Love and Skate

by Lila Felix

  Love and Skate

  Lila Felix

  Copyright @Lila Felix 2012

  This publication is protected under the US Copyright Act of 1976 and all other applicable international, federal, state and local laws, and all rights are reserved, including resale rights: you are not allowed to give or sell this book to anyone else.

  Any trademarks, service marks, product names or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if we use one of these terms.

  To my husband, from whom all of my male characters stem.

  To my friends, who never fail to amaze me with their support.

  Shelly C., Mandy A., Amanda C., Annie H., Melinda S. and Rachel H.

  I am so tired - so tired.

  I see too many people,

  Read too many books.

  Do too many things.

  I hate the theaters,

  I hate my work,

  I want you, - only you….

  Come to me between the cool sheets

  And let me burrow my head in your shoulder….

  ~Pauline Cohn, “Rest”

  1. Nellie

  I never wanted to leave this icy heaven. I sat in the tub, filled to the brim with chunks upon chunks of ice, until I could feel the aspirins take effect. As I could feel my head start to get cloudy and the pain subside; I lifted my body out of the tub. I sat up first and waited to get my bearings. Then I pushed up with my hands bracing the sides and made one last ditch effort to get out without my face and the cold tile floor having an intimate collision. I flicked the drain plug out and got a towel. The numbness the ice so graciously afforded me now dwindled.

  Still in my towel, I walked on the balls of my feet into my bedroom. I knew that if I even tried to walk on my whole foot the results would be excruciating. I grabbed some shorts and a tank top and underwear and sat on the edge of the bed. It took me a good ten minutes to pull it all on. I pulled back the cover and crawled into my heaven of a bed and tried unsuccessfully to find a position that gave me some comfort. Finally finding an awkward position that lulled me, I fell into a deep healing sleep.

  My phone was playing Cherry Bomb and I swiped the green button to answer it without even looking to see who it was.

  “Nellie Michelle, it’s your mother.” The voice said.

  “Hello, mother.” I groaned as I turned over and my bruises and sore muscles protested against it.

  “It’s almost ten o’clock. Please tell me you are not sleeping still.”

  “Yes, I was sleeping. I got in late.” It’s not like she paid my bills.

  “Ugh, from that barbaric skating—thing you do, I assume.”

  “It’s called Roller Derby and did you want something?”

  By this time I had made it to the small kitchen and held the phone against my shoulder as I started the small coffee pot and the smell alone perked my brain up.

  She rattled off something about going to a baby shower later that day for Cassandra, a girl that used to call herself my friend. But that was when I was the Nellie they wanted me to be. Cassandra knew me when I was the stooge, the model of exterior perfection, the daughter of their dreams—the puppet. That was also the period of time that Corey dumped me for Cassandra claiming that I was too nice for a guy like him. Now they were married and having another baby.

  I just let her run through her paces as I fixed myself a cup of strong coffee with cream and took out the makings of a recovery breakfast. My first swig of coffee chased two more aspirins, making sure the soreness was kept at bay.

  “Are you listening to me Nellie? Are you coming to Cassandra’s shower or not?”

  “No, Mom, I’m not. I have studying to do today and I have to work the evening shift at the bookstore.”

  “I guess I’ll have to make your regular excuses. I’ll put both of our names on the gift.”

  “OK, Mom, you do that.”

  “Nellie, when are you going to straighten up?”

  “Never Mom, never.” With that lovely departing message I hung up and started making breakfast for myself and Amber, my roommate, my teammate and my bestie.

  The table was stacked with food when Amber entered the kitchen with groans and stomps. If I didn’t know better, I would think a zombie was in our apartment. I held both hands out, one with aspirins and one with coffee.

  “Holy crap I could kiss you Hellie.” I found it funny how everyone called me Hellie. My Derby name was Hellie Nellie, but everyone called me that on a regular basis now.

  She choked down the aspirin and coffee and nearly broke the chair plopping down in it.

  “Eat; I know you have to go to work at noon—lazy.” I goaded her.

  “Lazy? I wasn’t lazy last night when I saved your skinny ass from that Amazon woman blocker.”

  I laughed and the jostling motion caused my lower back to hurt on the left side. I hissed through my teeth and lifted my tank top to look, but couldn’t see all the way in the back.

  “Look and see if I’m bruised.” I walked around the table and showed Amber my back.

  “Damn that is one wicked purple and black mess. Looks like the bottom of a pair of skates.”

  “Yeah well, we still wiped the rink with them.”

  “So true. I’ll clean up. Then I have to go to work. See you later?”

  “Yeah, I’m hitting the library to study and then I have work too.”

  “Ok, see ya.”

  “Yup.”

  I went into my bedroom and picked out a pair of worn out jeans and a purple tank top with the words “Derby Girl” bleached out on the front. I bent over in the closet to get some flip flops and my new battle wound reared her ugly head.

  I took a hot shower and got dressed and went to fix my hair. This month it was blue. Like a blue raspberry frozen Slushie threw up on me and I loved it. Thankfully I worked at a local indie bookstore and there weren’t many rules about hair color and dress codes. I threw it up in a messy, sloppy bun, grabbed my bag and went to study.

