by Elicia Hyder
“All right, Lucy.” Now he sounded mournful. “I love you, honey.”
It broke my bitter heart. “Dad, are you OK?”
“Yes, I’m all right. It’s just a tough day, and I miss you,” he said.
“I miss you too. I’ll come home soon, I promise. I love you.”
“I love you, Lucy. Bye, kids.”
Ethan was quietly singing the lyrics to Cats in the Cradle when I ended the call. I backhanded him across the chest. “Oh, shut up, Ethan.”
He cackled as I pulled into the parking lot. “What are we doing here?” he asked, looking up at the store.
“Buying a gift to cheer up Medusa,” I said as I parked the car.
His head tilted to the side. “Kind of ironic given the day, isn’t it?”
I’d thought the same thing while driving.
Obviously, Olivia had too, because her first question when she met us at the entrance was, “Are you sure you want to do this tonight?”
I nodded. “Absolutely.”
“What do you buy someone to make them feel better, anyway?” Ethan asked, as the doors to the department store slid open.
Movies had been my thing right after Mom died. To be quite honest, I’m pretty sure I was personally responsible for any success Magic Mike XXL had at the box office. Her death coincided with the movie’s addition to our local discount theater’s lineup. So every Monday night for the six weeks it played, I caught the nine o’clock showing like I belonged to some weird one-woman Channing Tatum (or, really, Joe Manganiello) cult.
Yum.
I didn’t even care about the plot. But it had been two hours of mind-numbing eye candy, an ab-infused salve to the soul. Cinematic therapy for a few dollars a ticket. Because grief is weird like that. Sometimes comfort is so elusive that it seems to be found in only the most unlikely of places.
I might watch it again before bed.
“I was thinking about getting her movies and booze,” I announced.
“I was just thinking about booze,” Olivia said with a laugh.
We stopped at the card section first. Ethan picked up one with bright red hearts all over it and turned it toward Olivia. “Maybe you can get this for Styx.” He made kissy noises.
She looked around, then snatched the card out of his hand and put it back. “Knock it off.”
“What’s up with you? Why are you being all secretive?” I asked.
“She’s an All-Star member and our coach.” She pulled me down the aisle toward the sympathy cards. “I don’t want people to think I’m sleeping my way onto the team.”
My mouth dropped open. “You’re sleeping with her?”
“Details, please,” Ethan said, closing his eyes and folding his hands in prayer.
Olivia punched his arm. Hard. “That’s not what I meant. We’re just talking.”
“You really think people would assume that? You’re so good,” I said.
She picked up a card with the words “THIS SUCKS” scrawled across the front. “I don’t want to chance it. Neither does she.”
“Then you two really need to work on your covert skills. It’s so obvious,” Ethan said.
“Really?” she asked, grimacing.
“Yes,” he and I answered in harmony.
We moved on to the movie section next. Olivia picked out The Birdcage. Ethan picked out Superbad. I picked out Magic Mike XXL because who knows? Maybe Hollywood added subliminal messages of comfort and healing to the baseline of that Nine Inch Nails scene. I almost fanned my face just thinking about it.
With my luck, Medusa was a lesbian.
We added a few bars of expensive chocolate to the cart along with a bottle of wine and a case of beer Styx had suggested. I found a pretty teal wicker basket on the home-goods aisle, and I picked up a twenty-five-dollar movie-theater gift card on our way to the check-out line.
“How are we going to get it to her?” I asked Olivia as we unloaded the cart.
She pulled out the case of beer. “Styx said she can give it to her before they leave for Indianapolis.”
I reached for the “THIS SUCKS” sympathy card that had been hidden under the case. “Maybe we shouldn’t sign our names, so she doesn’t think we’re brownnosing.”
Olivia nodded. “That’s a good idea.”
Ethan shook his head and looked at me. “Or maybe not. God knows, you’re going to need all the help you can get!”
Nine
“I think I see bone.” At practice on Saturday, the day of the playoffs, I stuck my bare foot in Olivia’s face. “Do you see bone?”
