by Casey Hagen
When you wanted to recreate the moment so much that you tried to niggle the person into the same fight again so you could give those digs life, even as you knew they’d never land with just the same oomph as if you’d said them from the beginning.
You know, manipulative girl shit.
We all did it.
We were fucking pros at it.
So now I reached that point I had to try not to recreate it, right? I mean, it shouldn’t be so hard since I’d never said a single nasty word about her parents and it’s not like I couldn’t have, but I didn’t.
You’re welcome, Tilly.
This was really a one-sided thing.
Going back to that place meant taking barbs—again—and with everything ahead of me and the way I lashed out the other night at Lana’s mother, I should probably avoid that. I’d just never wanted to hurt her the way she hurt me.
To do so meant turning her back into Tilly the Cyborg again or worse, Tilly the Wench.
So tentative pseudo friendship it was.
Without another word, we skated over to the bank and climbed up to join the rest of the team.
“Today we’re starting with boundaries. The kick rail and handrails on the track in Philly will have a bit more flex than the ones here,” Priest said as he curled his fingers around the padded rail and yanked, resulting in barely any give. “It’s designed to absorb some of the force when you hit. You’ll learn to appreciate that.”
“Bashing into the railing…looking forward to it,” Eve said with a spark in her eye I hadn’t seen in what felt like forever. The anger that gave her a barbed edge since our goodbye seemed to be softening.
I hoped it was…not for me, for her.
“Give and take,” he said, his lips twitching at the corners. “You’ll send others into the railing too.”
She smiled. “That’s the part I’m looking forward to.”
He laughed and started to skate backwards with us following him like a cluster of ducklings as he laid out the plan. “You need to get used to bumping into the kick rail,” he said, kicking it as he said it, “and not letting it slow you down. You’ll feel the drag on the edge of your skate. You’re going to get driven into it a lot. I don’t want it in your head when you do,” he said, his eyes on mine.
Gee, I wonder if he was thinking about me when he said that?
Blink. Blink. Blink.
Subtle, Coach, subtle.
“We’re going to do laps. Keep your skate along the edge at all times. The track is going to pull you down. If you stray, steer back.”
“Don’t make it obvious you’re looking, but girl, his shorts are doing that thing again,” Rory said behind me, followed by a hum of pure female appreciation.
My eyes went right to the front of his shorts and I rolled my lips inward with what I saw.
“There are two ways to fight the pull…” he started.
Could he maybe use different words? Slide, tug—ummm, never mind.
“Keep your right skate along the rail while you pump with your left. Or you can do reverse crossovers with your left foot to keep you propelled at the top of the track. You’ll master both. I want your feet to know exactly what to do by feel. Then we’re moving on to transitions and jumps.”
I sighed and bit my bottom lip, watching the red material move back and forth, back and forth.
“Mayhem!”
I shot up straight, lost my balance, and righted myself. “What? Damn!”
A wry smile curled over his lips. “You’re going to want some of that super cold ice you’re so fond of when we’re done.”
Was he talking about the jumps or the outline of his junk?
“He caught you staring,” Rory said, snorting out a giggle from behind me.
“Shut up.”
“I wonder if he’s a shower and a grower?” she said since she clearly didn’t know what shut up meant.
My skate dragged along the kick rail and I stumbled. “Oh. My. God. Would you stop?” I hissed over my shoulder.
“I think she already knows,” Marty said, squeezing in tight behind Rory.
“We haven’t done anything,” I mumbled.
I wanted to. I really fucking wanted to.
But he had those flaming asshole tendencies that made me want to choke him.
And that damn no kissing rule.
I wasn’t breaking it on principle. He wasn’t breaking it on honor.
One of us needed to end the misery.
I had a feeling if I was the one driven to cross the line first, I was going to suck his face clean off his skull.
And Rory would be asking why I’m not sucking the anaconda in his pants.
Well, I wanted that fucker too.
“Yeah, but you don’t have to do much more than kiss for him to grind that eager son of a bitch against you,” Rory said. “He looks like he’d be a total grinder.”
“We have a no kissing rule.”
“Girl, why?” Marty asked. “Get frustrated and pissed off out here on the track, then work that shit out on his dick off the track. Seems like a no-brainer.”
“Says the woman who has more energy than all of us off this track since she doesn’t stand for eight to ten hours a day before she gets here,” I said.
“Shit, I’d roll out of a casket to ride that fucking pole,” Marty said.
“Okay, I know you guys are fucking around, but I’m really going to need you to stop talking about wanting to hop on his dick or we aren’t going to be able to friends anymore. Like, because I’m going to put you in that casket.”
Rory held her hands up. “Ouch…okay. Can I just say, I’m gonna be hella happy when we stop this repetitious shit.”
“Same,” I agreed.
“Just keep watching his dick. It’s good for passing the time. Swings like a fucking pendulum in his shorts. You’ll be hypnotized.”
I stumbled again, lost my balance, and jammed my tit on the handrail. “Rory, dammit!” I bit out.
“You watch his dick. I didn’t say I was going to watch it,” she said.
We both knew she was totally going to watch it.
