Hell's Belles

by Megan Sparks

  After adjusting her glitzy pointed hat, Annie left Coach and her kids to enjoy their cookies and tea and headed back outside. She handed out flyers for Rosie Lee’s to everyone she saw — but she was far more selective about who she “invited” to the bout.

  Families with energetic young kids definitely got the derby flyer, as did tweens and teens who looked sporty, or artsy and creative. Snobby-looking women or girls in designer clothes yapping on mobile phones did not get the nod. Neither did suit-wearing businessmen. Annie wondered if she was being just as bad as Mum in reacting to stereotypes, but she couldn’t waste the bout flyers on anyone who seemed stuffy or overly boring.

  Dad had been right about the witch costume, though. Most people were already in the Halloween spirit and when they stopped to admire her spooky-cute look, they couldn’t help but notice Rosie Lee’s. And since the day was crisp and cool, a good amount went in for a take-out cup of tea or coffee. The jangling of the little silver bell on the shop door made pleasant background music for Annie as she schmoozed with shoppers.

  During the lulls in people passing, she’d go to the café windows and annoy Lexie, who was still painting them from the other side, by making faces and doing silly little dances on her one good foot.

  Lexie had finished her goblins and was now painting a cemetery scene on the large main window. A tombstone for the dear departed (and fictional) Rosie Lee was the centerpiece of the mini-mural and the headline (which had been Annie’s idea) read “Our Baked Goods Are to Die For.”

  Annie stood at the window and pressed her nose to the glass, which made Coach Ritter’s kids crack up.

  Strange that they stayed so long, Annie thought. Coach was on her second cup of coffee and the kids had graduated from cookies to cupcakes. There were no customers waiting to be served, so Dad, ever the gracious host, had sat down at the table with Coach Ritter and they seemed to be having a lively chat.

  “Love the raven!” said Annie, pointing to the big black bird Lexie had painted in the upper corner of the window. She danced around, flapping her arms like a bird and making squawking noises.

  “Oh. My. God.”

  Annie froze. The voice was unmistakable. And it was right behind her.

  She turned slowly and came face to face with Kelsey, whose expression was a mixture of amusement and disgust.

  But that wasn’t even the most humiliating part of the situation.

  Kelsey wasn’t by herself, or even just flanked by her two usual sidekicks.

  She was standing there staring at Annie with half the cheerleading squad and at least eight soccer players.

  One of whom was Tyler.

  “This is absolutely pathetic,” said Kelsey to the sidekick on her left, Ginger. “She’s so desperate for attention she’s dressing up in costume and dancing on the street.”

  “Pathetic,” said Ginger with a smirk.

  “At least she’s dressed appropriately,” noted Lulu, sidekick number two.

  Kelsey gave Annie a long once over. “True. I mean, she is a total witch . . . give or take a letter.”

  Kelsey reached out and snatched one of the derby flyers from Annie. Without even glancing at it, she crumpled it up and tossed it to Tyler.

  “Cut it out, Kelsey,” he grumbled, stuffing the flyer into his pocket.

  Annie wasn’t sure if he was just embarrassed by Kelsey’s rudeness, or if he was actually defending Annie.

  Just go, Annie willed silently. Take your nasty little popular clique and be on your way.

  With a flick of her hair, Kelsey started walking. But luck was not on Annie’s side today. At that moment, Dad, still sporting his stupid mask, pushed open the café door and let out a long, wolfish howl.

  “Hey there, boys and ghouls!” he called. “Anybody hungry?”

  One of the soccer players, Javier, had approached the window and was gazing across the shop at the goodies in the display case. “I could use some carbs,” he said. “Those chocolate chip cookies look pretty awesome.”

  “They are,” Dad assured him. “Just ask Annie. I’m her dad.”

  Annie gulped.

  A few of the soccer players remembered their manners and said hello.

  “I wouldn’t mind a hit of caffeine,” said the goalie, Jackson. “How’s the coffee in this place?”

  “Best in town,” said Dad. “And for Annie’s friends, the first cup is on the house. C’mon in.”