She shoved my foot away. “Gross, Lucy!”
It had been a month since we started Fresh Meat, and while I hadn’t yet died from a concussion or a broken neck, I was fairly sure gangrene was growing on my ankles. Foot funk. What a ridiculous way to die.
“Have you girls found any magical cures for blisters?” I asked Grace and Monica as we put on our gear.
“Nope,” Grace said with a frown.
Monica shook her head. “I wish.”
“What’s the problem?” Zoey asked as she dropped her heavy gym bag on the ground beside me.
Frowning, I pointed to my bare feet. “Blisters.”
She laughed and waved her hand. “That’s nothing.” She sat down and yanked off her shoe and sock. “Try missing toenails.”
Her big toe was missing its nail. I leaned back away from her. “Eww!”
Grace looked over. “What the hell, Zoey?”
“It’s all good. It doesn’t hurt anymore,” she said.
I eyed her suspiciously. “You’re terribly chipper for a girl with mangled feet. What’s up?”
Her smile widened. “It’s been a really, really good week.”
“Care to share?” I asked, covering a blister with a bandage.
Zoey pulled on a knee pad. “I got the results of my latest PET scan yesterday.”
My breath caught in my chest. My mother had a PET scan after her initial biopsy surgery to see if her cancer had spread. It hadn’t been good news.
“The doctors say there’s less than a five percent chance the cancer will come back now.”
Olivia clapped her hands.
“Congratulations!” Grace cheered.
“Yes, congratulations,” Monica said, squeezing her shoulder.
I smiled. “That’s excellent news, Zoey. I couldn’t be happier.” And I was truly happy for her. At least some people were able to beat that heinous disease.
Zoey blushed. “Thanks, guys. That means a lot to me.”
Olivia discretely squeezed my hand.
I smiled gratefully and stuck my foot in my right skate, wincing quietly from the pain of my torn skin. I’d never dare whine to Zoey about it again.
Full Metal Jackie, one of the All-Star skaters, rolled up in front of our group. “Listen up, ladies! With all your coaches being away at playoffs, today we’re running on a skeleton crew. If you haven’t heard, they won the bout this morning over Chicago, one eighty-six to one fifty-two.”
Our Fresh Meat gang erupted in applause.
“That means they’re playing Richmond this evening!” she yelled.
I leaned toward Zoey, who was standing beside me. “Isn’t Richmond the team we played at the last bout of the season?”
“Yep,” Zoey whispered. “It’s going to be a bloodbath.
“We’re going to try and keep today’s practice short for those who are planning to drive to Indianapolis,” she said. “So we will not be doing 27-in-5 trials this week!”
There was more thunderous applause, but for a different reason.
Jackie laughed. “But I suggest you do them on your own time, especially those of you who still haven’t reached twenty-seven laps!”
Especially me, in other words. The week before I’d clocked twenty-four laps. It was a significant improvement but still an eternity away from twenty-seven.
Jackie held up her hands to silence us. “We’ve got work to do in the short time we
have, so let’s get to it. In our sport, the jammers may get the spotlight and the stars on their helmets, but where the real action is—and what the fans really show up to see—happens in the pack. I’m talking about hits! Nasty, powerful, ball-busting hits!” She pounded her fist into her palm.
Our group pounded their skates against the floor and cheered.
Jackie’s voice boomed over the group. “And there’s no better skater to teach you the art of laying a bitch out, than our very own retired MVP Blocker and four-time season Whammy Award winner, Stone Cold Kelly!”
Olivia and I looked around the room as the cheers intensified. My eyes were searching for another She-Hulk on roller skates. Instead, they fell on a girl about Zoey’s size with not much more meat on her bones. Waving to the crowd, she skated up next to Jackie. The number on her jersey was 1-in-a-million.
Stone Cold Kelly held both hands up over her head, almost immediately silencing the room. “I know what you’re all thinking. What beanstalk did this giant climb down?”
