by April Ryder
"The lady doesn't drink wine," Adam said giving a more helpful response to the questioning look Jake had given me. "But I do. Thanks."
Adam stole my drink and I growled. Honest to God, I growled. I might not like wine but Jake had gone to the trouble of buying it for me. The least I could do was pretend to drink it.
"That's my drink! Yours have monkeys on them!"
As soon as I said it, I knew what Adam would do. He took the blasted plastic monkey and tried to balance it on the wine glass. By now he'd had a few of those crazy cocktails and his hands were less than steady, so the monkey fell in!
"Take your monkey out of my drink!" I demanded of my soon-to-be former bestie.
"I didn't mean to!" Adam wailed back as if I'd caused him physical harm.
I gasped in horror as he tried to fish the offending primate out with his fingers. Wine sloshed on the table but the monkey eluded capture.
A dark shadow fell across the table and we looked up. And for me, up some more. Rick towered over us, glare as surly as ever and asked, "What happened?"
I stabbed an accusatory finger at Adam and announced, "His monkey is drowning in my drink!"
"His what?"
"Monkey. M. O. N… How do you spell monkey?"
Rick fixed each of us in turn with his unreadable gaze. When he came back to me my breath quickened.
"He's scary big," I said not realising I hadn't used my inner monologue voice.
"He is," Adam agreed.
"He is standing right here," Rick reminded us.
Flaming Hayley red was a new shade of embarrassment that I'd just named after myself. It's the best way to describe the level of oh shit, I felt right then.
"I'm drunk," I blurted out in my defence.
"Pffft," Adam said like a deflating balloon. "She doesn't need to be drunk to say stuff like that."
Jake—who I can't believe I'd completely forgotten about—chuckled.
"She's cute when she's drunk," he said.
My head whipped around so fast to make sure I had heard that right that I almost spun off my chair. Number 7 thought I was cute. I frowned when I thought about it some more. He thought I was cute when drunk.
"And amusing," he added.
"Please continue," I told him as my heart swelled. He thought I was cute and amusing. "That was out loud again, wasn't it?"
All three men nodded.
"She was just saying why she joined the roller derby team," Jake said to Rick. They exchanged a look that I couldn't decipher. Perhaps it had something to do with the fight they had had last week. The one that might or might not have been over me.
"Well," I started suddenly feeling self-conscious as they watched me intently. Waiting for what, I don't know. I took solace in the fact that we all knew I was drunk and spilled the awful truth.
"Adam signed me up the other week during the game. We were there for girl power, alcohol, and to ogle hot men because my fiancé dumped me for a job and a blonde stick insect."
Both of them blinked but Jake was the first to react. "You have a fiancé?"
"Had," I corrected him.
"A stick insect?" Rick asked with dark eyebrows furrowed. Why was he more interested in that part of what I'd said?
"That's how Adam described her."
Adam waved for their attention before he cleared up the confusion. "Blonde woman. Very skinny."
Rick snorted, clearly not impressed with Paul's choice of bugs. Just as I was starting to think he wasn't so bad after all, he opened his mouth.
"Your ex-fiancé has bad taste in women."
Adam and I competed to see who could inhale the most oxygen from the crowded bar. We used our eyebrows to communicate in a kind of Morse code. My waggling brows asked, Did he just?
Yes he did, his telegraphed back.
Then I caught Jake smiling. It looked smug, but what do I know, I'm drunk. He noticed I was staring at him and wiped whatever that look was off his face before he took my hand and looked deep into my eyes. What he said next was what Rick should have said.
"Your ex-fiancé is an idiot. He should have stuck to his first choice, but if he'd done that I never would have met you, Princess."
Now this man knew how to treat a woman, I thought as I fanned my hand at my blushing face. Why aren't we naked yet, I wondered. Oh, yeah. We're in public. The things I want to do to him—and have him do to me—could not be done in front of others. I didn't want to get arrested. That would be bad. I'd probably lose the apartment while I was in prison, and then have to live with my mother. Oh God. Now that would be a fate worse than death.