  “That’s great!” chirped Kelsey, beaming at Dad, then lowering her voice to whisper, “Too bad we aren’t her friends.”

  Annie watched in horror as the entire popular crowd filed into Rosie Lee’s, just as Coach Ritter and her kids were finally leaving. The last person through the door was Tyler. He paused to glance over his shoulder at Annie, but his expression was unreadable.

  Lexie, who’d watched the entire disaster through the window, was shaking her head in sympathy as she waved Annie inside.

  Annie would have much rather taken off and ran as far away from Rosie Lee’s as possible, maybe even all the way back to England (including swimming across the Atlantic). But her ankle prohibited her from running as far as her own house.

  So, having nothing else to do, she limped her way to the door of the café and followed the cool crowd inside.

  The boys couldn’t get enough of Dad’s baked goods. Javier ate three chocolate chip cookies, two blood clot brownies, and a gingerbread skeleton.

  Kelsey, however, absolutely forbade her cheerleaders from so much as tasting anything. “Can you say ‘carb overload?’” she sneered.

  The girls obediently ordered black coffee and nothing else. Tyler had a peanut butter cookie, but didn’t say much.

  By now, Dad had shed the mask and had pulled up a chair so that he was actually sitting with the soccer players, telling them stories about the English Premier League.

  The boys actually seemed to be enjoying Dad’s company as much as they were enjoying his baked goods. There was a heated debate over whether Manchester United would win the league this year, and a philosophical discussion as to why Major League Soccer still wasn’t a dominant force in the American sports world.

  Annie wished the ground would open up and swallow her.

  When Javier pointed out the “awesome mural” on the wall, Dad proudly announced that the artist just happened to be present and pointed to Lexie with a grand flourish.

  For a second, Annie feared that Lexie might impale Dad with a paintbrush. But when Javier crossed the room to admire the painting up close and asked her why she’d neglected to include Mick Jagger in the bus, Lexie blushed a little.

  “I would have loved to paint Mick,” she admitted. “But I ran out of room.”

  That was the only encouragement Dad needed; he launched into a story about a Rolling Stones concert he attended in London in the early nineties.

  Annie kept herself busy behind the counter, filling orders for the walk-ins and occasionally hobbling over to deliver another cookie or cupcake to one of the soccer players.

  On one of these trips, she accidentally made eye contact with Tyler again.

  He looked as though he wanted to say something, but before he could, Kelsey popped up from her seat.

  “We should go,” she said. It wasn’t a suggestion, it was an order, and her minions knew it. They stood up immediately. The soccer players seemed a little more reluctant to leave, but they got to their feet too.

  “Thanks, Mr. Turner,” said Javier, shaking Dad’s hand. “You can bet we’ll be back.”

  To Annie’s shock, Tyler spoke up next. “You might want to think about running a tab for this guy,” he advised, smiling amiably at her dad. Then, for the briefest of seconds, he turned the smile to Annie.

  “Sounds good to me,” said Dad. “Maybe I’ll even send a batch of those blood clot brownies to the Halloween dance for the snacks table.
”

  Tyler’s smile vanished abruptly and Annie felt her heart flip inside her chest.

  Why did Dad have to bring up the dance?

  The other boys thanked Dad, and, surprisingly, so did a few of the girls.

  Then, when the “cool kids” were finally gone, Annie collapsed into a chair.

  “Well, that was nice,” said Dad. Completely oblivious to Annie’s discomfort, he went back into the kitchen.

  Nice? Annie thought. Was he serious?

  She’d spent the last half an hour being silently judged by Kelsey and basically ignored by Tyler.

  So in Annie’s mind, the experience had fallen somewhere between miserable and humiliating. As far as she was concerned, the only nice thing about that visit was that it was over.

  To Annie, it felt like coming home.

  The sound of the skates on the track, the feel of the cool air in the soaring space, and the smell of . . . well, maybe it would be better not to dwell too much on the smell in the roller rink, which was a less-than-fresh blend of old carpet, sweaty skaters, and burned popcorn.