We all laughed. A few ripples of snarky commentary fluttered through our group.
Kelly reached for Jackie’s arm and then motioned Grace forward from our group. Grace and Jackie flanked Kelly, the two of them looking like Samson and Goliath respectively next to the tiny MVP Blocker.
“I am living proof that size doesn’t always matter, at least not out here on the track.” Kelly smiled up at both of the tall girls. “Footwork, speed, and fearlessness are what make a blocker truly great.” She reached up and patted Grace and Jackie on their shoulders. “Thanks, girls.”
They rolled off to the side.
Kelly held up her index finger. “The first step to becoming a formidable blocker is to find your center. To knock someone off their skates, you must be balanced on yours. Can I get a volunteer?”
Olivia grabbed my elbow and pushed my arm up into the air. Before I could yank it back down, Kelly pointed right at me. “You, thank you! Come up here!”
Olivia snickered, and before I skated away, I elbowed her in the ribs.
“What’s your name?” Kelly asked when I reached her.
“Lucy,” I said, my voice squeaking.
“Hi, Lucy.” She mimicked my squeak and winked at me. “Turn this way.” She nudged my shoulder, and I turned so that my right side faced the crowd. “The correct skating stance is low and wide. Lucy, spread your feet apart and bend your knees.”
I spread. I bent.
Kelly pulled me back up a few inches. “You only need to bend your knees to about a forty-five-degree angle.” She put her hands on my waist. “Your head, arms, and torso should always be centered over your skates.”
My butt was sticking up in the air behind me, and I felt like I would face-plant any second.
Kelly continued talking to the group. “If the majority of your body weight is ever shifted out of line with your center, you will become unstable.” She smacked my protruding butt, and my body pitched forward, my face aimed at the concrete.
Two strong hands reached out and grabbed me. It was Full Metal Jackie. She smiled as she steadied me back on my wheels.
Kelly stepped over beside me and acted out what she was saying. “Don’t let your center move over your toe stops, behind your heels, or to either side.” She leaned side to side before turning her attention back to me. “Get centered again, Lucy. This time, keep your ass down.”
When I bent again, I was much more stable on my skates.
Kelly leaned toward my ear. “Stay just like that.”
She pushed me again from behind, but this time I rolled forward and didn’t fall. The swarm of other newbies clapped their padded hands together.
“Good job, Lucy!” someone yelled, probably Zoey.
I dragged my right skate sideways behind me, pulling off a decent T-stop. Then I turned and skated back to Kelly. She was smiling. “Good work.”
“Thanks for the heads-up that time,” I said.
Kelly looked back at the group. “The best thing you can do to improve your stance and your balance is to strengthen your core.” She pulled up her T-shirt, exposing a flat, toned stomach which she smacked her fist against. It didn’t budge. Someone whistled. It sounded like Olivia. “Crunches and leg lifts need to become your new best friends. Anything you can do to strengthen your core will help you on the track.”
Without being asked, I pulled up the front of my T-shirt and poked the smooth flesh above my belly button. The whole canvas quivered like gelatin. I laughed. So did everyone else. Jackie rolled up beside me and pulled her shirt up, letting a fat roll flop down over her waistband. She and I both burst out in giggles together.
I shook my head, pointing between her and Kelly. “I don’t want to get hit by either one of you.”
Jackie slapped me on the back.
Everyone was still laughing, including our teacher. Kelly held her hands up again to quiet us. “Mastering your footwork is equally important to maintaining a proper stance. After all, if you want to hit someone, you’re both going to be moving. You’ll need to be light on your feet to be able to line up and then execute a hit. That’s going to come with practice, practice, and more practice. Jackie, would you like to take Lucy out to the track and show off a couple of basic blocks?”
My eyes doubled in size, and everyone laughed again as I stumbled backward on my skates away from Jackie.
Kelly laughed. “Is that a no, Lucy?”
I shook my head. “That’s a hell no.”
“I’ll take her,” Grace said, raising her hand in the air.
Jackie’s smile was devilish. “You’re on.”