  2. Owen

  I had been up since the break of dawn and not by choice, but force. I swore that if Dylan’s snoring didn’t stop or at least let up the coroner would be finding pillow down in his throat. ‘Cause I was gonna smother him.

  I scrubbed my face with my hands and decided not to even try to sleep any more. I needed to either get another roommate or move to another dorm. This endless no sleeping crap really chafed my ass. But then again, Dylan was my best friend since grade school…rock and a hard place.

  I pulled on some cargo shorts and a long sleeve white shirt and picked up a pair of socks and some shoes, grabbed my backpack and headed out. I needed coffee and I needed it quick.

  I walked to the student parking lot and got into my old Ford Bronco and headed out to the local dive to get breakfast.

  After heaps of strong black coffee and a huge stack of pancakes, I headed to the library to study and found a table buried behind the law books that were dusty and rarely used. The table had etchings of people who were here or who loved each other. I chuckled to myself because it wasn’t so long ago that I would’ve been one of those carvers.

  I can remember sitting in the back of my high school library with Amy hanging on my left arm while my right hand so stupidly cut our names into the wood of the table with a pocket knife. Her phone went off while I finished the ‘y’ in her name and she turned abruptly from her place on my arm and feigned some best friend emergency. Funny thing was Amy didn’t have a best friend, but I had two and one of them she was screwing behind my back.

  Shortly after I found out I went down a dark and dirty path and it went on for nearly a year. My girl that I thought I loved was with my best friend Lucas. I got tattoo
s, and lots of them. I loved my tattoos but most of them were just for the shock factor they gave my parents and my ex-friends. I came home late when I came in at all. I let my grades fall so far that I almost didn’t graduate and got into college by the skin of my teeth. I partied hard until one day I was driving and as I lit my cigarette I wrapped the front of my truck around an oak the size of the highway. I came out only with cuts and bruises and a new resolve. I needed self control. I needed discipline. I needed to change. And that’s what I did. But for some things it was too late. My parents were divorcing now. They said they had been having trouble but I knew better. The stress of dealing with my crap was eating them alive. I knew no man who loved someone as much as my dad loved my mom but he packed his bags and left—because of me.

  Now I stayed on the straight and narrow and I mostly wore long sleeves to hide my tattoos. Everyone, and especially girls, judged the hell out of people for their ink. And the last thing I needed was judgment.

  I shook my head of thoughts of the past and got my Biology book out. Last semester’s Biology class had been a breeze, but Biology 212 was kicking my ass. But, I guess if I was going to be a marine biologist I had to have it and this was just the beginning. I set up my notebook and book next to each other and dug in.

  3. Nellie

  I never ever sat at the tables at the library. They were uncomfortable and sticky. It disturbed me to think about it. So I found a spot in the quiet zone, as I called it. It was way in the back corner of the library near some really big law books. I walked from aisle to aisle picking out my spot. There was a guy with black hair and a long sleeve shirt sitting at the back table so I kept going towards the corner of the room until I found a row that was out of sight of anyone. I dumped my bag on the floor and plopped myself next to it. I pulled out my latest read for American Literature and let myself be sucked in.

  I looked at my watch and saw that I only had minutes before I had to get to work. I packed up my stuff and got up clumsily as I was still sore and my legs had fallen asleep as I sat for so long.

  I walked out and made my way to Cindi’s Indie, the bookstore that I worked at. Cindi seems like a good wholesome name. At first I thought maybe she would have a perfect dress on with a perfect chignon and perfect heels. But that’s when I really learned my lesson about judging a book by its cover, or its name. Cindi was about four feet eight and had black spiky hair. She always, always wore a black tank top and jeans. But her jewelry, including her piercings and makeup and shoes changed and shocked on a daily basis. She was the sweetest woman I had ever known and was almost like a second mother to me. Or a nice first mother.

  I stuffed my bag under the cash register and went to the back and retrieved the returns cart. Cindi waved frantically at me while she made face and pointed to whoever was on the phone. I laughed at her antics and then went to put up the returns. Cindi had several tables and couches set up and people frequently came and read entire books and left them all over the place.

  I finished shelving all of the books and went to man the cash register. Leah had left for the day and I was the only one in the front left. This was the boring part. I dusted off the counter and the special signed books on the shelf behind the register. Then I sat on the stool. It made sense for me to read at a bookstore but the last time I did I was so engrossed in the book that I ignored a customer all together and she called and complained. Cindi picked on me about it for weeks.

  My phone buzzed in my back pocket and I pulled it out to see what it was.

  Amber: Guess what hot Mama has a date Friday night?

  Me: yay! Who is the guy?

  Amber: He just walked into the skating rink with his little brother. Came to rent shoes.

  Me: Nice. I want to hear more tonight.

  Cindi emerged from her office looking like someone had stolen her dog.

  “What’s the matter Cindi?” She pulled up a stool next to me.

  “Ugh—there’s just so much suit talk I can put up with. They drive me nuts.”

  “Suit talk?” I half laughed half asked her.