I shook away the thoughts of my evil mother and wondered why Jake was frowning at me. "What?" I asked, suddenly worried he was telepathic and had intercepted my thoughts about my evil mother.
"I just asked if you wanted a ride home," he said.
D'oh! I'd just shook my head. What was I thinking? Oh yeah. Fate worse than death. Evil mother. Yadda yadda.
"Yes, yes!" I said and jumped to my feet, knocking my chair over in my exuberance. I had no shame. I wanted him to take me home and ride me. I know that's not what he said. Not exactly, but I'm choosing to take it that way.
Adam looked up at me with puppy dog eyes and I remembered we were going to share a taxi home. Shit and blast. "I—"
"Don't worry, I think I see a ride of my own," he said with a silly grin on his face. He was just as drunk as me. I followed his gaze and recognised the referee from last week's derby by the bar.
"Go Adam!" I said and we bumped fists to celebrate our mutual success. However, we missed. I managed to knock over the drink he'd stolen from me. I was secretly happy about that. Okay, not so secretly. I think I gave it away when I punched the air—narrowly avoiding Jake's chin—in victory. He either didn't notice or had wisely chosen to ignore my embarrassing behaviour. Just one of the many things I would regret about tonight come morning.
Jake helped me walk—read that to mean stumble—back to the sports centre where he'd parked his car. A very nice car. Not that I know anything about cars, but it looked new and shiny in the fading daylight. Everyone had a car in Auckland except me. It was such a sprawling city and public transport was a nightmare. Learning to drive had gone on the back burner along with my studies while I was with Paul. Getting my licence would be something I'd have to think about now that the fool was gone. Not that I knew if I could afford to give up my job and study, get a car, and learn to drive. Maybe I could go part-time.
"Hello?" Jake said, waving his hand to gain my attention. "Thought I'd lost you there."
I blinked back to the here and now. He held the passenger door open, waiting for me to get in.
I smiled up at him and said, "I'm a doofus. You'll get used to it."
His smile faltered. Should I have said that? I really was a doofus but that's not something you should admit to anyone. Was he having second thoughts about taking me home for a ride? Noooo! Had I ruined any opportunity I had to be with such a hot man? Mental facepalm. Mental facepalm. Mental facepalm!
I racked my alcohol-scrambled brain for something to say that would get me out of the ditzy hole I was fast digging myself into but I had nothing. I was going to die a virgin, I lamented. Wait no, that's not right. I gave my virginity to Paul. I'd wrapped it in lacy lingerie that had little bows on it and he'd carefully removed the wrapping like he was going to rewrap another present later. Perhaps he had. I hoped Jake was the kind of guy who liked to rip open his presents, eager to enjoy the bounty within. That was exactly what I needed to help me get over Paul.
I was so caught up in my muddled thoughts I hadn't realised Rick had tracked us down and was in the middle of confronting my ride—Jake.
"You've been drinking," that was Rick.
"I can drive," Jake told him. "I've only had a few beers."
Rick's response was to glare sternly at his teammate, the look so intense that I had to take a step back to avoid getting singed.
"Give me back my keys. It'll be fine."
Whoa, I had no idea Rick was that serious about Jake not driving after a few drinks. Granted they had lowered the legal limit for driving, but still. He seemed fine. Well, my opinion was slightly influenced by alcohol, so I wasn't in a position to defend him. My brain decided to be helpful and hauled out the information Kilty had shared about Rick losing his brother in a car crash. Had they been drinking? Was that why he was being so strict now?
I was about to—unwillingly—agree with Rick, but before I could, Jake lunged for his keys. Rick easily knocked him aside and tossed the keys across the parking lot. They landed somewhere in the bushes near the road.
While Jake was busy picking himself up from the asphalt, Rick strode toward me, grasped my hand and said, "I'll take you home."
"Bah?" I managed, still shocked at what had happened. But that was nothing compared to how I felt when he led me to his motorbike.
"I've never ridden a bike before," I said, eager yet horrified at the same time.
"Just hold on and lean when I lean." He stopped, and it was like he knew me well when he added, "In the same direction I lean."
