Hell's Belles

by Megan Sparks

  Annie nodded. “What about it?”

  “Somebody took a magic marker to it.”

  “Oh, no!”

  “Let me guess,” Lauren said, sighing. “Someone drew moustaches on the faces?”

  “Among other things,” said Tessa with a grimace. “To put it delicately, the roller girls are now anatomically correct.”

  Annie gasped. “They didn’t?!”

  “They did!”

  “That’s just rude,” said Lauren. “Did you take it down?”

  “I was going to,” Tessa replied, “but the principal beat me to it.”

  Well, that was a relief. Annie could only imagine how furious Lexie was going to be when she heard that someone had defiled her drawing.

  Lauren excused herself to rush off to her history class and Annie and Tessa headed to English. Along the way they stopped to put up a poster outside the music room, and another on the bulletin board near the main office.

  Tessa chatted pleasantly about how excited she was that she and her whole team, the Derby Dolls, would be coming to watch the Halloween bout, and how the Liberty Belles were going to look so awesome dressed as vampires. Annie laughed and agreed, but no matter how much she nodded and smiled, she just couldn’t stop the phrase “sluts on wheels” from ringing in her ears.

  They got to English before the bell.

  Annie almost wished they’d been late. Because what she saw when she walked into the classroom made her sick to her stomach.

  Tyler, looking gorgeous as always, was seated at his desk.

  And Kelsey was draped across the top of it.

  Okay, maybe “draped” was a little dramatic. But she was posing with her perfect legs crossed and her shoulders back, tossing her hair like she was caught in a hurricane. Kelsey seemed to be completely engrossed in whatever it was Tyler was saying, and every so often she’d let out a giggle.

  So that’s what flirting looks like, Annie thought glumly, sliding into her desk behind Tyler’s.

  When the bell rang, Kelsey slipped gracefully off the desk and put her hand on Tyler’s shoulder. “I can’t wait for Saturday night,” she said.

  Annie’s heart sank as she realized that Tyler must have asked Kelsey to the dance. Annie felt her throat tighten and there was a stinging sensation behind her eyes. But there was absolutely no way that she would allow herself to cry! Not here. Not now. It was highly likely that later, at home, she’d curl up in a ball on Granny’s ugly plaid sofa and sob her heart out. But she wasn’t going to let Kelsey have the satisfaction of seeing that she’d won.

  As Annie forced her eyes to remain dry, she tried to work out why Tyler had even pretended to be interested in her in the first place. Obviously he hadn’t really liked her all that much if he could so easily bounce back from her rejection to ask Kelsey out.

  As Ms. Schwartz began her discussion of the doomed love between Heathcliff and Catherine, Annie tuned out. Any other day she would have been fascinated by the study of such an iconic literary masterpiece, but today she simply didn’t give a hoot about the fictional characters’ heartache.

  Today, she had her own broken heart to deal with.

  Annie was sitting on the sofa, half-heartedly doing her ankle exercises, when the doorbell rang.

  The bad mood that had begun before English class in response to the sluts on wheels remark (and had steadily declined when she’d witnessed Kelsey flirting with Tyler) was only getting gloomier now as she worried about her chances of skating on Saturday. The rehab exercises didn’t hurt like they had at the beginning, so that had to be a good sign. And she was walking perfectly now, without even a hint of a limp.

  But walking and skating were two very different things, and she knew it would all depend on what Dr. Borden said at her appointment tomorrow. The suspense of not knowing was really taking its toll.

  The bell rang again; Annie got up and went to answer the door.

  “Who is it?” she called out.

  “Reverse trick-or-treater!” came a friendly voice.

  “Huh?” Annie laughed as she swung open the door to see Lauren grinning on the front porch. “What on earth is a reverse trick-or-treater?”

  “Someone who doesn’t wear a costume and brings you candy!” Lauren explained, producing an enormous bag of miniature chocolate bars from behind her back. “Ta da!”

  There was a snuffling sound from below and Annie looked down to find the saddest and sweetest looking creature she’d ever seen.