The two of them skated to the track with impressive speed. We all turned to watch.
“You’ll notice, that even though Jackie is our most sizable player, she’s got quick feet and deadly aim,” Kelly explained.
Grace skated a fast lap around the track, while Jackie skated slower, constantly watching over her shoulder. Grace moved like she was going to come around Jackie’s inside but then darted right to come just outside of Jackie’s right shoulder. Jackie sidestepped quickly on her wheels and plowed into Grace’s side with her right upper arm. Grace was knocked sideways out of bounds like a cartoon character being pummeled by a giant red fist on a spring.
Everyone cheered.
Jackie skated over and helped Grace up off the floor. Laughing, they both looped arms across the other’s neck.
“You’ll notice that Jackie hit Grace using the upper part of her arm. That’s a legal blocking zone.” Kelly gestured toward me. “Come here, Lucy.”
I hesitated and everyone snickered again.
“Come here, I’m not going to hit you,” she promised.
I skated back over to her.
Kelly made a karate-chop motion against the side of my shoulder with one hand and against the side of my thigh with the other. “You can use any part of your body from your shoulder to above your knee to hit another player. It’s called your legal blocking zone. You cannot use your elbows, forearms, or hands.” She pretended like she was elbowing me in the face, and I ducked to dodge it.
“You can use any part of your legal blocking zone to hit any part of your opponent’s legal target zone. The target zone is almost the same area on them, except you can hit all parts of the arm and hand, and you cannot hit the spine.” Kelly used my body again to demonstrate. “Any questions?”
I raised my hand.
“Lucy?”
“Not to be insulting, or anything, Kelly, but how do you hit people legally? You’re a lot smaller than a lot of those players like Jackie.”
She smiled. “That’s a good question.” She looked back at Jackie. “Can you come here for a second?”
Jackie nodded and skated forward.
“The main blocking technique I use is called a J-block,” Kelly said. She crouched down beside Jackie, then came up and over to bump her in the hip with her shoulder. “Now, come at me Jackie,” she said.
Jackie crouched, but couldn�
��t get low enough with her shoulder to hit Kelly with her upper arm. She turned and bumped her with her hip instead.
“See?” Kelly said. “I can hit her target zone, but she can’t reach mine very effectively, at least not legally.”
“That’s what makes her so good!” a girl I didn’t know shouted. “She puts everybody else in the penalty box!”
“Do you understand?” Kelly asked me.
I nodded.
She looked around at the group. “All right, I want everyone to pair up with someone of similar height. I want you to focus on maintaining a proper stance and your balance. I don’t want you slamming each other around out there just yet!” She grabbed my arm and pulled me close beside her. “I want you to do some light shoulder bumps and hip checks with your partner.” When she bumped me with her bony hip, I almost tumbled over.
“Any questions?” No one responded. “OK, find your partner!”
By the time I turned to look at Olivia, one of the B-team skaters had already pulled her onto the track. Grace teamed up with Full Metal Jackie, and Monica skated off with Zoey. I looked around, my shoulders sagging. The odd duck out.
“Come on, newbie,” Kelly said, skating up beside me. “You can practice on me.”
I was equal parts grateful and scared to death. My knees were quaking in my knee pads as we skated to the track.
“You take the outside, Lucy,” Kelly directed when we crossed over the tape.
I lined up on her right side. A trickle of sweat slipped down my jawline.
“Now, don’t let me knock you over,” she said.
Oh hell.
She came at me slowly and bumped her shoulder against mine. I teetered but dug my right skate into the floor and didn’t fall. “Good. Again.” That time, she bumped me with her hip. I nearly lost it. “Bend your knees more,” she said, grabbing my shoulder and pushing it down.
I bent just in time for her to hip check me again. I pressed on the inside wheels on my outer skate and bumped her back. “Nice!” she cheered. “Switch with me.”
She grabbed my shirt and pulled me to her left side, my arms flailing as I rolled. She pretended not to notice. “You come at me this time.”