Would there be? Maybe it would be different now. Maybe Cari really meant that she was sorry and that she would come back.
Cari smiled and shook her head. “It’s my own fault for being away for so long. You’ve had to find other people to talk to. But I’m back now.”
“You’re back,” Megan said slowly. “But are you back the same as you were before? Is anything going to change?”
Cari’s smile broadened and she reached toward Megan again. “No, Meggie, sweetheart. Everything can be just the same as it was. But I hope you’re taking a break from roller derby with that injury.”
Megan didn’t take her hand. There was another lump in her throat. Cari had seen the injury, but hadn’t said anything until she found an excuse to blame it on roller derby. It could have been from anything—Megan could have been in a car accident or fallen off a trampoline.
Gianna had texted to see if she was all right even though she’d just seen her yesterday, even though Megan had pushed her away, even though she’d refused to have anything official between them.
And Cari had obviously, completely, misunderstood Megan’s question. Or at least she’d misunderstood the intent. Megan couldn’t let everything be the same as it had been. She couldn’t live that way. She wouldn’t let herself.
Besides, roller derby had made her stronger. Not just physically, but also emotionally, surer in her own skin. The next time someone hit her would be just like the last time: she would hit back.
Megan looked straight at Cari, lifting her shoulders into a defensive, powerful stance that she’d learned at roller derby. It hurt, and she shouldn’t have done it, but it made her feel stronger.
“You might not have noticed,” she said, “but I’m not apologizing.”
Cari blinked, but her smile didn’t fade. “You don’t have to apologize, Meggie. Everything’s going to be all right.”
Megan shook her head. “I didn’t apologize because I’m not sorry. You do that again—you lay another fucking finger on me—and I’ll hit you back even harder.”
For a moment Cari’s smile was frozen on her face. Then it transformed into a snarl of pure rage. “You bitch! You just invited me here to lead me on, didn’t you?”
“No. You aren’t even worth that.” Megan made sure to enunciate every word as she stood up. “I came here because you wanted to apologize, and I was so damn depressed from my shoulder injury that I thought it would be good to see you. But it wasn’t. It was the same as it always was.”
Cari shot to her feet, hands white-knuckled on the table. “I love you and you know you love me. We can’t be apart any longer. You need me!”
Megan remembered Cari as exuding strength and power, even though she was, like Gianna, several inches shorter than Megan. But she didn’t feel that power anymore. Cari was angry, but her anger was petty.
She reached into her purse for cash and tossed a five on the table, to pay for her untouched ginger ale and hopefully make up for the scene they were causing. “You’re the last thing I need, Cari. Goodbye. I mean it. Don’t you touch me again.”
She left the bar.
Her hand was shaking as she reached into her purse again. It took her three tries to unlock her phone. But she did it and, with adrenaline still pumping through her body, her ears roaring with the anger and daring of what she’d just done, she blocked Cari’s number and deleted all of her texts.
Then, as she walked the blocks home, she texted Gianna.
I’m OK. Thanks for texting. It actually was just what I needed.
The reply was swift. Good. Can I come over? I’ll bring food.
Megan took a deep breath and leaned on the door to her building while she considered. She wanted Gianna right now; the fight with Cari didn’t feel over, and it never would, now that she didn’t even know if Cari was going to try to contact her. She couldn’t afford to try to get closure with Cari, so she wanted the next best thing.
But at the same time, she wanted to be alone. She wanted to mentally explore being alone, and single, and not looking. And she was drained from the fight; she needed to relax.
Reluctantly, she began to climb the stairs, and texted back. Not tonight. Sorry. I need some time alone.
That sounded like she was rejecting Gianna. Quickly, she typed a follow-up text. We’ll talk soon, k?
The pause was longer this time, long enough for her to put away her phone, unlock her door, and put her things down. Then the phone buzzed again.
Sure you’re OK?
Yes, I’m sure, Megan texted back. Doing a lot better. Thank you. I mean it.
Let me know if you need anything.
Megan smiled. I will.
Then she wriggled uncomfortably out of the dress while trying to keep her shoulder immobilized and tossed it in a wrinkled heap on the floor of her closet. Who needed dresses when there was derby?
Chapter 12
On Monday, during her lunch break, Megan texted Gianna the whole story of her encounter with Cari the night before. Looking back on it, she found it kind of funny, especially her dramatic exit.
But she was proud of herself. She’d made a choice this time—the right choice. When she’d hit Cari back, that hadn’t been making a conscious choice. It was just that her girlfriend instinct—her submission instinct—had finally lost out to the new roller-derby instinct. Cari had been the one to do the leaving.
This time she’d done the leaving, and it felt good.
It was nice to hear that Gianna was proud of her, too.
Megan wanted to tell everyone at roller derby the next night, especially Shelly, but stopped before she could say anything. She’d forgotten that Gianna was the only one she’d told the truth about Cari to. If she was going to explain how she’d stood up for herself to anyone else, she would have to give the backstory first.
Being unable to play derby was bad enough. She’d face up to telling that story another time, when she was stronger.