We spent almost an hour on the kick rail forwards and backwards when the pendulum decided to call for a water break.
“Did anyone else listen in when he was on his cell. He’s up to something,” Zara asked, making her way up to us.
“What did he say?” Marty asked.
“Something about getting them here by two o’clock,” Zara said.
“Did you hear who he was talking to?” I asked.
“Nope, but it won’t be long now,” Zara said, pointing at the clock over the barn door.
I stole glances of Priest in the infield, pulling apart pads, cones, and chunks of foam in all different shapes and sizes. A few minutes shy of two, he started glancing at the door every few seconds.
What the hell was he up to?
21
I’d just swallowed the last of my water and sucked down half a granola bar when I heard voices at the door.
“Maisy!” Rylee squealed the minute she saw me and ran for the edge of the track.
My chest squeezed painfully tight. Tears burned in my throat and filled my eyes. Adrenaline kicked through my veins until I swayed on my feet with the rush of it.
I’d missed them so damn much.
I’d had to give almost every minute of my time with them to do this…to protect my time with them in the future.
I skated up the track to the edge, yanked off my helmet, and dropped on my knees to reach for her. Pulling her up on the track, I swallowed her with my arms and breathed in the scent of strawberry shampoo that I hadn’t even realized I only associated with her.
“We haven’t seen you in so long,” she murmured against my chest, sending a wave of fresh tears down my face.
I hadn’t known I needed this. I needed them.
I needed to remind myself what I was here for, what was at stake if I couldn’t pull this off.
“I mi
ssed you too, honey,” I whispered against her hair with an extra squeeze. “So, so much.”
It wasn’t about having a favorite. I loved them all just the same.
But Rylee reminded me so much of me after my mom died.
Always hanging back. A little unsure. Not wanting to make waves out of fear.
She’s the one who needed the extra hugs, the constant encouragement, and the safety net while she grew braver.
And I needed to give them to her as much as she needed to receive them.
Addison, Ellie, Noah, and Leo all made it onto the track next with Priest’s help. One at a time he lifted them up until I squeezed my entire cluster in my arms again. Even Noah and Leo who were usually above hugs swooped onto the pile.
I gulped back tears in my throat and met Priest’s eyes.
Thank you.
I mouthed the words and he winked, leaving me blinking through a fresh round of tears before going to lift the other kids onto the track.
Wes walked over and propped a shoulder against the rail next to us. “It’s a good thing you’re doing here, Maisy. I’m proud of you.”
“Thank you,” I said, kissing the top of Addison and Ellie’s heads. “Someone had to save our afternoons at Rockabilly’s.”
“It’s more than that and you know it. I see it. But you’re right, I’m looking forward to hanging on to those trips too. If you make this happen, I’ll even get my very own pair of skates and humiliate myself out there. You think those skate buddies come in jumbo?”
I choked on a laugh and swiped away the tears on my cheeks. “I’ll have one made for you myself.”
Priest disappeared for a few minutes, but when he came back, he had Lilith on his arm. He settled her in a chair, helped unload the kids off the bank, and ordered us all back on the track and back to work.
He’d turned three sections into obstacle courses of sorts while we were visiting with the kids before he went to the house to get his sister.
He told us to line up for laps, and with each new lap, he’d call out what he wanted us to do.
Spin out transitions where we wouldn’t just veer left or right around the obstacle, but we’d spin away from it and skate on by. Then bean dips, pretending each barrier was an opponent ready to deliver a blow with their shoulder, where we dropped low on our way past with a twist to avoid the hit, giving the opponent our backs—an illegal target zone.
The kids watched with excited smiles on their faces, their rapt attention absorbing everything, but it was the jumps that had them on their feet cheering.
Running on our toes, transitioning to duck walks to push on our edges, and then shifting into a glide to gain speed, we’d skate low around the corners and freestyle jump the pads and cones along the straightaway before coming around again.
Over and over in a line, we’d just go with it, whatever we felt like doing, performing for the kids, teaching those boys exactly why skating was cool, and watching their eyes light up at our moves.
Tilly skated ahead of me, smiling at a cluster of kids she worked with, giving them a wink—the move distracting her just enough she miscalculated her speed when she jumped.
Her skate caught, she stumbled, but rolled, rolling to a stop across the track just past the padding in front of me.
Right in front of me. Too damn close.
If I jumped, I was never going to clear the padding and Tilly.
Her eyes widened and she froze.
If I went for it, for the whole leap and didn’t clear her, I was going to do damage, real damage. Broken bones kind of damage.
In front of a room full of kids.
Fuck.
I could hear my team yelling, Priest yelling, their hollers muffled and urgent.
Everything slowed, my blink impossibly long, the echo of my breath a jagged tear through my windpipe, the connection of her eyes and mine, the fraction of a second to make a decision and pray it was right.
Don’t move, Tilly.
I leaped, giving it everything I had, my thighs and calves flexing, my left foot digging in its edge, straightening my knee to launch me over the pads, and come down on my front wheels and toe stop in the narrow gap on the other side where I’d give one last push up on a double-toed hop and clear her.