  Annie stood on the threshold and smiled at the scene before her.

  The music was loud, just the way she liked it. Jesse was at his usual post, tinkering with the wheel beds on the rental skates, Liz was leading the Liberty Belles in their pre-skate stretching routine, and Coach Ritter was making sure the girls were giving it their all.

  Lauren was the first one to notice Annie and let out a cry of delight. In the next second, Annie was being mobbed by her teammates, crushed in a wonderfully welcoming group hug.

  “Hey, hop-along,” Holly joked. “It’s about time you showed your face around here.”

  “I agree,” said Coach, smiling and handing Annie a stopwatch. “As long as you’re out of commission, I can use an assistant coach.”

  “I accept,” said Annie.

  Then Coach blew her whistle and the team headed for the track. Coach hung back to accommodate the slow progress of Annie’s one-crutch gait.

  “So how’s it feeling?” Coach asked, indicating the ankle. “Healing well?”

  “You tell me,” said Annie, lowering herself to a nearby bench and hiking up the leg of her jeans.

  Like a superhero shifting identity, Coach Ritter became Nurse Ritter and began a careful examination of Annie’s ankle. Annie was pleased to note that there was hardly any pain when her coach pressed her fingers around the bone.

  “It’s actually looking really good,” said Coach Ritter. “The bruising isn’t as bad as it was and it’s barely swollen at all.”

  Annie felt a rush of hope. “Do you think I’ll be able to skate soon?”

  “Well . . .” Coach smiled. “Soon is kind of a vague term, but yes, I think so.”

  “In time for the Halloween bout?” Annie pressed.

  “I want that as much as you do, kiddo. But I really wouldn’t presume to say. That’s up to your doctor.”

  Annie frowned. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”

  Coach gave her a sympathetic look. “I’d say ‘be patient,’ but I’m talking to a teenager and I know that patience isn’t in the teen repertoire.” She laughed and helped Annie up from the bench. “Now c’mon, let’s make these Belles do some drills. You’re my official timer.”

  As they headed for the track, Coach paused. “And by the way, I really had a great time at Rosie Lee’s the other day.”

  Annie beamed. “I’m glad to hear that. The food really is great, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. And your dad is a terrific guy. He’s got a great sense of humor.”

  “Oh. Well, yeah, sure . . .” Was it Annie’s imagination or was her roller derby coach blushing? “Dad’s the best.”

  “He showed me your babysitting ad,” said Coach, smiling. “Are you free to babysit my two monsters tomorrow night for a few hours?”

  “I’d love to!” Annie replied. Brandon and Abbey were adorable.

  Looking after them will be a piece of cake, Annie thought.

  “Great! I’ll pick you up at seven,” Coach said.

  Then she blew her whistle and the Belles began their drills. Annie tried to stay focused on the timing but Coach’s blush kept distracting her. Was she reading too much into it?

  After several minutes of serious skating, Coach called for a break and went to find Slammy Tammy, the High Rollers’ coach, to arrange an impromptu scrimmage.

  Annie joined her teammates, who were huddled at the side of the rink, drinking from their water bottles.

  “It’s not the same without you on the track,” said Carmen, giving Annie a smile.

  “Yeah,” said Lauren. “I’m lost without my derby wife.”

  “You didn’t look lost to me,” Annie said. “You were wicked out there.”

  Liz looked across the rink at where the High Rollers were stretching. “I can’t help feeling like it’s their fault that you got hurt,” she grumbled.

  Annie shook her head. “I was the one who let anger get the better of me.”

  “But that Dee Stroyer egged you on,” said Holly bitterly. “She went for the jugular.”

  Annie couldn’t help but look surprised that this remark had come from Holly.

  Holly rolled her eyes. “I know, I know, I’m one of the biggest ‘eggers’ in the league. But when I do it, it’s only jokingly.”

  “She’s right,” said Sharmila. “If Dee hadn’t taunted you, you wouldn’t have reacted the way you did, Annie.”

  “Mentioning Tyler was hitting below the belt,” Carmen agreed.

