, it’s worse.

“You practically spat in my face, and I have been hanging on your every word ever since. I don’t know how I’m supposed to leave you here.”

She wipes her cheeks again. So much has happened in three months, and she never thought it would end like this. “I’ll visit, and—and you can come back. Are you sure you have to go? Can’t we negotiate it?”

“I don’t have the money.” Zach swallows, his arms swinging by his side. “Can I touch you?”

“Yeah,” she replies, and he pulls her into his arms.

“I panicked when they told me, and I know you don’t like long distance, and I wanted to make it easier, but I forgot to ask Google ’cause I’m an idiot. Nothing I think about you is casual.” He kisses her once. “I’m so sorry.”

She kisses him back. “It’s going to be okay,” she lies. She wonders if she wishes he was telling the truth. That he only wanted to be casual with her because at least he’d be here. At least she wouldn’t spend every second of the day wondering what he’s doing, or if he’s lonely, or if he’s thinking about her. “We just need a plan.”

“I can’t see a way out,” he whispers, his cheek against the top of her head. “They’re going to keep moving me. I won’t be able to buy them out because I’ll move up and down. I don’t even know what happens when I’m too old for anyone to want me anymore. I’ll be doomed to play in the local league until I’m sixty-five and they steal the last of my pension.”

“Well figure it out, baby. It’s going to be okay.”

“Devon has been cashing in on it since the start,” he says, and Mali pulls back. She’s furious. Why is there never anyone there to protect him? “You are the best thing in my life. And I need to keep us casual,” he whispers. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to leave you, and I can’t imagine doing it at all if you look at me like you did last night.”

Mali hugs him harder. Everything she wants is slipping away. “You’re my best friend first.”

She doesn’t tell him that she’d go with him if he asked, because she’s not sure that she would. There’s no doubt in her mind that she wants him forever, but he’s right. He might get moved again. He might end up right back here in a year, and she’ll have given up her house for nothing. Buffy took months to be happy here, and they only moved three roads over. She wants to be with him, but he said he wants to keep it friendly. That he can’t imagine leaving her already. She can’t make it worse when it’s already so hard.

By the time the door knocks, Mali has stopped crying, and she feels like the entire world is going to burn to the ground. Or that she might burn it to the ground. She can’t figure it out. Zach is acting like Zach, but a sad version of Zach, and it makes her want to pull her heart out of her chest. It would hurt less. Mali places the food on the table as Zach grabs the door. There’s nothing she wants to do less than entertain Frankie, especially seeing as her and Zach don’t actually have to be mates anymore. He’s leaving. Fuck, he’s leaving.

But he has to tell Frankie anyway, and Mali’s still half hoping that the Goliath sponsorship could fix it all. She hasn’t mentioned it to Zach because she doesn’t want to give him hope. Frankie has already said yes, but they have no idea when the funding gets here if they do say yes. So, she still might get lucky, but right now, it doesn’t feel that way.

“Bro,” Ezra says.

“Oh, hey,” Zach says. Mali smiles when they enter the kitchen, and yes, she could try and make her face look happier, but she doesn’t have it in her right now.

“What’s wrong with you two?” Frankie asks as she sits down.

“Sorry,” Mali groans. “I’m being a Debbie Downer.”

“I’m moving to Scotland,” Zach says quickly, and Mali’s already crying when he looks over at her.

Frankie is livid. “You’re what?”

Zach sighs, and Mali hugs him, and she wants to kiss him on the shoulder but that doesn’t sound friendly.

“Have you heard of Hardship Fortune contracts?” he asks, but Frankie is still looking right at her. “I signed one when I was thirteen, and it’s still ruining my life, to this day. I’m surprised they didn’t have to tell you when you signed me.”

Frankie frowns. “We barely made the league. I wasn’t looking at contracts particularly well. Fuck.”

Mali sniffs, moving away to grab a tissue, and Zach places some water on the table.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “We invited you around so I could apologise for my comments last season and try and make nice, and now I’m fucking everything up anyway.”

“It’s not your fault,” Frankie replies. “Well, the comments were, but I was being a bit of a bellend anyway. The contract’s fucking shit. I dunno how they’re even still legal.”

“I had one,” Ezra says, as Mali piles some food on Frankie’s plate.

“How did you get out of it?” Zach asks, with a desperation that slices at her skin.

