Crash Into You

by Diana Morland

  Megan swallowed. She wondered if she should change her mind, take Gianna somewhere more appropriate for that dress. But she didn’t know where they could go that would be fancy enough for Gianna’s dress (the opera?) and yet where her own dress wouldn’t look out of place.

  “Uh, south. And west.”

  “Got it.” Gianna whipped the car out of the parking lot, her usual reckless driving style. If Megan hadn’t seen her playing with the little girl at the afterparty, she would never be able to believe that Gianna was a kindergarten teacher.

  “What do you usually wear to work?” she asked.

  “Oh, you’d never recognize me. I’m usually in jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt that covers everything, and I wear my hair up.”

  “I think I’d recognize you,” Megan said with a grin. “You’d have cleavage even in a turtleneck.”

  “Are you saying you recognize my cleavage, not my face?”

  “Face? You have a face?”

  Gianna snorted. “I suppose I should have seen that coming.”

  Megan directed her to a parking garage, then led the way to the Mütter Museum. Gianna gasped as they approached it. “Are we going to the Mütter? Oh, wow, I’ve always wanted to go there, but haven’t had the time.”

  “Really? You’ve never been?”

  Gianna clutched Megan’s arm. “I can’t justify this to the school board as an appropriate kindergarten field trip. I go to the Franklin Institute two or three times a year, but never here. Oh, I can’t wait!”

  Megan found an extra bounce in her step as she led the way into the museum. Clearly, changing their destination just to match Gianna’s dress would have been a mistake.

  “Oh my god, I love your dress,” the woman at the front desk said as she accepted Megan’s cash. She had dyed blue hair and stretched earlobes. Her eyes roamed up and down over Megan’s body.

  Megan blushed. “Thanks. I thought it suited the occasion.”

  The woman gave her a cute grin, her front teeth peeking out over her lower lip. Then Gianna reached out and grabbed Megan’s hand. The woman’s smile immediately faded.

  “Here you go,” she said, holding out the change and the tickets. “You two have a great time. Don’t miss the Soap Lady.”

  “The soap lady?” Gianna asked in an undertone. “Oh, and by the way, that is a nice dress.”

  “Thanks,” Megan said, rolling her eyes. “So kind of you to notice. And we’ll get to the Soap Lady. I want to take you around to everything in order.”

  Gianna gasped as they entered the main exhibit hall. “Is that really a wall of skulls?”

  Megan had been to the museum a few times before, so she enjoyed Gianna’s reactions at least as much, if not more, than the actual museum exhibits. And when Gianna laughed, her whole body jiggled in that slinky red dress.

  It was interesting that Megan was still attracted to her when they weren’t fighting. But she wasn’t going to complain.

  Gianna was entertained by the skulls, the primitive forceps, and the book bound in human skin, but a little more grossed out by the Soap Lady, whose corpse had turned into a waxy substance after death, and some of the things in jars. Megan loved it all, but she didn’t mind that Gianna wasn’t one hundred percent enthusiastic.

  Especially when Gianna pulled her into a bathroom, pressed her up against a wall, and started whispering in her ear while her hand roamed over Megan’s body. If a museum worker hadn’t walked in a moment later, she didn’t know how far that would have gone.

  Finally, though, they finished their tour of the museum, and strolled out into a cool evening. Megan shivered, wishing she hadn’t left her cardigan in the car. Gianna stretched her arms into the air and said, “I’m starving. Did you have a plan for dinner?”

  “I hadn’t thought about it,” Megan admitted. “The museum was as far as I got in planning.”

  Gianna grinned at her. “Well, it was a good plan. How about we go back to my place and order takeout? I think I’ve had enough of being out in public.”

  Megan’s heart leapt. “Yeah, that sounds great.” She’d wanted to see Gianna’s home, but had hesitated to push too hard for it.

  It turned out that Gianna lived in a tall, beautiful apartment building in West Philly, high enough to be worth taking the elevator to. Unfortunately, since it was surrounded by other tall buildings, she didn’t have a view to match the height, but the apartment was a lot nicer than Megan’s.