And that was the last thing he said to me. I told him my address so he knew where to go and accepted the helmet he handed me. I struggled with the strap so he helped me with that. He did it without saying a word. I watched him put his own helmet on and straddle the bike between his powerful legs. I was so engrossed in the show that it took me a moment to remember I had to climb on behind him. I was afraid I'd tip us over but those above-mentioned legs of his kept the bike upright and perfectly balanced.
"Where do I put my feet?" I yelled so he could hear me through both of our helmets. I thought I saw him wince but he didn't say anything, instead he reached back and took hold of my right foot. I let him guide it to the pedal and managed to find the other on my own.
He glanced over his shoulder at me through the visor of his helmet and waited. I gave him the double thumbs-up, Fonzie-style, and he took that as his cue to get going. The engine started and I held onto him for dear life as we roared past Jake, who cursed at us while still looking for his keys.
Rick was a solid wall of muscle under his leather jacket. I'm not sure but I think my fingers might have done some exploring while we zipped through Selby. What I was sure of was the vibrator on wheels that we both straddled. Maybe Rick's muscles kept him insulated from the sensations coming from his bike, but they were doing a number on me. It was a good thing we were going so fast and wearing helmets, otherwise Rick would know how aroused I was getting from this ride with him.
We were still several minutes from my apartment so I closed my eyes and enjoyed myself. Shawn would be working overtime when I got home!
For once, my fantasy was faceless. It wasn't about him, it was about me and how I felt as each deep-seated gyration rocked me a little closer to heaven. But of course before that happened, the bike stopped.
I growled my sexual frustration and took a moment to recover before I struggled to get off the oversized adult toy. Rick didn't help or say anything—asshole—so I shoved my helmet at him and staggered away. I fumbled with my keys but managed to get the front door to the building open. I heard his bike roar to life again as I stepped over the threshold. The sound made my insides melt and I couldn't help it, I moaned. Hopefully this effect would be temporary. The last thing I needed was to wet my undies every time I heard a motorbike. That'd make me some kinky version of Pavlov's dog. What I did need was sweet, sweet release.
"I'm coming Shawn," I murmured as I uncomfortably made my sodden way to the stairs. "Brace yourself!"
* * *
The next morning, after praying to the porcelain god way too many times, I heard the toot from Adam's horn and quickly shoved my feet into my shoes. Either he was early or I was late. The latter was more probable. I was suffering the mother of all headaches after all. I grumbled as I grabbed my bag, slung it over my shoulder, and wrenched the door to my apartment open. I didn't need to look to know I had stepped in something on the welcome mat I had insisted on putting on my doorstep. Something gross was on the bottom of my shoe and I didn't really want to know what it was.
I sighed and pulled up my figurative big girl panties and looked down. I think I was the one who screamed. Somebody's dog's poop was on my shoe! Wait, was that a piece of corn? And a carrot!? It slowly dawned on me that it wasn't dog's poop on my shoe. No, it was human poop!
Adam tooted several times, obviously impatient and probably about to leave without me. He wouldn't but he would. He doesn't joke about his precious traffic window. The poor guy has to commute to the other side of Auckland. Why he doesn't rent closer to work is lost on me. What isn't lost on me is the smell wafting from my poor shoe. My poor, new shoe. New was a relative term. It would be more accurate to say that they were six months old, making them my youngest shoes.
"Well shit. Literally."
"What is taking you so long?" Adam demanded from up the corridor. He marched toward me and pulled up abruptly when he saw the predicament I was in.
I waggled my soiled shoe in his direction and whimpered pathetically. He jumped back, afraid I would use it to assault him with.
"Is that poo?"
I nodded forlornly.
"On your shoe?"
"Poo shoe," I confirmed. "I have poo shoe."
"Who did that?" he asked, eyes glued on my shoe, just in case.
"I don't know," I replied and started wobbling. I couldn't put my foot down, not unless I wanted to spread it around. Sharing would not be caring in this case.
Adam eased me against the wall so I wouldn't fall over and rushed into my apartment. He came back out with a pair of cute sandals that I had forgotten I owned—they were about two years old—and ordered me to change my footwear. I dropped them on the floor and stepped into them. Once that had been settled, we locked up and he rolled my stinky mat up and dumped it in one of the rubbish bins on our way out to his car.
