by Megan Sparks
Tyler took a step back so their height difference wasn’t so evident. “Ah, c’mon. It’s just a bunch of girls in fishnets knocking each other down.”
Annie bit back a retort. Roller derby was so much more than girls in fishnets. Tyler should know that, he’d been to their bouts – well, one of them. But she didn’t want to get into an argument with him. She didn’t want to become like her parents. “It still requires a lot of training. Try skating a couple of jams in a row and you’ll be tired.”
“But it’s not like it’s in the Olympics,” he smirked.
She could let the previous comment slide, but not this one. “Actually, Liz was telling us that it’s being considered for the 2020 Olympics. If it gets approved, I’ll be doing everything I can to get on that team.”
As soon as Liz had mentioned it, Annie knew that was her ultimate goal. The only question in Annie’s mind (and she was glad she didn’t have to decide yet) was whether she’d compete for the UK or the US team.
Tyler rolled his eyes. “2020 is still ages away, and as you said, it hasn’t been approved.”
“Yet,” Annie pointed out.
Tyler finally seemed to realize he wasn’t going to win the argument so he changed the subject. “It’s a shame you gave up cheerleading. That would have kept you fit, probably even more than roller skating. Maybe if you talked to Kelsey—”
Annie shook her head. There hadn’t been a single moment she had regretted her choice. “No. I love roller derby. I’m not giving it up. Just like you wouldn’t give up soccer. Right?”
“I guess.” Tyler plopped down next to his bag.
Annie ran a hand down his chilly cheek. “Good. ’Cause we’re not done here. Do you know what fartleks are?”
“The little farts that slip out when you’re exercising?”
Annie laughed. “No, silly. They’re—”
Tyler rolled his eyes. “Course I know what they are. Coach makes us do them. During summer training.”
It wasn’t really that cold, not as long as you kept moving. “Right, so let’s sprint to the eighth mile marker, walk to the next, then sprint again, and so on, all the way around the track. Bet I can beat you.”
He pushed himself back up to standing and gave her a cocky grin. “Yeah, right. And what do I get when I win?”
Hmm, finally some good motivation. She should have thought of challenging him earlier. “We stop training and you have the satisfaction of knowing you’re fitter than me.”
“I am fitter than you,” he said in an exasperated tone as if it were a fact everyone knew.
Annie grinned. She had got him now. “Then prove it. On your marks.”
They jogged over to the starting line on the track and crouched down behind it.
“Get set.”
Tyler turned to look at her, his green eyes shining as he winked at her, his smile turning up slowly in a way that normally made her heart stop. Annie smiled back sweetly. She knew what he was doing, and usually it would have worked. But today her competitive streak had kicked in and she wasn’t going to get easily distracted.
“Go!”
They took off at a sprint, white puffs coming out of their mouths as their warm breath hit the cold air. Tyler was thirty centimetres in front of Annie. She closed the gap to fifteen just as they switched to walking. They walked side by side but when they got to the next marker, Annie took the lead with her sprint. When she switched back to walking, Tyler wasn’t at her side. She could hear him behind her, but she didn’t turn around to see how close he was. If his footsteps got nearer, she’d up her speed. By the last sprint, she couldn’t even hear him behind her any more. Dropping to a walk for the last portion, she finally checked to see how far behind he was. Pretty far. He wasn’t even bothering to run.
His grumpy scowl was visible even from a distance as he kicked the dirt under his feet.
Annie reached a hand out to him. She didn’t have the heart to rub in her victory. “You all right?”
Tyler rammed his hands into his coat pockets, shaking off her hand. “No. I’m cold and this sucks. Can we just go to my place and warm up there?”
Annie checked the time on her phone. “I was planning to train for another half an hour.”
“Well, I’m leaving. So if you want a ride, it’s now or never.”
Annie kissed him on his flushed cheek. The fartlek had energized her instead of making her tired. “I’ll run home. Catch you later.”
He let out a grumble and didn’t return the kiss, just shuffled away to his red sports car.