She kept up the texting with Gianna over the next two days, just light banter for the most part, nothing else serious. Gianna hinted that she wanted an apology, but Megan wouldn’t let herself think about it. She wasn’t going to apologize for things that weren’t her fault. She wouldn’t ask for forgiveness.
And then, on Thursday morning, she got in to work to find a flood.
Something had broken in the lobby bathrooms. Karen and Joe were standing over the puddles, screaming about whose fault it was. Megan found the mop, cleaned up the spill, and turned off the water under each of the sinks and toilets, all of which seemed to be overflowing—clean water, thank all the gods.
“Call a fucking plumber!” Karen was screaming at Joe, her face red.
“I’ll call the plumber,” Megan said. “Do we have a plumber?”
“Do I look like I know any plumbers?” Joe shouted toward Karen, but he might as well have been talking to Megan.
“Google it is, then,” Megan said, and sat down behind her desk.
The first two plumbers she called couldn’t get anyone out that day (but at least Joe and Karen moved to their office and lowered the volume of their argument). The third could, but not until evening, and it would cost double. While Megan argued with the plumber, holding the phone uncomfortably to her face with her right shoulder, she frantically tried to look through the books to see whether they had the extra money to cover it. She did not see a budget item for repairs—but she didn’t keep the books, so she could be missing anything.
She was still on the phone when the front door opened and she looked up automatically.
Black hair. Curves. A red, red smile. Gianna was there.
Megan stared, her heart suddenly beating double-time and her face draining of all its blood. What was Gianna doing here? She couldn’t deal with her. Not this, not on top of everything else.
Then two little boys walked in holding hands, and Megan bit back a curse. How could she have forgotten? This was the day of Gianna’s class field trip.
“I’ll call
you back,” she told the plumber, and flung the phone back onto its cradle. More little kids in pairs, and several adults, were following Gianna in. Joe and Karen had stopped shouting, but the door to their office was still open.
She had to act normal. She had to pretend Gianna was just another customer. She had to make sure they didn’t all demand their money back for showing up on this perfectly shitty day.
“Hi,” Gianna said, smiling at her—not one of her saucy or belligerent smiles, but a perky one with an edge of sweetness. “I made a reservation a while back. It should be under Gianna Esposito.”
She was being normal, too. That made it easier for Megan to be normal right back.
“I remember you, of course,” she said. “No need to look it up. First of all, I’m sorry to have to tell you that our lobby restrooms are out of order.” She raised her voice to make sure all the chaperones, who were trying to get the kids to quiet down, could hear her. “There’s another—just a moment.”
She took a deep breath, composed herself, and then dashed into the office, closing the door behind her. Joe was sitting behind his desk; Karen was standing over it, hands on her hips. She turned her face, still red, to Megan. “Get back out there,” she snapped.
“Did anyone check the bathrooms in the back?” she asked desperately. “We have a class full of kindergarteners here and if none of the restrooms are working, they might have to leave.”
“I went this morning,” Joe said. “They’re working fine. No flooding.”
“Great,” Megan said, giving him a relieved smile. At least one of them thought of these things.
The smile he gave her back made her skin crawl. As she turned away, Karen was already hissing angrily at him. This time Megan shut the office door behind her.
“I was just checking on things,” she said. “There’s another set of restrooms in the back of the trampoline park—you’ll see the signs when you get inside.”
“Can I take Parker and Shelby there right now?” asked a black man who looked young except for the gray in his temples, pointing to two little girls, holding hands and poking at each other. “I think they need it quickly.”
“Yes, of course.” Megan hurried out from behind the desk and opened a drawer on the side of the room. Pulling out the socks was awkward with one arm, but she’d learned to do it. “We just ask that you wear our trampoline socks before entering the room. Here are two in kids’ sizes, and one for adults.” She handed them over, avoiding Gianna’s eyes. “You can put them on over regular socks if you want, or take your socks off first—we do wash these. Make sure you take your shoes off, though.”
The man squatted down with the little girls and then began helping them with their shoes and socks. Megan straightened her back and took a deep breath. Her spiel was all out of whack, but that wasn’t Gianna’s fault—or even the fault of the plumbing. She should have expected it from the moment she booked a party of kindergarteners.
She tried to count, but the little kids kept moving around, and then Parker and Shelby disappeared with their chaperone, and she lost track. “Forty-one including the kids, right?” she muttered to Gianna. It was a relief to be able to look at her, to put on her customer-service smile and keep everything normal.
“Forty-two of us today, actually,” Gianna said with a grimace. “Thirty kids, eleven parents, and me. You can just charge the same card I gave you, right?”
“Absolutely. Help me hand out the socks?”
Between the two of them, they got enough pairs of socks handed out for each parent and each kid. One of the kids threw the socks on the floor and started screaming that he didn’t want to wear them. Gianna immediately squatted down in front of him and started making soothing noises. Megan stared in mild astonishment. Gianna really looked and sounded like a kindergarten teacher—clearly still the same person as on the roller-derby track, but with a whole new attitude.
This must be how Gianna had felt seeing Megan here the first time.
