by Elicia Hyder
“Fifteen!”
“Sixteen!”
“Seventeen!”
“Eighteen!”
“Nineteen!”
Olivia looked like a stroke was looming. Still, head down. Eyes forward.
“Twenty!”
“Twenty-One!”
“Twenty-Two!
“Final minute!” Shamrocker shouted.
“Twenty-Three!”
Monica stumbled and fell. Olivia jumped over her leg and kept going.
“Twenty-Four!”
“Twenty-Five!”
“Twenty-Six!”
Everyone was screaming and stomping their skates.
“Twenty-Seven!” I almost jumped in the air, but thankfully remembered I was on wheels.
Olivia made it almost halfway back around to me before Shamrocker blew the whistle. Then she rolled off the track and collapsed, flat on her back, her chest heaving like her ribs might splinter right through her shirt.
I skated over to her, pumping my fists in the air. “You did it!”
She just nodded, draping her arm over her eyes as she panted. “Water,” she choked out.
Styx appeared beside me, twisting off the cap of a bottled water that sweated with condensation. “Congratulations,” she said, handing Olivia the water. “It’s rare we see anyone make it on the first shot.”
Behind us, the second group of skaters had begun their five minutes of agony.
Olivia propped up on her elbow pads and tipped the bottle up to her lips. She drained half of it before slamming it on the floor beside her and flopping back down again. Her helmet smacked against the concrete. “I…might…die,” she huffed.
“We haven’t lost anyone yet,” Styx said, winking at her. She slapped me on the back. “You ready for this?”
I feverishly shook my head. “Nope.”
She squeezed my shoulder. “You don’t have to hit twenty-seven today. Just push out as many as you can. Each time it will get easier. Come on. I’ll count for you.”
If I could skate as fast as my heart could pound, I’d nail the twenty-seven laps in half the time. “OK,” I said, forcing a nod.
Olivia sat back up. “Good luck, Lucy.”
Grace and Monica were in similar states as Olivia, sprawled across the floor and soaked like they’d run through a water hose. “How’d you guys do?” I asked, stopping beside them.
“Twenty-four,” Grace answered, splashing water on her face from the bottle she was holding.
Monica flashed two fingers twice. “Twenty-two,” she said.
“That’s good,” Styx told them. “Some girls don’t break twenty the first time.”
I held up my hand, then pointed to my own face. “Some girls, right here.”
Grace and Monica both smiled or tried to, anyway, through their open-mouth panting.
“Zoey, you and Lucy are up next,” Styx said.
Olivia pushed herself up and slowly skated over to join us. “I’ll count for Zoey,” she offered.
Styx pointed at me. “Or you can count for Lucy, and I’ll count for Zoey. I know you two are close.” Her words had a bit of a fishing-for-information tone to them.
“I see enough of her at home,” Olivia said, pushing against my shoulder.
Styx pointed at both of us. “You two live together?”
“Roommates,” I clarified, in case Styx had any doubt regarding the nature of our relationship.
She nodded, and I saw the tiniest twinkle in her eye.
Shamrocker’s whistle blasted and another group of skaters collapsed to the concrete. None of them hit twenty-seven laps, which, honestly, made me feel better. That was, until Styx pushed me toward the track. “You’re up, kid.”
I swallowed.
Zoey tugged on my sleeve. “Come on.”
“You can do it, Lucy,” Olivia said.
I looked back over my shoulder and laughed. “Yep. I’m gonna beat your record.”
She winked at me. “That’s the spirit. I’ll pay your rent this month if you do.”
Zoey and I lined up beside each other on the starting mark. She had an emergency inhaler in hand. I’m such a wuss, I thought, watching her tuck the inhaler into her sports bra. I could feel my pulse throbbing extra hard in my sore fingers and sweat under my helmet tickled my scalp.
The sound of creaky hinges caught everyone’s attention across the room. My head whipped toward the door as it slammed behind the woman who’d just walked in. She was stocky with broad shoulders made even broader by the shoulder pads of her black blazer. Her long brownish-gray hair was parted down the middle with bangs cut straight across her forehead.