True to her word, Annie ran another lap around the track and then jogged towards her house. Her house. She couldn’t remember when she started to think of it as hers instead of her grandparents’. Sure they had lived in Florida as long as Annie could remember, but they’d kept the Illinois house as a holiday rental until Dad and Annie moved in. Now there was no doubt that it was home. Her home.
But then there was still the flat in London. Her flat. The one she had grown up in and had lived in her whole life. She didn’t – couldn’t – think of it as just Mum’s flat now, even though her mother was the only one living there.
Mum. She’d be here soon. Since Mum became a partner at the law firm, she hadn’t taken a holiday without her Blackberry. Annie doubted that crossing an ocean would make a difference to Mum’s work addiction.
And then there was the question of her and Dad. Together again. In the same house.
I hope they both behave. So many things could happen. Mum could be kind and sympathetic, but she could also be very critical – especially of Dad. As soon as Dad decided to move back to Illinois, and Annie chose to go with him, the tension between her parents had been so awkward. Mum and Dad had made such an effort not to shout or complain about the other that the air in the flat had been almost stifling. Not that having them argue was any better. Now, several months later, maybe they’d had the time they needed to cool off and appreciate each other.
Maybe if Annie could get them to spend some time alone together... She could get her friends to help her come up with a plan. Lexie was always good for creative solutions! Something that involved locking her parents up (ideally without their phones) until they realized they couldn’t live without each other.
Annie sighed. It was an entertaining idea that would only work in a cheesy romantic comedy. Still, if there was something that would get them back together...
She passed houses with their Thanksgiving decorations and brown, gold, and red leaves scattered across the lawns. The people of Liberty Heights loved to have an excuse to decorate their homes. The decorations weren’t as elaborate and plentiful as they had been for Halloween, but still pumpkins and squashes of various colours and shapes were on display on the front porches, a couple of scarecrows and pilgrims adorned the gardens, and one house had a large inflatable turkey that bobbed its head in the breeze as she jogged by.
There was nothing like this in London. Other than Christmas decorations, and an occasional garden gnome, people didn’t normally dress up their houses in England.
Not that London wasn’t already beautiful, with its old-fashioned streets and posh terraced houses. Their flat was right on a leafy, green square, not far from a tube station that would take her anywhere she wanted to go in the city. She missed that, definitely.
As she drew to a stop outside her house, Annie suddenly felt unsure where she belonged. Both Liberty Heights and London were “home”. But she couldn’t be in two places at the same time. Annie shivered, suddenly aware of the cold Tyler had complained about.
Chapter Nine
The school bell rang at midday on Tuesday, leading to an even louder than normal stampede of students rushing to get out. And that was with a lot of kids already gone for the holidays. Kelsey had mentioned last week (several times, very loudly) that her parents were taking her to the Bahamas for Thanksgiving. Good riddance, as far as Annie was concerned.
As she pushed and shoved her way towards the school do
or, she wondered why the district had bothered with classes at all. The day and a half of school this week had been pointless. She knew she wasn’t the only one who hadn’t taken in anything the teachers had said.
Besides, she had far more pressing things to do than school. Mum was arriving today. In fact, she’d be landing in Chicago really soon and would take the two-hour shuttle bus to Liberty Heights. Which meant Annie had a lot of work to do before then. The last thing she wanted was for Mum to start criticizing the house as soon as she walked in. And with good reason; the house was a tip.
One of the first rooms Mum would see when she walked in would be the kitchen. Better start there. Although really, when Annie saw the state it was in, she wondered whether they should have taken up Grandma and Gramps’ offer to go on a cruise with them for Thanksgiving instead. It would certainly have been easier than sorting out this huge mess.
Dad had made Mum’s favourite orange-cranberry muffins before leaving that morning to open up at Rosie Lee’s. The muffins were the perfect combination of tangy and sweet, but Dad clearly hadn’t had time to clear up the chaos he’d caused.