  “What do you like?” Gianna asked, pulling a stack of menus off the fridge. “I have Chinese, Indian, Thai, Ethiopian, and we could find something else online.”

  “Whatever you want,” Megan said, looking around. She was being nosy, but she didn’t really care. Anyway, she’d seen Gianna naked; what more could her apartment reveal?

  She walked over to the couch, which had a stack of parenting magazines on one of the cushions and faced a dark-wood coffee table and a large TV. “Your place is really nice.”

  “It’s too big for me,” she said. “But my parents insisted I get a good place. They paid the deposit for me. Here, pick something. I’ll order.” She handed Megan the Thai menu.

  Megan took it, but pointed at the parenting magazines before she looked at the menu. “What are those for, research?”

  “Hmm?” Gianna leaned over the back of the couch and laughed. “They usually have a lot of craft ideas, sometimes other things that I can use for the kids. And when I’m done with them, they’re great for collages. Let me get rid of those so we can use the couch.”

  “Are you sure they’re not for teasing your parents? My mom would be thrilled if she thought I was going to have kids.”

  “Nope. I love my parents, and taunting them that way would be cruel.” Gianna walked around Megan, giving her a jolt as their skin brushed together. But Gianna didn’t seem to notice; she bent over the arm of the couch and gathered up the magazines. Megan quickly turned to the menu and picked out something to eat.

  She looked around the apartment some more as Gianna placed the call. It had two bedrooms, one of which contained a bed; the other had a sewing machine and a number of bins stacked around.

  “You sew?” she asked once Gianna was off the phone.

  “Yeah, some. I put together outfits for derby. I used to sew my own clothes more, but there isn’t as much time now.” She walked over to the doorway of the sewing room, pressing her hip against Megan’s side. “You seem like you’d be crafty.”

  Megan laughed and shook her head. “They tried to teach me to knit and sew in middle school. They failed. The only things I’m good at are roller skating and selling people on the trampoline park.”

  “Oh,” Gianna said, “I think you’re good at a few more things.”

  And then they were kissing, Megan’s back pressed against the doorjamb, Gianna’s curves pressed to her front. Megan was warm again, but she couldn’t get her cardigan off; there was no room between their bodies for her hands. Instead she let her hand slide over Gianna’s back, the dip in for her waist, and then the flare of her hips and ass. The silky fabric of Gianna’s dress made it easy.

  Gianna’s hands were roaming over her body, too, sliding over her thighs, down to her knees, and then she was bunching up Megan’s dress and sliding her hands underneath. Megan had time for the hazy thought that Gianna’s enthusiasm was very sudden before those clever little hands had found her panties and dipped underneath them.

  She made a surprised cry into Gianna’s mouth, and that gave Gianna the opening to thrust her tongue inside, at the same moment as she pushed two fingers into Megan’s opening. Megan clutched Gianna’s ass with both hands, feeling as though she was falling, as though she needed Gianna to hold her up.

  Gianna’s fingers were inside her, and her tongue, and her free hand was squeezing Megan’s breasts, pressing them one at a time until her nipples stood up hard and sweat dripped down her spine. She was squirming, writhing against Gianna’s touch, wanting more.

  Gianna’s thumb found her clit,
and Megan pushed her hips forward, wanting more pressure, more touch. Gianna obliged, rubbing hard and fast until Megan was coming, pleasure exploding through every nerve, her body going rigid for a moment before every muscle seemed to melt and she really did have to hang on to Gianna to hold herself up.

  The phone rang. “Oh, damn,” Gianna said, detaching herself from Megan. “That will be the food. I really need it now.”

  Megan held onto the doorway until she could walk again.

  A week later, Monstrous Regiment was playing Rolling in the Streets again, and Megan could see the difference in Gianna’s playing. It wasn’t that she had any more or less energy—in fact, Megan couldn’t really define what it was. Gianna just seemed sharper, more jagged, somehow.

  She didn’t know whether being around the kindergarteners all day wore Gianna out or just gave her something to work off at roller derby. Maybe it was both—Megan could certainly empathize with that. Sometimes Joe and Karen felt like kindergarteners.

