Page 49 of Summer Breakdown (Training Seasons #2)

Frankie loses the people she loves. It’s inevitable.

There’s no part of her that wants to watch Jasmine slip away.

There’s no part of her heart that doesn’t beat for Jasmine, but she cannot sit around and watch as the light drains from her eyes.

Frankie woke up today, after being almost radio silent for five days, to texts from Jasmine.

Ones she responded one-word answers to, and Jasmine forgave her and tried again.

She asked her over, she asked if she could spend the night at Frankie’s and every time, Frankie gave her an excuse and Jasmine tried again the next day.

Soon, rightfully, Jasmine will stop. Frankie won’t be worth it anymore.

This feeling might kill her before that, but she can’t take the risk.

It doesn’t take much. Frankie will be a prick, and five minutes later, they leave.

Frankie hasn’t had an episode this bad in so long, but she knows people don’t remember what she was like beforehand.

Even a few minutes of her like this is enough for people to forget what they meant to her before, when Frankie knew what it was to be someone people were able to love.

Jasmine looks up as Frankie walks over the rugby pitch, and her eyes go wide.

Frankie misses her already. There is a real possibility she won’t make it through the winter without her.

It’s not a fear that Frankie actually has, because she doesn’t want to be here anyway, but she doesn’t want it to be something Jasmine has to worry about.

If she leaves now, she’ll be over it by then.

“Hi,” Jasmine says, standing up. “Are you okay?” She hasn’t been to Jasmine’s for days.

Jasmine has been worried because Frankie disappeared without a trace.

It will only get worse. Frankie lost every friend she had the last time, apart from Cam, but it took its toll on her too.

All her other friends were furious. They never forgave her, and she doesn’t want to ruin Jasmine’s idea of her like that.

Frankie needs to have the courage to let her go.

Still, the break-up monologue Frankie revised on the way over here disappears with the smile Jasmine gives her.

She’s glad Frankie is here. It’s—she’s not—God, Frankie isn’t used to feeling anything as deeply as the love she has for her.

It’s why she must set her free, or some other quote Ezra would tell her.

“Yeah,” Frankie replies, pulling her lip between her teeth. Jasmine’s arms go around her quickly. Tightly. Like she’s been waiting to hug her. Frankie wants to hug her back, but she’s not sure she’ll ever let go. Frankie’s not sure she’ll be around long enough to think about it.

“I missed you,” Jasmine says. “How are you feeling?” She pulls back, her hands against her arms. She doesn’t kiss her, and Frankie knows it’s because she doesn’t want to. She never wanted to. She was only ever doing what Frankie made her think she wanted to do.

“I’m fine,” Frankie replies, and Jasmine frowns slightly.

“You sure? You know you don’t have to come back right away.” But Frankie does. She needs to say goodbye. She needs to end things on a good note. That’s how these things work. If they’re at the top of the league, they won’t be as sad when she goes. It’s her bargain.

“Let’s sit,” Frankie says. Jasmine sits close to her, her hand reaching for hers the moment Frankie leans back.

“You’d do anything for me.” Frankie knows it to be true.

She looks straight ahead, but she feels Jasmine watching her.

It’s not fair, because Frankie’s tricking her, but she’ll be happier in the long run .

Jasmine frowns, her eyes rapidly moving across her face. “No.”

Oh.

“What?”

She shakes her head. “Frankie,” she says, her voice low. “Don’t.” Jasmine rolls her lips, her fingers tightening against the chair like she’s waiting for something.

“I love you,” Jasmine says. Her eyes are hopeful, like Frankie has any ability to let that mean anything to her right now. Or maybe ever again. She never wanted to hurt Jasmine, but she knew right at the start that it would end like this. “I love you. Just… go home. I’ll send Ezra, okay?”

“I need to break up with you.” She manages to it sound nonchalant even as it thumps in her chest. It swirls into something that feels too close to imminent death as Jasmine’s jaw drops ever so slightly.

“You’re not in love with me?”

Jasmine doesn’t deserve for someone like Frankie to be in love with her.

She shouldn’t have to deal with the dramatics of someone like her.

Frankie tried her best to make Jasmine like her, but she’s not sure how she did it now.

How she could ever do it again. They’re doomed to be in a stagnant place that she drags Jasmine to with every dreary visit.

Jasmine will stay too long because she’s sweet and she’s kind and she doesn’t know that Frankie doesn’t get any better than this.