“Oh shit,” the girl to my right said. “It’s The Duchess.”
“Coach!” Shamrocker cheered. “You made it!”
The Duchess threw up a hand as she walked over. “Sorry, I’m late. Long meeting at work.”
“We’re doing the third round of 27 in 5s,” Shamrocker explained. “We’ve already had one newbie pass.” Shamrocker pointed at Olivia.
The Duchess crossed her arms over her chest and nodded at Olivia. “Nicely done.”
Olivia smiled.
“Carry on,” The Duchess told Shamrocker. “Pretend I’m not even here.”
“Yeah, right,” I muttered.
Beside me, Zoey snickered.
Shamrocker’s whistle of death sounded. Everyone cheered.
I pushed off a second after everyone else for fear of tangling my wheels with anyone and hitting the floor before ever leaving the line. I watched the other girls enter the first turn, their knees bent, and their skates braiding and weaving as they crossed over through the corner. My feet didn’t cross. I tottered side to side as I rounded the turn.
“Bend your knees!” Styx shouted as I finally passed her. “Loosen up!”
With the whole section of the track completely to myself, I bent and pushed my feet wide to the sides. I sailed forward down the front straightaway, and as I entered the turn—holy smokes!—my right skate came over the top of my left. I pushed with my left wheels as long as I could.
Stretch. Step. Push. Stretch. Step. Push, I chanted in my mind.
I rounded the next turn so fast that I wobbled coming out of it. For a second, I looked like I’d rolled over a patch of black ice, but I quickly recovered and kept going.
“Seven!” Styx screamed.
Whoa! Seven already?
I could hardly hear my skates striking the floor over the sound of my ragged breathing.
“Eight!”
Just keep swimming. Just keep swimming. Thank you, Nemo. Or was it Dory?
“Nine!”
Stretch. Step. Push.
“Ten!”
BAM! My skates tangled midway through the far turn, and I came down hard on my knees. I jumped back up on my toe stops and scrambled back to the track.
“Eleven!”
Shamrocker’s voice echoed around the room. “Two and half minutes left! You’re halfway there!”
Halfway? I was wrong. Five minutes was too freaking long. I no longer gave a crap about having enough time to complete twenty-seven laps. Five minutes was a flipping eternity.
I couldn’t breathe. Stars danced. Bile churned.
Sweat trickled from under my helmet right into my left eye, obscuring the left side of the track. I dried my face with the edge of my T-shirt as I flew down the straightaway.
“Fifteen!”
“Sixteen!”
Zoey skated off the track and used her inhaler. I looked back to make sure she was OK, but Maven had already gone to her.
“Seventeen!”
My lungs burned. My shins and calves twisted into knots. My lower back felt like someone had smacked me with a baseball bat.
“Eighteen!”
“Final minute!” Shamrocker screamed.
I fell again. This time coming down hard on my knees and on my wrist guard. My fingers smacked the floor, and I yelped with pain. But I got up. I got back-freaking-up.
“Nineteen!”
“Twenty!”
The whistle blasted, long and loud, rattling off the bleachers and metal ceiling. I skated off the rink and collapsed, my breath ripping violently through my chest. Hehn-hehn-hehn-hehn. I sounded like a goose with emphysema.
Olivia appeared over me. “You did it!”
No, I really didn’t. But I couldn’t answer over the fight for consciousness. The halogens above were casting a halo of light around her head. Either that or I was crossing over to the other side.
“Here.” Styx handed me a water bottle.
Olivia pulled me up to sitting. I drank a few deep gulps, wishing it wasn’t so very cold. My chest tightened with a cramp. “Is Zoey OK?” I asked when I could finally speak.
Styx nodded. “She’s fine. She knew to not overdo it. You OK? You look like you might stroke out.”
“I might.” I was holding the twisted muscle in my side, just under my lungs.
She pointed to my hand. “Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth to keep from getting a stitch in your side.”
I forced a smile. “Thanks for the tip.”
The Duchess, the head coach of this sport I had no business being a part of, walked over. My smile faded. Forget the stroke. I’m dead. And this is my hell.
