Chapter Ten #4
While Dani had planned to cast her mind elsewhere during this segment-there was only so much interest she could feign for anything rugby related-she found herself strangely fascinated by the discussion.
Perhaps because Tackle It was less about rugby itself, and more about equipping young men with the tools to understand their emotions and express them beyond the boundaries of toxic masculinity.
Or perhaps it was because Zaf lit up with passion as he spoke, and the gentle glow she d always been drawn to now burned from his gaze like the sun.
He was . . . wonderful. Brilliant and bold, especially when he said things like I love sports, of course I do-but the culture can easily become toxic.
It s not enough to say, That s not me . Like, all right, nice one, but what are you doing to fight it?
She d always known his grouchy grump routine hid an unexpected softness-but she was starting to notice something else in him, too, a steady core that radiated strength and peace and other cool, immovable things.
She heard it echoing in his voice when he said, You d never tell an athlete to just get over a sprain; you d give them time to recover, physical therapy, whatever they needed.
Why are mental health conditions any different?
At one point, Dani realized with a blush that she was nodding along beside him like some sort of hypnotized acolyte.
She stopped, of course. But as she leaned closer to him, like the tide drawn in by the moon, it occurred to her that she could think of no one she d rather fake date.
Whoever ended up with Zaf would have a partner to be dizzyingly proud of, wouldn t they?
Well, maybe. Or maybe the romance he prized so highly would go to his head and his desire for the ideal partnership would devolve into a toxic need for perfection that led him to ultimately and brutally betray his lover.
Based on personal experience, empirical evidence, most literary canon, and plain old probability, that seemed far more likely than a boring, uneventful life of contentment and faithfulness.
Even if, for some reason, she couldn t quite envision Zaf in the role of Textbook Arsehole.
Most likely, then, he d be the one who ended up hurt, all his sweet illusions shattering like glass. That possibility caused a discordant clang inside Dani that she found quite disturbing.
Eventually, the discussion of Tackle It was expertly wound down by Edison, and Dani waited for more music to be played so she and Zaf could be ushered away.
Instead, the deejay rubbed his hands together menacingly-if the poor, juvenile victim of a centuries-old workhouse could be considered menacing-and said with obvious glee, All right!
Before we say good-bye to DrRugbae, the team and I have cooked up a fun little game to find out if you guys are couple goals -he pressed a button that created some sort of cheering effect- or a total fail. Another button, this time with a boo.
Dani shifted in her seat, frowning over at Zaf.
What on earth was this? No boos. She was too accomplished to be booed.
And Zaf spent his free time teaching little boys how to feel, so he certainly shouldn t be booed.
In fact, if anyone dared to boo him, she d stick her stiletto firmly up their arse. Dry.
While Dani s temper continued to quietly unravel, presumably due to the stress of the unknown, Edison reached beneath his desk and produced two small whiteboards with dry-erase pens Blu-tacked at the top.
So how this works is, I ll ask you questions about each other. He handed them each a board. You write down your answers, then we see if they match. It s a bit like they do on Love Island -you watch Love Island ?
Zaf looked bewildered. Er . . .
Apparently, he d completely missed that particular phenomenon. Fascinating.
Never mind, never mind, Edison said. Let s jump right in, shall we?
Dani narrowly resisted the urge to say, No. We shall not.
At her side, Zaf veered with impressive speed from confusion to horror to unmistakable panic.
Their eyes met, and Dani could almost read his mind.
She d bet money on him thinking, at this very moment, How the fuck are we supposed to answer these questions when we re not really together? I haven t even shagged you yet.
She tried to send back something along the lines of All in good time. And at least you know about my arse tattoo.
Perhaps the telepathy attempt didn t work, because he failed to laugh.
Question number one, Edison said, blissfully unaware of his guests simultaneous internal meltdowns. We ll start easy. Zaf, how does Dani take her tea?
Zaf stared. So now I . . . ?
Now you write down your answer, Dani writes hers, and we see if they match.
Zaf looked dubious. All right.
Also, you have ten seconds. Edison flashed them a toothy grin, tapped a button, and a rather high-pressure clock noise filled the room.
Oh, Christ, Dani muttered, staring at her whiteboard.
She suddenly had no idea how she took her own tea-and, more important, neither did Zaf.
If they were really together, he d be able to answer this, wouldn t he?
Oh dear . If a ridiculous game on a local radio station exposed their lies, Dani might just burn this place to the ground.
After a tense few seconds, she scribbled down her answer without much thought-since they were utterly doomed and absolutely nothing mattered-and waited with dread for the timer to end and Zaf to get this question hideously wrong.
Really, it wouldn t be the end of the world, she told her racing heart.
No one would hear them fail some radio game and come to the ludicrous conclusion that their entire relationship was a sham.
But they might decide that Zaf was a shitty boyfriend, or that their relationship in general was shitty-how had Edison put it?
A fail? -and for some reason, that idea bothered Dani severely.
All right, time to share. Edison grinned. Zaf, what s your answer?
Zaf flipped his board, looking distinctly uncomfortable. Green. She, er . . . well, she doesn t drink regular tea. But she drinks a lot of green tea. So. Green.
Dani stared.
Edison was clearly horrified that she drank anything other than breakfast tea, but he hid it well. Dani, what s your answer?
She flipped her board.
And now Zaf was the one staring.
Green tea! Edison said cheerfully, when it became clear Dani wasn t going to.