The sink was piled high with breakfast dishes, measuring cups, a mixing bowl, beaters, spatulas, and the muffin tin. There were also halved oranges crusting on the counter and a bag of dried cranberries spilling onto the floor. The only thing Dad seemed to have cleaned was his favourite, and highly expensive, chef’s knife.
Great, Dad, thanks for the help.
Not that it was exactly his fault. He mentioned at breakfast that he had thirty-six specially ordered pies to bake: pumpkin, pecan, apple, and one chocolate-pear pie for an old dear who begged him to make it just like her great-nana had in the seventeen hundreds or something.
Well, no point staring at the mess. It wasn’t going to improve unless she cracked on. She changed into some scruffy clothes (she’d been wearing a nice jumper and a short skirt over tights, which had made Tyler whistle at the sight of her long legs!). Then she turned on Aerosmith’s “Dude (Looks Like a Lady)” because it reminded her of when Robin Williams was cleaning in drag while pretending to be Mrs Doubtfire.
She got the dishes loaded into the dishwasher, wiped down the counters, and tested one of Dad’s muffins. It was fabulous. But even with her efforts, the kitchen still looked anything but fabulous: it was old-fashioned and worn, and the decor hadn’t been changed since the 1980s, she guessed. At least Dad had removed the lace curtains that were in the windows when they first moved in. And it was clean now.
She shoved the tea towels into the wash and went to gather any clothes she could find on the floor. There were loads from both hers and Dad’s rooms. It was so much easier to throw things on the floor than put them back where they belonged. Especially now that Annie was taking more time to look nice in the mornings.
Clothes stuffed into the wash, she looked at the clock. There was at least an hour before Mum arrived. Maybe more if her flight was late or the immigration queue was long.
Annie swept, mopped and vacuumed the whole house before tackling the bathroom Mum would share with her. Dad’s bathroom would have to be left to fester – neither she nor Mum would dare venture there.
The room Mum would be staying in had been Dad’s while he was growing up. Grandma always told the story of attacking the room with six coats of paint to cover the black walls when she and Gramps decided to move to Florida fifteen years ago and turn the house into a rental. Now it was yellow, flowery, and looked like a “grandma” room. Oh well, Mum would no doubt think it was an improvement over the heavy metal posters that had offended her on her last visit here.
Annie changed the sheets, set out some fresh towels, and arranged a small bouquet she had bought yesterday after roller derby practice. She knew Mum would appreciate it. Mum always said flowers brightened up any room.
Now it was time to deal with her own room. Groan. Mum would not respect her privacy and stay out. Almost every time they Skyped, Mum mentioned the state of the room. And that was looking at it through a webcam. In person, she might have a whole lot more to say about its tidiness. Or lack thereof.
After making her bed, organizing her desk seemed to be the next logical step. She found the essay she had written on The Taming of the Shrew the day she and Tyler should have been studying. The grade was still the same as it had been when Ms Schwartz returned it to her: C+ with a sad face.
“Not your best effort,” the English teacher had written. Annie shoved it in the bottom of a drawer. No way was she going to leave that around for Mum to spot. Especially since the essay before that one got an A.
Tyler hadn’t told her his mark for his essay but he was still on the soccer team so he must have scraped by.
Going through the papers strewn across the desk, Annie noticed a black smudge on her finger. She slumped into her chair as she pulled out what had caused it: a charcoal caricature of herself in full derby gear. Two long brown pigtails trailed behind her, partially covering the derby number inked on her arm like a tattoo: “5’11”½”, a reference to her height. On the cartoon Annie’s shirt was the Sex Pistols’ “God Save the Queen”. The Annie on the paper had a look about her that said she could conquer the world. Lexie had given it to her shortly after her first bout.