He shrugs. “I didn’t. I went to the premiership.”Mali swallows. It’s going to be fine. It would have been fine if Zach hadn’t told her he wants to be casual, because yeah, him moving to the other end of the country is not ideal. But he’s her home. Where she lives means nothing to her; she wants to be with him anyway. Long distance is never what she wanted, but she wants Zach more than anything else.

Ezra’s shoulders relax a little when he talks next. “Thanks,” he says, as Mali places his plate down. Zach finally sits. “I did everything they asked me to do—sponsorships that meant nothing, or worse, were unethical—and I saved until I could buy myself out. Then I ran straight back home.”

“How long did it take?”

Ezra looks over at Mali, then back to his plate. “Three years.”

Mali chews on her lip. “Three years isn’t even that bad, hon—bro. Dude.”

“What?” Frankie says with a light laugh, and Zach smiles too.

Mali shrugs. “We’re being brave about Zach leaving, because if we don’t, I’m going to have a breakdown, and you’ll miss me at work,” Mali replies.

“Uh-huh.”

“What if I’m only there for a year and we get relegated?” Zach asks, and his voice sounds neither chill nor brave. Mali didn’t realise he’d thought this much about it, but she gathers he has to think about it every year. “What if I fail and I’m stuck in some shitty town, and I can’t get out? What if three years is too long to be away from you?”

Mali wonders if he regrets saying they should be friends for the remainder of his time here. Somewhere, she knows it makes sense to him. He’ll think she’ll be a little hurt now, and she’ll get over it. Somewhere in his tortured heart, he has no idea how much she loves him. How her entire world turned upside down the moment he called her bro in the office.

She swallows. “It’s going to be fine. The premiership will be good for you, and don’t tell Frankie, but I’ll work on sponsors for you. You can buy yourself out so fast. Maybe you’ll even like it there.”

“Frankie heard nothing,” Frankie replies. She looks at Ezra, then at her plate. “Mal, how is the Goliath sponsorship coming along?”

She perks up a little. This contract has been so stressful because she feels like so many people’s dreams are pinned on it. Zach put his proposal in for a junior league, but now he might not get to see it either way. She wonders if Zach will try to pull away from her when he moves. If he thinks it’ll be better for her. She wonders how long he’ll reply to her messages and answer her calls—if she’ll be doomed to watch him see the junior league come to fruition through Instagram stories he likes and refuses to comment on. She wants to believe they’ll get through it. She wants them to get through it. She’s not sure Zach trusts her like that.

“It’s going. I’m really hoping it comes through at the end of the week,” she says, for no specific reason at all. “Did you allocate the funding yet?” She’s about as subtle as she can be, but no one looks at her in a weird way, so she thinks she got away with it.

“Yep,” Frankie says. “But it’s not here yet.” She looks at Ezra again, and Mali’s heart sinks. So they can’t buy Zach out right now, and by the time it’s here, he’ll be locked into a contract with Dougals, but that’s okay. It’s just a few years, and she’ll still get to hold his hand when they’re seventy-five. She’ll still be able to see their children run along the river. He will still be hers in three years.

Mali smiles, and she lets her foot rest against Zach’s shin. He moves, and she can’t tell if he was already moving and she didn’t realise, or if he’s moving because that’s not casual. He looks at her, and she can’t tell at all.

“Frank,” Zach starts. “If we can get it in before I leave, you wanna do a magazine cover with me?”

Mali smiles, and Frankie frowns. “What for?”

He shrugs. “I’m bisexual. We think it’d be good to get it out… but I’m not the first queer person on the team.”

“Everyone knows I’m gay,” she replies, but her face lights up all the same.

“Yeah,” Ez says, stabbing another piece of chicken. “But imagine how pissed off Aunt Linda would be if you put it on a magazine cover.”

She laughs, her head thrown back with the force of it. “You think we could get Gayle’s?” Gayle’s is the oldest Black-owned magazine around. It’s basically a historical archive. They’ve done a few sports pieces before, but Mali thinks they’d be interested.

Mali nods. “I’ll send an email.” She wonders if she should say the rest out loud, but there’s already so much sadness in the room, and she wants to say something good. “You know, Glory Park want you for their new women’s collection.”

Frankie’s eyes bulge out. “They what?!”