She was feeling rather dazed, actually. A rush of relief and a flash of surprise combined to intoxicate her, until she returned to her senses and pulled herself firmly together.
Of course Zaf knew she drank green tea. When she brought him coffee, he teased her about the contents of her own cup.
And really, what was tea, anyway? Minor, that s what.
Practically public information. There were people Dani despised who knew her tea preferences.
Of course, those were usually people she d worked with in close quarters, people who d been forced to actually make her said tea as a matter of courtesy when it was their turn to be on kettle duty. But still.
Still.
Next question! Edison appeared to be enjoying himself. Either he had the intellect of a puppy, or he was unusually invested in DrRugbae. Dani suspected, with no little discomfort, that it was the latter. Dani, what s Zaf s favorite flavor of crisps?
Well, she knew that ; she d seen him eating them often enough.
Dani scrawled salt and vinegar onto her board and flipped it over before the ten seconds were up.
What sort of relationship quiz was this if two work friends could win so easily?
Although, some might say she and Zaf were a little more than work friends these days.
Coconspiracy tended to intensify a relationship.
Perhaps they d leveled up to general friends, or some other platonic relationship status that explained the magnetic pull she felt sitting beside him, as if every second she spent not looking at him or smiling for him or laughing with him was a second wasted.
Perhaps they were best friends. How cute.
More questions flew by, all of which were answered correctly.
But Dani refused to be impressed that Zaf knew her favorite season-autumn-and she wasn t remotely happy with herself for remembering that he preferred dogs to cats.
He had once told her, over the security desk, that cats were sneaky creatures who hid their toilet business, and an animal that hid its toileting could easily make a habit of pissing behind your sofa, and you wouldn t even know until you died of ammonia inhalation.
Really, when he d displayed such an unexpected passion on the subject, how could she forget?
All right, Edison said finally. Last question. Zaf, what is Dani s area of academic interest?
Those words popped Dani s buoyant mood like barbed wire-which made very little sense, because they were doing well enough to excuse a single mistake. Zaf answering this question incorrectly shouldn t throw any real doubt on their relationship. Ph.D.s were slippery and frequently boring things.
Zaf, show us your board!
In fact, this time last year, Dani might have struggled with such a question herself. It was a tricky-
Race and gender in the West after slavery, Zaf said.
At which point, Dani released a garbled sound of astonishment, one that sounded like a cross between a cough, a burp, and a squawked What?, into the ears of the entire city.
Zaf shot her a look of concern, as if he suspected she d accidentally swallowed a passing pigeon. Which would be quite a feat, considering the room s lack of windows.
Dani, Edison said patiently, what s your answer?
Slowly, she turned her board over. Evolution of misogynoir post-chattel slavery,
That s close, right? Zafir looked inordinately pleased with himself.
He actually smiled, a big, beaming grin that made him achingly handsome, all white teeth and dark beard and lovely, lovely mouth.
But she mustn t get distracted by the mouth.
In fact, for once, she couldn t be-she was too busy staring at his whiteboard in astonishment.
There it was, in black and white: a valid understanding of her general thesis topic.
How did you know that? Dani demanded in a whisper.
Zaf arched an eyebrow. You think I don t listen when you talk?
When I m rambling about work? I was absolutely certain you weren t listening, correct.
Yeah, well. He tapped his lovely nose and looked smug.
Zaf, that s almost the title of my most recently published article. In line with her twenty-year plan toward professorship, Dani had, of course, secured bylines in minor academic journals over the past few years.
And now you think you re the only one who knows how to use a library.
Her voice reached dolphin pitch. You ve been reading my articles at the library ?
He shrugged, and she got the impression common sense had broken through his competitiveness, because he now looked slightly hunted. Er . . . yeah. I mean, they re interesting.
Interesting?
It wasn t that Dani didn t find her own work interesting-of course she bloody did.
She had to, or she might have stabbed herself in the throat with a ballpoint pen by now.
And she knew very well that lots of other people found her work interesting, too.
It was just . . . well. She d never been with one of those people.
Not that she was with Zaf. But still. Even Dani s sisters didn t read her papers.
The only friend who did so was Sorcha, and that was because Sorcha had studied a similar field at undergrad.
No one outside Dani s profession had ever withstood her disjointed ramblings about literary theory and come away with a burning desire to learn more about it all.
She simply wasn t as fascinating as the written work itself, as evidenced by the number of dates who had gently informed her that she was more boring than thrilling in long-term conversation.
Back when she still did silly things like date, that is.
So Dani couldn t think of a single damned reason why Zaf would carry himself to the library to read her essays.
Then he slid one big, warm hand over the nape of her neck, squeezed, and said, Don t look so surprised.
You know I love your brain. At which point, Dani stopped thinking of anything at all.
Her throat dried up like the desert, and tiny darts of sheer, sunlit happiness zipped through her blood, and her eyes prickled oddly hot at the corners because-actually, she didn t know why.
All she knew was no one had ever said a thing like that before.
And Zaf, she realized abruptly, wasn t saying it, either. He was lying. He was performing. He was faking it.
Well, that was adorable, Edison cooed, dragging Dani rudely back to earth. She tucked her stormy confusion away and hoped her expression on camera hadn t been too shocked, or alarmed, or bewildered.
Meanwhile, the deejay continued. And there we have it, folks! Zaf and Danika, aka DrRugbae, are most definitely couple goals.
Edison was getting on her nerves, all of a sudden. Back to the workhouse with him.