Annie smoothed out one of the corners. She wished she was feeling as confident as her cartoon alter ego looked; maybe the cartoon Annie could tell the real Annie how to win over the artist who had drawn it. She couldn’t remember the last time she and Lexie had said anything more than a “hi” in passing. Annie knew she’d let herself get distracted by Tyler, but she didn’t think she should take all the blame. Lexie was being overly sensitive. Still, it was strange not walking to school with her any more. Annie got a pin and stuck the brilliant drawing on the wall. She really should ring Lexie. But the last few times she’d tried, it had gone to voicemail, and Lexie hadn’t returned her calls.
Ding-dong!
The doorbell. Mum! Annie shovelled the rest of the things from her desk into a drawer and raced to open the door.
There was Mum. Philippa Bradley was wearing smart brown boots under wide-leg tan trousers, with a salmon-coloured silk blouse open at the collar showing a string of pearls, all under a knee-length white wool coat. Her shoulder-length brown hair was perfectly styled with the ends curled up. Mum looked as if she had just strolled in from a posh meeting in Chicago instead of off a long ride on an aeroplane.
“Annie, sweetheart.”
“Mum!” Annie rushed into her mother’s arms.
Mum held Annie for a second before extending her arms and peering through her glasses to have a good look at her. “Are you still growing?”
Annie shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
Mum set down her bags just inside as Annie closed the door. “Well, you certainly look grown-up. It’s great to see you.”
Annie grinned. “You too. Here, I’ll take your bags to your room.”
“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” Mum put her coat in the cupboard by the door and followed Annie with her leather computer case. “Although, if that’s the state of your pyjamas, we’d better go shopping while I’m here.”
Annie cursed herself for not remembering to tidy herself up before Mum arrived. She dumped the bags and quickly changed out of the smelly gear and into the clothes she had worn to school.
She met Mum in the hallway and led her to the kitchen. What they needed was to get back on the right footing and food always worked.
“Dad made you some muffins.”
“Ah, I really shouldn’t. I’ve been eating gluten-free since you left.” Mum placed her hands on her hips. Now that she mentioned it, Mum did look a bit trimmer. Not that she needed to lose weight. Annie, after all, had got her lean shape from her. There was no way she was going gluten-free unless some doctor forced her to, kicking and screaming.
Annie picked up the plate and held them close to Mum so she could get a whiff of their tangy, sweet smell. “They’re cranberry-orange.”
“Are they?” Mum’s eyes lit up for a second before they went back to their stern look as she gave in. “Better put the kettle on, then. I brought my own tea and an extra box for you too. Last time I was here the tea your grandmother served me was best thrown down the drain.”
Typical Mum – if she gave in to one thing, she found another thing to criticize. Annie took the box of tea Mum retrieved from her room. It was in posh, triangular sachets that showed the loose leaves inside. Much nicer than anything they drank at home when Annie had lived there.
“You can get good tea here now.” Annie poured the water into mugs and handed one to Mum along with a spoon and a dessert plate for a saucer, and got the milk from the fridge. “Dad keeps a box of Yorkshire Gold here but serves Twinings at the café.”
Mum poured a drop of milk into her tea and reached for a muffin. “And how is that going? The business, I mean.”
“Great!” Annie said a bit too enthusiastically. Last month Rosie Lee’s had been struggling, but it had certainly picked up recently. “With the holidays, people are getting Dad to make their pies. The café’s beginning to be a local hangout.”
Mum glanced around the kitchen. “Well, let’s hope he can put some money into doing up this house. It hasn’t changed since I was here in the nineties.”
Annie set her mug down hard, splashing some of the tea on the table. Couldn’t Mum at least appreciate that it was clean? That Annie had spent hours tidying up just for her? “Do you have to criticize everything?”
Mum’s eyes narrowed as she pushed her glasses up her nose. “Don’t you take that tone with me, Annie. But you’re right. I’m being rude. The state of this house is none of my business and I apologize.”
They were silent for a few minutes until Annie asked Mum about work and things in London. They finished their tea and muffins – Mum even helped herself to another muffin, saying there was no point in trying to keep to a diet while she was here. Not with Dad’s gorgeous cooking. At least there was one thing she couldn’t find fault in.