She nods. “Yeah.”
“Clumsy as fuck,” I add.
“You weren’t,” she says.
“I know I wasn’t, Jelly. I was talking about you.”
There’s a pause.
“I was a kid!”
“Yeah a very clumsy, uncoordinated child.”
She flips me off.
“I miss that,” she continues quietly. “I miss childhood innocence. I still remember how you used to wash your kit yourself. Didn’t trust your mum to get the stains out.”
I blink. “You remember that?”
“You used way too much soap powder,” she says. “But I liked the smell.”
I glance at her. “Oh?”
She shrugs, embarrassed now. “You were sweet back then. Always wanted to look your best. Especially when you played the older kids.”
“You remember a lot,” I say.
She hesitates. Then: “You were the only one who was nice to me. Besides Za. Then you started training seriously and got mean. But I was convinced that under all that prepubescent nervous system was still the sweet kid who scrubbed his kit on Sundays.”
A quiet laugh slips out of me. “Is that why you used to smell my clothes?”
Her face heats. “It was stupid.”
“No,” I say gently. “It’s… sweet.”
“Shut up, Jabari.”
I turn toward her fully now. The joking edge is gone.
“I’m serious,” I say. “I’m sorry I turned something innocent into something else.”
She studies my face, water running between us, steam rising.
For a long moment, neither of us speaks.
Then she steps closer and rests her forehead against my stomach.
I don’t move. I don’t pull her closer either.
I let her decide.
“You okay?”
She nods, then looks up at me. “I’m just happy, I think. Today was fun.”
“Good,” I lean down. “I like making you happy, Jelly.”
I pop a light kiss on her nose and start to pull away but she wraps her arms around my neck. She initiates the kiss this time. I did not expect that.