A little girl walked up to Megan, holding her trampoline socks. She still had little purple anklets on, but no shoes. “Miss, will you help me?”
Megan stared at her, totally at a loss. She did not deal with kids—their parents did that when they came to the trampoline park. But this girl was so cute, with her pigtails and her lisping politeness.
“Okay.” Megan took the socks and squatted down. The little girl promptly sat on the floor, her feet straight out in front of her.
“Did you want to leave your regular socks on?” Megan asked. The little girl just stared at her silently. Megan didn't want to pull her socks off without permission, so she lifted the girl's foot and started to tug the trampoline sock on over it. It was slow going with just one hand, and the child wasn't helping.
“Bella! You didn't need to ask the nice lady for help. I'll do that.” Gianna came striding over, squatted down, and pulled the trampoline sock out of Megan's unresisting hand. “Sorry about that,” she said over her shoulder, obviously to Megan but without using her name. “Don't you have things you should be doing? Come on, sweetie, it'll be easier with your socks off.” The last was to the kid. It was amazing how seamlessly she switched.
Megan heard a click behind her as she stood up, and she turned, but nothing had changed. Joe or Karen must have opened the door and decided not to face the chaos of thirty kindergarteners.
She stood still, disoriented for a moment, then remembered what Gianna had said. Things she should be doing, right.
“Anyone who's got their trampoline socks on?” she called over the general noise. Several heads popped up and a few kids' hands raised. “Okay. Get your shoes and socks and put them on the shelves.” She pointed to rows of wooden shelves under the drawer. “Make sure you keep your stuff together and keep track of where you left them so it's easy to find them again.”
The room devolved back into chaos, but the chaperones seemed to be doing okay showing the kids what to do. Megan retreated back behind the desk to catch her breath. She was supposed to be doing some salesy talk now too, but screw it. The kids didn't care and the parents couldn't listen.
When she saw the two little girls return from the bathroom with their chaperone, she made sure they knew what to do with their shoes. Then Gianna popped up again in front of her desk.
“They're almost done. I assume you have some kind of safety lecture.”
Megan nodded, looking at all the kids with some dismay. “Are they going to listen?”
Gianna smiled again. “They will. I'll calm them down.”
She really loved the kids, Megan realized. She had to, to organize a trip like this for them. It was strange to see, and sweet.
A few moments later, Gianna clapped her hands twice, and the room got significantly quieter, with most of the kids turning toward her. “Everybody find your buddies and line up,” she called. “Miss Megan is going to tell you all how to stay safe and not hurt yourselves inside.”
Miss Megan? It sounded so gentle and respectful. Megan liked it.
She was astonished at how quickly the kids lined themselves up, holding hands with their partners. The parents spaced themselves out at intervals behind the line.
Megan cleared her throat and went through her safety list, telling them to keep their socks on, to avoid the edges of the trampolines when jumping, and to be careful of everyone else. She told the parents where the weight limits on the smaller trampolines were listed and how to find the black-light room. She figured the kids could find out about the other themed rooms themselves—it might be more fun as a surprise.
“Miss Megan,” one of the little boys shouted.
She almost blushed hearing the name coming out of the kids. It was so cute, but so strange. “Yes, did you have a question?”
“Did you break your arm falling off of a tram-poh-line?”
Gianna, at the back of the line, covered her face with her hand; Megan could tell she was trying not to laugh. Megan was having a hard time keeping a straight face herself. She c
ouldn’t explain to these kids about roller derby, but she didn’t want to lie and tell them she’d fallen off a trampoline, either. And explaining that her arm wasn’t broken was just too complicated.
“No, I didn’t. I fell down when I was roller skating. But that just shows that you should be careful, okay? You can hurt yourself even when it seems safe.”
The little boy nodded, his eyes wide. His buddy shook their joined hands, and he finally said, “Okay.”
“Any other questions?” She didn’t give them time to think. “Okay, that’s everything, so have fun!” She opened the door. They ran inside, screams giving voice to their joy. Even the parents looked excited as they followed the kids in.
Only Gianna lingered.
“Go on, have fun in there with them,” Megan said, sitting down at her desk with a thump. She smiled weakly, knowing she was going to have to get back on the phone with the plumbers. “You have to chaperone your group, and I have to find someone to come fix the bathrooms.”
“Do you have to do everything around here?”
Megan shrugged—one shoulder. She’d mostly gotten used to keeping the left one still.
“What about those people?” Gianna asked, lifting her arm to gesture at Joe and Karen’s closed door. “What do they do?”
“They’re the owners. You really do have to go chaperone your group. It’s a rule.”
Gianna frowned at her. “Are you really okay?”
“I am, I promise. But thanks for asking.”
“Okay.” Gianna nodded. “I have a match Saturday night, but I’ll come to the Monstrous match if mine ends early enough, all right? I know you’re going to be miserable sitting there watching again.”
“You don’t have to do that.” Megan smiled again, this time with more strength behind it. She wanted Gianna to come, even if everyone else would think it was strange that another player had shown up. She could live with that. She could live with a lot, if it meant Gianna was with her.
Crash Into You Page 12