  “Who’s this?” she cooed, crouching down to scratch the dog’s long droopy ears.

  “This is Prudence,” said Lauren, giggling as the basset hound gave Annie a big, sloppy kiss on the cheek. “She’s slobbery, but lovable.”

  “Well, come in,” said Annie. “Both of you.”

  Lauren gave a gentle tug on Prudence’s leash and the squat canine waddled into the house.

  “I’m so glad you came over” said Annie, as she and Lauren flopped onto the living room sofa. “I was feeling kind of low, actually. It’s nice to have a visitor.” She glanced down at Prudence and corrected herself. “Visitors, that is.”

  Lauren opened the plastic bag and offered it to Annie, who helped herself to a handful.

  “You have no idea how much I need this,” she said, sighing. “I had a horrible day.”

  Lauren peeled back the wrapper on a mini Snickers and nibbled on the end. “The posters, huh?”

  “That was the beginning of it. But then it got worse. I think Tyler is taking Kelsey to the Halloween dance.”

  Lauren sighed. “Oh, Annie. I’m so sorry.”

  “So am I,” Annie admitted. “I really thought he liked me. I mean, I turned him down for the dance but that didn’t mean . . .” She trailed off with a shake of her head. “I guess in a perfect world he would have understood. I mean, he would have been disappointed, but he would have asked me to do something the following weekend, and then . . .”

  Lauren gave her an understanding smile. “And then you’d live happily ever after, right?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Well, in case you haven’t noticed,” said Lauren, “this isn’t a perfect world. And if one exists I’m pretty sure it’s in a whole other galaxy.” She motioned to the television, where an extremely slender girl in a very tight dress was trying to convince them that her brand of long-wearing lipstick was the only one worth using. “For example, if this were a perfect world, that supermodel would weigh more than a child, and I wouldn’t have had to sneak this Halloween candy out of the house in order to keep my mother from flipping out.”

  Annie felt bad for her friend. “You’re in terrific shape. You’re one of the most powerful skaters the Belles have and you’ve got great stamina and muscle tone.”

  “Thanks.” Lauren bit into another chocolate bar. “It’s weird, ya know? Part of me is actually fine with the way I look. And then sometimes there’s a part of me that wishes I could go into your closet and borrow a pair of skinnies or one of your pencil skirts.” She shrugged. “I swear, if I dropped ten pounds my mother would be so deliriously happy, she’d probably spring for a whole new wardrobe.”

  Annie considered this for a minute. Then she took the big bag, fished out four more fun-size bars, and closed the bag. “How about we set a limit,” she said. “Two more each, and save the rest for Halloween?”

  Lauren smiled. “I can live with that.”

  Annie doled out the chocolate — a Snickers and a Milky Way for her, a Kit Kat and a mini bag of peanut M&M’s for Lauren.

  Annie couldn’t help but wonder. If her parents hadn’t split up and her mother had come to America with them, would Mum and Lauren’s mother have been friends? She thought about how her mum was so against her playing roller derby, how she would have preferred her to take up something “sensible” (and less dangerous), like tennis, or golf. Ann
ie couldn’t imagine anything more boring than hitting a ball around a court.

  Lauren’s mother had every right to be concerned about her daughter’s health, but Annie suspected Mrs. DeMarco was more motivated by the idea of Lauren wearing nice clothes than she was about cholesterol levels. She sighed. Why can’t mothers just accept their daughters the way they are? she wondered.

  As the ad for lipstick gave way to one featuring models strutting across the screen wearing push-up bras and very little else, Annie remembered the junior girl’s unkind comment about roller girls.

  “Do you think most people agree with what that girl in school said about us?” she asked. “You know . . . that roller girls are really just . . .”

  “Tramps on skates?” Lauren finished for her.

  “Well, her exact words were ‘sluts on wheels,’” Annie pointed out. “But it means the same thing.”

  Lauren reached down to scratch Prudence on the head. “I guess maybe they assume we are because our outfits can be a little on the sexy side.”