“N-no.”

Jasmine takes in a breath like she’s been hit—the kind of breath Frankie watches on the pitch.

Frankie was wrong. She thought nothing had hurt like last night.

Like just making it through to the morning.

Oh, she was wrong. She couldn’t have been more wrong.

The pain slides through her like a hot knife through butter as Jasmine rolls her lips.

“Okay, but, like, uhm, not in love right now, or like … like you’re never going to love me?”

Frankie shakes her head. “We need to break up. ”

Jasmine swallows. Every rapid blink she takes feels like a stab through her chest. Frankie wonders if it would hurt less than this.

“Is this a sabotage thing?” Jasmine asks.

She knows all about it. She’s read every book that exists on bipolar and anxiety because she cares about her.

But there’s researching and there’s living it.

Frankie drags everyone down. Jasmine will feel guilty about going out with the girls while Frankie lies in bed, so she won’t go.

She’ll feel guilty about taking the kids in the pool while Frankie can’t open her eyes, so she won’t do it.

She’ll feel guilty about being happy while Frankie wants to die, and she will stop.

Her life will cease to move forwards until Frankie is better, but Frankie doesn’t get better than this.

“Because if it is, you need—God,” Jasmine says, wiping her face. “Frank, you need to give me something. I can’t hope that’s what this is. I need you. I need you to tell me. Fucking hint or something. I wasn’t in this alone. So why am I the only one in love?”

Jasmine holds on to her hand. “I love you. I am so in love with you.”

It’s weird, feeling nothing at all and still knowing this would eviscerate her later. She knows. Her body knows she won’t survive this. But Jasmine loving her has never made sense. Not now, not ever.

“Is it because you’re scared I’ll leave you?

” Jasmine asks, as if she’s right in her mind.

As if she knows all the routes to the most fucked-up parts of her brain and is flicking through the worst thoughts she’s ever had.

“You don’t want me to hurt you? Because you’re breaking my heart, Frank, and I’m asking you, please don’t. ”

Frankie takes a deep breath, blinking furiously. She wasn’t supposed to fight her on it. Jasmine was supposed to take the win and leave. That’s all she was supposed to do.

“You can have whatever you want from me,” Jasmine says, reaching for her other hand.

Her voice sounds too unsure, and Frankie hates that she’s the reason for it.

She’s hurt her time and time again. “Okay? Time, or—or space. If I’m being too much or if you need me to back off, I will, just … it doesn’t have to be permanent.”

“I don’t want you—“ Frankie replies, but she’s panicking. She hadn’t thought this through. To watch me die. To deal with me. To put your life on hold.

“We’re friends.”

Jasmine frowns. “Do you think this is how I act with my friends?”

She’s right. Frankie doesn’t act with anyone the way she acts with her, because she’s never loved anyone the way she loves her.

Maybe that’s all love is—being with someone despite the fact you can’t believe they want you in the same way.

Maybe it’s letting someone go so they don’t mourn you.

Maybe love is something Frankie doesn’t know how to have.

Frankie shrugs. “I wouldn’t know. You don’t have any; you just stole mine.”

Jasmine clenches her jaw, but it’s too late. Frankie saw the flash of hurt.

“I know you lash out when you’re defensive,” Jasmine says. Frankie’s never lashed out at her, which means Ezra told her, or Cam. All her favourite people sitting around discussing how awful Frankie is. How they need to prepare themselves for her senseless attacks.

“If you want to be friends for a while,” she says, her eyes squinting slightly as she looks away, “we can do that. Tell me what I did wrong, and I’ll fix it.” As if Jasmine has ever been anything other than perfect.

Frankie shakes her head, and Jasmine releases one of her hands.

“Frankie,” Jasmine whispers, her hand against her jaw.

She tilts her face until she looks at her.

Frankie can see the unshed tears in her eyes and the freckles on her nose.

The curls that blow against her cheekbones.

She’ll never be able to move them again.

She’s discounting herself from a space in her life.

Maybe it’s been such a short amount of time that when Jasmine thinks back on it, Frankie won’t even show up, despite the fact that every thought and every action Frankie has from now until the end of her time on this earth will be laced with the idea of her.

“This was something. You can’t tell me that it wasn’t; I won’t believe you. I can’t believe you. But I want—I deserve someone that loves me.” And she does. Jasmine would deserve anyone she wanted. Someone that makes her want to be happy every second of every day.