  She supposed she would find out, both about the kindergarteners and about Gianna, in just under two weeks when they all came to the trampoline park.

  The first several jams of the match, she and Gianna weren’t both on the track at the same time. Megan racked up the points; Monstrous Regiment was maintaining a slight lead, but it was still a lead, and she didn’t let it slip at all.

  But in her third jam, the last one before the halftime break, she and Gianna were both on the track. Gianna shot her a grin as she settled her helmet on her head. Megan grinned back, popping in her mouth guard to show she meant business. She was not going to let Gianna distract her this time.

  And she didn’t. All right, Gianna’s tits bouncing under her uniform might have distracted her a little bit, but she still made lead jammer and started passing again before Kiss With a Fist had made it all the way through.

  Rolling in the Streets seemed to be more energetic this time; maybe their last game against Monstrous Regiment had pumped them up, or maybe something else had happened in the weeks in between. They might have had more wins, but Monstrous Regiment hadn’t lost a game since the win that Rolling in the Streets had barely scraped up.

  Megan pushed and wiggled her way through the blockers, careful not to use her elbows, even when she was really, really tempted to. Britney Scares almost knocked her over, but Gayle got in Britney’s way and Megan spun past them both.

  She was past the blockers—four points to her team. But that was only four. Where was Gianna?

  Mountain Bruise seemed to come out of nowhere, flying at Megan and knocking her backward. Megan toppled over, laughing, both because of how ridiculous she felt and because she had, once again, been knocked over by Gianna’s delicious ass.

  She landed on her back, getting the wind knocked out of her, but she barely had time to react to that before something hit her shoulder even harder. She screamed, half in surprise, half in pain. For a moment she saw stars.

  A whistle blew and then there was a crowd around her. “I’m all right,” she gasped, reaching for Shelly’s hand to help herself up.

  But she couldn’t get up. Her shoulder screamed at her, and Gianna was leaning over her. “Oh shit, oh shit, I’m sorry! Did I break anything?”

  “What?” Megan didn’t understand what was going on. “My shoulder…”

  She couldn’t have her first roller-derby injury. It was too ridiculous. She hadn’t hurt herself by hitting the floor or the wall, or even by tripping over someone or something—someone had skated into her?

  “I’ll get her to the emergency room,” Shelly was saying. “That looks like it could be broken.”

  “No, I’ll take her.” Gianna’s voice was shaking. “Janine, would you get me my shoes? I’m the one that hit her, I should be out of the match anyway. And this way we’re down one person on each team. It’s still a fair game.”

  “No, no, we should end the game,” Shelly said. “Call it a draw.”

  “Don’t you fucking dare,” Megan said. She swallowed, trying to get up again, and this time—using her uninjured right arm—she pushed herself to a sitting position. “Call this jam but don’t call the game. Win it for me, Shelly.”

  Shelly crouched down next to her, her mouth drawn with concern. “Are you sure? It’s okay with you if Mountain Bruise drives you to the hospital?”

  Megan nodded quickly. Right now, there were only a few people she wanted around her. Shelly would be great, but Gianna was even better. And she really didn’t want the game to end. Her injury wasn’t the end of the world; they had to win another game and reclaim their record from Rolling in the Streets.

  Anyway, Gianna was already putting on her sneakers. She was right—it was more fair if both sides were down a single player.

  Gayle was behind Shelly. She touched her shoulder, and Shelly looked up, startled. “We’ll win for you, Megan. And I think she’s going to be okay, Shell. She’s been able to move the arm, so I don’t think it’s broken.”

  Megan nodded again. “Hurts like a bitch, though.”

  “Okay.” Shelly reached for Megan, hesitated, and patted her right arm gingerly. “Some of us will come and see you after the game.”

  “After you win,” Megan said, and managed a small smile.

  Tara ran out onto the track just behind Gianna; she was towering (like her namesake) over the other player, even in her sock feet. “Let me help you get out to her car. Is that okay?”