  “Yeah, you know. Inventory and percentages and import and export and sales charts.”

  “Ahhh, gotcha.”

  “How was your bout last night?”

  “You would know. You were sitting right outside the rink. Plus everyone could hear you screaming.”

  She let out a great huff. “I never was a discreet one. So, there’s only one more hour to go. Get out of here, you skated hard last night.”

  “I need the money Cindi. Why don’t you go home? I’ll close up.”

  “Why don’t you go home and I will still pay you.” She softened her face. “Seriously Nell, go home and I’ll pay you like you stayed.”

  I opened my mouth to argue some more but she beat me to the punch.

  “Say one more word and I’ll fire you. How ya like that?”

  I gave her a big dramatic eye roll and went to get my bag. I hugged Cindi before I left and got into my ragged Honda Civic and went home.

  4. Owen

  Dylan had kept me up half of the night talking about the girl he asked out the day before. How she looked, what she said. He was going to take her to some frat party he was invited to on Friday night. He had been trying to get me to go for weeks. I hated frat parties or parties of any sort. Probably because my drinking days were way over—and I didn’t dance. And how a man brings his little brat brother to go skating and came out with a date was beyond me.

  After Biology I had to practically run to American Lit. It was all the way across campus so in order to make it I had to haul ass. It was a stadium class where you felt like you should be watching a baseball game instead of listening to a lecture. There were so many people in the class that I never sat in the same place and never saw the same people.

  I unpacked my book and my notebook and prepared for the most boring lecture ever. The book wasn’t boring and I did read from time to time. But the professor spoke in a monotone voice and it sounded like he was as uninterested as the rest of us were. A girl snuck into the door at the last minute and looked for a seat before she climbed the stairs.

  I had never seen her before and I couldn’t for the life of me comprehend why. She was drop dead gorgeous with the most perfect pair of legs not to mention she had hair the color of a smurf’s ass. She spotted a seat on the other side of the aisle from me and pulled out her book. She had a black short skirt on and a white tank top and black flip flops. Her blue hair was braided down her back and as she got comfortable in her seat she pulled the braid over her shoulder and played with the edges of it.

  The monotone teacher continued to drone on and on about Steinbeck. I tried not to look at her—I swear I did. I blamed it on the teacher that I couldn’t take my eyes off of her while she couldn’t take her eyes off of him. His droll voice was keeping her attention, that’s for sure. Maybe she just liked Steinbeck.

  My fellow students packed up their belongings around me but it wasn’t until one of them shoved past me that I really noticed class was over. I sat there like a tool watching her gather her things and get ready to go. I held my breath as her hips swayed side to side while she stepped down the stairs leading to the door.

  I came to a quick revelation. I like black skirts—a lot. I think I like blue hair too.

  I realized that I didn’t know anything about her and wanted to badly. I grabbed my stuff and headed to the door looking up and down the hallway but came up short. She was gone. I had missed my opportunity.

  A little bummed, I headed to the Union to meet up with Dylan for lunch and to possibly clobber him for not letting me sleep. I got my tray, picked out my lunch, paid and walked out to find our regular table. He was already there with a huge cup of coffee. I didn’t know why in the hell he was tired, I was the one he was keeping up all night.

  I sat down and groaned.

  Dylan looked up from his books and said, “What up man? You look beat.”

  I glared at him. “Because you keep m
e up all night snoring like a damned bear.”

  “Come on, it can’t be that bad. The girls don’t complain.”

  I rolled my eyes at him and dug into my burger and fries.

  “So, Friday night, you’re still coming right?” He looked excited.

  “I hate those frat parties. You know that.” I flicked a fry at him.

  “Yeah, but who’s gonna make sure I get home ok? You wouldn’t want something bad to happen to your best friend would you?”

  I squinted my eyes and looked to the side like I was thinking about it.

  “Come on dude, if for nothing else, you gotta see my hot date.”

  “Ugh, fine. But this is the last one. All I do is stand there and watch you make an ass of yourself and then bring you home so you can puke all morning.”

  “Who knows? Maybe you’ll meet a chick at this thing. You know, go on an actual date?”

  “Oh shut up and eat.” I said as he laughed at me.

  Finished with my classes for the day, I snuck back to the dorms to take a nap. I flopped into the bed and by the time I woke up it was almost nine at night. Dylan was at his desk studying. He had his iPod blaring. I could hear the music even with his earbuds in. I pulled my pillow over my head and went back to sleep. But before I did, I remembered the blue haired beauty.

  5. Nellie

  After American Lit I ran to the sandwich shop on my way to work and grabbed a salad. I went straight into the back and sat at the small table set up for employees. Cindi joined me. She was eating some weird looking Thai food that made me question her sanity.

  We ate in silence. It seemed like she was distracted by something, but I didn’t push it.

  I worked my whole shift this time and helped Cindi close the shop. I went back home and Amber had made dinner and was waiting for me at the table.

  “Thanks. I’m starved.” I slumped down into the chair and munched while she started to talk.

  “OK, so I want to tell you about Dylan.”

  I nodded instead of talking because my mouth was full of chicken.