  “Oh, please,” said Annie, rolling her eyes. “Have you seen the cheerleading uniforms? The short little skirts and those midriff tops? Those are much more revealing than our outfits. And I’ve seen girls come to school dressed way sexier than we do on the track. That doesn’t make them sluts.”

  “People just say things,” said Lauren. “Even when they don’t know what they’re talking about.”

  “I know!” Annie shook her head. “I mean, the last thing anybody could call me is a slut. I’ve never even been —” She stopped short.

  Lauren gave her a sideways grin. “Never even been what?”

  Annie felt her face turn pink.

  “Never mind. You’ll laugh.”

  “No I won’t.” Lauren raised her right hand and put the other on top of her Kit Kat bar. “I swear on my chocolate I won’t laugh!”

  “Okay.” Annie smiled. “I was just going to say that you can’t really call someone a slut if they’ve never even been . . . kissed.”

  Lauren’s eyes flew open. “You’ve never been kissed?”

  Annie shook her head.

  “But you’re so pretty. And cool. I would have guessed you had tons of boyfriends back in London.”

  “You would have guessed wrong, then,” said Annie, laughing. “I mean, I had a few crushes over the years, but I never actually had a boyfriend. I spent a lot of my time doing gymnastics, so I missed out on most of the parties my classmates started throwing in secondary school.”

  “What about dances?” Lauren asked.

  “I went to one school disco at the end of Year Eight,” said Annie, giggling at the memory. “Only one boy asked me to dance. His name was Bernard and he was the shortest boy in our year. Unfortunately, I had just begun my infamous growth spurt, so his nose was even with my . . .” She motioned to her chest.

  Lauren cracked up. “What a nightmare!”

  “Tell me about it!” Annie opened her Milky Way and popped the whole bar into her mouth. “How about you?” she asked. “Have you ever hooked up with a boy?”

  Lauren didn’t answer, but her cheeks turned completely red.

  Annie let out a gleeful little shriek. “You have!”

  “Okay, I have. But believe me, it wasn’t what you’re imagining. No violins playing in my head. To be honest with you . . .” Lauren cleared her throat and shrugged. “Kissing boys really isn’t all that. At least not for me. I guess it didn’t do much for me at all.”

  “Well, that was probably because you were beginners, and your technique lacked polish,” said Annie. “C’mon! I need details.”

  Lauren sighed. “It was on vacation last summer. I met a boy on the beach. I was just looking for a friend to hang out with, but apparently he had other plans. On the last night of our stay the resort hosted a clambake with a bonfire, and while we were sitting around the fire. . .” She shrugged again. “He kissed me.”

  “That’s so romantic!”

  “Not really.” Lauren laughed. “He’d eaten two lobsters, a ton of clams, and about a zillion pounds of coleslaw. Five minutes after we kissed, he ran under the pier and puked his guts out.”

  “No!”

  “Yep.”

  “Oh, Lauren!”

  “I felt so bad for him! We decided that we were going to just stick to being friends, and we still talk on Facebook every now and then, but as you might imagine, we steer clear of the topic of seafood.”

  Annie laughed so hard that she thought she might wet herself. When she was finally able to catch her breath, she reached over and gave Lauren a big hug.

  “Thanks, Lauren. I really needed some cheering up today.”

  “Glad I could be of service,” said Lauren, snapping the Kit Kat bar in half and taking a bite. “And hey, who knows? Maybe it will even help your ankle.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Haven’t you ever heard the saying ‘laughter is the best medicine?’”

  “Well, in that case . . .” said Annie, reaching for the TV remote.

  They watched the comedy channel for the rest of the afternoon.

  Annie sat on the exam table, tapping her foot.

  She and Dad had just come from the radiology department, where she’d had another MRI scan, then Martha had set them up in one of the examination rooms to wait for the doctor.

  Tap. Tap. Tap.

  The scan would show whether she could skate on Saturday . . .

  Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

  . . . or she couldn’t.

  TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP —

  “Annie!” Dad reached over and planted his hand on Annie’s knee. “Stop that! You’re tapping so hard you’re going to sprain your ankle all over again.”

  Annie forced her foot to keep still, but her insides continued to churn. It meant so much to her to take part in the Halloween bout. The whole thing had been her idea! Missing it was simply unimaginable.

  Finally, the door opened and Annie sprung off the table, landing solidly on both feet without so much as a twinge. But it wasn’t Dr. Borden. It was a petite woman with iron-gray hair and a pair of wire-rimmed glasses perched on her nose.

  “Nice dismount,” joked the doctor. “Hi, I’m Dr. Delaney.”

  “It should be a good dismount,” Dad said with a chuckle, “considering how much money we spent on private lessons and training time.”

  “How’s my ankle?” Annie blurted out. “Can I skate tomorrow night?”

  Dr. Delaney slipped the MRI scan into the light box on the wall. Annie’s foot appeared in negative exposure.

  “Such a lovely likeness,” teased Dad. “I think I’ll have it framed and hang it over the mantle.”

  Annie knew he was trying to keep the mood light, in case Dr. Delaney was about to deliver bad news. But she couldn’t take the suspense even one more minute. “Is it better?”

  Dr. Delaney pointed to the scan and smiled. “You’re all better!”

  “Seriously?”

  “Good as new!”

  Annie threw her arms around her dad, then around the doctor.

  “Thank you!” she cried. This means I can skate tomorrow night!”

  Dr. Delaney’s smile flickered slightly. “Well, technically, yes.”

  Dad went instantly on alert. “Technically?”

  Dr. Delaney removed her glasses and looked at Annie. “Dr. Borden told me you suffered this injury while playing roller derby. Is that right?”

  Annie nodded.

  “Well, from a medical standpoint, there’s no reason you shouldn’t be able to skate on it. But from a purely practical point of view, I have to say, I question the wisdom of continuing to take part.”

  Annie blinked. Dr. Delaney questioned the “wisdom” of roller derby? What?

  “Maybe I’m just old-fashioned,” s
aid Dr. Delaney, raising an eyebrow at Dad. “And of course this is just my personal opinion, but don’t you think roller derby is a little too high-risk?”

  Dad threw Annie a warning glance before he answered. “I did, at first,” he admitted. “But this injury was an anomaly. Annie’s actually a very good skater.”

  “I see.” The doctor pressed her lips together. “Well, as I say, it’s just my opinion.” She turned to Annie. “If you feel any pain, I would advise stopping immediately and icing it, but I think you’ll be fine as long as you wear an ankle brace.”

  “Thank you,” Annie said again. But this time she skipped the hug.

  In the truck, Annie felt like she might explode.

  “I can’t believe her!” she huffed, buckling her seatbelt. “Would she have said something like that to a boy? Would she have told a boy that hockey or football was too high-risk?”

  “She might have,” Dad allowed.

  “And what about girl figure skaters? They don’t even wear pads or helmets, and everybody thinks they’re just darling. I’m sure jumping in the air and spinning four times is pretty high-risk. But just because they wear sparkly dresses, nobody has a problem with it.”

  “I think you’re generalizing,” said Dad. “And the doctor wasn’t saying anything you haven’t already heard. There’s no denying that derby — like football and figure skating — can be dangerous.”

  “Dr. Borden told me he’s going to let his kids try derby when they’re older,” Annie reminded her father. “So clearly he doesn’t see anything wrong with it.”

  “Calm down,” said Dad, patting her hand. “I’m just saying you should at least try to see it from the doctor’s perspective.” He paused. “And Mum’s. You know she only has your best interests at heart, don’t you, Beanie?”

  So that’s what this was about. Annie immediately felt guilty.

  “You talked to Mum?”

  “Well, somebody had to. Apparently, you haven’t answered any of her calls for the last few days.”

  “I’m sorry about that, Dad. I just knew that if we spoke, we’d fight. And I wasn’t in the mood.” She gave him a nervous look. “What did she say?”