“What’s your name?” The Duchess asked, looking down at me on the floor.
“Lucy,” I answered, my stomach churning in knots.
The corner of The Duchess’s mouth tipped up into an almost smile. “You don’t sound too sure about that.”
I cleared my throat. “Yes, ma’am. My name is Lucy Cooper.”
“Well, Lucy Cooper, that was good work out there.”
What the—?
Maybe she hadn’t counted my laps.
“I didn’t even come close to twenty-seven,” I admitted.
“Most girls don’t the first time,” she said. “I’m talking about you getting up and finishing. You’re scrappy. I like that.”
Maybe I did have a stroke and didn’t realize it. “Thank you.”
She pointed at my face. “I’d better see you in October.”
I nodded. “You will.”
And I knew right then, she certainly would.
Olivia parked in the lot behind her restaurant, and we walked the four blocks to The Mad Cow, rather than attempt to comb the busy street for an empty space we probably wouldn’t find. “Wanna play count the hipsters?” she asked when we emerged from the alley and turned left down Woodland Avenue.
“I’m surprised at you making fun of your clientele,” I said, slipping on my sunglasses.
“There’s one!” She pointed to a guy with a handlebar mustache in a white T-shirt and cuffed jeans.
I laughed.
She pointed again. “There’s another…no, never mind.”
It was a guy walking two dogs down the sidewalk toward us. One was big and solid black, a Lab maybe, with a tongue dripping with slobber that dangled sideways out of its mouth. The other was a small beagle, mostly brown with big black-and-white spots.
“Lucy?” the man said.
My eyes jerked up, and I stopped walking so fast I nearly toppled forward. West Adler was holding the dogs’ leashes. Olivia was right. Definitely not a hipster.
“Oh, hi,” I said, trying to not sound as stunned as I felt.
“Hi.” He looked around, obviously surprised as well.
Olivia didn’t mask her shock. Her eyes whipped from me to West and back to me again.
“West, you remember my roommate, Olivia, right?”
He smiled. “Of course. Good to see you again.”
Her brow pinched together with disapproval. “Sure. You too.” She nudged my arm. “I’m going to go on and meet the girls. See you in a few?”
I nodded. “Sure. Be right there.”
The black dog suddenly jumped up on me, planting his heavy paws against my chest, knocking me back a step. West yanked on his leash. “Cash, down! I’m sorry. He gets excited.”
I knelt down and scratched behind the dog’s ear. “Cash, huh? As in Johnny Cash?”
“Yeah. How original, right?”
“I hope he never gets lost. It would take an army to sort through all the black-dogs-named-Cash sightings in this city.”
West laughed, and my double-crossing heart tugged in my chest. Cash slurped my cheek.
“Geez, I’m sorry, Lucy.”
I wiped my face on my shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. Who’s this?” I let the curious beagle sniff my hand.
“His name’s Puck.”
I cupped the dog’s tiny face in my hands and scratched his neck. “Hello, Puck.”
“How’ve you been?” West asked.
My knees ached as I stood back up. “I’m good. Really good. How are you?”
“I’ve been really busy lately.”
I wasn’t sure if that was supposed to be an apology or an excuse, but I wasn’t about to ask. Instead, I pointed down the street. “I’d better go. We’re meeting friends for lunch.”
“Oh.” He nodded. “Well, it was really good to see you again.”
I smiled and it was almost sincere. “You too, West.” I waved as I passed him. “Bye.”
“Hey, Lucy!”
I stopped and turned back to look at him. He was unfairly handsome, really, the kind of guy that could almost make a girl forget he’d promised to call and never did. Almost.
He stared for a moment, like he wanted to say something but didn’t know what. Finally, he waved and pulled the dogs on down the street.
On my walk toward the restaurant, I counted the cracks in the concrete.
“That was crazy!” Olivia popped out from the doorway of a boutique.
I took a squealing breath and grabbed at my heart. “You scared the hell out of me!”
She grabbed my arm. “I’m sorry.”
“I thought you left,” I said as we started walking again.