  “I can walk,” Megan protested, but she was glad of Tara’s help to get off the ground. With the pain she was in, she was none too steady on her skates. Tara sat her down, and she and Mindy took Megan’s skates off and replaced them with her shoes. Shelly and Kiss With a Fist were talking to the referee now. It looked like the match would be starting up again once she and Gianna were out of there.

  Tara walked her to Gianna’s car and helped her buckle in, then waved and dashed back inside. “You going to be all right?” Gianna asked, glancing over at Megan as she started up the car.

  “Yes,” Megan said, gritting her teeth against the acceleration as Gianna tore out of the parking lot. “It’s probably not broken. But damn, I hope they don’t tell me I have to stop playing roller derby.”

  Gianna laughed, but it didn’t sound happy.

  Megan stared out the window at the lights they sped past, her stomach churning. What if they did tell her she had to stop? Most derby injuries did mean you had to take a break, at least. She didn’t know what she would do with her time. She didn’t know what she would do with her life.

  Thankfully, she didn’t have to wallow for long. The way Gianna drove, her shoulder screamed at every turn and every stoplight, but at least she got them quickly to the hospital.

  Megan checked in at the emergency-room desk, then turned to see that Gianna had found them seats together. She sat down with a groan. The waiting room was crowded, and she suspected her injury was just bad enough to make waiting agony, without being bad enough to make it short. She considered going back to the desk and asking for a painkiller, but she had a suspicion that asking would be a good way to not get any.

  “Want me to go find a bookstore while you wait?” Gianna said. “Or it might be faster just to drive home and find something for you to read.”

  Megan let out a sigh. “No, thanks. I don’t think I’d be able to concentrate, and anyway, I’d rather have you here.”

  It was strange to realize just how much she meant it. She didn’t like hospitals—they didn’t freak her out or anything, she just didn’t enjoy the smell, the bustle, or the knowledge that some stranger had to take care of her. She felt better having Gianna there, a buffer against the world.

  So her buffer was also the reason she was here. That was fine with her.

  Gianna gave her a sideways grin. “That was a pretty spectacular fall, though.”

  Megan started to laugh, then stopped abruptly, hissing in a breath. Jiggling her shoulder was not fun. “Yeah, it would’ve been a great block if you hadn’t skated right i
nto me.”

  “I guess I need to work on my aim.”

  “Just hit people with your soft parts, not with your skates, and it should be fine.”

  “You like being hit with my soft parts.”

  Megan smirked. “Who wouldn’t like it?”

  “Straight girls, I guess.”

  “I think your soft parts are enough to make even straight girls really happy. And stop making me laugh, it hurts.”

  “Come on, suck it up. Are you a derby girl or aren’t you?”

  Megan was really struggling not to laugh now. “I didn’t know you were a sadist. You really shouldn’t spring that on me.”

  It didn’t seem to take nearly as long as she feared before someone was calling her name and escorting her back to a room, though as she glanced behind her at the waiting room (to assure herself that Gianna was following, which she was), she realized that its entire population had changed.

  They gave her a room with one other person in it, not a room alone, but that was all right; the other bed had a little old lady in it with another little old lady sitting beside her, and anyway, the bed was surprisingly comfortable. Megan sighed as she lay down.

  “Let me take a look at that shoulder,” the nurse, an East Asian woman who looked the same age as Megan, said, taking Megan by the wrist as she did and lifting her arm in the air. Megan hissed as she manipulated the shoulder.

  “Not broken,” the nurse said, picking up a clipboard and writing something down. “I’m guessing shoulder separation. We’ll do an X-ray to see how bad it is.”

  Megan grimaced. “A shoulder separation sounds pretty bad.”

  The nurse shook her head. “It usually heals up on its own. We’ll get you into the X-ray room and then have the doctor take a look. She’ll tell you how bad it is.” Her voice was too tired to be reassuring.

  “Can I get any painkillers?” Megan asked.

  “Can you swallow pills?” The nurse didn’t look up at her.

  “Yes.”

  “We’ll get you something.” She’d probably had a long shift.

  “Thanks.” Megan swallowed the urge to say anything else to the nurse. She needed to get on with her night.