If I didn’t time it just right, I’d hit her.
I had no idea how much space there was from this angle. Inches, maybe… but no more than a foot between the backside of the pad and Tilly’s body.
I focused on that gap. Willed myself to land in that gap.
My skate came down with a hard grind against the track. My wheel started to slip but stopped when my toe stop made solid contact with the Masonite.
At least I hoped it was the Masonite.
I couldn’t look. I didn’t want to know. If I looked and I was hurting her, I’d never clear the next jump over, the one right in line with her neck and shoulders.
Pushing one last time, I dragged in a heavy breath, and launched myself over her, swinging my arms, arching my back—anything to give myself more momentum.
Landing on the other side, I skidded and spun until I was aimed back at Tilly, my lungs heaving with the exertion it took to get over her.
She pushed herself up, stumbling to her feet, her face white and coated in sweat. Patting her hands up and down her chest, she grinned. “Fuck yeah.”
Her hand went up for a high five.
Relief surged through me leaving me light-headed.
Sweat poured down my face only to be soaked up by the strap buckled under my chin. A laugh burst free as I rolled toward her and slapped her palm. As naturally as I did the last time I high-fived her, I dropped my hand low to slap hers again on the underside, going in for a fist bump, and a finger lock followed by the hip bump we did as kids.
We both stared down at our hands, the tips of our fingers naturally interlaced the same way they had been so many years ago, a time when we were best friends, when we used to do this handshake a dozen times a day easy.
I couldn’t speak past the lump in my throat. Past missing her.
“Thanks, girl,” she said quietly. The words relieved and heavy at the same time.
Thanks, girl.
The same way she’d said it when we were kids, and I got her a new pair of pants on the first day we met when she got stuck in the bathroom with a surprise period that obliterated her khakis.
Our fingers slid apart and Tilly rolled back, her eyes narrowed in confusion. Her skin ashen.
Probably just like mine.
“Yes! That’s what I’m talking about,” Priest yelled, climbing onto the track. He grabbed my arms and spun me toward him, my team right behind him swallowing every free inch of track until Tilly disappeared in the cluster. “That is what you’re capable of. What I’ve been trying to get you to see.”
“Survival instincts,” I said, smiling.
“Exactly. That’s what you’re capable of when you’ve got total focus. I’m so damn proud of you,” he said breathlessly. He grinned down at me, his eyes narrowed, his gaze on my mouth. “Fuck the rules,” he mumbled right before he fisted the material of my tank top and dragged me under his mouth for a quick, hot kiss.
His hot taste filled me up, his tongue stealing a quick taste before he let me go, leaving me a panting mess on skates.
He let me go, his lips moving to my ear, making me tremble from head to toe. “Now get your sweet ass back out there and do it again.”
“Yes, sir.” I said the words with way too much enthusiasm judging by the way he dragged his thumb over his bottom lip and swept a hot glance over me.
“Sir, huh? I think I like that.”
“Go away, you’re making it hard to concentrate,” I said, giving him a shove that he only laughed off.
We worked for another hour, until the kids had to leave. I crouched down outside of the track and collected all the squeezes they’d give me. Only when they were loaded in the van, the last of their waves visible disappearing around the corner, di
d I head back for the infield.
“You guys did good today. Really damn good. Get out of here early tonight. Go celebrate,” Priest said before skating back to the bench with his gear.
I headed over and stopped in front of him. “We’ll probably stop in at Banked Track. Did you want to join us?”
“Mmmmm,” he hummed as he wrapped his hands around my hips and pulled me between his knees. “I’m going to stay with Lilith tonight. I’m not ready to leave her just yet.”
“You’re awfully handsy all of a sudden, you know,” I said, even though my hands had already gone to his shoulders.
With the way his shorts flirted with me earlier, I needed to do something with my hands. This seemed pretty innocent considering the fuck-me vibes swinging in his yum-yum zone.
Plus, there was Eve and I didn’t want to do anything so in her face that it caused her more pain. I’d take my cues from her where that was concerned…and we were getting there.
His head fell back, the skin over his Adam’s apple stretched taut. “Would you rather I break your rule again?”
I wanted to bite him there. Right. Fucking. There. “Not yet.”
“But soon?”
“We’ll see,” I said, skating out of his arms and heading for my duffel.
We packed up in under ten minutes and our cars rolled like a damn caravan right into town and filled the parking lot.
No one died…and we had some fucking celebrating to do.
Milton and Gerald sat at the end of the counter chatting it up with Patti.
“Boys, I hope you’re being good for Patti,” I called out.
“They’re beered up, happy as clams over here, both of them exposing their tender underbellies like good little dogs.”
“Damn, Patti! Way to lay a guy low,” Gerald grumbled.
I ducked over, wrapped an arm around each of their shoulders, and kissed both of them on the cheek. “I’m proud of you boys for getting along. Makes me much freer with my kisses.”
“Well, hell, Maisy Jane, if you’d told me that’s all it would take, I would have started behaving a long time ago,” Milton said, kissing my cheek and patting my back. “Keep being good for Patti over here. I’ve got to join my team. We’ve got some celebrating to do.”