“I couldn’t miss out on that!”
“Could you hear what he said?” I asked.
“Yeah. He said a whole lotta nothin’. What’s his deal?”
I shook my head. “I have no idea.” My face fell back toward the sky. “Ugh. I like him so much, Olivia.”
She looped her arm through mine. “I know you do.”
“Why are all the good ones defective?” I asked, leaning my head against hers.
“I don’t know.”
My phone buzzed in my pocket. West, I thought.
Nope. It was my brother. “Hello?” I answered.
“Hey. Where are you?”
“Out with some friends,” I said, confused. “Why? Where are you?”
“I’m at home. Dad thought you were coming today,” he said.
“Crap.” Nothing in me wanted to drive to Riverbend. “Tell him I’ll come next weekend.”
“You’re not coming home on Wednesday?”
Wednesday?
“September fourteenth,” he added.
I stopped walking. “Oh. No, I doubt it. I have to work.”
It was true. I hadn’t earned vacation time yet.
Ethan sighed on the other end of the line. “Maybe I’ll come to your house instead.”
“That’s a great idea. You definitely should.”
Olivia tugged me toward the restaurant, and my feet started moving again.
“All right. Gotta run. Since you’re not coming home, maybe I can get laid tonight.”
“Ethan!”
He chuckled. “Bye, Lucy.” He hung up the phone as we reached the restaurant door.
Grace, Monica, and Zoey were gathered around a corner booth in the back of the small restaurant. Like a lot of other places popping up around the city, it was a very industriously chic space with painted black brick walls, a glossy concrete floor, and a ceiling that wasn’t a ceiling. The air ducts and pipes were exposed all the way up to the roof. The girls waved.
We walked over and scooted onto the bench with Zoey.
Monica splayed her hands over her menu. “I’m going to go ahead and say this now. I think this should be a mandatory lunch date after every practice until our skills test.”
“Here! Here!” Grace said, lifting the fruity concoction she was drinking into the air.
“When is the skills test again?” Olivia asked.
“October twenty-second,” Zoey answered. “Unless they let you take it early. Wait, do you even have to take it at all?”
Olivia’s head flinched back a little. “Why wouldn’t I have to take it?”
The other three girls exchanged a confused glance.
“Aren’t you a transfer from another team?” Monica asked.
Olivia laughed. “No.”
Grace’s eyes doubled. “Wow. You’re really good.”
“Yeah, you’re a rock star out there,” Zoey said with a hint of amazement in her voice.
“Thanks. I’m having more fun than I thought I would. I originally only came to help Lucy make it through the first practice,” Olivia said.
Monica smiled. “That’s so sweet.”
I cut my eyes over at Olivia. “And she swept in and stole the show.”
The waitress came over and took our order. When she was gone, I pointed across the table at Grace and Monica. “You two are obviously friends. How do you know each other?”
“Cherry slushy,” Monica said.
Confused, I looked around for the waitress. Was Monica trying to order a cherry slushy? It wasn’t until Grace burst out laughing that I realized I was on the outside of an inside joke.
Grace fanned her face with a napkin. “God, that’s funny. I haven’t thought about that day in a long time.”
“What are you talking about?” Olivia asked.
“Grace is a kids’ clothes designer,” Monica explained. “She has the cutest shop in Hillsboro Village called Sparkled Pink.”
Zoey perked in her seat. “I think I’ve seen it. Is it over by the Pancake Pantry?”
Grace nodded.
“It has a hot-pink, glittery sign?” Zoey asked.
“That’s me,” Grace said with a smile.
“It’s an adorable little boutique,” Monica said. “She hand makes almost everything.”
I was impressed. Art and design was only my thing in the digital realm. Making things with my hands, not so much. I’d struggled making popsicle-stick ornaments as a kid.
“A couple of years ago, my mother-in-law and I took my girls to the shop for a Black Friday sale. Grandma had bought them both slushies about a half hour before.” Monica wilted across the table and covered her face with her hands. “My youngest, Ariana, vomited cherry slushy onto a rack of white christening gowns.”