  Annie was genuinely touched by how protective her team was being on her behalf. They were right. Dee had wanted to infuriate Annie with all those cracks about asking Tyler to the dance. So maybe Annie and Dee were equally to blame for Annie’s injury. “Well,” she said, “it’s over and done with, and there’s really nothing we can do about it now.”

  As the High Rollers went into a huddle and sang one of their psyche-out chants, Holly flashed a mischievous grin. “Not necessarily.”

  “Uh-oh.” Liz frowned, planting her hands on her hips. “What are you suggesting, Holly Terror?”

  Holly shrugged. “Just a little play-acting. All in good fun, of course, but I say we make the Rollers think we’re a bunch of crazed maniacs! I bet then that Dee Stroyer, and everyone else for that matter, will think twice about pushing our buttons.”

  Sharmila’s vivid green eyes twinkled. “Sounds like fun.”

  “Sounds like a stint in the sin bin,” Liz corrected.

  Holly shook her head. “Not if we go wild before the scrimmage.”

  Lauren cocked her head. “Huh?”

  “Watch and learn, freshman,” said Holly. By way of demonstration, she gave the unsuspecting Sharmila a good hard shove.

  Caught off guard, Sharmila went spinning across the track, just barely managing to stay on her feet.

  “That’ll teach you to mess with my skates!” Holly barked.

  Sharmila didn’t miss a beat. “Touch me again, Red, and I’ll mess with more than just your skates.”

  Annie’s eyes were wide as Holly skated out until she was standing toe stop to toe stop with Sharmila.

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah!

  By now, Jesse had joined Annie on the sidelines, curious about the screaming match.

  “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “They’re putting on an act,” said Annie, watching as her two teammates began to circle each other like panthers ready to attack.

  Holly was positively screeching now. “Listen up, Godzilla . . .”

  “You put your grubby little paws on me again and I will take you out!”

  “Please!” Holly rolled her eyes. “The only thing more fake than your threats is —”

  “Your hair color?” Sharmila sho
t back.

  That did it! The Belles and the Rollers watched in stunned silence as Holly flung herself at Sharmila, grabbing her by the shoulders. But Sharmila was ready. She wrapped her arms around Holly’s waist and squeezed.

  “It’s a brawl!” cried one of the Rollers.

  “Look at them go!” said another.

  Liz allowed the girls to pretend a little longer before she grabbed Lauren and they skated out to break up the fight. Liz hauled a hissing and sputtering Holly off Sharmila, while Lauren secured Sharmila’s arms behind her back.

  “Guess you didn’t hear what I said about people keeping their hands to themselves!” Sharmila screamed. In the next second, she’d ducked out of Lauren’s hold and was pulling Holly across the track by her ponytail.

  Carmen giggled. “My turn,” she whispered to Annie, then bombed out to the track to throw herself on Liz.

  “Do something!” cried Annie, grabbing Jesse’s arm. “Somebody’s gonna get hurt.”

  “Nah,” said Jesse, grinning. “They’ll be fine. Nobody’s even gonna break a nail.”

  Annie glanced at the High Rollers, who were watching the fight in amazement. A few of them looked a little nervous, and Annie didn’t blame them.

  Then came the peal of a whistle and Coach Ritter barreled across the track, stopping on her toes in the center of the action.

  “Enough!” she shouted.

  The girls immediately ceased their faux-kicking and mock hair-pulling, and caught their breath.

  Annie watched as the High Rollers exchanged glances. She was pretty sure that for the most part they knew the whole brawl had been a sham, but a few of them looked worried that the Belles had anger management issues.

  Coach was looking pretty angry herself. “What in the world was that?” she demanded.

  “Theatrics,” said Holly. “We just wanted to remind them who they’re dealing with, that’s all.”

  “Who they’re dealing with,” said Coach sternly, “is a well-trained team of athletes who should know better than to behave like a bunch of psychos on the track!”

  “We just wanted to scare them,” Liz said sheepishly. “We wanted them to think that we were loose cannons, so they’d be less likely to mess with us.”