"Get in," he said as he rushed around to the driver's side. "Come on, we can still make it."
"Pancakes?" I asked, ever hopeful.
"Sorry sweetie," he told me with a shake of his head, "But shit happens."
* * *
Friday night arrived way too fast. Adam had to push me into the team's changing room. He pried my fingers one a time from the doorway as second, third, fourth, and fifth thoughts wracked me. One of the other newbies sat sullenly on a bench, half-dressed in her costume. She looked like she would puke and I knew if she did I would be right behind her, face-first in a loo. The other newbie didn't seem bothered at all. She happily chatted with anyone near her, grinning all the while. But the closer I got the more I saw the cracks in her facade. Of the three of us, she would be the first to blow chunks. We were all doomed.
Hello Kilty took pity on us—or rather saw easy targets. I swear I saw her rub her hands together in glee, channelling her inner Mr. Burns.
"Skid Marks!" she called, singling me out from the small herd. She unzipped her bag and handed me various articles of clothing. "It's your costume. Put it on."
I looked down at the girl on the bench who still sat frozen, in the middle of putting on her fishnet stockings. Rather her than me. She had the right shape for them. I think I remembered her being christened Ms. Skellington at practice. A Halloweeny pseudonym, but still preferable to my unfortunate nickname. Damn the dick…
I drew in a deep breath before I unfolded my costume. How bad could it be?
"Oh my God," I murmured as I held up the uber-short, pleated skirt. My knickers covered more of me than the skirt ever would. Then it got worse. The white shirt they wanted me to wear had…well, it looked like a car had run over it. Black tyre tracks adorned the front and back. What was worse was how shear the material looked under lighting.
I looked at Kilty, gobsmacked. "You told me to wear red underwear."
She nodded. "Yeah, it'll totally go with the skirt."
I could tell that Kilty didn't understand what I was trying to te
ll her. "And a red bra."
"Oh," she said but it still took a moment for that to sink in. "Ohhh."
"I'm wearing a red bra too," the chirpy newbie added.
Kilty placed her hands on my shoulders, looked me in the eye and tried to reassure me. "The tyre marks will hide most of it. Don't worry. You'll look hot. Just trust me, okay?"
What choice did I have? Besides, the only person I knew who would see me was my bestie. He wouldn't make fun of me. Well, he would, but he wouldn't mean it. And if he did, I'd find a way to get my revenge. Or he would buy me pancakes and I'd forget my grudge.
I nodded reluctantly and Kilty smiled, obviously relieved. She left me to deal with Chirpy. I moved away to get changed, because if that girl did blow I didn't want to be in the line of fire. Seeing other people's bodily fluids sometimes made me puke. So if she started there would be no stopping me. I could almost see the puke going back and forth like a tennis match. Even thinking about it made me gag.
Dressed, with skates and safety equipment on, we lined up. Ms. Skellington had unfrozen, Chirpy—while still looking a bit green—had stopped flapping around. Pretty Vicious stood before us and I waited for the expected tirade. But she said nothing, and didn't call us names or liken us to maggots, genitals, or anything like that. Instead—and now this did surprise me—she hugged each of us in turn.
When she reached me, she murmured in my ear, "If we don't win I'll blame you."
My eyes bugged out of my head. The newbies looked just as shocked and I wondered if we had all received the same pep talk.
Pretty clapped her hands together and ordered our sorry fat arses out. I turned and followed the line as it snaked through the door and into the raucous noise of the stadium. I hesitated but had no chance to back out now as the girl behind me jabbed me in the kidney, forcing me to skate out into the bright lights of the derby.
The crowd cheered and the sound was deafening. I thought I caught glimpses of faces as we did warm-up laps around the rink but after a while became a blur. The fear I had initially felt melted away with each crossover of my outer leg. One face did jump out at me though, and I just about tripped over my stopper in surprise. Jake sat front and centre with perhaps half the hockey team around him. So much for Adam being the only one I knew to see my make a fool of myself.